#the levels of “fic of a fic” are genuinely funny at this point tho

[epersonae]

it really was a fic christmas for me personally - even before djenks got going, I got a notification of "a fic inspired by your fic" like 👀👀👀

and something about it got me thinking about the gap between chapters 17 and 18 of for the benefit of all the broken hearts, and emotional labor, and mutual care.

then also a line of dialogue just popped into my head fully formed, which is often a guarantee that some writing is Just Going to Happen

so, two days later: I was hoping you would open up, which follows directly from through the tempest, through the madness.

thank you @frommybookbook and @emi--rose for some very chewy discussion of both anon's fic and my drafts. (and for permission/encouragement to use the laziest summary of all time.) it was a real pleasure, emotionally, to dig back into that part of the story and find something new there. so also many thanks to anon for the inspiration.

[zeropro]

Hi, what are your thoughts on Megatron? Most Starscream fans don't have very positive ones about him lol, but everyone is different and I would like to know that you think

I like Megatron okay, he doesnt bother me but im not like jumping up and down for megatron content yknow? but I get not liking Megatron as a Starscream fan. It's just, you can't deny how intrinsically the two characters are tied together. Really can't have Starscream without Megatron, which is unfortunate for someone like me who does not like drawing Megatron lol!

Maybe the reason most Starscream fans dont like Megatron is because of their abusive relationship? And let's be clear, due to the power imbalance, I do interpret it as an abusive relationship. Despite how much we like to joke that Starscream deserves the punishment he gets (I'm not entirely sure how attempted murder/political assassination attempts factor into an abuse allegory) no one ACTUALLY deserves to be abused. The fact that Starscream is low key also evil and has done evil things is a separate issue from Megatron's abuse of him, we can hold him accountable for the one while also having sympathy because of the other. For me personally tho? Megatron abusing Starscream doesnt make me dislike the character at all, it's honestly the main draw of the dynamic for me. Maybe I just like to see my blorbos suffer…

The G1 Cartoon Megatron is probably the most fun, and I think this dynamic is the most on the level in terms of Starscream dishing back as much as Megatron gives him. They're all just bullies on the playground, their toxic back and forths feel a lot more slap stick and silly than actual abuse. What makes it work I think is that Megatron is not as crazy powerful as he is in later continuities, and Starscream responds to the abuse like a cartoon villain, immediately bouncing back and plotting his revenge, so it's funny rather than upsetting! I also find it hilarious how Megatron is weirdly nice to all the other Decepticons who aren't Starscream lmao? G1 Cartoon Megatron is a 10/10 for me.

If G1 cartoon's Megatron and Starscream are more on an even playing field, Prime Megatron is like the opposite of that. Prime Megatron is so impossibly powerful it almost feels like no one has a chance against him in a fight, and Prime Starscream is so scrunkly and small it's almost laughable. I think I feel the most pity for Prime Starscream when he gets beat up by Megatron, but he almost always makes up for it by being possibly the most evil of the Starscreams. I like how in the third season, he genuinely seems happy to finally dedicate himself fully to Megatron, but you just know how much he'd been beaten down and broken over and over again to even get to that point. Good for him for trying to get revenge in the sequel series. As for Megatron himself, I think more often than not when I am reading fics I see Prime Megatron in my head, and it's his voice I hear. What can I say, it was the first Transformers show I watched haha. Do I love how his redemption arc was handled? Not particularly, it sorta came out of nowhere, felt really rushed, and he just goes away anyway so we don't even get anything out of it. I like redemption arcs in general, but I don't necessarily think this particular Megatron needed one.

To be perfectly honest, I didn't think the 2005 IDW Megatron deserved one either, only because when it comes to over powered, unstoppable, irredeemably evil Megatrons, this one ranked right up there if we take into consideration everything he did before Dark Cybertron. His redemption does kinda come out of nowhere. But like, idk mang! It's also really fun? Like, Bumblebee carrying him around cuz his pants got blown off is hilarious! Him actually upset at Bumblebee's death and then taking Bumblebee's Autobot badge and putting it on over his own was sweet! Him dealing with the crazy crew of the Lost Light is a lot of fun! And him actually having to confronting and deal with what he's done (and other characters dealing with him dealing with it) is a lot more interesting than just him dying. idk. The comics have been around for years by that point, and passed through the hands of many writers, so if a little handwaving and a little contrivance and a little suspension of disbelief is what is required for us to have an honestly pretty fun take on Megatron, I think I'm okay with that.

I do have one complaint tho, mostly based on content I haven't read yet so take it with a grain of salt. I have been told that the adjacent series to the Lost Light Megatron stuff covers Starscream's side of the story and that it does actually address his abuse at the hands of Megatron. My problem is that apparently (and again I haven't read that far yet so this is just hearsay, but apparently) the writers on the Lost Light Megatron stuff didn't get the memo so while Megatron feels bad for and is working at redemption for all the evil war stuff he did to everyone, the one thing he doesnt regret is apparently his treatment of Starscream? Haha, like come on! on the one hand it's really disappointing to me because id like the catharsis of Megatron’s remorse, but...on the other hand, I guess it's kinda true to life actually. Your abusers are people, and they can change and grow and become better, but it doesnt mean they will ever become better for you. It doesnt mean they will ever apologize or even feel bad for what they did. Maybe theres something to be said about having to move on and heal without that. I guess whether this is a complaint I maintain will depend on how its handled.

I get that some people don't think Megatron should ever get a redemption arch, because he's an abuser, a monster, a tyrant, and an evil warlord, and it's completely fair for your stance to be that he should just be killed and that would be justice. I personally really like continuities that treat him more like just some guy. I think Starscream put it best in 2005 IDW during Megatron's trial when he said Megatron wasn't some political genius or the most gifted strategist. He wasn't even the most evil man. In IDW, Megatron started out as a social advocate from the lower class, and despite the problematic narrative of "the bad guy had a point and just did advocacy wrong/went too far," I think the idea that Megatron kinda got swept up by his own hype and was used by people and powers more devious than he is a compelling one.

Starscream is Starscream, so who knows how much of what he says is true and how much is him lying, but this idea just rings true to me. It humanizes him. If handled well, I'm honestly not opposed to stories redeeming Megatron. I'm also not opposed to stories treating him like the devil and just killing him lol. I love a character that can do both!

Uh uh, what else. Earthspark Megatron is nice, I like him. There's...a bit of cognitive dissonance in trying to reconcile the things he chastises Optimus Prime for and the idea that he still was a ruthless warlord at one point, both of which continue to be left unexplored. Transformers One Megatron is neat, I was worried going in how they would handle the switch from Orion Pax's brother to lets start a 4-6 million year war, but like, I like the way he actually was super okay with accepting his lot in life. Like obviously he didnt like it but he didnt see a point in fighting it, and that adamant complacency as a coping mechanism is what lead to his feelings of rage and betrayal by the end. Also I think its hilarious how much younger he is from all the other Decepticon high command, especially Starscream XD.

I don't think I've read or watched anything else with Megatron in it. Man, I wrote a lot. At the end of the day, Megatron is a good character, I like the role he plays in Transformers, I'm not like actually that interested in him on his own but more what he brings to the table when considering Starscream's character. You can't have one without the other! Do I ship them? No, not really, no more than any other ship. But I'll still read Megastar stuff cuz sometimes you just want to watch two people be toxic and make it hurt so good. I'll always prefer Trine stuff anyway ha! Have fun out there!

[mazzystar24]

I totally get I just finished my exam week (I had to do a math test at 8am Sat😭). Wish you luck tho!

Also do you have any good buddies fics? Destiel too?

Math test at 8am is BRUTAL

Thank you I will definitely need it😭😭

Unfortunately I only have buddie fics to offer😔:

(Warning I do like a fair amount of angst)

Right where you left me - by hyacinthusbloom ( @thebloomingheather on here) - when I say I might be as big a fan of this fic as I am of the show I MEAN IT, you do not even understand how much I love this fic or how obsessed I am with it, I have reread it so many times despite it still being in progress that I think I may genuinely qualify it as addictive, me and @estheticpotaeto legit wait for updates like a dog at the author’s door istg, like everything about this fic is flawless and written with so much love and emotion and the way the writer captures the effects of trauma is just amazing because it’s so rare to find this level of diving into ptsd and the more uncomfortable aspects of it that are more taboo or less understandable to people, like I can yap for an hour about this fic but I’ll just say READ IT

Any fic by daisies_and_briars ( @cal-daisies-and-briars on here) but one of my favourites of his is Both blade and branch and muscle memory and four can keep a secret and appetency and the two she’s writing right now (change the prophecy and steal my sunshine) -wow at that point I should’ve left it as any fic because that’s a lot of favourites😭😭

Any fic by @loserdiaz plus with them you get enough lighthearted fics to even out the angst

Ooo I’m not sure what their username on here is but lizzybizzyzz is also another writer who I just love their fics

Fractals by hobbitprincess - one of those fics that make you squeak at how much love these fictional characters have for each other

Beneath my mother tongue by archerincombat - the angst the writing the way they hit every single emotional beat? Amazing

Anything by this_is_moony_lovegood

Leave the light on (I’ll be coming home) by HMSLusitania - the presumed dead Eddie fic of your dreams, a constant reread for me it’s just 👌

Anchored by adorkable_buddie - sorry Chris you gotta be injured sometimes just for us to get our buddie dreams hope you understand and we appreciate your sacrifice 😔🫶

empty, broken, lonely, hoping by daniweb - when I tell you I love the presumed dead trope you best believe I’m telling the truth because the ANGST?? Yes please, LISTEN it’s the closest you can get to the emotional beats of killing off a character without ever killing them off because you love them and happy endings too much so TIM MINEAR TAKE NOTES I KNOW YOU SAID YOU LOVE THEM TOO MUCH TO KILL THEM, anyways back to to the point this fic again is just flawless execution by the writer like absolutely love it

every time we stop talking (the universe starts screaming) by withmeornotatall - emotional destruction and I absolutely love it, divorce era 2.0 and it HITS

Home is where it hurts- by rileyblue2001 - can you tell I hate the Buckley parents because I HATE the Buckley parents

The one with the return of the sex addiction by buddiefication (pumpkincreamcoldbrew) - I’ve reccomended so much angst so have a funny little light hearted buddie fic with the father bobby vibes we all love❤️❤️

Okay back to the angst tho 😭😭- out of ashes by Ashavahishta - AHHHHHHH THIS FIC JUST AHHHHH STOP THE WAY I WOULD DIE FOR A FOLLOW UP FIC TO THIS AHHHH I LOVE IT SM AND ITS LEGIT A ONE SHOT I CRIED SO HARD

Falling Slowly; Sing Your Melody (I’ll Sing It Loud) by Princessfbi ( @princessfbi on here who I also love sm of their fics so highly suggest just going on their page and looking through all the fics) - absolutely love it, legit gave me brain rot and got me obsessed for a GOOD while

I'm comin' back, don't let me go by wikiangela ( @wikiangela on here also love love their fics again so check them out but this one is probably my favourite of theirs)

Okay this is looking more and more like a uni reading list so I’m gonna shut up now but I hope you enjoy these fics and that a few of them emotionally damage you like they did me because I love to spread the joy (see: pain and suffering) 🫶🫶

[jevilowo]

Went to France instead of making Soldier Ships. And then Forgor. Apologies.

Ranking Tf2 Ships Part 2: Soldier

Batting Helmet

See the first list lmao

It's hilarious, basically.

Sollycest

I think their combined power would destroy the planet. So.

Objectively funny also, however

Fireworks

Im like 90% sure thats the ship name but i havent touched my shipping website in months soooooo

Same genre as batting helmet, but objectively BETTER, because they actively meet each others' crackpot level. And there's minimal choking.

Seriously check out the tag on ao3 some absolutely BRILLIANT fics on there shout out to uhhh i think they're called Hanktalkin and they've written the best ones

Realistically would destroy everything around them. I'm beginning to think that would just happen with most Solly ships.

Boots n Bombs

SHOUT OUT TO BOOTS N BOMBS WEIRDLY UNDERATED DESPITE BEING THE FOURTH MOST POPULAR SHIP ON AO3. Crazy gap between bloody suit (1000+) and them (like around 450).

EMESIS BLUE. URGH. THEY KILL ME.

WAR! UPDATE. URGH. THEY CONTINUE TO KILL ME.

CUT VOICELINES. URGH. THEY SUCEEDED IN KILLING ME. I AM DEAD.

Lovely lovely dynamic, platonic or otherwise. At least Besties in every universe, team colours be damned.

And the YURI. ARGH I saw someone describe WAR! solly x demo as yuri coded bc of their "unbearably sapphic levels of miscommunication" which HAHA YEAH but I mostly mean the genderbendy art it's Exquisite.

Bonus points for when they're polying up they cule with Zhanna also. I had to explain the word polycule to a classmate the other day isn't that wild. Anyways the three of them match each others' freaks.

Cold War

When you're so determined for this idiot to not fuck your sister you fuck him instead lmao

Pretty fun in theory, in practice I think they'd both hate it.

Um shout out to that one fic i read once where soldier ruptured his throat giving heavy head that was. Something. I mean that in a nice if midly bemused way btw.

Helmet Party

Save me helmet party etc etc

The art on here for them is adorable genuinely the softest i see solly portrayed in fanworks is with engie

In canon Solly seems to respect Engie the most? E.g. Expiration date: stops choking out scout when asked to by Engie, takes Engie's "teleport bread if u want" comment as an ORDER, even the whole QUESTION whatsurquestionsoljer exchange felt very I ASK OF YOU, COMMANDING OFFICER!! What having another True American on the team does to a mf i guess. Scout isnt a True American he's french.

I mean i still like boots n bombs more lol but helmet party fans i see u and i love u especially when u make it yuri.

Fruit Scones

Look up the story behind the ship name guys its great

As a ship to me it's heavymedic but without everything that makes heavymedic the Ship Of All Time

Solly's pocket medic cosmetic is cute tho

Uhhh as long as soldier never made the germany connection i think it could work? Like he'd let medic do crazy shit to him and medic would giggle and kick his feet over it. Then again there's no way medic wasnt doing fucked up shit to n*zis during ww2 so ykw it would probably work out regardless yippeee

OH YEAH THE NICKNAMES whenever i play medic and hear a cmere sweetheart/pumpkin/sally/cupcake I lose all control of myself and suddenly become a pocket medic teehee.

American Aviators

Its a sniper ship and not sb so I automatically like it

Tragically not that compatible. Sniper would find soldier too loud and soldier would find sniper too unamerican in his shooting things from far away tactics.

They have potential to be good friends tho i think. I've always seen Sniper as a trolling god (see that one in character interview john patrick lowry did in uh 2014 i think) and Solly would eat that shit up.

Freedom Fries

Ehhh?

Art on here is cute. Don't get me wrong. Love that.

HOWEVER. in no universe would they actually Function as a couple. Sorry guys. 54727474 dead 277282848 injured.

I am also put off it because people flock to it (and, sigh, mediscout,) over boots n bombs in the emesis blue side of the fandom. I AM NOT SHIP SHAMING BY THE WAY, I GOT ACCUSED OF THAT ONCE AND HAVE YET TO EMOTIONALLY RECOVER, but i reallyyyy wish people would focus less on Most Toxicly Basic Yaoi Known To Man, and more on Tragic Doomed Yaoi Where Both Parties Actually Kind Of Like Eachother And Didn't Both Try To Kill Each Other (russian roulette and the grenade at the funeral). AGAIN I AM NOT SHIP SHAMING HERE PLS DON'T CONSUME ME SHIP WHAT YOU WANT GIRLYPOPS.

Sollypauling

I have a crack headcanon that he's her father so that's put me off seeing them romantically haha

I wrote a fic about The Fathering once at 12am and im still not sure whether i hate it or not so don't read it just to be safe <3

Magic Missiles

DIVORCED!!! *autism creature confetti gif*

Jay Pinkerton (comic writer) allegedly reblogged MM art once. And he refuses to let their dynamic go in the comics. I.e. "the heart wants what the heart wants, Merasmus". Truly their biggest fan.

I love them i really do. Only slightly less toxic than fucking adminpauling imo, and thats like britney spears dootdootdootdootdootdootdootdoot bweebwahbweebwahbwahh levels of toxic

Maggot Bears

Based based utterly based fucking detergent levels of based and thats like 13 or something on the pH scale (i.e. Extremely Based)

They do in fact destory everything around them, proving my earlier hypothesis lol.

Idiot 4 Idiot. Dumbass 4 Dumbass. They both get naked to pee. I love them. I want to be them.

Again, bonus points when Demo is involved. Uwaaa.

I love the lack of consistent ship name for them. East meets West? Maggot Bears? Boots n Brawn? Zhannasolly? There's one involving honey as well but i forgor it and I've been typing so much I've got pins and needles in my left hand so i give up. Peace.

[johnslittlespoon]

HI I'M ALIVE i swear this is a pattern at this point, i post a new fic/chapter and disappear for a phat day (or two) lmaoo i literally get The Fear and i have to avoid notifs/comments for a bit <33

that being said, wept reading the comments on TAS, i'm so so thankful y'all are vibing with it because i was NERVOUS about posting my first ever modern au and i wanted to make sure it still felt true to the characters but everyone's been so unbelievably kind i'm so wahhahhhh :')) i appreciate the sweet words SO so much, it's so reassuring and so motivating <33

so motivating actually that i'm already halfway done ch2... whoops? litch rally buzzing with how excited i am to write, i don't think i've ever experienced this which sounds strange but like. okay hold i can already tell i'm gonna go on a tangent so let me cut myself off with a read more lmaoo

idk, does anyone else ever sometimes feel like even though obviously we all write fic for enjoyment because we do it for free, sometimes it feels like a chore? not in the sense that i feel obligated to write, but just that even though i feel passionately about what i want to write, it's just hard to get my brain into gear (adhd aside) even when i really want to. i'm just thinking out loudddd now but my concerta just kicked in so it's inevitable LOL word vomit and thought processing is apparently a necessary part of my writing process smh

writing yad(iym) has honestly been so helpful with this because one of the biggest things that i struggle with when writing is that i have a super vivid imagination and can picture exactly what i want to portray/convey, but sometimes i don't know how to get there, but with the dog coded fic i have the timeline of the actual show to follow, so it takes a lot of pressure off in that sense! it's sorta like filling in the gaps because i have something base level to work with.

but 99% of the time when writing, i don't have that, so i end up avoiding my docs often because i feel stuck in terms of progressing the storyline, and my writing process drags on so longgg. i'm finding too now that i'm writing my first (and second oops) actual long fic that oneshots are actually more difficult for me to finish for some reason despite most of mine being shorter than a singular chapter in my fics, which is funny because i was so terrified of commitment starting a chaptered fic but i've ended up being more consistent.

anyway point is, i adore writing yad(iym) and it's been the most fun experience i've had fic writing, but now that i've sorted out the world building aspects for tough and sweet, everything is just flowing and instead of having to sit myself down at my desk and kinda just force myself into the zone, i cannot drag myself out of my docs?? and i've never had that happen but i'm definitely trying to take advantage of it while it lasts and get as much written as possible!

i think it also helps that it's so lighthearted compared to the angst of yadiym (tho i've got some angst planned for tas too lol sry) so i don't have to think as much about the weight behind certain dialogue, or carefully plan out the progression of the relationship dynamic the way the time period/setting of yadiym requires. it's a nice breather from the constraints of the mota–verse (as much as it's still my favourite thing to read/write with these boys), but i also enjoy getting to sink back into that doc when i want something deeper than the little biker boys.

i'm still very much working away on yadiym tho to be clear!! i was scared to start tas before i finished it in case i hyperfixated on tas and my updates got slow on yadiym, but it's genuinely helped me find a balance because i'm always working on one if i'm not working on the other <3 i'm about half done ch6 too for yadiym (how many times can i type that in one post jfc), i'm just at an internal emotions heavy part which i Hate. writing lmaooo give me dialogue or smut and i can type away for hrs but introspection?? internal conflict? hell

ok that's all my fic related rambling thank uuuu/apologies if u sat thru all of that LOL lmk if your writing process/mindset is similar or not bc i'm always curious about how other people's brains work with this stuff!! also how does one get over feeling obnoxious about rambling on their own acc like. this is my acc. i could post 100 times a day if i wanted. i need to Relax good god

[leverage-ot3]

What are your k drama recommendations??!? I need new ones

omg my time has come thank you anon for giving me the opportunity to ramble about shows

I ended up talking WAY too long so I'm putting everything after the first one under the cut

all of us are dead- show about high schoolers as a zombie apocalypse starts. very funny and relatable, literally they call the police and are like 'have you seen train to busan?' bffrrn. has a lot of social commentary and there are references to the sinking of mc sewol (a cruise that sunk where the captain deserted it and left a large amount of high schoolers to drown). commentary about how adults save themselves first/leave youth to fend for themselves. one of my comfort shows and although they didn't intend for more seasons, it was received so well that they have been renewed! I am also an ot4 truther and sometimes talk about them on my international shows sideblog: @nam-on-jo

sweet home- (disclaimer: I am not caught up and have not yet seen s2 which came out a little while ago) honestly I have no idea how to explain this so I'm gonna copy-paste the blurb: as humans turn into savage monsters, one troubled teenager and his neighbours fight to survive and to hold onto their humanity. basically people turn into monsters for [redacted] reasons and everyone in his large apartment building is stuck inside trying to fend for their lives.

my name- I'm just going to paste the blurbs going forward because it's easier: Following her father's murder, a revenge-driven woman puts her trust in a powerful crime boss -- and enters the force under his direction. bro some of these twists I expected but others caught me off guard. I love the main character and am a little gay for her but I think that's valid because she's a bamf. there was a plot point at the end of the second to last episode that I really didn't like and made me very upset. narratively I get why they did it but it made me sad so I'm still pissy. might get around to writing a fix-it fic one day when motivation strikes because my girl deserves better things.

the guest- a detective, a catholic priest, and a psychic join forces to fight crime caused by supernatural forces. not to say they are my ot3 but they kinda are. (other ppl interpret it is a lesbian and her two bi/gay bffs which I also accept but. ot3 tho). LOVED every twist and turn and how the three of them go from not trusting one another to being family. genuinely one of my favorites from all the kdramas I've watched over the years and I want to rewatch it again soon

happiness (tvn)- The residents of a high-rise apartment fight for their lives against a deadly infectious disease while Sae-bom and Yi-hyun try to find the person because of whom the virus spread. bro I adored this. some characters annoyed me (which means they were written effectively) but it has so much. fake dating/marriage (they wanted a better apartment lmao). annoyances to lovers. mean/rude woman soft for sunshine man. what you will do for the people you love. morals and humanity during a catastrophy. *smacks show* you can fit so much into this. no but seriously, I thought this was a really interesting take on the zombie virus! so some of the time you come off completely asymptomatic and 'normal', so people can get away with acting normal and hiding the disease around other people, so the paranoia and mystery is REALLY amped up. had me guessing a LOT. sae-bom and yi-hyun are both cops/detectives and you find out really early (ep 1/2?) that sae-bom is immune which gives a really interesting dynamic that leaves her (to yi-hyun's exasperation and heightened blood pressure levels) to be kinda reckless in the pursuit of truth and salvation. I'm rambling now because this is making me watch to rewatch but yeah as a zombie/dystopia/apocalypse lover this was a good watch. it's more story-focused than violence-heavy which was a cool and refreshing twist

alice in borderland- okay y'all I am aware people had mixed feelings about s2 but overall I did enjoy the series. 'Obsessed gamer Arisu suddenly finds himself in a strange, emptied-out version of Tokyo in which he and his friends must compete in dangerous games in order to survive.' what can I say, I love a dystopian-esque setting.

the silent sea- imma be real, I only watched it for loml bae doona from sense8. 'During a perilous 24-hour mission on the moon, space explorers try to retrieve samples from an abandoned research facility steeped in classified secrets.' basically earth is in severe crisis mode as they run out of water to drink. water has recently been found on the moon, and although there was a mysterious tragedy that happened previously to researchers looking for water in a base on the moon, they have reached a level of desperation where they have another mission to look for moon water. mystery, paranoia, a couple of good twists ensue. I thought it was pretty good even though I have some mixed feelings about the open ending.

semantic error- yes I am sliding a bl into this list. bitch you thought. of course my bl-loving self would mention this (I forgot about it until I looked up good kdramas to remind myself of stuff I have watched). 'A strict, rule-abiding computer science major must work together with an artist with a polar-opposite personality to his.' confident cool boy meets bitch boy. it's great.

and of course...

leverage con artists- I would be fired from running this blog if I didn't mention the beloved korean spinoff of leverage. 'The series follows the story of Lee Tae-joon, a former insurance investigator who forms a team of thieves and con artists to target the rich and wealthy. The team was also formed to avenge Tae-joon's son's death.' I've posted about it before so I won't go super into it but it's VERY camp, a good time, and the ot3 is alive and well. debatable more overt than their predecessor!

other mentionables:

I tried watching kingdom (again for bae doona) but couldn't really get into it. might try again later because it's critically acclaimed (I think) and has even gotten a spinoff series

my roommate really liked mr queen. I didn't really pay attention when we were in the same room and they were watching it but it's fruity

the island on amazon prime was good! interesting plot but not in my top 10 or anything. worth a watch if you're looking for a kdrama to watch in your spare time. features girlboss businesswoman being thrown into a world of the supernatural because [redacted]. supernatural black horse man keeps her safe while keeping a life-changing secret.

let's fight ghost was a thai show that I saw and loved that was adapted into a kdrama called bring it on ghost, but honestly I couldn't get through it because I liked the thai one better.

train to busan is technically a movie but it's iconic and well-known and I highly suggest watching it if you like zombie/apocalypse movies. disclaimer: kdramas do not have the slow 'walker' zombies. they are fucking fast and the stuff of my nightmares. would probably just jump off a bridge if this actually happened ngl

I did think that extraordinary attorney woo was cute. I never finished it and know that there are VERY valid criticisms about the perpetuation of media portraying people with autism in the stereotypical savant ways. however, I liked how the love interest accepted her for who she was, loved her because of who she was and made efforts to accommodate and learn how to comfort her in ways that would work for her

business proposal was pretty decent if you like lighthearted romance- I didn't finish it but would like to at some point

tale of the nine tailed was another one that my roommate and I started watching but never finished. it was alright! just lost interest

shows on my watchlist:

black knight (netflix)- 'In a dystopian future devastated by air pollution, the survival of humanity depends on a group of deliverymen known as the Black Knights who navigate the wastelands using unconventional means.'

copycat killer-

hellbound (netflix)-

shop for killers (hulu)- 'A nephew who lost his parents and grew up in the hands of an uncle who runs a shopping mall faces a new truth after his uncle's sudden death.'

the legend of the blue sea (viki + hulu)- 'A magistrate's plan to release mermaids into the ocean backfires when they're caught by fishermen.' (legit I just miss mermaid media)

gyeongseong creature (netflix)- 'In the city of Gyeongseong in 1945, a group of young people thinking only of their own survival encounter a monster born of human greed and ask themselves what humanity is.'

dark hole (viki)- 'A mysterious black fog from a petrochemical factory's sinkhole turns people into bizarre figures; people who are not infected try to survive in this middle of pandemonium.'

the cursed (multiple)- 'An enthusiastic social issues reporter, fighting against the evil hidden behind an IT conglomerate, meets a teen-age girl who is possessed by a spirit and has special abilities.'

blood (multiple)- 'Dr Park Ji Sang believes in the sanctity of human life, and struggles to treat terminally ill cancer patients and save lives while at the same time being a vampire.'

the ghost detective (viki)- 'In this horror thriller drama, a detective who catches ghosts tries to solve the case of his younger sibling's death with the help of his assistant.'

possessed (netflix)- 'A smart-mouthed detective and a reclusive psychic medium join together to get rid of the ghost of a murder who was executed 20 years ago.'

connect (hulu)- 'A man is kidnapped and one of his eyes removed by a gang of organ hunters; his eyes was transplanted into body of a serial killer; the unwilling donor now has terrible visions as he witnesses terrifying attacks on the residents of Seoul.'

and now just because so many of these only have het romances, I looked up k-dramas with lgbtq representation... (some of these recommendations were from articles from screenrant, movieweb, this subreddit, herzindagi (bl-focused), allkpop)

schoolgirl detectives (viki)- 'Five teenage girls join together to investigate mysterious incidents that occur at their school, as well as help classmate deal with bullying, depression and other crises.'

be melodramatic (netflix, viki)- 'Three 30-year-old best friends, Jinju, Eun-jung and Hanju each pursue different paths in both career and love. Despite life's difficulties, the three friends can always return home at the end of the day and support each other.'

lily fever (available w/subtitles on youtube)- 'The story revolves around the budding relationship between Kim Kyung Ju and Jang Se Rang who meet when Kyung Ju can't find her passport and has to go to her friend's house to try and find it.'

love alarm (netflix)- 'In a world in which an app alerts people if someone in the vicinity likes them, Kim Jojo experiences young love while coping with personal adversities.'

nevertheless (netflix)- 'The story of a romance between a man who is annoyed with relationships but likes to flirt and a woman who wants to date but does not believe in love.' (wlw side couple romance)

[thatdesklamp]

hey! i’m the anon that once asked you about ur english a level if you even care to remember lmaoo. I JUST SAW THE REBLOGGED POST WHERE ANOTHER READER SAID THEY HATED SATORU FROM IW AND I’M???

obviously everyone’s entitled to their own opinions. i think that’s the point of reading anything tbh, form your own opinions and decide whether you like something/someone or not, bUT I LITERALLY CANNOT HELP BUT DISAGREE SO STRONGLY 😭 i’ve literally never felt this strongly about a person’s opinion on a fictional character let alone how the fictional character was written in a FANFIC 😀

and obviously, no hate to them or whatever. as i said, their opinion is theirs, i just randomly felt the need to tell you mine (ik you never asked, i’m bored and my student finance situation is pissing me off so here i am lol). i think the reason why i feel so offended (jokingly haha) about any hate towards satoru in ur fic is bcz you’ve written him identical to how satoru in the actual anime/manga is, so i felt like it was a well aimed punch to canon!satoru and as his certified wife, i can’t stand by and watch this happen 😟

he makes dumb decisions sometimes but i think that has a lot to do with the fact that hebi is quite literally his oldest friend and allowing whatever feelings he has to get in the way of that (without knowing whether she likes him or not from his pov) is risky in terms of their friendship and where that’ll take them. like in the chapter where they had their first kiss, ofc, we as readers know why she backed off and what she meant by how she couldn’t “do this anymore” (or something along those lines), but he was never aware of her NON-PLATONIC feelings towards him, so i think (i say think bcz i’m the reader and you’re the author so what you say GOES) he was just confused by what she meant.

like if i were to randomly start telling you a story of my life with no context, and you hear me say names of my friends somewhere along that story, but i never TOLD you they were my friends, you’d think “oh who’s that?” until i clarified who they are to me. quite like how he was probably confused when she was explaining how she couldn’t allow herself to indulge in something that she thought wasn’t reciprocated. he had no context and was therefore just… stupid lmao 😭 he was criticising her for leaving even tho she promised to stay bcz he just didn’t understand (not saying it’s hebi’s fault in ANY way, she is MOTHER, i will defend her till the day i die).

yeah i have a lot of other reasons why satoru is not a bad person in ur fic (he’s literally a copy of himself in canon, kudos to ur BRILLIANT writing and characterisation of him) but ik you’re probably bored and i have to go turn the house heating on bcz uk weather is no joke 😀

Hello!!

This is so so funny and lovely to hear—I’ve heard so much variety in opinions on Gojo in my fic, mainly through the comments, and so it’s so lovely when people genuinely take a proper big opinion on either side of the ‘debate’. I fully get why people would be anti-Gojo just because we’re so invested in Hebi’s perspective and when she’s treated poorly/feeling shit, it does reflect poorly on him. I think that’s why I found it fun to write the Satoru-pov oneshots; IW is such a case of ‘unreliable narrator’-ism in a way that’s not always immediately evident, and so taking yourself out of Hebi’s perspective and immersing yourself in someone else’s can really help to get a more well-rounded view of all the characters, I guess.

But yeah, I’m glad you think IW Gojo is similar to canon Gojo! I used to struggle so much with his characterisation with him as a kid, which was I think partly because he was a child and that’s difficult anyway, but also because IW was one of the first things I’d written in… like, actual years, and I wasn’t that good at writing at that point.

I do think a lot of Satoru’s dumb actions come from ignorance, in whatever aspect, and I think it’s up to the reader as to how much they ‘blame’ him for that. Especially in the later chapters: should he have noticed Hebi’s degredation in mental health, and should he have done something about it if he did, even if she had never reached out to him? She did, after all, never actually confide in him about anything troubling her: I made it a point to state it multiple times. That, I guess, is where people’s opinions will inevitably differ, as to assigning both blame and responsibility. The idea will come up a lot next chapter, but—perhaps it’s almost similar to the Geto/Gojo situation. Yes, Gojo noticed a change, and yes, he tried to talk to Geto about it: but did he do enough? Should he have tried harder? Would it have even made a difference? People have different opinions on their split, too, because it’s not so set in stone. I think that’s the main reason people would dislike IW Satoru.

More about ignorance: you’re right, I can’t see him knowing about Hebi’s feelings. Satoru’s so much more of an active character than Hebi, who is intentionally very passive (if only ‘intentionally’ so I can have the slowburn make some degree of sense, lmao, but hey!). If he knew, I’d have to have him confront her about it. Like, I cannot see Gojo *not* pushing for something if he ever thought there was a possibility of her reciprocating. So, in my head, it can be concluded from his lack of action pre-kiss, that he absolutely doesn’t think she likes him back, and he also absolutely doesn’t want to fuck up the friendship. Again: it’s so, so, so important to him. I try to justify it in the oneshots—I know so much of this is #miscommunication, but controversial opinion, miscommunication adds to the drama and is fun under CERTAIN SITUATIONS, it’s not always a bad thing. LOL.

But also low-key I get why people wouldn’t like him. But also I get why people would, and would be more than fucked off with Hebi. And why people would be somewhere in the middle. Idk where I stand, they’re just both my lil pooks, yk. <3

But hell yeah! I love ur Satoru defence squad. And enjoy your heating (😀) and respite from student finance—I wouldn’t wish that process on my worst enemy </3

[petz5]

no one asked but real quick here r my opinions on ranma pairings that come to mind!! obv i’m not trying to say u Cant feel differently abt them, these r just my own thoughts

ranma/akane - if uve followed me for even half a day u already know this is my absolute fave one. yes it’s canon no that doesn’t make it boring, they understand each other on a level the other characters don’t even come close to

ranma/shampoo - die in a fire they r SO bad for each other (shampoo is significantly worse but ranma’s also not great to her)

ranma/ukyo - don’t love it but i suppose she’d be the next best choice after akane (at least as a pairing that could realistically happen in canon bc there’s no way something like ranryo would ever happen). i love ukyo but not with ranma, she doesn’t listen to his wants and honestly i think he’d hold her back, and i also don’t think she ever really was in love w him and just kinda felt obligated bc “oh shit if I cant kill him and I don’t marry him then I’ve wasted my life.” LOVE these two as besties tho

ranma/kodachi - literally dont feel like I need to say anything here, ive never seen anyone ship them

ranma/ryoga - not my cup of tea but I can see why ppl like it. genuinely it’s mostly bc i cant see ranma liking men lmao i mean he flirts w them for free food and whatever but he always gets grossed out when they try to respond. i personally see ranma as a lesbian

ranma/ryoga/akane - same as above except i understand it less. mmmmaybe if akane and ryoga both loved ranma but not each other?? ryoga and ranma had some actual chemistry, but akane and ryoga……… eeehh. speaking of!

akane/ryoga - don’t ship at all. ryoga is kinder to her than ranma if you’re judging on the surface, but he doesn’t fundamentally understand her the way ranma does and doubts her ability a lot more. (to the point ranma has to physically stop him in one episode to tell him “this is akane’s fight, she’s got this and will be mad if you meddle”) also the whole p-chan thing is creepy. i enjoy ryoga as character but i don’t think he fits w her at all

akane/shampoo - don’t like it. i mean i’ve read fics where shampoo admits to liking akane (or even just respecting her as a fellow female martial artist) but also like… that exists outside of canon shampoo to me lol. canon shampoo doesn’t care about other people, and she in particular is homophobic towards akane to her face

akane/ukyo - i like it to an extent! if it were in canon i wouldn’t want it to go beyond like akane blushing when ukyo saves her and maybe offhandedly saying something like “she’s so cool” and ukyo, after spending some time w akane, admitting to herself that she can understand why ranma likes her. i think it’s cute to think abt

akane/kodachi - i love this but only one-sidedly. in canon i’d want kodachi to be Like That with ranma purely to rile up akane bc she wants her attention. i mean literally already in canon kodachi seems to not know what to do once she actually gets ranma other than dangle him over her alligator and wait for akane to save his ass. it’d be a funny twist for her to be doing all this just bc she wants to see akane and doesn’t think to just talk to her like a normal person

shampoo/mousse - don’t like at all

shampoo/ukyo - no real thoughts but I don’t love it. maybe similar to how I feel abt ranryo but while my feelings for that as neutral/positive this is neutral/negative

ukyo/ryoga - i can see why ppl like it and I believe I did too back in 2011 or so when i first watched it, but i feel like most ppl who ship this have only watched the anime (valid! but their manga partners are both great characters imo). I didn’t rlly see it at all upon rewatch and reading the manga put the final nail in the coffin. they’d be fun as friends tho! i like that they have a silly friendship similar to akane and mousse’s friendship where they’re more Worsties than anything but will hang out with and help each other if they need to

ukyo/tsubasa - no. i have very mixed feelings abt tsubasa as is, but ukyo has no interest in him and sees him as an annoyance so i wouldn’t want her to be w someone she doesn’t like (side note: used he/him for tsubasa bc he’s very open abt being a crossdresser. i know that crossdresser is used as a transphobic insult in the series, but… eehhh… tsubasa isn’t really like ranma and konatsu who are both pretty blatantly not cis. he declares himself as a guy all the time, which yeah ranma does too, but ranma’s whole character development is how that breaks down for him)

ukyo/konatsu - yes, i think they’re sweet and konatsu is very supportive of ukyo’s goals. i think this pairing would need more development before i’d really want it declared Officially Canon. i mean it is, but obv ukyo still has some feelings to work out similarly to ryoga and his canon gf, and i think she’d need to more clearly let go of ranma before this could truly blossom in canon. i love konatsu and i love ukyo and i think they’d be good girlfriends after a little work

ryoga/akari - love it, it’s sweet and i LOVE akari. like I said i think ryoga needs to work thru some shit/let go of akane to truly appreciate akari, and it’s annoying he’s still attached to her when he has a gf but i understand it’s difficult to just Stop liking someone you’ve liked for prob a solid year or so just bc u got asked out by someone else

these are all the ones I can think of rn but ur more than welcome to ask if u want my thots on any other ones lol

[rawrtriesagain]

Long post incoming idk how to do Read More on mobile, sorry. Tldr: just a post abt my writing as usual and stuff about my interest in lwa (nothing crazy)

I know I talk abt my old fuckin fics all the fuckin time (like Jesus theyre old enough to be considered toddlers now) but anyway this is my vent blog and y’all will never hear the end of it so guess what still has an absolute GRIP over my mind after 3 years

Its forest of arcan- im jk its dreamer of stars lmaooo. I reread it right now for the funsies after months of forgetting abt it, and each time I read it I think “surely I am over this story and can move on with my life” and like the first half of the story its like yea I kinda am over it haha but then the second half just obliterates the thoughts and runs me over and I just lay in my bed and contemplate my life and go into like a State of Emotions and simply have to talk about it (but it also could be because its 4am at the time of writing this)

I do think it mostly has to do with nostalgia though. Truthfully I’m probably not able to write smth like that again because it was 100% written completely on emotion and quite actually everything bad Diana was feeling in the story was smth i was also going through so it was easy to… write a vent and disguise it as a fic LOL. But I was also running on the high of being in love with my best friend which also really easily translated to everything going on in the fic blah blah nobody remembers it but me so this means nothing to anybody and im being cringe and gay on main (not even my main)

ANYWAY the point of my babbling here is that honestly I miss having that intense amt of emotions that would spur that level of creative writing? Like yea forest of arcana (not updated in over a year) is fun and all but it definitely isnt written on a personal level like dreamer was. I also just genuinely miss writing lol and its like ok bitch why dont you write then and then its like good question why dont i?? I probably still enjoy writing more than i do drawing and i know my blogs say otherwise but the two mediums are both definitely different outlets for my life. Maybe i would change my mind the day my art is actually good tho 😛

Im laffing rn seeing me talk abt this “deep” different outlets of life cause like when u think abt it im also literally just Currently describing little witch fanfic and fanart since thats all i do LOL. Not that theres anything wrong with lwa being my Muse of course, but it just adds humor in whatever the emo hell im going on about

Another side sad mini vent but i dont think im as into lwa as i used to be which also waters down my interests in doing things, but im literally not interested in any other media or fandom rn either so lwa stays my hyperfixation. Plz dont be alarmed lol im not saying im NOT into lwa anymore since diana is still a fuckin god to me like 10/10 chara design and vibes, but its definitely not as strong as it was when i first joined the fandom 3 years ago. And you know what maybe it has to do with me not watching little witch academia in full in those entire three years after i first watched it lmao. Most of the friends ive made in the fandom are pretty much gone too which is sad but is what it is. Sometimes i get a burst of seratonin when i think about smth diakko and definitely like now when i reread my fics i also remember the Emotions i had for these Gays and it like floods back for a bit like a buff.

I think something im very interested in for both the spark of writing and also the revitalization for my love for diakko is that i wanna do like a oneshot slice of life series for diakko. Just something easy, cute, subjectively funny, and a vibe. I still fantasize abt diakko shenanigans even if mundane and i wish i could also capture it more in my art but im not at that level yet, so writing it is. First i probably need to rewatch lwa in full since ive forgotten most everything except for key diana scenes haha oopsie And sucy world episode that was a good fuckin episode.

Anyway thanks for reading this far if you did lol sorry for the LONG ASS NONSENSE POST. Sometimes i see how i type in my blog and to people and compare it to my writing and its like where the hell did my comprehensive english go. Sorry if this was just hard to read from the lack of grammar and punctuation but thats showbiz anyway stay tuned for the next diana content ttyl bffl rofl xD zomg

[dollslayer]

Please continue the Scandal-based Steve fic, you write the best angst ever!!!!

A/N: As you wish! Thank you so much for reading, hope this is up to par 💖 (ps- if you commented on the first one I'm tagging you for this follow up, no permanent tags tho don't worry!)

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter

Warnings: pseudo-cheating, angst, alcohol consumption, swearing, love triangle, secret relationship

Part One HERE I Main Masterlist

It’s been an entire week since you walked out on Steve. He never did find the words to tell you that he wasn’t going to leave Peggy, but you never found the words to explicitly leave him, either. You were both in a game of chicken that you’d unknowingly started and neither of you had found the courage to finish it.

It was so easy when you were swept up in the moment, a storm of anger and hurt that finally came to a breaking point. But now you were past it and found yourself lost. The only thing making you feel better was seeing that Steve was having just as hard a time as you were. He wasn’t as outgoing, he was making dumb mistakes, he was off his game. You didn’t necessarily want Steve to suffer but it was reassuring in some way, to know that he felt anything for you. You just wanted this entire mess to be over.

But when the mess was over, what would you want to come of it? Do you even want to be with Steve any more? Or do you just not want him to be with Peggy? Thinking it through, what you felt for Steve was real, real enough to pull on your heartstrings and real enough to hurt. After all of the grief that Steve has caused you you’re not sure that you could properly forgive him. Maybe over time but you couldn’t see yourself trying to rebuild your relationship when the two of you had so much else to focus on.

So now you were caught in some sort of relationship purgatory because you were too afraid to end it. And he was too much of a coward to admit he’s been in the wrong this whole time. Honestly you can’t justify Steve’s actions on any level when it came down to it. His men are in the midst of war and fighting Hydra and he really thinks that a relationship is going to be their saving grace and reassurance? Bull.

On some level, no matter how deep it is, Steve saw something for her that he didn’t see in you and he felt some affection for her. Maybe saying that the relationship was just a front was his way of covering his real feelings for her. But he’d be damned if he thought he could have his cake and eat it too. You’d spent many a night cycling through this thought process and ending up right where you started.

Getting nowhere in your deliberating you decided to bury yourself in your work. You’d always felt that it was fulfilling work, you helped civilians and military alike with your work and you were damn good at it. So you plunged head-first into your codebreaking and strategy-forming and put your in-limbo relationship on the back burner.

Throwing yourself head first into work turned out to be in your best interest for the time being. The last two missions had been a success but per usual, you had gone unrecognized. That’s fine, you didn’t need to be patted on the back every time you excelled but every once in a while it would be nice. And thanks to your codebreaking, once again, you find yourself stuck in the corner of the dingy pub you had lost your mind in just a week ago. Unappreciated. Or so you thought.

You sat back thinking Steve wasn’t under Peggy’s thumb this time but he was trying his best to make the most of the moment over a pint with the rest of the commandos. And you were back in what was becoming your usual corner of the pub, sipping on a dry red wine. It was bitter on your tongue but after the week you’ve had you needed a drink, even if it meant seeing them.

“You did good back there, thank you” Bucky’s voice shook you from your thoughts. “Okay if I sit?”

You were so caught off guard by anyone really speaking to you, let alone praising you that you couldn’t find anything to say. You just stared at Bucky with wide eyes before nodding slowly. He settled into the chair next to you and took a swig from his bottle.

“You know, on the outside you don’t seem like you’re gonna be much but when you put yourself to work… it’s somethin’ else. You’re a natural.” Bucky told you.

“Um, thanks, I guess?” You brushed off the compliment to give him one of your own, “We wouldn’t be sitting here right now if it weren’t for you all. I’m just some codebreaker, you’re the one doing the leg work”

“Give yourself some credit, you deserve it.” Bucky patted you on the shoulder and for the first time in weeks you felt a spark of genuine happiness. You shyly smiled up at Bucky and took a sip of your wine.

“So, you wanna tell me what’s got Steve snappin’ his cap at everyone? You two break up?”

Your eyes rounded in surprise. You were so sure that no one had known. You were so sure Steve didn’t want anyone to so it didn’t occur to you that Bucky might’ve known.

“Did… Steve tell you? About us?”

“Didn’t have to. I ran after him to talk a few weeks ago and found you two smoochin’”

Your face heated in slight embarrassment but you nodded in understanding.

“I just… it’s not fair that he should show her off like she’s his sweetheart while I’m treated like some dirty secret. I gave him a piece of my mind and he wasn’t able to cope. But I don’t know where this leaves us. He didn’t split but there’s just no way we could go on like this.”

Bucky looked a little miffed but grunted in affirmation. He shook his head and clenched his jaw.

“I knew he and Peggy weren’t for real but what he’s been doin’ to ya ain’t right. Sorry Steve’s been such a knucklehead. My two cents, you go back to him and confront him. And if he’s too much of a punk to see what he’s got you walk.”

You shakily exhale and take another gulp before setting your palms flat against the table.

“Easier said than done, but you’re right”

“I love him, he’s my brother but forget him if he’s too much of a jerk to know what he’s got. But for now let’s just get pleasantly drunk, whaddya say?”

Rather than giving him an answer you downed the rest of your glass and put it down on the table. Bucky was looking at you with a toothy grin.

“Atta girl”

____

The evening had been as promised, you were pleasantly drunk and for the first time in weeks you were letting yourself enjoy the moment. Bucky was funny and kind to you when no one else had even batted an eye and you found yourself grateful for his company that night.

You were humming to yourself as you walked back to your room but just when you reached for the door a hand reached out for your wrist. You didn’t need to look up to know that the hand belonged to Steve. You denied yourself the comfort you found in physical contact and reminded yourself of the situation. You sighed and looked up to him expectantly.

“You and Buck? Just what the hell’s going on?” Steve demanded.

“Oh so now you want to talk to me? You only care now that you’re not my main focus?” You shot right back at him. You swayed slightly, tipsy still from the wine.

Steve’s jaw tensed and he schooled his features though you could tell he was simmering on the inside.

“No”, he said calmly, “I just wanted to know. If you’re trying to make me jealous it’s not going to work.”

“Well I wasn’t trying but apparently it is working.”

Steve’s hands balled into fists and you could see veins beginning to spout in his hands. He didn’t say anything so you continued.

“I give you an ultimatum and tell you how much you’ve hurt me and you only come back once I turn my attention to your best friend? He’s the only one that’s said a nice word to me this whole time. The rest have been caught up in the lie you’ve been spinning with Peggy!”

Your anger was getting the better of you but you were letting it. Anger got you through it the first time, it’ll get you out no matter how it ends.

“That’s not fair-”

“You’re not fair, Steve. The way you’ve been treating me, it isn’t right! I gave you a choice and you’ve been dragging your feet. I’m going to ask you one more time, Steve. Me? Or Her?”

Steve was silent again, you could tell he wasn’t thinking about what he wanted, but he was forming an answer. Deep down you knew it would come to this. He’s never going to hold your hand in public, there’s never going to be an apartment in Brooklyn, there’s never going to be an us between you. Maybe there never was.

Steve started to call your name but you shook your head and scrunched your eyes closed in a mixture of frustration and pain. Tears were welling in your eyes but you’d be damned if Steve Rogers would see a single one fall. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you, he never did.

“I’m sorry…” Steve offered lamely.

“No, you’re not.” Maybe that wasn’t fair of you to say, Steve did look to be in genuine emotional pain over this but right now you didn’t care. If he had felt any true remorse he wouldn’t have let himself get anywhere with Peggy in the first place.

“I really did want all of that with you, I still do. We could still have it, we just need to get through this, please.”

You shook your head and started ushering him towards the door.

“No, Steve. That’s all gone now. You had your chance but I’m worth more than how you treat me.”

You opened the door and waited for him to leave.

“I think you should go. I don’t have anything left to say to you.”

With that Steve sighed heavily but left with his head hung between his shoulders. You could’ve sworn he was crying but you didn’t care if he was. He made this happen and he didn’t treat you right. So this is what happened.

Tears finally make their way down your face but you don’t feel sad. It’s cathartic almost, like a weight lifted. You’d probably put in for a transfer with the SSR just to save the team the grief but for now you’d keep your head down, keep working. Damn Steve Rogers for not seeing in you what you saw in yourself and damn anyone else that didn’t either.

[serena-hart-09]

Hi Serena :D

Top 5 characters in Obey me! and why?

Hey Tia!!! (≧∇≦)ﾉ

Thank you for asking!💖💖💖💖

Ok so...... the list is from (5th - 1st)

Get ready for this one cause it LONG.

No. 5 : Solomon:

well mostly because the whole, "Yo, He is Shady Af" just made me want to write about him more in my fics, (Even tho I haven't wrote much for him aside from some chapters in my very first multi-chapter fic-)

Plus he is funny af sometimes (Tho he a Granpa-)

No. 4: Beelzebub:

ok so, I do like him mostly cause he a soft boi.

And also cause he is probably the balance between the good/soft and dark

and also cause he has genuinely good moments in the game (Thanks devs! Part 1)

Its also cause I love characters like him. (like that one gently holds meme image-)

It's also cause I headcanon that his true demon form is basically just like his design in Shin Megami Tensei

No. 3: Leviathan:

Otaku.

That's it.

He is everything I wish to be as an otaku.

Like the fact that he not only cosplays, but plays video games? and also tries to watch anime??? while living in the chaos of House of Lamentation??? while also somehow studying somehow????

like pls tell me your ways sensei

Also, he is so CUTE

and he is a snek boi what else do you need more?

Plus, sometime he very relatable af

No. 2: Simeon:

Boomer. Good.

Has a smile on his face that can even scare Lucifer when mad? Perfect.

Teases the heck out of Lucifer sometimes? Even more Perfect.

Is a good parent to Luke? Excellent.

Interesting character? I mean he does has the whole mystery around him for his "special" powers and all.... plus that point of him is like something that I do actually think about and make small wips about....

No. 1: LUCIFER MY BELOVED- (Sorry not sorry-) (I couldn't stop myself from doing that-) (Get ready for the intense passionate rant of a simp, on this one-)

HE IS PERFECT.

The truth is, I like characters who look scary af on the outside but are absolutely adorable and cute on inside. (Me and my friend refer to those type of characters as "Teddy Bear Characters")

Like when I compare him to my other husbandos (in other games) I only start to like them only after a certain amount of time is passed, like Kiryu (Yakuza), Nishiki (Yakuza) and even Jumin Han (Mystic Messenger).

But the moment I saw a video of lesson 20 (it was the video of THAT moment hehehehe-¯\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯ ) in youtube (for the first time), I was like, "OK WHO TF IS THIS HANDSOME MF-" and then I proceeded to download the game by giving up my other mobile game-

I mean I did got pissed at him for many scenes......

But then lesson 22-C hit me like a truck and now I'm floored.

HOW- HOW CAN HE BE SO CUTE LIKE THAT

THAT BLUSH

THAT TIME WHEN HE CALLED THE MC MASTER I-

SIR YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BE THAT CUTE AND HANDSOME AT THE SAME TIME- *cue that meme with ambulance*

Plus, I like the fact that, his character get more fleshed out in S2 like there is a moment that I absolutely love, its in the Bloody Moon Event (I forgot the lesson no-) it's the very end of it- like when Asmo and luci both are tied and only one vote, that is luci's vote had remained, and then he voted for Asmo- (correct me if I am wrong) That was a very endearing moment.

and go ahead and sue me for loving Luci's song

again it's not because the song is like how you expect out from luci, its the lyrics that make love it. like the lyrics do have the 'I am possessive af vibe' but they still manage to make him adorable and lovely (imo) (also cause his song is easiest to translate when I want study choukai, [listening practice, japanese]) (Yes, I translate songs to study japanese-)

and don't get me started about his goofy moments-

like one time I wheezed so loud that my mom got worried

Plus, truth to be told I like when a character becomes from serious to goofy af (without even realizing it-)

And in some cases, such as being kind of overly protective of your family is something that I find endearing and also at small level relatable

And also cause he is my type- (don't judge me pls-)

and also the FANART

LIKE ALL OF HIS FANARTS- (especially the true demon form/ level 4 form)

I hope I did not rant away too much...... (^///^) (I did in Lucifer's didn't I?-)

Anyways, I hope you have a great day!💖💖💖✨✨✨

[ddaenggtan]

black irises in the sunshine | kth

anger is everything. other gods tease you for the short fuse, but it comes with the territory. people have called you stupid, have called you dumb, oafish, useless, incompetent, insolent, rude, arrogant. all of it. insults and mockery flung at you, but even your skin isn’t thick enough to deal with constant abuse. it’s the exact reason you keep going to the underground, knuckles bloody and bruised, fighting anyone that dared enter the cage. it’s the reason you go to the clubs, surround yourself with mortals and their writhing bodies. it’s there that you see him the first time, voice husky as it rolls through the room. it’s there you find someone who treats you differently than the rest. you just never expected him to be one of the muses. | monsters and gods pt 3 (masterlist)

pairing | taehyung x reader

genre/warnings | greek god au, calliope!taehyung, ares!reader, theres a lot of violence and it does get descriptive so be aware of that, none of the main characters other than ares get hurt and its not uncalled for or anything in a narrative sense, so just be aware of that; there are mentions of other idols, but if you can guess them you get a cookie because they are Vague; suuuuper bisexual Ares, Ares Can Step On Me, like I am SO gay for her it isn’t funny; explicit smut ft: cunnilingus, taeHUNG bc hes got MASSIVE SCHLONG,  some body worship kind of and then just....regular worship? like? idk how to explain that? lots of praise and lots or orgasms

word count | 14k | cross posted to ao3

a/n | HOOOOOOO this has been sitting in my google docs for literal months waiting for an ending and i decided to try to get it out for tae's birthday bUT that didn't work because i have a Job and shit so YEET I GUESS HAPPY FUCKIN NEW YEAR??? LIKE??? YEEEEEEEEEEEEE this fic is very near to me because Ares is my sweet sad angry babie and i love her, and i love tae and i love suho and i love the muses and i just........lOVE this fic like i think this is currently my favorite of the mag series so!! i hope yall also enjoy it!!!! yall are welcome to send me messages about this even tho I'm terrible at replying to them in a timely manner!! thanks to everyone who helped me with this, and everyone who has expressed interest in it, and everyone who has ever read anything of mine, because you're genuinely the best people ever, and this is literally a gift to y'all because you deserve it. 

Fuck, that was too hard .

The guy across from you goes flying, hitting the chain link wall of the cage harder than you intended. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, and even holding back, you've got a better buzz than even the best nectar can give. Your blood sings as the guy gets back up, and you almost wish you could remember his name, because he's put up a hell of a fight. For a mortal, anyway. 

He charges at you again, and time slows as your vision tunnels. You can see the feint as he decides on it, how he hesitates in bringing his left up. You wait, watching him get closer and closer. You start to dart to your left, letting him think he's got you, before you side-step and dart to your right instead. His punch goes wide as you steady your balance and move. The top of your foot connects with his ribcage and the resulting crack of bone is lost amid the cheers and yells of the audience. 

Your opponent steps back and you're proud of the way he doesn't show the pain. He doesn't wince, doesn't move to touch the spot you hit, just tightens his stance and clenches his jaw. It's only you that notices the hitch in his breath, the way he flinches with every inhale. Your eyes narrow at that, zeroing in on the rib. You'd meant to just crack it, had been holding back most of your strength to keep from hurting him too seriously, but as he steps forward, you can see the way he grits his teeth against the pain. 

The fight leaves you immediately, like a bucket of cold water straight to the chest, and you drop your hands. 

"Yield." He just stares at you, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Yield to me, and then go to the doctor."

"I'm not gonna yield," He says. He spits a mouthful of blood out onto the floor. "I'm not weak."

"Seriously, dude," You insist. "You're not gonna win this, and I don't want to hurt you more." 

His scoff has you seeing red. "As if a princess like you could hurt me."

Your fist connects with his face before either of you registers that you've moved. There's a voice in the back of your head reminding you that he's just mortal, he can't take the same kind of beating you can, but it's lost in the haze of fury. The next thing you know, the ref is dragging you away and slamming you into the cage wall. Your opponent is being dragged out - you still don't know his name - and he looks beaten senseless. Victory rolls through you accompanied by a sick satisfaction at the way his blood looks decorating the canvas beneath your feet. 

It lasts for less than an hour. It's always like this; the thrill of the fight, the burn of success, it's gone faster than you can blink. It's what drives you to keep fighting, to keep going to match after match, just to seek out the under-the-table stuff afterwards. It's never enough, not anymore. Back in the old days, they'd let you fight anything. Bears, bulls, lions, giants, anything they could get a noose around long enough to point it at a colosseum. That was a long time ago, though, before all the rights movements happened. You won't lie: you miss fighting beasts like that. The sheer power and strength they have, the survival instinct that makes them such fierce competitors, it's so much better than the rules and regulations of the mortal world now. Fights have gotten dull, rehearsed, more like a performance or a show than an actual fight. People make more money losing than they do winning and it's made the world boring. 

You flex your hand as you open the door to your favorite bar. Something caught it at some point in the last fight, a cheekbone or a tooth, and it stings a little. Doesn't hurt, not exactly, not for a goddess, but it did enough that you feel it at all, which means it couldn't have been anything but torture for the guy on the other end. The bartender waves at you and gets your usual ready as you sit, and you idly wonder if Busted Rib Guy will be okay. It looked painful, for a human, and you'd tried to hold back, but…

Well, you weren't really responsible for what happened to condescending little fucks, were you?

You sip the bourbon, enjoying the burn as it goes down. The lights are dim, tonight. You're glad. You don't want to deal with people looking at you, men coming over to talk to you, trying to advise you on how to properly bandage your knuckles or how to avoid the bruise on your cheek next time. If you had wanted to avoid it, you would have. You'd intended it to hurt worse, honestly, but that first guy'd had a weaker right hook than you expected. 

You look around, wondering if anyone here would provide a decent distraction for the night. There's a pretty brunette in the corner with carefully crafted braids, and as your eyes travel, you imagine what's hiding beneath the silk and leather. You're pulled from the thought by the sound of music, and you curse under your breath. You forgot that it's an open mic night and you'd meant to go to the bar across town instead. Irritation colors your vision; every open mic night is awful, full of lofty poets talking about their trauma and wannabe Taylor Swifts thinking they're on the same level as Sappho. Ah, now that was a girl with a set of pipes. You miss her, wonder what she would say to the butchering of whatever song you're about to hear.

The voice that comes isn't what you expect. It's smooth and deep. The world turns to velvet around you as the voice wanders from one speaker to another, creating a mesmerizing multi-dimensional effect despite the way the singer doesn't ever leave the stage. You turn, knuckles white around your bourbon glass; he's utterly magnetic, every eye in the room trained on him as he purrs into the vintage mic. Long fingers are wrapped around the scuffed metal, decorated with jewels that glitter in the dim light of the bar. You can smell the lingering cigarette smoke from the guy beside you and the Jäger from the girl two stools down and for once, you don't even care. He's captivating, voice travelling between speakers in the bar and coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. 

Your eyes don't leave him, and you wonder if you can memorize the way the blond waves fall against his forehead if you stare long enough. 

The red seeps away from you, slinking back into the corners of your mind, settling once more into a low thrum under your skin. It fades into the background of this man's voice, the charisma that rolls off him in waves as he pulls the mic in close just to push it to the side with a teasing smirk. It settles something in your chest that hasn't been calm since the fight in Athens so long ago. 

The music fades out sooner than you'd like, and he gives a slight bow before wandering into the crowd. You do your best to follow him, but the gold of his hair disappears almost immediately, lost in the throng of people around the stage waiting to speak to him. You turn back around, downing the next bit of bourbon that Suho pours you. 

"I know," He says with a grin. You cock a brow at him, not having said anything he could agree with. "He's good. That's what you were thinking, right? He's why we're so packed on open mics. Got the audio and lighting guy whipped, so he's got all these special effects, too. Drives people crazy.”

"He's alright," You mutter. You toss a few bills down on the bartop and step back. Suho gives you a courteous nod as you leave. The bouncer gives you a dirty look when he spots the lit cigarette between your lips, but he knows better than to try to tell you otherwise. You've taught him better. 

You lean back against the brick wall of the alley and take a drag. The warm smoke fills your lungs and you close your eyes. It's a different kind of burn than you're used to, a distraction from the crawling sensation that drives you to fight. It's calmer, more controlled. Feels like the smoke from Hestia's fires. Feels like home. 

"Never expected to see you here," A voice calls out. It's deep and startling in the darkness, but you don't jump. You just open your eyes, exhale, and look to where it came from. 

The singer stands before you in the same undone white button up and black tee he performed in. He doesn't have a cig, doesn't seem to have much of any reason to be outside. He moves almost lazily, as if he doesn't even need to, just wants to, and when his gaze flicks up to meet yours, your vision fills just for a breath with every opponent you've ever faced lying at your feet. 

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" The words slip from your tongue before you can stop them. It's not his fault, the voice in your head says, he didn't mean it that way, but still, your blood is thrumming now that he's here and you want to know what he's talking about. Want to know why he thinks you wouldn't be here when there's attractive people and good bourbon and you've never seen this man before in your life. Want to know why he already seems to think you aren't civilized enough to be at a bar, why he spoke but all you heard was Zeus' voice in your memories.

"Exactly what I said. Should I be clearer?"

"Yeah, probably," you spit. Yet another person that assumes you're stupid, that you don't understand basic languages, as if you haven't been speaking them since the ancient times. As if you couldn't speak circles around him if you wanted. "Unless you want your teeth on the fucking ground."

"Good to know the stories are true." He tsks and you're filled with a strange sense of disappointment and fury, both at him and yourself. Your vision turns red at the edges and the cigarette between your fingers is crushed in your grip. He pays no mind to it, just saunters past with a lazy, swaying gait that draws your eyes to his hips and then down the long leather-clad legs. "See you around, Ares."

"That's not my fucking name," You yell after him. He doesn't respond when you shout your actual name, the one you chose, on your own, as a middle finger to the Olympians. "Get it right next time, dickwad."

He turns the corner of the alley and the streetlight catches his face just enough for you to see the smirk he wears. For once in your life, you're torn; you want to smash his face in, yes, because how dare this random guy speak to you like that when you could kill him with one finger to the right pressure point. You also find your skin's hotter than usual, stretched too thin over your bones, and you want him to run his hands over you until it feels right again.

Until it feels like it did when he was singing. 

How did he know my title?

The thought comes unbidden, days later, with the desperate hit of a palm against your shoulder. You've got the woman in a headlock, patiently waiting for her to pass out completely so the fight can be called, and your mind is wandering. 

How did the singer know who you are? You hadn't thought anything of it at the time, distracted by fury and frustration, but with time comes a special kind of clarity. You've never seen him before, not that you know anyway, yet he didn't hesitate to call you Ares. The only ones who know of your kind are your kind, but you haven't seen any of your siblings among mortals in a long time. You thought you knew the other gods and goddesses, but maybe not. It has been a while since you stepped foot in the golden city.

The woman in your grip goes slack and you release her. You're still lost in thought as the ref calls the match and leads you out of the makeshift ring. The cheers of the audience are background noise at this point, akin to static or the buzz of electricity, and you pay them no mind as you head to collect your winnings. You didn't even get any kind of buzz from success this time, too immersed in the way the singer walked and talked and looked. The image of his smirk is burned into your retinas. 

"Yeah, you didn't hear? He just got out of the hospital. They had to keep him overnight because they thought he might puncture a lung. I heard that if it had been a little worse, they would've had to wire his jaw shut." You stop, fingers brushing over the stack of bills you don't even remember being handed. You look up, making eye contact with the guy whispering nearby. Your suspicions are confirmed when his friend smacks his arm and juts his chin in your direction before they both disappear into the crowd. 

You shove your way outside, frustration creeping through you and coloring your vision. You manage to keep it contained long enough for you to make it to the alley behind the warehouse, but it explodes from you in a rush of thrown dumpsters and sheet metal. 

Fuck , you never meant to hurt him like that. You told him, you fucking told him to yield, it isn't your fault he didn't listen. It's not your fault that he went and insulted you, acted like he was better than you just by virtue of being a dude, as if you weren't worshipped in the old days for the power you had and the blessings you could give. You'd held back, through all of it, you'd told him to yield, and he insulted you. It wasn't your fault. 

You slide to the ground, running a shaking hand through your hair. It isn't your fault , you repeat. You close your eyes and take deep breaths, the way Hestia taught you, willing the fury to dissipate. It's like a fire in your veins, burning and bubbling your skin until you can't resist anymore. You take another breath. It isn't your fault. You tried. You offered an out. It isn't your fault. Fuck, what was his name? 

With a growl that quickly morphs into a scream, you kick the dumpster once more before stalking off into the darkness. You need a fucking drink and you're gonna find a distraction in someone else if it's the last thing you do. 

The club is packed when you get there; you're not usually a fan of clubs like this, too full of people who are too friendly, but they're perfect for nights like tonight. You don't even need to wait in line, just slip the bouncer a 50 as you pass, and the bartenders are quick to spot you. You're pretty notorious in the city for over-paying, which means you're knocking back bourbon before you have a chance to ask for it. There are people everywhere, pressed up against both sides of you while the bass thrums in your throat, and it takes you longer than you're proud of to realize why. 

There's a band playing, apparently. They're not bad; the vocalist isn't anything like the singer from Suho's, but it doesn't make you want to tear your ears off, so you consider it a success. 

You're dancing before you remember deciding to. Everything's a blur when you get the itch in your bones, the need to make someone bleed. To feel something that isn't rage or condescension. People are even closer here on the dance floor, suffocating in their proximity, but there's a woman grinding her ass into you, and it sparks the dying fire in your gut. The beat of the music drowns your own heart, and it's all flashing lights and heat and a body pressed against yours that is all too willing.

She follows when you go back to the bar for another drink, and giggles when you lick salt from her wrist before downing tequila. Her hands are wrapped in the leather of your jacket as she kisses you, your own resting lightly on her hips. She laughs against your lips and says something you don't hear before ordering another drink. Something makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You take the brief reprieve to look around the club, searching for whatever it is that has you on alert. You find him on the upper level of the club, leaned over the balcony with a drink in hand. You can't make out his expression, exactly; it's too far away and too guarded. But you'd know him anywhere now. The singer knocks back whatever's in his glass, eyes never leaving yours. You don't know why he's here, if he comes here often or if the Fates are having a laugh at your expense, but you do know you want to make the most of it.

The girl is back, pressing a heated kiss to your lips and drawing your attention from him. You return it, nipping at her lips and getting a small gasp in return. You smirk and bite your way down her neck. She's breathy in your ear, hitched moans lost in the beat of the music, but you barely hear her as you suck bruises into the skin of her neck. He's still watching you. His drink is gone and he's gripping the bannister of the balcony, rings glinting in the light. You wonder if the cool metal could soothe the burn in your bones. You want to know if he can bring that calmness from before back, if he can soothe the frenzy in your mind with his hands the way he can with his voice. Just imagining it has you soaking through to your jeans.

The girl makes a particularly loud noise in your ear and you're brought out of your thoughts. As if he can sense it, the singer straightens. He gives you one last look before disappearing back into the crowd, and you wonder if you're imagining the disdain in it. You draw back from the girl's neck, about to tell her to find her friends when she slides her hands in your hair and tugs.

The burn in your blood is back, now, and you hope this girl is prepared for what awaits her.

"You're here early," Suho says when he spots you in the nearly empty bar the next night. He's not wrong, either; you skipped the fights tonight completely. There was no buzz last time, no relief, and you have no reason to believe there would be tonight. Not with the way the singer captivates your thoughts. 

Besides, you have enough money leftover from the previous few to last a couple days.

"What, did you decide not to kick someone's ass before getting wasted?" Suho doesn't wither at the look you give him, just pours you a couple fingers of bourbon and slides the glass over. "Or did they just stop letting you in completely?"

"I might change my mind if you don't shut up," You tell him. There's no real heat behind it. You've known Suho for years now, been coming to his bar for so long it almost feels like home. You're almost friends at this point. 

It helps that he knows when to bite his tongue so he doesn't get his teeth knocked out.

"Seriously though, I don't think I've ever seen you here this early. Especially not on mic nights." You're very careful in your lack of a reaction to his words. You'd seen the workers setting up for it when you came in, and even if you hadn't, you know when mic night is. You've spent enough time avoiding it.

"Does he sing every time?" You ask in lieu of an explanation. You don't look away from the amber liquid in your glass, letting the silence hang as the bartender does his best to follow your thought process. 

"Taehyung? Most weeks, yeah. It's been a nice change from the usual drunken karaoke. He goes around to some of the other places in town, too. Apparently he just likes to sing." 

"Taehyung," You repeat. The name rolls from your tongue a bit awkwardly. It's more than you expected, somehow, but you can't place exactly how . Just...more. "Is he always that good?"

"Oh, yeah. We have regulars now for mic night because of him. He's got a whole fan club and everything."

"Hm." You drain the rest of your bourbon and Suho refills it. He leaves you in peace then, serving some others that appear at the bar. 

The place fills faster than you can blink. That's what it feels like, anyway. It's like one moment there's you and a handful of other people scattered around, and now you're being jostled between some dude a million feet tall that definitely doesn't look old enough to be here and a girl with her tits up to her throat and surrounded by a cloud of perfume so thick that it starts a migraine behind your eyes almost instantly. She flirts with Suho a little, likely trying to score free drinks, and you roll your eyes. She pouts at him when he gives her the total, batting eyelashes that go on for miles, and for once, you wish Suho would just give in and comp the drinks. 

"I'll pay for them," You say. She was definitely saying something, maybe you should have been paying attention to it, but fuck , this migraine is only getting worse the longer she stands there. "I'll pay for your drinks."

"Oh, thanks," She says. Her smile is hesitant, and quickly turns apologetic as she takes in the boots and the ripped jeans and the leather jacket. "Um, I'm not...I don't, uh…"

"Do I look like I want to fuck you, sweetie?" She looks a little affronted and a laugh escapes you. You lean closer, letting your breath ghost over her cheek as you speak in her ear to be heard better. "If I wanted to fuck you senseless, you'd know it. And I can guarantee you it would be a hell of a lot better than the watered down rat piss this guy's giving you." 

When you lean back, her face is flushed and she's stammering. You smirk and hand her the drinks she'd ordered. 

"Too bad you’re not, you don’t, huh?" You tell her. The patronizing tone isn't lost on her, nor is your mockery of her earlier words, and she shuts her mouth with an audible click before strutting off. Suho glares at you as he pours more bourbon.

"Can you please try not to run off my patrons?" He mutters. "Some of us actually need money to live."

"Some of us would like decently timed refills and to not choke on perfume," You quip. "And better bourbon, for that matter." He hisses something about what he's giving you being top quality but you tune him out, throwing one leg over the stool Perfume Girl vacated. You'd like to keep just a little bit of personal space. 

Across the bar, you catch a brief glimpse of the girl from the night before and you wince. Her neck is thoroughly bruised, and you catch a peek of bruises and scratches on her back as she shrugs her jacket on. You didn’t mean to be so rough with her, even if she had been into it; you’re usually pretty good about remembering that the mortals are just that - mortal - and as such have to be handled delicately. They’re so fragile, it feels like they could break with a strong wind. Guilt settles in your gut and turns the bourbon in your glass to cough syrup. You’ve half a mind to just leave before she sees you, are about to turn and do exactly that, but the speakers screech to life and the deafening feedback from the mic keeps you glued to your seat. 

The crowd quiets even as the excitement ramps up, all talk silencing but for the occasional hushed whispers here and there. The first few notes of the song echo through the speakers, and a spotlight appears on him. 

He looks different this time, his hair dyed a vibrant blue that matches the glinting jewels in his ears and on his hands. He's an absolute vision and you wonder how Aphrodite has allowed him to live so long when he's so beautiful. His voice hangs in the air and calms you, the same settling in your chest as last time, the same freedom from the burn in your veins. It's addictive. 

The song doesn't last nearly as long as you want it to but the stillness inside you lingers long after he's done caressing the microphone. You place a few bills down for Suho and light up a cigarette as you head outside, ignoring the dirty looks from other patrons as you do. You're on a mission, the thrum of bloodlust returning with every second that passes, and you can't even be sure if he's still around or if he's wandered off already. 

You stand in the alley for what feels like hours, turning at every sound and smoking cig after cig just so you have something to do. You've almost decided to say fuck it when footsteps sound from the back of the bar, coming closer to you. 

His blue hair is visible even from the other end of the small alley, a giveaway similar to the light at the end of your cigarette and the smoke you blow into the air. There's no way he hasn't seen you, you think, you're making no effort to hide or be sneaky, and yet he's continuing forward as if he doesn't see you at all, eyes focused on a phone in his hand. You wait until he's just a few steps away before speaking.

"How do you know my title?" You ask him. He stops as if he'd always meant to and doesn't even bother to glance up at you or respond. The edges of your vision turn scarlet at the blatant disregard and you're speaking before you can even process the words. "I asked you a fucking question, pretty boy, you're gonna answer me. Unless you want that precious mouth bloodied up."

"And you wonder how I know who you are," He drawls, still not bothering to spare a glance at you. A scowl grows over your face at his sarcastic tone. "If you're going to hit me just get it over with. Otherwise, I have places to be."

He stands, waiting and expectant, but you don't move. He's humming, quiet and to himself like he doesn't even realize he's doing it, and the red seeps away from your mind until you're left clear-headed once more. You sigh, long and heavy, and crush your cigarette into your denim-covered thigh to put it out. It tickles. 

"I'm not going to hit you," You tell him eventually. "I just wanna know how you know me. And how you do it."

He cocks a brow at that, finally looking up from the phone in his hand to level dark eyes on yours. "Do what? Sing?"

"No." You swallow around the sudden lump in your throat. The words are harder to find than you thought they'd be, lost in the depths of his gaze, in the clarity you're so unaccustomed to, in the way you feel like you can breathe for the first time in days. "I don't care how you sing, that's not important, it's the...fuck, you know what, never mind, it doesn't fucking matter." You push off the wall and step past him to head towards where the streetlight gleams off the bar windows. 

"Tell me." The command has you stopping in your tracks, and you're again flooded with just wanting to know how. How he clears the haze, how he stops you, how he makes you feel real. You turn, hands stuffed into the back pockets of your jeans. "How I do what?"

It takes you several long breaths before you can answer, and you aren't even sure he can hear you over the sounds of people leaving the bar, and you find yourself disappearing into the crowd without waiting for a response. Your own words are reverberating in your skull, getting louder with each step you take, and you wish you could just turn it off . 

"How you make me feel like a person again."

You avoid the bar for a few weeks, going hours away from your usual area to an unfamiliar hole in the wall just to make sure you don’t see him. You’re more deadly than usual in your fights, victories coming quicker, injuries piling up along with the guilt, but you can’t bring yourself to return. It’s unnerving, the way everything goes quiet around him, the way you can think, but the worst is the way you can feel. Everything’s calm and steady and blue, and it only makes it easier for the regret and the guilt and the anxiety to curl around your throat and squeeze until you can’t breathe, to clog in your throat while the laughter of your siblings echoes in your ears, and you...can’t. You can’t do that, you can’t let it win, you can’t let them win, they can’t know that you’re everything they think you are and worse. 

You can’t let yourself drown in that, and yet you find yourself back at Suho’s, lost among the crowd while Taehyung’s voice surrounds you. The ache in your bones fades away, chased by the thrum of the fight that still lingers despite the hours that have passed since you felt your opponent’s femur break under your palm and their screams echoed in your ears. Everything is calm again, and the guilt nearly drowns you.

He hasn’t even finished singing before you’re outside, chest heaving as you gasp against the weight on your chest. You broke someone’s femur , and did you even really need to? The fight itself is a blur even now, snapshots playing through your mind like a montage. The way they’d darted at you first, how their foot felt connecting with the backs of your knees, the determination in their eyes when you went down, the jolt of shock as your hands wrapped around their leg, the dull throb of a barrage of hits against your waist as you pulled them down as well and bloodied their face, the blood-curdling scream as you snapped the bone like a pretzel stick.

Your breath comes faster in your lungs, forced out by the growing guilt that lodges there in its place. Images swirl in your mind, chased by a never-ending stream of thought and regret that you should be used to by now. Fuck, you didn’t need to, and you still did it; you lost control, you fucking hurt them, and for what? A couple hundred? Was it even worth it? Who knew when they’d be back into shape to fight, what if they needed the money? They weren’t even half-bad. They got you down, at least, shouldn’t you have gone easy on them? You don’t even remember their face, can’t remember what the announcer said their name was, words drowned out by the buzz under your skin.

Metal crumples under your grip and you spare a half-second to mourn Suho’s dumpster before you slam your knuckles against it. It tingles, not even real pain, and you don’t hesitate to repeat it. By the time the metal is disfigured completely, a distorted mess of paint and steel and garbage, you still aren’t in pain, but there’s a sheen of gold across your knuckles and you feel less like you’re drowning and more like you’re suffocating. The usual. You can handle that. You think. 

You don’t even realize that you’ve slid down to the ground beside the dumpster until the back door of the bar opens and footsteps echo through the alley. You wish you knew how long you’ve been here, how long you’ve sat among empty bottles and stale beer and broken glass, but you can’t be sure. The brief reprieve brought by Taehyung’s voice is long gone, chased away by the guilt and rage that still sits heavy in your chest. You hope you’re not noticeable here, that whoever’s left will just pass by and leave you to piece yourself back together on your own. 

Voices tell you that it isn’t likely, the deep baritone of one too familiar to ignore. The other is new, but you’re familiar with the tone, the inflection, the intent behind it. You've heard it before, in crowded clubs as a guy pushes too close to some girl who can barely stand, in a coffeeshop when a random customer can't take a fucking hint, at the local campus when some professor insists that there could be maybe one thing her student could do to pass. It makes everything in you curdle, the bourbon from earlier threatening to work its way back up; it screams predator , and you absolutely refuse to let anyone fucking talk to someone like that, like they have some right to whatever it is they want. 

You refuse to let someone talk to him that way. 

"Seriously, Kratos, didn't I tell you to leave me alone? Did Aphrodite not teach you your lesson last time you harassed someone?" Taehyung's voice brings a calm that's an unsettling match to the anger washing over you. You're used to the red at the corners of your vision, the tint to everything you see, but you aren ' t used to the way it all turns purple and focused and clear . 

There's no haze this time, there's no abrupt shift of you moving before you know you've done it. You can feel the glass crunching under your boots with every step you take, can feel the way the air has a chill that creeps down into your lungs with every breath, can almost taste the apprehension that's rolling off of Taehyung despite his relaxed stance. The only thing that gives him away is the tense set of his jaw and the mix of relief and fear when his eyes land on you. 

"I'm pretty sure he said no, Kratos." The god turns at your voice and you watch the realization wash over him as he realizes what - who - you are. 

"Been a while since anyone's seen you, Ares." He scoffs a little, not moving from where he has Taehyung caged against the wall of the bar, one hand pressed firmly into the brick. He's entirely too close, and you have no doubt that the stench of him permeates the very oxygen around them. 

"Been busy. Doesn't change the fact that the man said no. Take the loss, walk away." Kratos' eyes narrow at your words and he steps away, but only to move closer to you. 

"Why do you care so much? You've never been one to care about any of us before." Kratos inches closer and the hyper-focus that Taehyung's voice causes starts to melt away with every twitch of your fingers. You've never liked Kratos, all brute strength with no respect for the challenge, no appreciation of the fight, too focused on sheer power and exhilaration. He is the worst of the worst of the worst of your kind, of all the war-focused gods. Every bit of yourself you hate is every piece that Kratos loves about himself. 

"I care that you don't seem to be able to understand when someone doesn't want to be around you, you absolute piece of filth. Taehyung had a point though, I really thought the whole thing with Aphrodite would've taught you how to back off. Or should I pull the video out, I think I still have it saved for when I need a good laugh." Malice and fury twitch across the other god's face and you absolute revel in it. You can feel his anger prickling across you, like needles in your very pores, and you ache for it. It's been so long since you last had a good fight, a real challenge where you didn't need to hold back at all. 

Too long since you fought a god like yourself.

"You're testing my patience, cousin," Kratos spits. It's a little generous to call the two of you cousins - you're several times removed, at best, and potentially closer than that with your family's warped history - but you let him have it. It might make him feel better. "I'm having a conversation, that's all. And if said conversation means that we end up back at my place, then, well, can anyone really blame me for what might happen to this pretty little m-"

Your fist connects with his jaw immediately and the red floods you for the few seconds it takes to register Taehyung calling your name. The calm struggles for a second, warring with the rage, but it wins out eventually. The singer's talking, but you can't make out any actual words. You're too focused on Kratos, the way he's righting and readying himself for a brawl. There's a fire in his eyes that matches the one in yours and everything in you feels alive for the first time in too long. 

This fight is different than your usual ones. There's no blur, no warped sense of time that usually comes with the adrenaline. You're focused and controlled in a way you haven't had to be for centuries, careful and precise and deliberate with every swing and every kick. The red seeps back in slowly and every time you think you're about to lose it, you hear Taehyung, still pressed against the wall of the bar. 

Kratos lunges at you for what has to be the tenth time, clearly trying his best to knock you to the ground - he succeeded, once; you let yourself get distracted, too caught up in thoughts, but it didn't last long - and you sidestep him just in time for him to ram into the ruined dumpster instead. He looks pissed when he turns back around and something in you sings at the sight. He makes for you again and you dodge again, only to be dragged back towards him by the grip he has on your jacket. Fuck, should've taken that off , whatever, he's too close.

Pain explodes in your side and you're fairly sure he's busted part of your rib, but you just slide your arms out of the sleeves and twist to plant your knee straight into his gut and then slam your heel down onto his much-less-safe toes, and then back up to knee him in the groin. It's nowhere near enough to take him out, but his nose is oozing golden ichor and he groans with every shift of his weight, and you've got him pinned against the wall with your forearm pressing hard into his windpipe. 

"Now, you're gonna listen to me you steaming pile of dog shit," You hiss. "When someone tells you no, it's not a fucking negotiation. It means you fucking leave and find someone with loose enough morals or enough internalized self-hatred that they're willing to subject themselves to your absolutely pitiful fucking excuse of an existence for the thirty-two seconds it'll take for you to get off." 

Kratos doesn't respond, just sneers and spits blood at you. It's a miracle you don't actually try to rip his head from his body, because the thought crosses your mind for a second too long. Instead, you just press harder against his windpipe and enjoy the choked gasp that it draws. 

"You don't stalk people either, the way you did with 'Dite. Don't you know it's better to let them come to you sometimes?" You tsk, ignoring the way he claws uselessly at your arm. Gods may not need to breathe, that's a fact, but they feel pain, and there is no way this isn't absolutely excruciating for him when even you can feel the small bones in his neck cracking and breaking. "And if I hear even a whisper of you pulling shit like this again, then I'm gonna find you, you pigshit. And when I do, I won't hold back even the slightest, and do you know what comes after that?" 

His eyes are full of fear now, and only grow wide with terror as you lean in close enough that he can feel your lips against his ear as you whisper. 

"You are going to wish that you could die." 

When you do release him, he disappears instantly, with a cloud of acrid grey-green smoke curling around your ichor-spattered boots. He's only been gone a second when you slump, the adrenaline fading as quick as Kratos had left. Your side is throbbing now, your knuckles are bruised and broken and gold, there's a pain in your leg that you aren't sure what's causing, your head is screaming even through the high of the fight, your face stings in the crisp-cool air. Every breath makes the pain worse so you stop breathing. The brick wall of the bar is rough against your palms, but it's the only thing around that can keep you upright, so you'll take it. 

"Well," a voice drawls from your left. You'd jump if you had anything left in you, but every ounce of energy is gone, spent teaching Kratos what Aretha Franklin meant when she sang about respect - and really, there was another fantastic singer, you really should visit her sometime soon - so instead your head lolls to the side. You aren't sure what it is that jolts through you when your eyes land on Taehyung, fingers curled carefully around the collar of-

Your jacket. That's your leather jacket. You barely remembers shrugging out of it, but you're glad it's not on the ground, trampled and covered in the gold spatters that decorate the rest of your body. 

"Well?" You echo, wincing at the pain it causes. You've definitely got a busted lip, that's for sure from the way it feels different and swollen, and you're pretty sure there's a head wound, too, because you don't remember there being a golden halo around Taehyung before the fight. 

"Well," He repeats, slinging the jacket - your jacket - over a shoulder. "You should get that looked at." He starts walking, making his way to the entrance of the alleyway. He gets halfway there before he stops and turns and cocks a brow. "Are you coming, or do I get to keep this?" Your jacket waves a little, as if he's wiggling it, and it makes you feel like a stray dog being lured off with treats. 

You're never going to tell anyone that it works.

Taehyung's place is as nondescript as the car he parks outside. It's a plain apartment building on the outside - looks like maybe it was a hotel back in the 1930s, based on the outdated carpeting in the lobby and the grate on the elevator he steps into. Even the hallway is plain and unassuming as he leads you to the end and uses an old, tarnished brass key on an older, more tarnished brass knob. You aren't sure what you expected, you can't even begin to guess what Taehyung is like outside of the dirty alley or the stage where he sings, can't fathom what kind of decor he could possibly have. 

What you step into isn't anything you could have guessed. It looks like he has the entire rest of the floor to himself based on what you can see, but there's also a spiral staircase tucked into a corner, bookshelves built in under each step that are filled to the brim, and a fireman's pole in another corner, so there's at least one more level above this, but something tells you both the staircase and the pole continue past that. There's artwork everywhere, pieces you recognize and pieces you don't, several van Goghs and a couple from Matisse and you think in the corner you spot an actual fucking da Vinci sketch that's supposed to be somewhere in Europe. There's a gramophone beside a top-of-the-line sound system, an entire wall that's just a record collection, books upon books, framed bits of poetry - including an actual hand-written rupi kaur, a signed Maya Angelou print, and a signed cover of ain't i a woman by bell hooks that you would die to know how Taehyung got his hands on. It's a museum's wet dream and yet it retains a lived in atmosphere. There are mugs left on tables, blankets strewn about as if someone just got up from a nap, an easel propped up by a far window with what looks like an impressionist painting of the cityscape, books tossed down half-read with receipts and coupons and candy wrappers and everything but a bookmark tucked between the pages. 

It feels like a home and it makes your heart flutter in your chest at the same time that something in your stomach shrivels up into itself. 

Taehyung walks like he’s meant to be followed, so follow you do. You spy another man - older, you think, but it’s hard to tell, really - sprawled across a couch, blanket splayed across his lap as he watches some kind of dance show on a flatscreen hung above a warm and roaring fireplace, a couple of girls in what looks to be the kitchen, one sitting on the counter while the other stands between her legs and pretends not to notice the former stealing strawberries from her bowl as she taps at her tablet, and there are footsteps creaking above you, hidden behind walls even as Taehyung leads you up the staircase. They all look up when you pass, but only the man gives you a second glance; his eyes are a weight on your back that doesn’t leave until you’re upstairs and following Taehyung into a large, rather nice bathroom. 

It’s vintage as well, but it’s spacious and well-kept, like the rest of the place. Taehyung pats the marble counter by the sink and you bite your tongue against the urge to tell him you aren’t a dog. You don’t move though, instead watching him as he lays your jacket across a brass bar on the wall and then digs around in a cabinet for a minute or two. When he straightens up, he’s got a somewhat dusty off-white box in his hands, and he frowns. 

“Up,” He says. “I need to look at your ankle.” 

You don’t move, but you can tell he doesn’t miss the twitch of your nose at the thought of being commanded like an animal. Like someone who can’t understand. Like-

He sighs. 

“Please, will you sit on the counter, so I can look at your ankle?” You huff, but you do as he says. 

He doesn’t speak as he works, completely silent except for the odd command - “Roll it for me...alright, now flex that...deep breath...stop fidgeting or I’ll only make it worse…” - and the occasional hum under his breath. It seems to be second nature, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and it endears you more than you’d like. His touch is gentle but firm as he lightly squeezes your ankle and wraps it, lifts your pant leg to rub some kind of cream into a somewhat worrisome golden bruise forming on your calf, darts under your shirt to quickly and painlessly set your ribs before wrapping those as well. He doesn’t say anything at all until he’s almost finished with the cuts on your hands, golden ichor long gone and wounds already on their way to healing thanks to some sort of mist he spritzes on them. 

It only stings once, as he’s spraying something over some kind of cut on your thigh where Kratos ripped through the denim there without you noticing. You can’t stop the hiss as the pain hits, though you regret it when he glances up at you. 

“Sorry,” He mumbles under his breath as he dabs lightly at it with his long fingers. 

“It’s fine,” You tell him. “I’m used to it.” Your voice is rough, always, but softer than usual. You don’t know why. You can’t decide if you like it.

The entire time he works, you wait. For him to tell you it wasn’t necessary, that he can fight his own battles, that he’s not surprised a brute like yourself got into a fight, that you’re no more than what the rumours say you are. You’ve got a million different curses and insults ready to spit back at him when he finally speaks.

“Thank you,” is what comes. It shocks the words out of your mouth, and you actually look up from where you’ve been watching him methodically wipe gold away from a scrape on your forearm. His gaze is concentrated on the injury and his lips are pursed and you wish you could figure him out. 

He must take your silence for the confusion it is, because he continues. 

“I mean it,” He says. “I’m usually not someone that lets other people fight for me, but we both know that I couldn’t have taken Kratos. He’s too strong, and he was counting on that. Until you showed up.” You don’t respond. “Is there a reason you left before my set was done? Or why you were sitting in an alley beside what is possibly the most gnarled dumpster I’ve ever seen?”

You don’t answer him, instead focusing on the way his hands feel as they tilt your chin so he can look at the cuts and bruises and scrapes that decorate your face. You focus your gaze just past his shoulder, content to memorize the pattern of his gaudy vintage bathroom wallpaper, and he doesn't press for more. The distracted humming picks up again every time he stops talking, and eases the storm of guilt shame rage pain hurt grief loneliness in your chest. 

"I fight," you eventually say. Your voice is too loud in the quiet of the bathroom, shatters the silence like a sledgehammer, and you hate the way it trembles. Still, Taehyung doesn't look away from where he's carefully wiping gold from your skin, just cocks a brow, and it's as if a dam breaks in your throat. "Like, real fights. Actual competition, with rules and shit, and...sometimes the bad ones, because they tend to fight differently, it's a different kind of fight, y'know, and it's never really fair, because I'm...I'm me, but I hold back, just for fun, y'know, and it's, uh. It's alright usually, I go in, do my thing, I win, I go drink, and it all gets, I dunno, easier, maybe, for a while, like I can think right, but, um.”

You hesitate for a split second and force yourself to focus on the way the alcohol-soaked cotton tickles the cut on your head. 

“Sometimes it's not...sometimes I can't control it as well, the anger, and I kind of just lose it on people, and a while ago this guy, he almost needed his jaw wired shut, but he was kind of a prick anyway, I guess, so whatever, but, uh, today, I...there was this girl and she was doing really well, actually, y'know, managed to get me down to the mat, which is rare and pretty impressive, and I'm pretty proud of her for it now, but then, I just. I just kinda lost it, like, I just kept swinging, I couldn't stop, and then I just...I broke her leg, for no real reason, just because I wanted her to hurt, and I don't...I'm not sure why I even did it, because I'd already won, right, like what was the point of doing any more, it wasn't even helping at that point, y'know, it's not like the buzz kept up any longer because I broke this kid's leg, and I love the fights, they help clear my head for a second, but I never wanted to actually-"

You words stop short, like there are too many of them to say in too short a time, and it's then you realize Taehyung's hands are in his lap and he's looking at you fully. His expression isn't neutral anymore, it's not the carefully crafted mask of a performer, it's real and open and genuine and all you see there is pain . For you. Pain and understanding and compassion you never expected to find anywhere but the deepest corners of your soul. Looking at him looking at you like that makes you feel like you can breathe again.

"You never wanted to hurt anyone." His voice is rough, like maybe there's emotion clogging his throat as well, and you aren't sure what that does to you, but something in you jumps at the thought.

Tears mar your vision as you nod and you curse under your breath before wiping them away. He catches your quivering hand in his and just holds it for a second. His eyes don't leave yours and there are a thousand things you expect him to say but what he says is: 

"I believe you."

And that...it's more than you can take, and you break, right there on his bathroom counter, sobbing into his chest while he just rubs your back and hums and you remember the face of every person you've ever hurt and the look in their eyes as you left some of them for dead. 

You wake up the next morning curled up on the most comfortable chaise lounge in human history, sitting up and shoving the blanket off of you in a rush before you remember where you are, why you're there. A glance around tells you that you aren't alone; there's two guys bent over a table that you think might also be a tablet, conversing quietly and pointing every so often at whatever they're looking at, a girl balanced along the edge of the staircase holding a lyre - which, wow, you haven't seen a lyre in that good condition in a while - and strumming lightly along it before she frowns and shakes her head and restarts whatever melody she's playing, and the same guy sprawled over the couch with a blanket strewn haphazardly over him while he watches a different dance video on the flatscreen. He's the closest and you don't really want to talk to any of these people but you think you might have to because you aren't really sure how Taehyung got you here last night but you know it was quite a drive. You'd just mist over to the bar if you really wanted to, but your ribs hurt like a bitch still thanks to that fucker Kratos. Anything as intense as misting is out of the question for the time being.

The man on the chaise spares you a glance that feels longer than it should, full of a judgement you have no doubt you deserve and yet somehow fires your anger anyway. 

He rolls his eyes before you even say anything and waves a hand towards the kitchen. You snap your mouth closed and shoot him an irritated look, but you storm in that direction anyway. Healing is exhausting, and you want nothing more than some meat to tear into and a cold beer. 

When you get into the kitchen, however, Taehyung is standing there already, as if he’s been expecting you any minute. There’s a plate in front of him, full of food you barely recognize, and he slides it towards you. 

“Eat,” He says. You grit your teeth, unmoving, and he sighs again. “Please sit, and eat. You need the strength to heal properly.” 

You resist for a split second, but there’s a softness to him now. Something you can’t exactly put your finger on, but that you know is different , somehow, and it changes things. It makes you want to listen, to do as he asks, because he is asking . He’s not telling, he’s treating you like an animal. 

It’s a request, not a demand, and that makes all the difference. 

Taehyung is quiet while you eat. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t watch to make sure you’re doing it, but you have no doubt he’s keeping an eye on you. It’s quiet, but not unbearably so; the air is broken by the sounds of the lyre and the television, as well as the soft chattering of the men at the table. It makes it comfortable, makes it soft in a way you’re unaccustomed to being, like the way people talk about lazy Sunday mornings or that voice they get when they see a cute animal.

It feels like home should be, instead of what yours is. 

“So why’s Pretty Boy giving me the death glare?” You eventually ask past a mouthful of food. Taehyung barely looks up, just glancing past you to the guy laying on the couch. You can feel his eyes boring into your spine, but it’s nothing new. 

“Taemin’s just protective,” Taehyung says softly. “Especially considering the stories.”

“The ones about me, you mean.”

A myriad of emotions passes through his eyes when he nods, and you wish you could more easily decipher them. Maybe in time, you will. 

Maybe.

“Those, yes,” He says softly. “But he’ll learn.” He doesn’t say it, but nonetheless, you hear the words as clear as day. Just like I did.  

Someone hums behind you and you glance over to see a woman - the strawberry thief - making her way into the kitchen. She gives Taehyung a look you don’t care enough to figure out, and they have an entire conversation in the span of five minutes. Something about it irks you, and it only gets worse when they start moving around each other, Taehyung handing her things without her asking. 

It’s ridiculous, and you know it, but the air gets heavy in your lungs and your head starts to swim and suddenly you’re suffocating. It’s too much, there’s too much here, and you can’t take it anymore. 

The force with which you shove away the counter would have slammed it into the wall were it not already attached. There are slight cracks in the granite tops, though, and there’s just enough clarity as Taehyung calls your name for you to feel guilty about it. It’s not enough to stop you though; you have to get out, you need to get out, before you do something worse, and the cracks in the granite are proof of that. 

You’re out the door in an instant, your form coalescing painfully back into solid matter as you reach the hallway. Your ribs ache, screaming with the effort of trying to mist away from this place, this home , and you lean against the wall in the hope that it will help steady you. 

The door opens behind you, the creak of the old hinges deafening in the silence of the hall. There’s a commotion behind it, voices overlapping each other and reverberating in your skull until they’re a twisted mockery of your siblings. 

You stumble down the hall, one hand clutching your ribs to keep them as still as possible despite your movement. It’s not lost on you that there are footsteps following you, but you can’t focus on them now. You’re not moving fast, and you need to be, you should be running , but you can’t. Your vision is already clouding slightly at the edges, the sudden spike of adrenaline waning now that you’re out of the apartment. 

Someone says your name and you swing. 

It’s instinct, the way your fist flies through the air; you can’t control it, not this, not when the red is all you can see even as it seeps away and turns lilac. It doesn’t matter anyway. You don’t make contact with anything but the wall, plaster crumbling around your fist and onto the carpeted floor. 

“That was rude,” Taehyung says softly. He doesn’t sound mad, though he should, considering you almost decked him straight in the nose. “I’ll take you back.”

He drapes your jacket over your arm and walks away, toward emergency stairs tucked into the corner instead of the elevator, and you follow. He hums as he goes, and he lets you lead the way down the stairs, keeping pace with your quick steps until both of you step out a side door into an alleyway. 

Out of habit, more than anything, you light a cigarette and put it between your lips. You don’t miss the disgusted scrunch of Taehyung’s nose, but you do ignore it. The smoke is familiar in lungs, comforting, and he doesn’t understand it, won’t ever understand it, but he doesn’t have to. 

“Sorry, Tae,” You say after a few minutes of silence. Taehyung shrugs one shoulder and moves to lean beside you against the stone of the building. 

“Are you okay now?” You nod, taking a deep breath, remembering how Hestia had taught you, so long ago, how her hand felt against your chest, the warmth and love it held. “Then you’re forgiven. And you can call me Calliope, if you want.”

You’re both quiet after that. He doesn’t make fun of you, he doesn’t judge you, he just silently drives you back to Suho’s bar, which is when you remember that he doesn’t know where you live. You’re fine with it; you don’t want to see him in your run down hovel. It’s not much, especially compared to his own apartment, but that makes sense, too. 

What could ever live up to the home of a Muse? Not even a muse, really. The Muse. The Head of the Nine Muses, the one called on most often by those in need, the one that everyone knew, the one that Hephaestus just put statues of in the gardens of Olympus, according to the rumors that Apollo sent you. 

The calm that he brings lasts until you get back to your apartment, nearly ten full minutes after you disappear into the alley beside Suho’s bar. It’s the longest the calm has ever lasted, and the view of the city tinted lavender is one you think you love. 

If you can love. 

Things get clearer, somehow. The weight on your shoulders lessens, makes you feel less like Atlas and more like you, how you were all those years ago in the now-ancient days when things made sense. When people fought for honor and glory and justice more than they fought for oil and death and greed. 

It could be because open mic nights are frequent around the city, and you’re able to figure out his schedule pretty well. You don’t go every night that he sings, just when it gets to be too much, when the scarlet haze starts to bleed into your irises like a flag in front of a bull. It helps, for a while, lets you settle long enough to pull the pieces of you back into a shape that vaguely resembles yourself. 

It could be because the fights happen every night, and Taehyung is no stranger to where to look to find them. He watches every one that he can, when he isn’t singing, and his presence anchors you. Focuses you, so that you can pull your punches just enough, so that there’s less hurting and more fighting. It doesn’t work every time, you still lose yourself in the rage and do more damage than you ever mean to, but it helps enough. And when it doesn’t, he’s there, to slide a hand across your shoulders in that exact same way that Hestia used to, that Apollo might if you let him close enough to know you’re alive, that Artemis would , were she anywhere but where she is. 

It’s a strange feeling. You’re not used to companionship, you don’t know how to have friends. You still say the wrong things and do the wrong things and he still speaks to you like he expects to be listened to, but you both are learning. You apologize more often, and he corrects himself quicker. It’s a slow, fragile thing, this friendship, but it’s there. 

Until the night when it’s not. 

You aren’t sure how it happens. It’s been weeks since you last saw Taehyung; he mentioned some project he was working on, something or another that would have most of his attention along with that of several of the other Muses. You had brushed it off when he said it, some snide remark about how you don’t need him there to win. 

You would take it back if you could. 

Because you were right, of course, you don’t need him there to win; you can do that on your own. And your control has gotten better, stronger, over the last few months, but complacency is what always leads to disaster. 

The guy deserved it, is what you tell yourself as you’re pulled out of the ring. He was a piece of shit anyway, you remind yourself as you call Apollo with shaking hands. He didn’t deserve your mercy, you tell the golden gold after you’ve begged him to help save the man’s life. Artemis would have done the same, you insist to him, long after he’s hung up the phone and left to follow the ambulance to the hospital. 

You don’t go to Suho’s. You can’t bear it, not when he might be there, not when he would read it on your face in a heartbeat. You don’t want to watch the disappointment crumble into something more familiar, something worse, you can’t watch him look at you with the knowledge that your siblings are right, that they’ve always been right, that you’re nothing better than a crazed animal. 

The club is packed full when you get there. The bartender starts to pour you a drink and you just take the bottle, leaving a too-thick wad of bills in return. The bourbon tickles as it goes down but it warms your stomach and distracts you from the haze in your mind, the repetitive beat of they were right they were right they were right they were-

“Whoops, sorry,” someone says, a second before they knock into your shoulder. You’ve been around long enough to know a fake fall, and you scowl as you glance towards them. 

He’s cute. Taller than you, with skin that would hide the marks you so love to create, and hair that looks like it would be soft in your hands. His clothes fit well, and they look like they were chosen for comfort over style despite the way he walks like a model in them, which you always find attractive. 

The smile that slips onto your face is familiar, as is the way you bring your hand up to rest on his hip in an effort to steady him. 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” You tell him, not being subtle in the way you eye him. He looks soft; you love them soft. “You headed to get a drink?”

“I might be,” He says teasingly, a coy grin forming on his lips. 

“I’ve got something better, if you’re interested.”

His eyes roam along your body, his breath drawing somewhat quicker when he notices the scrapes on your knuckles. “I might be.”

It takes five minutes to get him to a corner quiet enough to talk. Less than three to get your lips on his. One and a half to start sucking a mark into his neck that makes him moan so pretty you can’t help but want to hear it again. 

One of your hands is up his shirt, playing with the pebbled buds and the metal pierced through them, while the other teasingly massages the skin of his hip when he’s torn away from you roughly. 

“What the fuck?” Your voice growls as you look up. The guy is standing there, looking for all the world like he’s ready to run, but he isn’t watching you. 

No, his eyes are on a familiar sight; Taehyung, his hair now a pretty lavender that makes you think of a home you don’t have, even as he doesn’t look at you. 

“Taken,” He growls, releasing the collar of the guy you had every intent to make cry with pleasure. The guy scurries off before you can stop him, though, and you don’t bother to hide your disdain. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You demand, already lighting a cigarette as you head outside. Taehyung follows, pulling it from between your lips and crushing it in his hands before you have the chance to get your lighter out.

“Me? You looked like you were about to eat him .” He follows you all the way to the street outside and down the sidewalk, pulling each cigarette out of your hands before you can light it. He waits until you’re a decent distance from the crowd outside the club before he stops you, one hand lightly encircling your wrist. 

Your boots scuff against the ground as you stop, not turning to look at him. You’re too afraid to, too worried he’ll see it all on your face and just know that you’ve fucked up, maybe beyond repair. 

“Apollo called me,” is what he says instead. “Said I might want to find you tonight.”

You should’ve known. That little fuck, of course he would rat you out. 

“I didn’t-” 

The words choke in your throat. You want to say you don’t need him. You don’t need him to come running like you’re some scared little girl who can’t control her strength, you don’t need him to piece you back together because you aren’t broken, you don’t need him because you don’t need anyone, you never have. 

“I know you didn’t,” Taehyung says quietly. “I know he deserved it, I know what he did, and I know you didn’t mean to.”

Something inside of you breaks and you find yourself shaking. 

“He hurt her , Tae, I heard it, I heard her telling her friend about it on the phone, I saw her crying, I saw her clothes, okay, he-”

“I know,” Taehyung says, pulling you into a loose hug. “I know you did, it’s okay. He’s going to be okay. He’s not gonna escape his punishment from that, you didn’t send anyone to Hades today. It’s okay.”

The cloud struggles, for what feels like hours. Guilt settles like lead in your stomach, and you wish you weren’t so used to the feeling. The rage returns every time you remember what that girl looked like, what she sounded like on the phone, how you felt when you realized it was your competitor who had done that to her. 

There’s no honor in that. There’s no justice, no glory, in beating an opponent who was never aware they were in the ring, and it makes your blood boil all over again. Taehyung’s voice soothes you, slightly, makes the edges of your vision turn indigo, but it isn’t enough. 

It’s never enough. 

“I have to go,” You say, pulling yourself away from him. “I need- I have to find-”

“A distraction,” He finishes for you, too aware that you can’t find the words you need. “Some mortal that you can bruise and break and bang until you feel less like a monster?”

That’s exactly what you want to do, what you had been about to do with that guy at the club, and it’s only Taehyung’s voice calling your name in that soft, sweet way of his that makes you wonder if that’s not a good plan. 

“I’ll be a distraction, if you need one.” You whip your head around, staring at him, but he doesn’t flinch. “I’m sturdier than the mortals, I can take more. Let me be your distraction.”

“I…” You hesitate. You don’t know why. You shouldn’t even be entertaining this idea, it’s not a good one, but then...when have any of your ideas been good? “I can’t fuck in a house with eight other people.”

“You have an apartment,” He says easily. “Let’s go there.”

It’s a bad idea. You don’t do that, you don’t fuck people at your apartment, you don’t have people in your apartment, it’s your space. It’s a bad idea, it can only end in disaster. 

“Okay.”

Taehyung’s lips are soft against yours, yielding and pliant just the way you’re used to. His hands are big and warm against your ass, even through your jeans, and the feeling gives you the courage to slide your own under the ridiculously patterned button-down he’s wearing. 

He lets you lead the way through the door, kicking it closed behind you with slightly too much force. Your apartment is small, a studio with a bed tucked in the corner for the rare times that you need it. 

You push Taehyung onto it and slide yourself onto his lap, already grinding down onto the hard length you can feel there. He's not quite as enthusiastic, but his fingers are like steel against you, pulling you down with every rut of your hips. 

This, you can do. This, you're familiar with. 

You push on his shoulders, doing your best to get him on his back so you can have better access to the clasp of his jeans, but he resists. You try again, firmer, using a harsh suck against his skin as a distraction, but he still doesn't go. 

Frustrated, you pull back. 

"Not like this," He says. His voice clears some of the fog, and you frown. 

"Do you want to be on top, then? Because I don't mind, I just need it," You tell him. He sighs a little, but he flips the two of you over so he's kneeling between your open legs and your back is cushioned against the mattress. 

"How long has it been since you spent the night with someone who knows who you are?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he sits back on his knees. 

You shift, uncomfortable. "A while. Why does that matter? Just fuck me."

"No," Taehyung says, voice gentle but firm. You cock a brow at him and move to get out from under him, but he stills you with a hand on your thigh. 

"You are a goddess," He tells you, trailing his hands down so he can undo the laces on your steel-toe boots and slide them off. "You have held Victory in your palms and set her free." 

His palms burn through the denim on your thighs, but you welcome it as he slides your jacket over your shoulders to the bed beneath. 

"You are the winner of wars. You are the one who grants battlefield wishes. You are the dead's escort to Hades." He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek and then down your throat. 

He pulls back as he gets to your collarbone, eyes blown wide with unfamiliar desire, and it makes your breath catch in your throat.

"You," Taehyung tells you, with desire in his eyes and belief in his voice, "Deserve to be treated like the goddess that you are, with the respect you have earned, and the care you deserve." 

As often as you fuck people, it's been a very long time since anyone wanted to fuck you for any reason beyond your appearance and the personality you show them. But this? This look in the muse's eyes as his hands settle on your knees as he waits? 

Taehyung wants to fuck you because you're you. Not despite it, not because he doesn't know . He has seen you at your worst and yet he keeps coming back, keeps showing up as you fall apart. Each time he stays, hands you a basket so you can pick the pieces of yourself up off the ground, holds the tape so you can mash it back together, and is ready to help steady you when you start to crumble again. 

He's here for you , to treat you in a way no one has ever treated you before. He's your friend.

He cares.

You nod, however tentatively, and his lips are on yours in an instant. They're firmer now, less pliable and more controlling, but you don't mind. Not this time. 

Not with Taehyung. 

His hands don't hesitate as he strips you both of your clothes, but you can feel it each time he checks to make sure you're okay. The way that he watches your expression, the tense of your muscles under him, the cadence of your gasps for air between kisses, he reads all of it as clear as if it's a book in front of him. He slows down before you can stop him, his lips drawing back from the kisses he draws across your thighs, and he speeds up as your thoughts start to drift, swiping his tongue and two fingers through your folds to tease and bring your attention back to him. 

His fingers bury themselves in your heat, crooking slightly to brush against that soft part of you that makes the world spin, and it's all too intense. His lips are hardly even touching your skin, just pressing gentle kisses against the skin of your thigh, a gentle complement to the way he glides his fingers in and out of you, slow and steady and delicious, but it's absolutely intoxicating. 

He's talkative, too; he gives you constant praise. He tells you how well you take his fingers, how good you look with his fingers inside you, how absolutely fantastic you taste on his tongue, how he'd live between your thighs if he could. 

It's too much, and you can't be sure why, not when your orgasm is approaching quicker than it ever has, not when your walls clench around him and you soak your sheets, not when he's cleaning your cum off his fingers with his tongue.

"Good," He purrs. "Now you're all warmed up." 

His mouth hits your heat without hesitation or warning, before the aftershocks are even finished, and your hips buck upwards. His arms slide underneath your thighs only to grip them and bring them back down. You can't move much in his grip except to grind your pussy against his mouth, which he seems to enjoy, if the muffled grunts that escape him are any indication.

He doesn't stop until his tongue is buried inside you with one finger drawing lazy circles on your clit and you're cumming again, hands gripping the soft strands of his hair so tight that you would be afraid of pulling it out if you could focus on anything besides the feel of him against you.

He lets you ride the aftershock, this time. Waits until your pants die down slightly, until you're back in your mind. 

"Good?" He asks you. His voice is deeper, rumbles instead of slides, but it breaks through the post-orgasm haze long enough for you to nod. “More?”

“More,” you agree, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him into a heated kiss. You haven’t been this clear-headed in a while. Every sensation is clear and crisp, every sound heightened, everything is simultaneously more while also being exactly what it’s always supposed to have been. 

Taehyung’s cock is everything you could have expected from a muse; thick, long, beautiful, and it fills you in a way that’s indescribable as he slides inside. He groans at the feeling, deep and throaty and beautiful, and begins his thrusts nearly immediately. 

It’s as slow as he was with his fingers; steady and forceful, but unhurried. As if he wants to take his time. As if he wants to savor it. Savor you . 

“Do you have any idea how amazing you are?” He mutters, almost as an afterthought. “What you look like right now, what you look like when you’re fighting, when you’ve won and you’re triumphant? It’s fucking addictive, seeing that confidence in you.”

“Shit, Tae, don’t stop-”

“It’s so fucking intoxicating,” He groans, pace quickening. Your arms wrap around him more fully, nails like claws down his back as you arch your back to get him deeper. “You get this look in your eyes, like you can do anything you fucking want to, and it’s so fucking brilliant, because you can , you can do anything and everything you ever fucking want to do, and no one can stop you.”

A whine you’ll never admit to escapes your throat, and Taehyung drives his cock further into you. 

“Let go, my sweet,” Taehyung purrs in your ear. “Let yourself relax, just this once. For me.”

His hand touches your clit and it’s so much, too much , you’re feeling everything so intensely that it takes a solid minute to realize you’re coming down from an orgasm. Taehyung has stilled inside you, unmoving but groaning as you flutter around him, and you push weakly at his shoulder. 

He slides himself out of you, looking entirely too proud of wet spot underneath you and glistening against his lower stomach. You wobble your way up to rest your elbows underneath you, and it’s like he can sense your words before they come. 

“No,” He says simply. “I don’t you to get me off with your mouth.”

“A hand then? I don’t want you to leave unsatisfied.” 

A frown pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he leans down just enough that your lips are almost touching, a not-there kiss that you can only wish for. 

“In what world is fucking you to the point of Elysium unsatisfying?”

The crowd around you is deafening; some of them are cheering for you, but the majority are rooting for your downfall. Such is the life of a challenging the champion, you suppose. 

You don’t know how Taehyung found this place; maybe Artemis had heard rumors, or maybe he searched for it himself. You can’t bring yourself to care, not when you’ve got someone worth fighting on the other side of the arena. 

The sand crunches beneath your feet. It’s hot, hotter than it should be since you’re still wearing your signature jeans and boots - without the jacket this time. You learned from that mistake. 

Your vision tints pink as you size up your opponent; he’s massive, not one to be easily defeated, and you relish the challenge. It’s been so long since you’ve fought a giant. Excitement thrums under your veins as he turns to you. He scoffs. 

If you had a little less control, you might be flying across the arena already. He clearly has no idea who’s standing across from him. Probably thinks you’re some demigod, come to challenge him for the fleece he isn’t supposed to have. 

He’ll learn. 

Something moves in the distance. It should blend in, considering how dark it is, but instead it draws your eye, and you don’t even question why. You would recognize him anywhere, have recognized him everywhere, and his presence calms you. Makes you remember a few nights ago, falling into bed in a hotel in Rome because the burn was to much and you needed him to help you release it. 

“Try not to be too quick, princess,” The giant across from you huffs. You cock a brow and send a look to your muse, who just rolls his eyes, despite the smile playing across his face. 

Violet rings your vision as you ready your stance. The announcer yells something that’s lost over the noise of the crowd. Taehyung leans forward, elbows on his knees, excitement and pride in his eyes. 

The giant swings. 

[marigoldbaker]

was going through ripper au nonsense and realized that i never posted this, oh my gosh??? largely because it is SUPER plotless and self-indulgent. but. so is the entirety of the ripper au. anyway some stuff that hasn’t (yet) officially made it into the ripper au but is mentioned in this mini fic:

spike and drusilla are like ripper and jenny’s weird couple friends. jenny gave drusilla a soul to help center her and then spike wanted one too because he felt left out. ripper and jenny were friends with them before the soul thing, though.

ripper and jenny have a TERRIFYING number of children, because they both really wanted to make their family as big as possible. the scoobies are around literally all the time tho so it’s not like they’re struggling to keep an eye on the kids. (this one is still a variable bc i’m not sure how it works characterization-wise, but it makes my brain happy and my mom and i talked about it for a really long time on the phone a year ago, so it’s probably gonna stay.)

Spike and Dru came over for tea that Wednesday. The newest little Calendar-Giles, who hadn’t officially met either of them, was utterly fascinated by Dru’s vamp face, and while Dru entertained Ripper’s brood Spike ducked into the kitchen to speak to the man himself. Ripper, who was holding the second-newest Calendar-Giles, looked a little bit worn, and happy about it; it was, Spike supposed, what happened when you had a ridiculous number of kids and a baby on the way.

“Do you and Jenny ever intend on stopping?” he asked

Ripper considered. “No.”

“You should,” said the second-littlest Calendar-Giles. “There’s no more room in the house for a baby and I don’t want to share.”

“Audrey, you’re already sharing,” Ripper pointed out.

“I don’t want to share more!” objected—Audrey, Spike reminded himself. The only one whose name he reliably remembered at this point was Alexandra, and that was mostly because she was an absolute hellion who took after all the scary parts of her parents. “This house is too small! Great-Aunts Vin and Sophie have a big house, why can’t we?”

“Great-Aunts Vin and Sophie are obscenely rich, darling,” said Ripper patiently, shifting Audrey to his hip. “We are—”

“Still pretty rich,” said Spike, “considering you’re supporting—how many kids? Twenty?”

“Seven,” said Ripper. He hesitated. “Not counting the one due in March.”

“Christ, it’s like the Sound of Music,” said Spike.

Jennifer, who was washing dishes, snort-laughed. “Feels like it,” she said. “I’d make a great Liesel.”

“Did you want something, Spike?” said Ripper, giving him a small, amused grin. It looked weird with the glasses, Spike thought.

“Yeah,” said Spike awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. “Uh. Maybe.”

Ripper sort of rolled his eyes a little, then said, “Jennifer, could you take Audrey out to your mum?”

“I can take me out to mama,” said Audrey loudly, twisting out of Ripper’s arms and half-tumbling to the floor. She hurried out of the room, and Jennifer (who was clearly old enough to take the hint) turned off the sink before following.

“Mate, I think you’re my best friend,” said Spike, blurting it out before he could lose his nerve. “Dru pointed out this morning—we’ve known you and Jenny for what, twenty years?”

“Twenty-something,” Ripper agreed gamely, smiling slightly. “Probably a bit less than that if we discount the years without the souls.”

“Yeah,” said Spike. “Yeah, and—you’re pretty much the only one I want to punch in the throat on a regular basis.”

He would have meant it as an insult, twenty-something years ago, but it came out sounding more like something vaguely friendly. Affectionate, even, which was bizarre in how natural it felt. Ripper was his best friend, Spike realized, in the weirdest fucking possible way.

“God,” said Ripper, grinning. “Why couldn’t we be like Jenny and Dru? Those two will just talk shit about us for hours and no one gets punched in the throat.”

Spike glanced out through the doorway, towards Ripper’s living room. Surrounded by what seemed like a thousand little kids, not counting Buffy and Faith on the sofa plus Willow and Xander in the foyer, Jenny and Dru were having one of their delightedly cheerful catch-up sessions. Their friendship had always been strong even when Dru hadn’t had a soul; Dru’s newfound conscience had made Jenny almost as sweetly determined to care for and protect her as Spike himself was. Which said a lot.

Spike was quite genuinely fond of Jenny, all things considered. But he didn’t think being friends with Ripper would be quite as fun if he and Ripper just sat around talking all the time. Still— “We could talk,” he suggested.

“Nah,” said Ripper, grinning. “Much more fun to kick you in the shins when you’re being an arse.”

“Fuck off,” said Spike, grinning back.

 ~~

As it happened, the baby wanted to be born a little early—late February instead of early March—and Ripper did a ridiculous Panicky Thing at the hospital where he fretted over Jenny and the kids until Jenny (very in labor) shouted at him to leave me alone and let me do this thing, asshole. Spike, who had seen this coming a mile off, led Ripper patiently out into the waiting room, where the no-longer-youngest Calendar-Giles was nestled snugly in Dru’s arms.

“Hold your kid,” said Spike, taking the baby from Dru and handing it unceremoniously to Ripper. Ripper stumbled, arms curling protectively around it, and Spike said, rolling his eyes, “Jen’s old hat at this, mate.”

“The baby’s early,” said Ripper, “and she’s not as young as she was when we had Jennifer—”

“Do not,” said Spike, “ever say that around your wife.”

Ripper huffed, indignation replacing fear. “I’m not a moron—”

“Oh,” said Spike, “is that why you’re having a complete and total meltdown over a pregnancy that’s two weeks early? It’s going to be fine.”

Dru gave Spike a reproving look, as though he was the one being an idiot right now. Standing up, she placed her hands over Ripper’s on the baby. “You know Jenny’s going to be fine,” she said very gently. “So do I, as a matter of fact. But I think she’d rather like you to be there when the baby comes—and I think you need to be a little calmer if she’s going to let you in the room again.”

Ripper looked to Spike, eyes wide and vulnerable.

It was a simple gesture, but it struck Spike: he was Ripper’s best friend. This was his moment to shine. Before the soul, he might have deliberately fucked it up, just because he thought it might be funny. Now—

“You love her a lot, yeah?” said Spike, in that gentle, careful voice he used on Dru’s off days. “It’s perfectly fine to be scared, long as you don’t scare her. Be scared all you want when the kid’s here and she’s resting. We can go out for drinks and you can cry some manly tears or something, just—not while she’s going through something like that. She needs you.”

Ripper’s face had changed, very slightly; it was clear Spike’s words had resonated with him. After a few more moments of consideration, he nodded, then left, the baby still in his arms.

“That wasn’t abysmal,” said Dru, giving Spike a small, sidelong smile. “I’ve seen you do worse.”

“Thanks ever so,” said Spike dryly, kissing her temple.

 ~~

It was nearing morning, so Spike and Dru had to reluctantly slip out of the hospital before the sun rose and they were burned to a crisp. Spike got the text from Ripper about an hour after they’d reached their basement-level apartment:

 thx mate. helped a lot. jenny and baby doing great.

 Just as Spike was typing a reply, the second message came from Ripper:

 we named him william.

 Any manly tears that were shed at the receiving of that message were strictly Spike’s business.

[colour-outside-the-liness]

First of all!! Loved the MoU fic update! left you a comment on AO3 and all. 10/10 ratings haha.

Secondly, moving countries is great you should try if you ever get a chance. I've always wanted to do that and jumped in on the first opportunity I got to make that dream come true, and I recgozine how lucky I am to be able to do so. It's definitely not easy but I'd do it again if I could (in true sag fashion 😎 haha). Where would you want to live? You ever been outside the UK?

Hahaha you and I in a team would be a nightmare to play against I think. Oh come on you absolutely do not deserve people questioning your intelligence! I like to play dumb in addition to the taunting so people underestimate me, they never see it coming when I win. They never see the cheating coming either, my friends are always shocked when they find out, but I do it almost every single time! 😂 I'm competitive too but I like to play it cool especially If I lose I'll be like "it's just a game calm down yall" but if I win I'm like "in your face losers!" (very mature I know).

I love your drunken story, though does sound like it was very dangerous so I'm glad nothing bad happened to you two! Ah I love yalls nordern accent (me and everyone in this fandom 😂) haha your friend's sense of humor is golden.👌 I'm glad you enjoyed my worst drunken experience, that was the last time I did something like that, I felt bad bc my best friend had to take care of me the whole night and you're right she should've told me it was just a rock! Lucky you you didn't get a hangover the day after, I certainly regretted drinking too much that night however fun it might have been haha.

Like I said before your niece is a really cool kid haha I'm glad you have someone to talk to about Bly Manor, don't know anyone who watches the show and my friends don't like scary stuff so I have to talk to myself about it 😂 and now you! Thank you for entertaining me ;) and I only watch the parts I really like now, I'm tired of crying every time I watch the whole show haha.

Do you do random accents really badly like Dani too? 😂 it is kinda funny your mom said it like that yeah hahaha maybe she just meant the good bits? And I mean, do you think you need help? Lol

I have a sneak peek of that damie fanart here, don't think I'll ever finish it tho. I want to do a medieval AU inspired fanart. Maybe it will also inspire someone to pick up the idea and write it haha.

How's your weekend been so far? My neighbor is making me watch Grey's Anatomy season (???) 500 idk but I wish I was reading that pirate AU instead 😂

Awwh thank you so much!! I will get around to replying to the comment on AO3 tomorrow when I reply to the others I've had a very busy day today though so haven't even had chance to read any comments yet but thank you so much for giving it a 10/10!! I wanna do it as soon as I get chance but I know it's gonna be hard and that I am gonna need a bit more money behind me first but I definitely wanna do it when I can... yeah I've been out of the UK twice- one time I went to France for the weekend when I was doing my A Levels and was like 17 the college I was studying at took some of the art kids and since I was doing a photography A Level I got to go and then a couple of years ago I went to LA for a few weeks which was great but I've never been out of the UK for longer than that!! A nightmare for everyone else but it would be hilarious for us I just know it would haha... I sometimes do I have said some dumb things, I actually used one of my dumber moments as a funny little story in one of my fics- people still laugh at me now for what I said and it's been 10 years... my roommate will not let me live it down!! See surprising people that way is always brilliant like when people just expect you to lose and then you win? That's the best kind of win in my eyes!! I don't cheat at games I am just ridiculously competitive and can't stand losing unless it's something like a video game I am okay with losing those but board games I can't stand losing and I am also a terrible winner my roommate won't play games with me anymore!! I can't say anything about anyone being that kind of a winner because I know I am and one of my sister's is terrible too we literally make a song and dance over winning Oh it was so dangerous and we were so dumb to do it like anything could've happened and we both sit and look back at that and go "man we were dumb" but I also sit and go "oh my god she's gonna be a mum in like 4 months" because we've done some crazy / stupid stuff!! My roommate is without a doubt one of the funniest people I have ever met and she's not afraid to tell it how it is... I'll admit because I have a Northern accent Jamie is like the only character on Bly Manor to not have an accent to me so when I hear people talking about her accent I'm always a little like "what?" Because to me that's just how people talk around here haha I did enjoy your drunken story and honestly we've all been there I have had to be taken care of on more than one occasion for being too drunk like to the point of people having to help me into my pyjamas and everything I've been in some bad ways haha!! She should've definitely told you it was just a rock and not a turtle!! Yeah I've only had one hangover and that was after a night of drinking where I blacked out and don't remember any of the night!! Yeah the night of the drinking is always fun- the hangover isn't though and often makes you wonder if it was worth it haha She's so cool like genuinely just a cool and funny kid and she just asks all the questions about shows she's watched so with me its Bly Manor with her mum and dad it's Stranger Things she asked me about it once but I had to tell her I'd never watched it she didn't seem impressed but yeah I'll talk to her about Bly Manor any day of the week- and you too now honestly I will talk about it to anyone that will listen... I can't not watch it all if I watch it because there's just so much about it that I love even if it makes me cry... episodes 4,6, and 8 are my favourites though and are probably the ones I have watched the most!! Yeah I do random accents all the time and they're always terrible but I always find myself really funny- I had this friend at Uni that had a slight southern English accent because he had spent most of his childhood there before moving up north and he still said certain words in a southern accent and I used to do his accent all the time but it was always terrible!! Oh yeah my mum is pretty blunt with stuff like she'll say things sometimes without thinking about how it sounds that or she just doesn't care like she's said

somethings haha I am sure she did mean the Dani thing in a nice way though because she said she liked her- Dani and Owen were her favourites and I mean some help for me wouldn't be a terrible thing I'll admit haha That fan art is incredible!! Like seriously amazing!! I would love to see some medieval fan art for Damie!! I have been sent a few medieval prompts for Damie and I have started writing some of them but it's taking time to actually get full chapters together but once I have and once I have more time from wrapping up other WIPs I'll make a start on editing and uploading those because medieval stuff is always great!! It's been good thank so far today I went to a little beach town with my mum, 2 of my sisters their partners and two of my nieces (my cool niece was one of them… not that my other niece isn’t cool but you know what I mean) and me, my two brother in laws, and my nieces all played a game of crazy golf while my mum and sisters went to a cafe and had cups of tea... they didn't wanna play with us but we still had fun while we played (I came second which I was very happy with)!! I hope you enjoy Grey's Anatomy and that you get chance to read the pirate AU soon!! It's soo good!! ☺️

[roseapothecary]

I’m posting this several hours past the deadline, but it’s okay bc I posted a single bingo a couple days ago (so that one counts). This has been an incredible fest! It’s my first EVER as a member of this fandom and I’ve enjoyed all of the wonderful, creative stories that came out of it... not to mention, I really enjoyed writing the three that I contributed myself! Thank you to the mods for organizing this, and to all of you that submitted work.

I decided to come back and fill out a full bingo card with recs.

The one line I did before just wasn’t enough.

... And, this time, I’m going to properly gush. 🥰

Featuring Art: you know what they say: better late than never

This is literally so fucking pure.

Rare Ships: everyday the hold is getting tighter (and it troubles me so)

Do Ruth/Stevie count as a rare ship? They’re not ~technically canon, so I’m counting it. This piece is REALLY sweet and features one of my favorite tropes (“there’s only one bed!!”)

Character Archetypes: breaking open the game

This is a GORGEOUS exploration of Patrick’s experience as a queer athlete. 

Alexis’ POV: Rollin' With the Homies

YA’LL. This fic tho. Like. Not only does Alexis’s POV really shine when read through this lens, it also blends so well with Cher’s tone that it’s... like... It’s perfect. It’s the perfect mashup. The author’s choice to write it in first-person was a boss move and I read the entire thing in Alexis’s actual voice in my head. AND TWYLEXIS KISS IN DISNEYLAND? COME. ON.

Audio/Podfic: [Podfic] Never Felt This Way Before 

This is one of my favorites from @schittposting​, given new life. Such a beautiful transformation of an already beautiful fic.

Patrick’s POV: What's New Pussycat?

There are literally no words to explain this. David is a cat. Literally. I never realized how on brand that would be, but... dude, David Rose is a cat.

Less Than 2k: lost mittens and dryer lint

Not only did this lead me into a spiral watching the original House Hippo advert and reading about that whole thing (fucking fascinating), it also had me giggling and smiling. So cute.

Romantic Tropes: You Look Like a Movie, You Sound Like a Song

SUCH a unique take on rom-com tropes and David’s love for them. I can’t say much more without spoiling the magic of it because it truly is an original concept. Just... take my word for it. Read it.

Set in SC: Budd is a dud! Vote Sands.

Love, love, love this view of Stevie/Twyla’s relationship. There’s a great mix of comedy, romance, and general sweetness.

Over 20k: I Waited My Whole Life

I mean, I love weddings and this has SEVERAL of them, so obviously it’s gonna be on my rec list. It’s a great story and a beautiful ride, from beginning to end. There’s a great balance of comedy and fluff... and tbh the banter? [chef’s kiss]

Fantasy and Fandom Tropes: Captive on the carousel of time 

There is so much to love about this fic. Seeing David and Patrick from Twyla’s perspective is absolutely adorable, for one, and Twyla’s perspective IN GENERAL is delightful. There’s also a time-loop AND Stevie/Twyla. 

Canon-Compliant: to the end of reckoning

This is a cool take on Patrick and Ronnie’s dynamic and I’ve frankly accepted it as part of my personal head-canon. It’s so spot on.

Free Space: More Than a Bird

At no point in my life did I think, “You know who would make a great superhero? David Rose.” Then I read this, and I haven’t stopped thinking... You know who would make a great superhero? David Fucking Rose. It’s a great exploration of his character and Patrick’s character... and also David’s familial dynamic with Stevie and Alexis. I would read another 20k of this, to be totally honest with ya’ll.

Free Space honorable mention: Make a Wish 

Okay, I couldn’t choose between this one and the above one for my free space, so you’re getting both. I fucking love this concept and how the author incorporated the rings into the genie mythos... and the mythos the author created in general for how genies work? The Aladdin references were lovely, but there’s also a fresh, original sorta vibe. And the background of HOW David ended up a genie in the first place is just... gold. Such a good story overall.

Platonic Tropes: Gonna Watch You Shine

Johnny and Stevie are family now. 🥺 

That’s it. That’s all you need to know. Read it.

Rare POV: didn’t ask for this--you freely gave it (so now i watch your mouth for both of us)

This fic takes you on the journey of Twyla and Alexis’s relationship over the course of the show through Twyla’s eyes and it’s stunning.

Based on a Movie: Taste of a Poison Paradise 

It’s Alexis as Harley Quinn. Do I need to say more? This is so so good. I love ALL of the author’s choices re: character alter egos. Rachel as Black Canary?  Stevie as Catwoman? STEVIE/RACHEL??? And, obvi, the Twylexis of it all. My favorite part (and why it gets this bingo slot) is the way Alexis’s thought bubbles actually made their way into the text, ala Harley’s voiceovers in Birds of Prey. It worked really really well. 

David’s POV: Flying Coach 

Genuinely a fucking delight. David’s characterization here is flawless, first of all, and... honestly, whoever you are, author person... I’d really like to see what happens next in Paris. So, if you could get on that, that would be great. [David Rose voice] Thanks so much.

Multiple Tropes: You Happened

High school David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla? Sign me the fuck up. This is one of my favorite takes on the “David works at Rose Video” concept (which is already one of my fave SC tropes), and it seamlessly folds in so many different nods to canon. It’s sweet and it’s funny and it’s angsty and it’s just a lot. It’s so good.

Canadian Tropes: Close Encounters of the Alces Kind

This had me giggling basically the entire time. Who wouldn’t love a text-based fic about a moose? ...David, probably... but that’s it.

Featuring Music: favored nations

I will never shut up about this fic for as long as I fucking live. I’m literally tearing up writing this stupid little rec and thinking about it. David’s whole story with his galleries translates SO well into what the author set up for him here... and humble!famous Patrick is just Correct in every way. It’s a brilliant, brilliant AU... and tbh? I wish David and Patrick were real so they could actually create this play together. I’d love to see it. 

Set Outside SC: how it's gonna always be

This one stole my heart. It’s SO beautifully written, first of all, and it’s a great story. Both David and Patrick have the habit of running from their problems, but it’s with each other that they finally dive in headfirst. Also, y’know, the fic is 🔥🔥🔥.

WLW Fic: If You Could See The Other Side Of Me 

This had me fucking cackling. By now, ya’ll know how much Stevie/Alexis mean to me and dksvjioehgo dude this take is just... [chef’s kiss]. The author even wrote lyrics. Like. That ALONE sends this fic to the next fucking level. Quebecky Stan 4 Lyfe.

Stevie’s POV: In the Running

Another take on the “Stevie and Twyla compete for a council seat” prompt. I loved how this brought out their competitive sides. A delight.

Multiple Chapters: four four four two 

SOFT!!! ALSO THERE ARE BAKED GOODS!!! AND INCREDIBLY FLIRTATIOUS NOTES!!! AND PEEK-A-BOO STEVIE/RUTH TOO!

Gen Fic: The Guestbook of David and Patrick Rose-Brewer 

The voices are so spot on. Just. So perfect. I wish I could hear the actors read this.

[twilightofthe]

So...about that Obitine Anidala rant. Also, you said something about how Sidious and Obi-Wan are foils. I would love it if you elaborate. (Also, I love your blog.)

Awwwww thank you anon!  I just be yelling on here!

*wheezes* okie doke!  Tho I stress that this won’t exactly be a rant because I adore Obitine and Anidala and rant kinda implies aggression towards them, this is more of just a long-ass ramble because while I love them, I don’t always love the way canon portrays them in the narrative, particularly in relationship to each other, because I often do not feel that what the show is trying to push us to think about them is accurate to how they actually act and come across.  Notably, the show attempts to draw comparisons to the two relationships that really don’t exist below surface level similarities.  Again, these are my own personal opinions, and in fact, I welcome discussion!  I truly do!  Please politely debate me on this if you disagree!

(god dammit it got long again, so long I’ll actually put ur Sidious and Obi Wan as foils part in a separate post)

I’ll get to why exactly the show compares the relationships very strangely in a moment, but first we gotta explore the reason why it does this in the first place, which is that the Clone Wars show has decided to make Obi Wan and Anakin narrative foils to one another.  Narrative foils, by the literary definition, are two characters that contrast one another.  They don’t have to be the protagonist and the antagonist, these characters can be on the same side, basically the thing is that they have “opposite” personalities where if one character is hot, the other is cold, if one character chooses to go right, the other will go left.  It’s usually used to show one character’s qualities as more favorable for the situation as opposed to anyone else’s.

TCW does this whenever they possibly can with Anakin and Obi Wan.  I get its reasoning behind it.  I do.  The reasoning is that while Anakin is supposed to be a main character, he makes questionable decisions quite often and for the kiddies watching, those decisions must be seen as Bad even if the hero does it, so they have Obi Wan, the unquestionable good guy, encounter the exact same scenarios Anakin makes his questionable decisions in, and then has Obi Wan make the Right(TM) decision to teach the kids a valuable lesson.  They turn Obi Wan into the voice of reason for the entire show, which turns basically almost everything Obi Wan and Anakin do into a constant competition in the narrative in a way the movies do not do (and I’ll get to the movies later).  I’m not saying it’s necessarily a bad thing, making them foils, but it’s definitely more of a show-only thing and it does it quite, quite often.

So yeah, TCW likes to compare Obi Wan and Anakin to the point that sometimes they try and use Obi Wan to diminish Anakin’s genuine trauma and struggles by going “well why didn’t you do it like THIS?” and I think that writing parallel plotlines for the purpose of shaming/criticism is kinda ://////, but that’s another rant for another day that again, if y’all wanna hear about, lmk

Anyway, the need to compare them absolutely made its way into their romantic relationships as well, as they acknowledge the similarities in the show, and Filoni and the crew explicitly compare the two relationships in interviews.

Basically my problem with how they try and draw said parallels can be boiled down to one quote by Filoni that a cursory Google search could not find but I know exists so y’all can take my word or not, that went along the lines of “Obi Wan and Satine are like Anakin and Padmé but better because they know how to stay unattached and let each other go.  They’re a success story.”  I disagreed with this quote so much it inspired me to write a whole-ass fic about it (Mutuals update: yes, it is coming soon, Darth Maul is just himself and therefore an utter pain in the ass to do a POV on and is fighting me like the bitchass he is)

My thesis that I will be arguing today is that while TCW tried to create Obitine as an Anidala parallel, they’re really not similar in the way the writers think they are.  Obitine is not a success story to Anidala, they’re a goddamn tragedy too; the real parallel to Anidala is that Obitine also ended in death and tears despite making all the “right” decisions instead of all the “wrong” ones, and that is what is sad about them.

Like, on the surface level?  Yeah, the crew-intended parallels are there.  A fancy politician and a Jedi get together after the Jedi is assigned as the politician’s bodyguard.  The first time they see each other in over a decade the guy’s first words are basically “damn girl you’re still hot”, there is Conflict(TM) and the choice to try and be together or stay yearningly apart because they are Forbidden(TM) to be together, and ultimately a Sith Lord fucks them both over because he’s obsessed with the Jedi and uses Politician Lady to his advantage, finds and exploits a vulnerability of hers, destroys her life’s work, and then lets her die to make Jedi Man sad.  The difference is all that one pair said “yeah we aren’t gonna break the rules to be together” and the other said “fuck it yeah we are, let’s do this”

But beneath all of that, they real similarities are different and not at all focused on by the narrative.  Obi Wan and Anakin are extremely different people, as are Padmé and Satine, so their relationship dynamics together will not be the same.  You want to try and compare Obi Wan and Anakin and then compare Satine and Padmé like the crew attempts to, and you can’t, they have the same job but not nearly the same life.  Namely, the funny coincidence is that Obi Wan and Padmé are much more similar in personality, while Anakin and Satine are also much more similar in personality, so the first time they meet again, it’s both Anakin and Satine as the one who’s been pining for over a decade and the one more actively pursuing the relationship, while Obi Wan and Padmé who are more like “uh, hi, wow, you’re hot and this is a Problem because I have a job to do pls don’t look at me like that but also I will Cause Problems On Purpose and flirt with you anyway because I can’t help it”.  I get the Corruption TCW ep with Sati and Pads was mostly intended just to help Satine pass the Bechdel test and also show how similar the two leading lady love interests are, but it was a genuinely creative episode that actually ended up showing how much Satine and Padmé compliment each other instead of mirroring each other, much like Obi Wan and Anakin do.

And, onto my next point, despite the character parallels being wrong, the parallels in the relationship are different too.  Like I said, the parallel isn’t that Obi Wan and Satine aren’t attached like Anakin and Padmé are.  The parallel is that Obitine is actively running from what that attachment means instead of embracing it like Anidala is.  The show would argue that since they try to avoid it, that they are able to live without one another, means they aren’t attached like the Jedi define it, but I argue that they definitely still are attached to a degree because they cannot give each other up.  They held torches for each other from a timerange of 15 YEARS.  Yes I know they spent an entire year together at a young and emotionally volatile point in their lives, but I stand that NO ONE is that hung up on their ex for that long unless there is some serious emotions involved.  Anakin was hung up on Padmé for ten years, and that was because Palpatine was constantly bolstering those affections and reminding him of Padmé.  Obes and Sati both-- or at least Satine, the show always makes Obi Wan’s feelings for Satine in return much more vague --held on to their feelings for five years longer without the influence of a Sith Lord.

And the thing is, they know it.  Obi Wan and Satine are both fully aware that they haven’t been able to shake each other off like they should and that that is a Problem, that’s why they’re both a mite venomous with each other beneath the flirting at first, they’re both extremely frustrated with themselves for not being able to get over this thing they have, and frustrated with the other for being there as an active temptation.

And yet, they still are attached to each other.  They try to avoid it, they definitely try, and that’s what makes them different from Anidala, but they are definitely still attached.  You can see it in Obi Wan’s actions in Voyage of Temptation when Merrik is threatening to blow the ship, the way he hesitates in attacking him because that would be “striking an unarmed man”.  Obi Wan Kenobi does not prefer violence, no, but he has never hesitated to cut a bitch before if it’s for the good of the many.  This is the man who stabbed someone with a fork and threatened to eat him just to maintain his cover as a dangerous criminal.  This is the guy who had no problem killing Zam Wessel for information to protect Padmé.  This is a pragmatist who prefers peaceful solutions, but he does not hesitate if he feels it is a justified offense.  But this time, when an entire shipful of people is at risk, Obi Wan hesitates.  Because he doesn’t want to upset Satine.  Because he’s probably thinking on how she told him that if he had killed the last terrorist they encountered, she wouldn’t speak to him, how she had criticized every time he used violence to escape Death Watch before.  He hesitates because he’s putting her happiness, just for a second, over the sake of duty.  Do I think that if Anakin hadn’t shown up to save their moral compasses, Obi Wan would have eventually taken out Merrik?  Absolutely; hell, I honestly think Satine might have done it.

But the matter was, Merrik could have pressed the kill switch any second of Obi Wan’s hesitation, and Obi Wan knew that, and was hesitating anyway.

I am calling this attachment solely because if the situation was reversed, if this was Anakin and Padmé in this situation, with Anakin not taking out a dangerous criminal because he doesn’t want to upset Padmé (lol ignoring the fact that Pads 1000% would have shot that bitch, and even if she didn’t, Anakin would because he is perfectly fine with hurting his loved ones’ feelings if he feels it’ll keep them safe), god, the narrative would have eaten Anakin alive.  

No, I won’t take criticism.  I know how the show handles the Anidala dynamic.  It would have shown Obi Wan popping up to take out the baddie as him doing the right thing and saving the day, and then Anakin would have been shamed for letting his feelings for his wife get in the way of protecting a shipful of people.  THAT would be the Vader foreshadowing, none of this “only a cold-blooded killer” shit, no way would they ever stick that label on Obi Wan.

So yeah, I’m going off of the fact that if that would have been classified as attachment for Anidala-- which, it would, then. it counts for Obitine.

And then Obi Wan and Satine continue to be hung up on each other for the rest of the eps they’re in, Satine saying in words multiple times how much she loves and cares about him and wishes things could be different, and Obi Wan performing it in actions, risking his own neck and political standing to help her even when she’s a fugitive, probably personally putting in to send his own grandpadawan to help her later.  Right up to the time when Satine decides that she is going to call Obi Wan when she is deposed.  Not the Senate.  Not any powerful politician friends.  Not even the Jedi Order or the Council as a whole.  She calls and addresses her distress call to Obi Wan alone.  And Obi Wan, as now revealed to us by TCW S7, defies Council orders and breaks a century old neutrality treaty to try and bust her, a convicted murderer in the eyes of the Republic and Mandalore, out.  He didn’t even know Maul had her.  Just knew she was in danger and came running to her aid.  He risks starting a potential war to come save her.  They acted so in love that Vizsla was able to guess from being around them for like five seconds, and was able to tell Maul exactly who he would need to bait Obi Wan.

That is where the attachment comes from.  It’s the fact that Obi Wan and Satine tried so, so hard to give each other up and do the right thing, but when it came down to it, they couldn’t lose the other one so they put them first when logically they shouldn’t.  And thus, Satine ended up dead.

Now I know most people will argue with me that actually Filoni means that since they didn’t stay together after the year on the run, THAT is what makes them able to give each other up, and also the fact that Obi Wan didn’t go dark side and murder everyone when Satine died.

But I still think that at least the murder front is a fairly low bar to cross, and anyway, that just because they could live without each other didn’t mean they weren’t still attached.  Anakin and Padmé were apart for 10 years and then even after that, they were apart almost constantly during the war.  Just because they could live apart or even past the other’s death didn’t mean they weren’t attached, as they both still had not let the other go mentally and also broke rules to try and ensure the other would not die, even if the rules said they should let it happen.

So yeah, that’s my big theory.  We can’t compare Obitine with Anidala by saying Obitine was a success story, we compare them by acknowledging that both struggled with attachments and letting the other go, but Obitine at least tried to the bitter end to do the right thing while Anidala didn’t really bother, and both ended up with dead women and broken men regardless, and that is the true sad parallel to me.