#this CANNOT be where y'all draw the line. come on

[aromanticasterisms]

varka and hexenzirkel mentions in mavuika's drip marketing.... hmmm

[kirby-the-gorb]

[curtins]

GOO GOO MUCK #1 — jujutsu kaisen x reader choose a storybook to open. aka my mythos take on jujutsu kaisen.

you've turned the page to: CHAPTER I. ITADORI YŪJI go back to the table of contents.

"an unchangeable colour rules over the melancholic: his dwelling is a space the colour of mourning. nothing happens in it. no one intrudes. it is a bare stage where the inert is assisted by the suffering from that inertia. the latter wishes to free the former, but all efforts fail, as theseus would have failed had he been not only himself but also the minotaur; to kill him then, he would have had to kill himself." alejandra pizarnik

prologue. → there was no other ending for this story — none where you did not end up as fodder for the beast in labyrinth, not after the king decreed that you would be the next sacrifice. how ironic that itadori yuuji doesn't seem like a monster at all, just a brilliant boy who was marked for death and sorrow.

pairings. minotaur!yuuji itadori x reader (sfw!)

song inspiration. goo goo muck — the cramps / still monster — enhypen

warnings reader comes from the royal family, has a deadbeat + awful father, mentions of injuries, death, sacrifices, angst and hurt, comfort. mildly ooc yuuji because life has dealt him a rough hand. reader picks their skin and cuticles + mention of bleeding, ambiguous ending, grief. word count. 2.9k!

a/n. y'all know i dont play abt this little guy but omg i was literally scratching my head trying to come up with decent plot. also i'm not entirely faithful to greek mythology my bad 😧 i hate spelling the word 'labyrinth' bc who the fawk came up with all that?

ask/comment/dm to be added to a taglist 🩵

mp3. when the sun goes down, and the moon comes up, i turn into a teenage goo goo muck!

you're not quite sure how long it had been since you were thrown to the rough, cold stone of the maze, where each jagged groove bit into your skin as you traced the contours of your new prison. the walls rose ever so high, swallowing you in an oppressive and towering silence and had it not been for the cold that bit your bones, you might have sobbed.

what was the weight of family, or the worth of blood, when a father could offer his own child to the gods as casually as one might surrender a coin to the tides? you could still feel the rough ghost of his grip on your shoulder, his hand heavy with the ringed wealth that he refused to give up.

all his gold, all his riches, the coffers of a kingdom that was within your rights to inherit, what did it matter in the end — when it was you that he sacrificed? the gods did not care for mercy, was that not why they were gods? but they had demanded, and the king had answered. not with offerings from hoarded treasure, but a child of his own flesh and blood. you, stripped of finery and beaten gold, and left adrift in the maw of stone and shadow.

but now, you laugh, a bitter sound swallowed by the cold air, hoping that your nerves are able to rework themselves into something braver, to allow the maze to drink in your defiance. at this point, you're not quite sure where you'll meet your end, but you've been told the beast waits, a monster of bone and sinew and deific anger, bound to the hunger of the cruel gods.

your eyes have caught the faint outline of something strewn along the path ahead, a line of small and crooked shapes against the stone. brittle sticks left to decay? a morbid curiosity has stirred within you, drawing you closer, as you kneel in thin linen onto the grimy stone.

they are not sticks at all, but fingers. withered and mummified, bent in unnatural shapes as if frozen mid-reach. dark, claw-like nails tip each one, and the skin is shrivelled and taut over bone, in a faded mauve hue. something bruised and ever so ancient.

you just cannot help the sickened gasp that escapes you, lurching back and clutching a hand to your mouth as bitterness rises and makes a home in your throat. the grotesque trail stretches on before you, and you hazard a guess that this rotten path leads into the heart of the labyrinth. a warning, a lure?

but a sound has risen from the depths of the stone around you, a low and rumbling roar that makes the walls tremble, as if the maze itself is struggling to take a breath. the noise grows, and it sends a cold shock through you that drains away every shed of defiance you had clung to.

for a moment, you can scarcely breathe, chest tight with fear. the memory of all you wanted to be, all you dreamed of becoming, hands over you like a whisper, a fragment of hope already out of reach. you think of the things you will never see, the lives you will never touch, and it startles you — how your heart breaks with a quiet desparate longing as you regret the way you lived in this short life. you wanted more than this, even if you did not get a proper death. but you wanted more than to be swallowed up as a nameless sacrifice, your thread picked out of the tapestry of history.

a flicker of thought urges you to raise the torch in your hand, to wield it as some pitiful defense. you imagine the flames as a fragile beacon against the shadows, a last defiant spark in the face of the death that you have been handed. but even the flame trembles, casting erratic shadows, and in the pallid light, you feel the futility of it all.

your strength has failed, and you sink to your knees as a numbness overtakes your body, as you bow your head, pressing your forehead against cold, damp stone.

"please..." you murmur, the word a faint breath lost in the maze, a plea without direction or expectation. whether it is mercy you seek, or simply a swift end, you cannot say. but death has never been kind, and it would never hold its hand out to you in a painless way.

but in waiting for a blow to be delivered, your eyes crack open, vision blurred by the shadows that lovingly cling to the labyrinth. each muscle is tense as you struggle to rise from the cold floor that pressed sharply into your smarting knees. but slowly, a shape and a form comes into focus — broad and menacing, a silhouette bathed in the flickering light of your torch.

at first, he seems like a nightmare sprung from the depths of the eldest primordial myths, markings etched across his skin like a map of some forbidden world, as dark ink ripples down his shoulders, down his chest.

you blink, and your gaze adjusts to the strange half-light, and you're bewildered as the black lines begin to fade, dissolving as if they were never truly there. the intensity of his form softens, and you're not sure if the monstrous edge is beginning to fade away, leaving something...unexpected in its place.

the form before you now is young, hardly older than you, with a face that seems almost human in its expressionless calm, yet somehow haunted. your breath catches, air hitching as you take in his features — amber eyes so intensely golden that they seem to glow in the dim light, fixed upon your with a gaze that is neither hostile nor welcoming, nay. just unflinchingly steady. his hair is a soft, choppy pink; like the goddess of the dawn had run her rosy-tipped hands over his head. but he is bare-chested, the lean muscle across his torso gleaming with a faint sheen, and the broad lines of his shoulders and thickened waist speak of one who has been carved for war.

you fight to quell the tremor in your chest, a rising mixture of terror and something else — something you just cannot name. there is no cruelty in his face, nor hatred. but it is a sad emptiness, a blankness, as if he himself is lost and hollow, waiting in this forsaken pit for far longer than you can possibly imagine.

but the soft rumble of his tone pulls you back, "so, you are the next one they sent?" and his voice is coloured by a kind of bitter amusement.

his eyes, that haunting amber, crease slightly at the corners, and you cannot help but notice that despite his demeanour, his face is incredibly expressive when he speaks, with a warmth that softens his gaze, but the sadness remains. a quiet and relentless grief that settles around him like a shadow.

you feel the tremour in your own voice as you stammer, leaning back against your calves, and yet still kneeling. but your head is tilted up to meet his gaze. your heart races, an awful and unsteady ba-bump! but you force yourself to speak.

"i would ask only for mercy," you whisper, "for my only crime was being an obedient child of a harsher master."

for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable crosses his face. but the boy scoffs, a bitter sound that is not entirely unkind. he looks away, his mouth twisted into a grim half-smile with no real mirth, and you watch as the puckered scar on the side of his lips crumples.

"if there was any mercy in the world," he replies quietly, "they would have just executed me by now."

you pick at your nails, at the skin that is peeling off your cuticles with a sharp sting, "mercy is as much as a myth as the gods themselves."

"and yet you choose to kneel and ask me for it?"

you've looked down, focusing on the rapidly blooming crimson, "i do not want to die."

the boy does not answer at first. instead, he just stares at you with an intensity that feels as though he's examining you from the inside out. you're not sure if you meet a hint of suspicious flickering behind topaz eyes, as if you are the real danger here.

but you just test your luck, shaky but persistent, "why would execution be a mercy?"

it is no kindness to your nerves that the question hangs in the air like a fragile thread — and his response is a growl that rumbles deep in his chest, primal and sharp. it's shaken you to your core, and in that instant your gaze blurs, with your heart slamming against your ribs as a foggy vision plays before you like a twisted reflection.

you've pushed the beast too far. and for a moment in this haze you see him, this beautiful boy, morph into the very thing you had imagined in the darkness before. a four-armed creature covered in dark markings, his form expanding and distorting into something far more grotesque. would there be savage claws, reaching for your face as you recoil, tearing you into ribbons?

but the moment passes in a breath, and he's still there, slumped against the stone. no monster, just mortal fresh. no, he has not moved to strike, nor to rush at you.

instead he just sinks lower into cold stone, pulling his knees up to his chest, and resting his elbows on them, looking almost defeated. there's a strange heaviness in his posture, as if the weight of something much larger than the maze itself is dragging him down, something wide and unbearable.

"what did they tell you before they tossed you here, alongside me?"

"they told me that i was doing my father a service," you begin, and you wonder if there is a bitter drip that falls from your tongue as you let the words fall from your dry mouth, "and that the gods would award me for my pious duty and sacrifice."

the boy raises a thin brow, a faint flicker of surprise scattering itself over his faint, pale scars, "your father. the king i gather? he sent his only heir down here?"

what a sting. even a monster could understand. even the ones trapped in the dark can understand the greed that drives the hearts of men. you grimace, a fleeting shame twisting in your gut as you nod, but it is no surprise. your father's name had never been one to inspire reverence — only fear, and the hollow hope that the gods would look favourably upon his ritualistic sacrifices. it was hard not to feel small and broken in comparison to the king who stood tall in his halls of marble.

your new companion shakes his head, almost in acrid disbelief, but he continues, "i'm not the beast that they say lives down here," and at your look of disbelief and confusion, he grinds his heel down onto sharp stone, "it's not me."

your gaze drifts over him as he speaks, and your eyes fall on the harsh marks scattered over his chest. some are thin, barely more than pale lines, while others are thick and jagged — carved into him by hands that had no mercy. there's one in particular, a long streak that cuts across his face, something etched there by something far darker than any mortal blade. like patchwork.

there's a curl in your fingers, one that scratches at you. one that tells you to reach out and place your hand on thickened skin, but you tamp it down. he must have noticed the way your eyes linger on him, and for a moment, the corner of his scarred mouth quirks upward. he doesn't seem quite offended...just aware. you shift slightly, folding your legs beneath you, the thin linen shift you wear now soiled with the grime of the stone floors. the dirt clings to the fabric, staining it a muted grey.

"the beast is not me," he says again, and there's a quiet ache in his words, "he just lives within me. that's all."

you frown, trying to make sense of his words. "he?" you echo.

the boy glances at you, his gaze distant for a moment before he continues, as if he's not looking at you, but rather past your head.

"the council said they were going to kill me at first. said it would kill the monster that lives in here -," and he presses a hand harshly at his sternum, fingers splaying against his chest, "thought it would kill him if they just put an axe to my neck. two birds with one stone."

"and then...," and his smile is harsher, rueful, "then the king decided that it would be more useful to keep me down here, extend by sentence a bit. said that i could help them like this. said i could control the beast just enough to save the lives of others."

you curl your lip, and you can't fathom the cruelty of knowing your body is a prison. that your blood, bones and sinew is being used as the bars of an enclosure. such was your father's consistent cruelty.

"i am sorry that you suffered at the king's hands."

he doesn't look up at you at first. instead, his gaze drifts to your hands, where you've ripped at the edges of your cuticles, leaving faint scars that are prone to be reopened. your fingers tremble as you shove your hands into the folds of linen, hiding the fresher, red wounds.

his voice is low, but not unkind — with his eyes lingering on your hands, "i could say the same for you."

you almost smile, feeling as though a distant thunderclap has unsettled you and shaken you.

"what's your name?"

he doesn't answer immediately, the silence stretching just enough to make you wonder if he'll speak at all. but finally, his voice emerges, laced with a faint warmth, "itadori yuuji." now his eyes flicker to you, and after a beat, he adds, almost with a touch of irony, "your highness."

the title sounds wrong here, in the dark deeps, in the hollow of this wretched place, yuuji's home. you laugh, though you're certain the sound is thinned, "i'm sorry we met under these circumstances," you say, words slipping out before you can stop them. but you are sincere — and you wonder, briefly, what it would have been like to meet him in another life or another world.

yuuji laughs softly at that, and you catch the faintest glimpse of a smile, wan but genuine. it's a tragedy, you think, at how you cannot help but marvel at the way the torchlight catches onto his beautiful silhouette, illuminating small crescent marks that lay under his eyes.

"i am too," he says, and you wonder foolishly if he, too, regrets the way he lived. the strange fate that has brought you both to this moment.

your smile drops suddenly, "i will die down here, won't i?" the question slips from your lips, softer and more naive in a way that doesn't belong in the air of this place.

yuuji frowns, the furrow of his brow deepening, and his eyes darken — is there pity in his eyes? or something else that you cannot place?

"you don't have to."

you don't believe him, not truly. you know the customs of this sacrifice. the king's laws, and the will of the gods — they all point to the same conclusion. you know this, for all of yuuji's apparent mercy cannot hold back a four-armed beast when it catches the iron scent of blood in the air.

"and when the guards come with the next prisoner?" you ask.

yuuji doesn't look at you immediately. instead, he draws faint and absent patterns in the dust with the tips of his fingers.

"the guards will never be able to report back to your father then. maybe sukuna can be of some use, for once."

you frown, a thousand questions racing in your mind — about the finality of his tone or the underlying oath of blood being spilt. but the one that rises to the surface is the unfamiliar name, "sukuna?"

yuuji shifts slightly, his posture loosening, as if he's trying to make himself more comfortable in the cramped space between you. your gaze catches on his slender fingers tracing lines in the dust.

"the beast within me. gojo said he was my uncle too, apparently."

"gojo?"

yuuji's face darkens, "he was my - " he ends his sentence abruptly, as if he has not the heart to bite the last words out.

you stare at him, bewildered, your mind struggling to process the connection he’s just made so casually, as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world. what cruel fate.

he catches your expression and laughs softly, a sound that is more bitter than it is light.

"long story," he adds, as if that explanation is enough, his eyes glinting with something unreadable as he leans back slightly, his attention slipping into the distance.

"seems like you have a lot of those," you offer heartedly, but it darkens your heart. you do not see a boy capable of great violence in front of you. in another life, itadori yuuji would have lived a happier life — surrounded by those that he loved. but when the beast, sukuna, is unleashed, who will stand between you and the creature to protect you? how haunting, for the last face you believe you will ever see is the first face that you think you've ever loved.

[nerdycanible1]

Am back! :D

Omg guys! Almost forgot I had this ((joking)) but nah seriously! It had been years since I've posted anything here! 💀

Anyways imma go back to my roots!! Y'all remember the days of Legend of Korra where I've only simped for Lin Beifong? 👀 But I've found a new lady, well not really but I've got a new love!!

So y'all remember (if not don't worry about it) the whole genderbent au thing I've created and it was female Tenzin and male Lin and stuff like that? Well I've got some stuff for y'all!

So first and foremost, this is Tenna. She is genderbent Tenzin (female Tenzin). She is literally so hot and I cannot stop drawing her! Currently working on the backstory and this will be nothing like tLoK, actually it will in some places but yes! A lot will be changed!

But look at her! She's gorgeous! 🥺 Also I just wanted to show y'all my improvement of art over the years! QwQ it has improved so much and I'm so proud! Anyways I'll stop rambling and let ya get to the photo!

Tenna: 55 years old

Tenna in swimsuit enjoy 🗿

Side note: Tell me this isn't the most Tenzin expression ever xD

Anyways, my thoughts are simple. Make hot women. :D I am smooth brained and frankly I've been a simp for my genderbent Tenzin for years.

I wanted to update her concept instead of the one I've created years ago (plz forget that 💀) and frankly I love this version better. She looks kind, soft, hot, and first and foremost Tenzin-ish.

What I have for her so far:

She is 51-50 just like Tenzin in tLoK

She has one confirmed boy that I've come up with and one confirmed girl.

Their names are Jin (Jinora) and Ming (Meelo). I haven't come up with anything else for the kids as of yet.

She is pansexual. No discussion on this xD

She is currently in a relationship with Peng (Pema). But ma'am is known to wander around.

Tenna is also more in tune with her nomadic life style instead of the whole business stuff.

Tenna left RC at the ripe age of 16, leaving Ling (Lin) in the process but no hate. It was a mutual break up. Ling wanted to keep RC safe and promised Tenna that everything would still be up and running whenever she wanted to settle down.

Tenna fell in love with an air acolyte (whom I haven't decided to name as of yet) and stayed there for a year before the world called for her once more. It was a short but painful romance, one that Tenna often thinks about.

Once she was back on the road she fell in love with a non bender (Not Peng yet), got pregnant and went to RC for Air Temple Island. She stayed on the island for a few years raising her newborn son Jin.

Ling helped with all he could, being there for Tenna, taking care of her and feeding her and dealing with her grumpiness. He took care of her and once the baby was born, Ling knew he would protect the child as if he were the one to help make the baby.

Tenna couldn't have thanked Ling enough and felt horrible she was "holding him back" from finding his true love. Ling wanted to confess right then and there that he loved her but knew it wasn't the right time.

During the time of the whole pregnancy and the raising of Jin, Ling and Tenna fell into a romance. Stealing kisses, sharing deep secrets, touches that crossed the very thin line of friendship.

It wasn't until Jin started talking and walking that Tenna thought it would be a great time to start exploring the world. Jin barely being the age of 3 or 4. Ling confessed to her that he loves her and that she wished she'd stay for him but told her it was a selfish request. He instead kissed her goodbye and told her to look at the Northern Lights for her on one of her trips. Tenna never felt such sadness and sorrow but she promised to keep in touch. She watched as Ling got smaller and smaller as the boat began to leave the harbor and leave behind her very best friend and lover.

Sorry friends but this is where imma stop it before I bore you! Let me know if you want more Headcanons or if you want more art of this fine wine of a milf!

Send me asks, or ask simply in the comments or Dms about any of this au. I'm happy to reply and I'm excited to say that I'll be posting here regularly soon! And you know of course that there's gonna be more Lin Beifong art so prepare yourselves!

As usual, all art belongs to me. If reposted please credit. Thank you!

[ahamkara-apologist]

Got a concept for Eliksni reproductive biology that's been rattling around in my brain recently, so I had to draw it. Alien fuckers and specbio nerds come get y'all juice

Notes and explaination under cut:

Synopsis: Eliknsi have a bi-phase reproductive system that allows not only for a more even split of resources between sexes, but also for reproduction to go on hiatus between the sperm-depositing stage and the egg-depositing stage, which allows Eliksni to wait out harsh conditions before developing their eggs (though once the eggs are deposited into the broodpouch, development can only be slowed for so long before the critical laying period comes). Sperm can also be stored in the sperm storage tubules for a long duration of time, which allows for reproduction to occur in the absence of favorable mates as well as mixed-sired clutches. Seminal fluid (male) and lubricating fluid (female) also have differential functions and are laced with hormonal cues that jumpstart the process in a partner.

Reproductive process: Physically male Eliksni mate with a receptive female, depositing as much sperm as possible in the vaginal tract, where it then gels into a sticky consistency against the ducts to the sperm storage tubules. Physical stimulation and hormones in the seminal fluid initiate ovulation. The female then mates with as many physically male Eliksni as possible (or the same mate multiple times, as monogamy became socially common during the Golden Age of Riis despite Eliksni being a naturally polygamous species) before accumulating enough ovum in the uterus for fertilization to occur, when the accumulated sperm in the storage tubules is then transferred through a duct into the uterus for fertilization. Once the eggs have been fertilized, they can either be placed in developmental hiatus, or oviposited into a receptive broodpouch, where the nutrient-rich lubricating fluid secreted by the ovipositor both introduces a hormone that tightens the broodpouch sphincter, and assists in further development of the eggs.

Once the eggs have been oviposited, development continues, with the eggs absorbing water and nutrient-rich material through diffusive exchange in blood-rich vessels near the surface of their pourous membrane, gathering nutrients and oxygen from the blood-filled lining of the broodpouch and the sticky binding fluid left by the female parent. Building a suitable yolk sac takes priority over feeding the embryo, but development of the zygote into an embryo continues; this process can be slowed with adequate stress, but cannot be halted. Once the yolk sac is as developed as possible, calcification of the shells begins to occur, and a week or so after that, the eggs are laid. After laying, the embryos develop rapidly, and hatch not long after.

When breeding can be put on hiatus: after deposition of sperm, after fertilization of eggs

When breeding can be slowed: after deposition of eggs

-> This means that it is possible for an Eliksni to go months to years between mating cycles, yet still produce viable offspring. Needless to say, this is a major factor to why their species are so persistent in the face of adversary

a.) Hemipenis: Used for depositing sperm. Residual barbs on each hemipene are used to scrape away the sperm of rival mates, as well as help lock into the vaginal canal for ensured deposition of sperm.

b.) Testicles and Seminal Vessel: Used for producing and accumulating sperm. The long shelf life of Eliksni sperm relative to mammalian sperm allows for seminal fluid to accumulate in the seminal vessel between matings, giving Eliksni that do not mate as frequently (ie, lower-ranking) a reproductive advantage over those who do (ie, higher-ranking) if the opportunity arises, as they are capable of releasing more sperm at once.

c.) Broodpouch + Broodpouch Sphincter: Where fertilized eggs are oviposited, the broodpouch is essentially a muscular sack that is heavily lined with blood vessels to maximize the surface area for cross-current exchange to occur with the eggs. The broodpouch sphincter becomes relaxed during the breeding period, but tightens after eggs are oviposited and remains tight until laying needs to occur. If a dominant female is replaced, the pheromones from the replacement female cycling + stimulation can elicit relaxation again for forced expulsion of eggs (typically done to get rid of a rival's clutch).

.

d.) Ovipositer: Modified hemipene, used for depositing fertilized eggs into broodpouch.

e.) Vestigial Hemipene (clitoral-analagous): Modified hemipene, remains in sheath. Stimulation of the vestigial hemipene through vaginal canal aids in eliciting ovulation.

f.) Ovaries: They're ovaries. They've got oocytes.

g.) Uterus: Where fertilized and unfertilized eggs are stored until they can be oviposited.

h.) Vagina + Sperm Storage Tubules: Where seminal fluid is deposited, and sperm is stored for fertilization. Constriction of muscles from orgasm move sperm through duct to uterus; partners can subliminally influence a female to preferentially utilize their sperm in this manner

*Despite the apparent complexity of the Eliksni reproductive system, hormonal fluxes are capable of morphing sex over time. This is a long, slow process, but was favorable in the past, as only older high-ranking Eliksni were historically allowed to mate. Being flexible in reproductive ability allowed for individuals to increase fitness by maximizing reproductive odds when rising up the ranks.

**Historical (pre-Traveler) Eliksni reproduction involved a higher-ranking, typically much older individual (Kell) being free to mate with whomever they wished, while mate options became increasingly limited as one moved down the hierarchy; low-ranking (overwhelmingly young) Eliksni were pretty much incapable of mating. Many of the adaptations listed here were selected for to match this system, though Eliksni partnerships became increasingly less rank-dependent in their Golden Age. Post-Whirlwind saw a reversion in rank-based mating systems as well as a trend towards short-term monogamous partnerships.

[shadebloopnik]

Finally for the first time tryin to draw this man

Just a lil doodle while in class.

Also had the sudden inspo bc of a lil thingy(AU? Would it still be considered AU if i dont plan to expand?). Ik Angel!Alastor AUs are a thing, at least i think so, so i decided to try it out a lil bit.

So tadaaa, Angelic Alastor. I cannot draw wings to save my life, so bear with me. I based the eye shapes and over all facial expressions on how i drew the first Alastor doodle, except its a teeny bit less sharp with less bolder lines. I shaped his hair somewhat the same for the top part, except a bit slicked back with a more windswept look. I imagine his hair would be white with red tips, with an overall white, and red color scheme, with a black collar standing out. He'd have the same red eyess, tho with whites surrounding it.

I gave him two wings, to maybe signify that he is above most angels, though below those such as the Seraphims and Archangels, at least in rank. I was a bit conflicted what to make his cane like(yea ofc im giving him a cane im not a monster). Originally i wanted to copy what his lil antlers looked like, as to be a simple staff, but ended up with that wider antler design. Idk.

Angelic Alastor wouldn't really be much different than Demon Alastor, except for the fact that he's better at hiding it all, at least he wants to. He's quite powerful amongst other angels, moreso than seraphims despite being of lower rank. Similarly to how he can melt in the shadows, as an angel, he can dissolve into the light. Haven't really cemented what exact type of angel he is, though i'd imagine he's still a bit of a recluse, preferring to go off alone to do as he wishes.

Angelic Alastor is every bit as mischievous as his demonic counterpart. He lives for the entertainment, and his humor's quite biting for a being of light. He's sharp and charming and witty, and quite rebellious as well. He's curious about different possibilities, and has never quite felt like he belonged among his "perfect" angelic peers. He knows he's imperfect, and that all those ideas would be considered blasphemous. So he remains quiet, under the radar even with his strength; all to escape the possibility of being persecuted.

Its what draws him to the Morningstar. Lucifer, the powerful archangel with a heart of gold and a mind filled with wonder. (Also to anyone who's seen my blog, yes ofc im inserting radioapple im weak) Despite their gap in rank, Lucifer never treated him any differently, and Alastor found himself treating the shorter angel as an equal. Their friendship was a bit odd perhaps for the others, considering how they'd often greet each other with playful jabs and teasing remarks, all quite informal and rather unruly. He was drawn to Lucifer's ideas, as was Luci to him, both relishing in the fact that they weren't alone, despite being different.

Lucifer had always been the louder dreamer. Though Alastor often agreed with his ideas, and sometimes egged him on, Al knew the risks and knew when to pull back. He was cautious where Lucifer took risks.

And y'all already know its Radioapple but what if we add Lilith to the mix-

Like imagine, Lucifer coming back to Alastor and gushing about the first woman, the taller man amused at his friend's lovesick expressions. Imagine him being acquainted with Lilith, and charmed as well by passion and hopes for change. He's weak for dreamers okay-

Like imagine him helping the two hide their relationship, being the most cautious of the 3. Imagine his heartbreak when the two gets sent to hell. Imagine Lilith and Lucifer holding him, stopping him from falling with them, because he cant do this without them please-

This may have gotten away from me a bit

Anyway, there's also a teeny doodle of biblically accurate Angelic Alastor(idk ehat to call them, but those forms Sera and Em have when they go 👁👁👁👁)

Idk if i'll ever do anytjing with this. I have a whole fic playing in my head but its very long with a whole lot of plot and idk if im strong enough-

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "Twin Suns"

In which the end of the Malachor arc is profoundly beautiful.

First off, obligatory live reaction version from 2017.

Second, I would be remiss if I did not link back to this close read of "Twin Suns" (by greenreticule here on Tumblr), from which I draw quite a bit of my own analysis and opinions about the themes and messages of the episode. Check it out sometime, there's ten parts (technically eleven but the last post in the series is more of a memoir/personal reflection by the author and therefore not as relevant to our meta purposes) and it is a loooooong read but worth it, in my opinion. I don't always agree with every single point of the analysis (the stuff about the Sequel Trilogy, for example) but there's a lot of things that resonate and that I incorporate into my own interpretation of the episode so I figured I'd mention the source.

Onwards!

Rather appropriately we open on a shot of the titular twin suns themselves.

The next series of shots are stark and empty, nothing but the vast white desert, emphasizing the loneliness and isolation of both Tatooine itself, and Maul in particular.

And he is not, ah... taking Ezra's rejection or the long wanderings out in the desert well. To say the least.

From this first opening monologue we can already tell that Maul is fraying. He spent ten years in the depths of madness and it seems like he's descending into madness once again. Even his clothing reflects this, sandblasted and torn, a ragged hood recalling the one he wore at the beginning of Malachor as he feigned being weak and decrepit, and uneven wrappings circling his arms, asymmetrically.

His mood swings from "Visions and Voices" are more pronounced, one moment warbling pitifully about being lost, about being so close to his target, the next shrieking Obi-Wan's name skyward like an obscenity.

Obi-Wan has managed to elude him all this time since Dathomir, and Maul is beginning to get desperate.

RIGHT, SO THIS IS THE PART WHERE I GET BACK INTO MY BLUBBERING KENOBI SHOW FEELINGS BECAUSE "JEDI CANNOT HELP WHAT THEY ARE. THEIR COMPASSION LEAVES A TRAIL. THE JEDI CODE IS LIKE AN ITCH. [THEY] CANNOT HELP IT." AND SOB FOREVER ABOUT HOW WHOEVER IT WAS ON THE WRITING TEAM THAT CAME UP WITH THAT RAW-ASS LINE, THEY UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT.

So not only is this a callback to the previous times Maul lured Obi-Wan out to him in TCW, this now also a call-forward to Kenobi and I just want y'all to appreciate for a moment that Maul is using the exact same tactic on two different Jedi, simultaneously.

Maul is luring Ezra and taking advantage of Ezra's compassion, hero complex, guilt complex, and sense of hyper-responsibility, in order to then exploit Obi-Wan's compassion and protector-guardian streak, so that he can kill Obi-Wan when Obi-Wan comes to Ezra's rescue.

Because that's what Jedi do, that's what Jedi are, the Jedi Code is like an itch they cannot help it--frick man, I'm already emotional and we're not even two minutes in.

A general overview of the music this episode, and I'll comment on specific cues as they happen, but I mostly want to point out the frequent lack of music, actually. This episode is very stripped down in terms of theme and instrumentation and there are long stretches of utter silence, to help us absorb the atmosphere. It's very effective in making Tatooine feel utterly desolate, like we're alone on this journey with the characters.

This episode had originally been very ambitious, we've been told from behind-the-scenes commentary, longer, more complex, a lot more plot points, but as it was coming together they very wisely pared it way down to the barebone tacks, cutting out all the excesses and stripping things down to a simple character journey narrative, making the resulting story that much more profound and intimate.

(Plus the saved budget allowed us to get some absolutely gorgeous animation and new pajamas for Ezra. XD)

He looks so comfy in them.

This sequence is heavily styled after the cold open in "Legacy", camera movement and shot choice almost exactly matching. This is not a coincidence, as the basic premise of both episodes is the same: Ezra receives a vision through the Force, and it moves him to action.

Unlike in "Legacy", however, when the Force itself was moving to comfort Ezra and connect him to the voices and images of his parents one last time before their death, this vision is artificially constructed, sent to him by Maul--like the ones in "Visions and Voices"--to deliberately manipulate him, pull him away from his support network, make him act out of fear.

A false Call To Action, in an artificial Hero's Journey narrative that Maul has constructed for Ezra to follow. (More on that later.)

Side note, completely unrelated to all this meta, but an observation I just want to point out: It's the middle of the night and Kanan is not in his room on the Ghost. Where exactly was he eh? Perhaps a certain Twi'lek pilot's room? *eyebrow waggle*

Anyway, after Ezra's Weird Force Tele-Distance Holocron Call we move to a scene that is a bit heavy in the exposition department, by virtue of it having to hold the burden of the extra plotlines they pared down. It's maybe not quite as effective as it could have been but it serves its purpose: It establishes that they identified the "desert planet with two suns" as Tatooine sometime offscreen, and that they asked about Obi-Wan and Bail Organa lied through his teeth about the man being dead. So therefore they must have decided to give the matter up, and let Maul chase ghosts in the Tatooine sands.

Rex being clearly distraught at Obi-Wan's assumed death. :(

Kanan also reminds Ezra that the last visions he got from and about Maul were a trick designed to manipulate him.

Ezra's insistent though, as he always tends to be whenever the notion of being able to obtain "the key to destroying the Sith" pops up. So Hera takes him aside for a moment.

Her face and how often she touches Ezra's arms and shoulders in this scene hurts. :( And the strain in her voice when she asserts that if Obi-Wan were alive he wouldn't be hiding in the desert, he'd be helping them, Hera understands Jedi nature too, she just hasn't gotten the full picture, doesn't know the reason why Obi-Wan is doing... well... exactly that.

This is where the story beat parallels to "Legacy" end, because this time, Ezra does not receive Hera's blessing to go. Instead she reminds him, rather sternly, that he is supposed to be there with them, planning the attack on Lothal, she needs him and his focus here.

Recall Yoda's line about Luke: "Never his mind on where he was. What he was doing." Since all the way back in Season Two, when his mere presence started to become a danger to the safety of his friends, Ezra has been growing more and more obsessed with finding a way to kill the Sith, whenever Maul turns up more distracted. It ties straight back into his motivation for becoming a Jedi in the first place that he told Yoda in "Path of the Jedi".

"I just want to protect myself and my friends. And not just them, everyone. I'll protect everyone."

Ezra has an abundance of that natural Jedi urge to protect (planted by his parents, nurtured by Hera), the itch inside him intermingles with his clingyness and attachment to his Ghost family in particular. When everything went wrong on Malachor he internalized that failure severely, and his natural Jedi compulsions went overdrive into a crippling sense of hyper-responsibility, magnified by his guilt and leading him down the same path Anakin walked--seeking more power, from dubious and deceitful sources, in order to prevent another personal tragedy from happening to him again.

His desire to protect got twisted into attachment, into a clingy possessiveness, into a fear of more potential loss. In this way his flirtations with the Dark Side mirrored Anakin's, though ultimately Ezra never went far enough that he wasn't able to come back, the disaster at Reklam and his reconciliation with Kanan enough of a kick in the head from the Force for him to be all, "NOPE, I REGRET EVERYTHING, I'M NOT DOING THAT AGAIN."

But even though Ezra came to his senses and rejected the Dark Side, he was still not on the right path. The aftereffects of Malachor remained and he kept letting that Sisyphean unattainable goal of defeating the Sith--himself, personally, or else personally enabling it to happen--pull him away. Kept letting it move him out of place in the narrative.

He was supposed to be here, Hera needed him here. "You're in the wrong place, Ezra Bridger," Obi-Wan tells him gently, later. Ezra lets Maul, lets his obsession with destroying the Sith, yank him out of order in the cosmic destiny of things.

The Force has a place for him. But it is here and not there.

But he kind of has to go on this perilous journey for it to finally kick in.

(One of the scenes I do kind of wish they had kept from the original extended plot is the one where Hera and Kanan and Zeb all kind of commiserate about how "the kids", meaning Ezra and Sabine, are growing up and leaving home, and how they have to let them go, even if they might make bad choices, really playing into that whole parental angle and explaining why they didn't immediately rush off after Ezra.)

Despite Ezra's half-hearted assurance to Hera, it's clear he has no intention of obeying her order to stay put. His sense of impulsive hyper-responsibility is too strong, he's following the same instincts that led him to obsess over and misinterpret his other two major Force visions.

So he swipes a training A-wing.

He's such a little shit I love him. <3

This is the point of no return and Ezra is unwittingly drawn into Maul's trap, which mimics the beats of a classic Campbell Hero's Journey.

Joseph Campbell, for reference, is a writer and philosopher who purported the idea of the monomyth, that in all stories and all mythologies across cultures there are similar patterns and cycles. His Hero's Journey is often styled as a closed circle ("It ends where it began."), with a dividing line between the Known and Unknown worlds and various stops and characters and plot elements mentioned along the sides. The Hero's Journey monomyth, incidentally, was one of George Lucas's major inspirations for writing Star Wars, wanting to create one such classic mythological narrative.

So we have all the elements in place here. We have the Call To Adventure (the distorted holocron message). We have the Refusal Of The Call (Hera ordering Ezra to stay and him initially not fighting her). We have the Supernatural Aid (the pieces of the holocron that function as some kind of magic compass). We've outmaneuvered the Threshold Guardian and crossed over into the Unknown (Ezra swiping the A-wing from under the technician's nose). Along the way we'll pick up the Ally or Helper (it's revealed Chopper snuck along and went with him). And we will be facing Trials, Tests, and Tribulations (everything from the initial Tusken attack to braving the harsh elements of Tatooine's unforgiving sand and heat).

...But it's all wrong.

See, Ezra has already answered the Call to his own Hero's Journey, the one that started for him all the way back in the pilot, when he returned Kanan's lightsaber and crossed the Threshold into the Unknown world of being a Rebel and a Jedi Padawan. This falsely constructed cycle Maul has drawn him into is not his narrative. It was never intended to bring him enlightenment, never intended to complete, only to be used to further Maul's selfish ends.

That Ezra manages to find enlightenment and complete the cycle anyway is something that happens in spite of Maul, and not because of him, and takes some severe course-correcting from Obi-Wan. Over and over this episode we'll hear this idea repeated, that this was not where Ezra was supposed to be in the story, it's not his job or responsibility to deal with Maul, he is where "[he] should never have been".

We'll table that for now and come back to it, have a moment to enjoy some pretty caps.

Thus far, music-wise, we've had a couple ominous cues, and a bouncy jaunt full of Rebellion flutes and brass as Ezra made his escape, in between a couple of the aforementioned long bouts of silence. There's a bubbly little bit when Chopper is discovered. (And I can't even tell you how much I love the touch with Ezra startling so bad he smacks the A-wing cockpit window and bumps the steering column so that the ship swerves out of place--PART OF THE METAPHOR MUCH?) Soft vocals filter in as Ezra consults the holocron shards, holding in long, mystical notes. A lone viola sounds, mournfully. Higher strings sound with spiritual reverence as Ezra gets out of the A-wing, as if to suggest his goal, his enlightenment, is just up ahead.

Then, darker notes like a pulsing heartbeat. The voices go discordant.

Then the Tuskens attack and hell breaks loose.

One of the underlying threads this episode is Ezra and Chopper's devotion and loyalty to each other so I really like how, even though Ezra told him to find cover, Chopper doesn't and charges in to get a Tusken off Ezra instead. Ezra in turn shields him with his own body when the Tuskens score hits that make the A-wing explode.

And that's Ezra's, "I'm in so much trouble." look lol.

Maul, meanwhile, decides to go ahead and murder all the Tuskens and I would not fault you for thinking back to another lightsaber-fueled Tusken massacre.

In fact, probably any parallel or allusion you think of during this episode is in all likelihood deliberate. Frankly I'd argue that this is one of the most important episodes of the show, with how integral it is to Ezra's character arc.

Which is why it was so annoying and asinine that people complained that Ezra took up most of the episode's focus and whined that it should have been only about Maul. Hello, do you understand the concept of a protagonist?!

Speaking of allusions though, we get some lovely call backs to "Visions And Voices" with Maul once again letting Ezra hear him inside his head and catch fleeting glimpses of him, this time in order to lure him further out into the desert. Maul is still trying to keep him in the false cycle, tempting him away from escape.

And Ezra's sense of hyper-responsibility, of This is all my fault and I have to fix it, leads him right down Maul's preordained path.

"I have to help Master Kenobi, if I can." As if Obi-Wan needs any help dealing with Maul, ha ha.

Another moment of pure heartwarming loyalty from Chopper here, he has the opportunity to keep going along the path to safety, but begrudgingly chooses instead to stay with Ezra, through thick and thin.

Ezra once again returns the favor by refusing to leave his side when he runs out of power.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The way Ezra staggers, looking completely exhausted. Also the sandblasting in his hair and clothes kjhfkasjfha.

Taylor's acting here is heartbreaking, he makes Ezra sound SO lost and scared. :(((((((

Maul decides to rub things in a bit and oh hey some mirror dialogue here, eerily similar to a certain exchange in "Gathering Forces". :D

Grand Inquisitor: The Darkness is too strong for you, orphan. It'll swallow you up even now. Ezra: No. Grand Inquisitor: Your master will die. Ezra: No! Grand Inquisitor: Your friends will die, and everything you've hoped for will be lost. This is the way the story ends. Ezra: NO!

And in comparison:

Maul: He is dead... He is dead. Ezra: No... Maul: You led me to him. Ezra: No. Maul: You failed your friends. Ezra: No! Maul: You will DIE!" Ezra: NOOOO!

~It's like poetry, it rhymes.~

Also this is terrifying.

So I've legitimately teared up like... twice watching this show. This was one of the times. This moment right here where Obi-Wan's feet step softly into frame.

Yeah it got me.

Cut to... Night. A quiet campfire. Ezra comes to and things are suddenly put into perspective.

"You're in the wrong place, Ezra Bridger."

(The voice they got for Obi-Wan is perfect btw, sounds just like Alec Guinness.)

Obi-Wan explains gently that he is not "the key to defeating the Sith". He never was. Maul's desires muddied the holocron vision, he used Ezra to get his own answers and left Ezra with only partial answers. Because Obi-Wan is associated with the key to defeating the Sith but he's not the Chosen One.

And neither is Ezra.

He is a narrative "chosen one", a key player picked by the Force, imbued with purpose, but defeating Vader, killing the Emperor... that was never his task to take. After the loss he suffered in "Legacy" Ezra had been letting himself get obsessed with the idea that he could fix that problem--the problem of the Sith--himself.

But that is not his role in the story.

It is not yet sunrise (Luke and Leia). So the moon (Ezra) must endure.

"You win by killing an Inquisitor." "No, you win by surviving."

Ever since before Malachor, Ezra has been stepping outside his station, trying to do things he was never meant to do, instead of what he was supposed to do, which was to help the people in front of him, right now, do what good he can in the moment. (Something that he'd gain clarity on via a falling out with Saw in Season Four.)

"What you need, you already have."

Ezra lost sight of that in the grief over his parents, in his guilt over Malachor. He was never going to be the one to defeat the Sith. Yoda and Obi-Wan both knew the only ones who even stood a chance... would be Vader's children. Maybe Ahsoka. Perhaps that was even why Yoda advised going to Malachor, to test and see if Vader could be saved, or killed, by his former padawan. Someone who he might have had a strong enough attachment to that it would cloud his judgement. (Just as Obi-Wan's mere presence would drive Vader mad with irrational murderous rage and yet, paradoxically, a cloying need to have him back.)

"We asked for a chance to destroy the Sith... and we failed."

Vader has no connection to Ezra, therefore Ezra will not be the one to end him.

His task is to endure, keep the darkness back, and hold the line until the narrative chosen one who will do that task (Luke) is ready to take up the sword. This is not Ezra's role in the story. He has his own destiny, his own part to play in the Rebellion.

And he needs to return to it.

Obi-Wan closes the broken cycle for Ezra, rescuing him from The Ordeal or Abyss, and sending him back to the Known world with the Boon (his sage wisdom) irregardless of how false the path there to him was. Ezra is freed from the obligations, responsibilities, and burdens he wrongly took on himself... to return home, and rejoin his own Hero Cycle.

And then all that's left is to "mend this old wound". (Maul)

Maul has what he wanted, or so he thinks. His old enemy, his past, ready for the killing. His future and legacy, his apprentice, within reach for taking.

But things have changed. Obi-Wan is older, wiser, more serene and at peace with himself and with the Force, in spite of all he's suffered. He has grown from his failures, let go of the past, and found balance, while Maul has regressed, repeated the same mistakes, clung to the hurt and pain in his past and deteriorated, been sucked almost dry by the Dark Side.

And Obi-Wan pities him.

Maul is scalded by this, upset that after everything he's endured, Obi-Wan seems to have taken no ill effect. And it's not like Order 66 and Anakin's betrayal didn't hurt him (hell we have all of the Kenobi show to demonstrate otherwise) but that he's processed those emotions and feelings and traumas, and returned to a settled baseline. He is more a Jedi now than ever, and revenge is not the Jedi way.

And can I flail a little bit inarticulately for a moment about the dichotomy between Obi-Wan's "I had no intention of fighting him, though that seems inevitable now." and Thrawn's "It was not my intention to utterly destroy Lothal but that is inevitable now."?

So Maul digs for something to bait Obi-Wan with, touching about the reason he's there on Tatooine to begin with, discerning that there is someone that Obi-Wan is protecting. Notes of Sith vocals creep into the music here, a sequence that sounds like Maul's arrival on Tatooine from Phantom Menace ("It ends where it began.").

And with this implicit threat towards Luke, Obi-Wan ignites his saber.

SO much ink has been spilled about this duel. I was surprised at how short it was at first too, but it makes perfect thematic sense in hindsight. The way Obi-Wan slowly baits Maul, drawing Maul's mental frame of mind back to Naboo, because he knows that Maul is stuck in the past, constantly reliving that moment of triumph and defeat over and over again, fixated on it as the shatterpoint where things in his life first went wrong. He can't let it go. He can't move on. He has to keep going back to that moment over and over to make things "correct" and kill the one he pins the blame on for his pain. (But this will not fix him, even if he accomplishes it.)

An entire story is told solely through foot placement and stances. Maul moves through the stances he's used in duels with Obi-Wan before. Obi-Wan shifts through his classic New Hope lightsaber grip, to his iconic Soresu.

And then he switches to Ataru, to the same stance Qui-Gon used.

The music has been tense throughout, but now the Force Theme creeps in. There's a flare of recognition in Maul's eyes; He knows this, this is familiar.

So he lunges, using the same lightsaber trick that he used to kill Qui-Gon...

...except it doesn't work.

I love the look of quiet realization and acceptance in Maul's expression. It's just like, "......Oh."

Maul submits and falls in defeat, into his enemy's arms, yet another parallel to Phantom Menace, to the start of everything between these two men. And then he asks something heartbreaking: Is Obi-Wan protecting the Chosen One? The one who would defeat the Sith?

And because Obi-Wan no longer believes that Vader can be saved, he answers yes. (Amazing how well this scene fits with the later Kenobi show.)

With his dying breath, Maul finally recognizes his true enemy, accepts and forgives Obi-Wan as his brother, as a fellow victim of Palpatine, and declares with almost prophetic insight, "He... will avenge us."

Not take revenge, avenge. As Trilla Sundari would admonish Cal Kestis in the Jedi Fallen Order video game, Maul also asks for restitution and justice with his last words.

(I do kind of wish we got one brief reaction shot from Ezra as he sensed Maul passing, just for confirmation that he knows. It's inferred but still.)

Back with Ezra as he returns home with the Boon, and he's also claimed the prize of Maul's ship, the Mandalorian gauntlet. (Again, just the briefest scene of him finding it, that would have been nice.)

"I was wrong. This is where I'm supposed to be. You're my family. And we should go home."

Ezra has finally forgiven himself for Malachor, completed the arc he started in "Legacy" (or maybe even earlier), and returned to his proper place. His family accepts him back with the laying of hands like a benediction.

And meanwhile, just to wring your heart one last time, we return to Tatooine, to watch Obi-Wan watch over Luke from a distance, a scene drenched in OT nostalgia, from using the exact audio of Aunt Beru calling Luke to closing us out with Luke's Theme and Binary Sunset for the credits, reminding us that the shadow will not hold sway forever.

Eventually, the sun will rise. And a new hope will emerge.

Trust in the Force.

Man, there aren't enough words to tell you how much I love this episode. It's so beautiful and poetic and thematic. It's the lynchpin of Ezra's character development, he needed to be in this episode, to go on this journey. It's gorgeously animated and there are so many many layers of parallels and themes, motifs and archetypes, that tie into the monomyth in general and Star Wars in particular. I'm astonished how well it melds with later canon material (JFO and Kenobi), but I guess that just speaks to how true to the spirit and essence of Star Wars it is.

It's just beautiful.

[syscourse-confessions]

my syscourse take for today is endos stop using medical (and medical community) terms challenge (failed miserably). like I can somehow accept endos using "alter" and "system", they were originally medicalised but now it's murky and whatever anyway. but.

complex/polyfragmented is not for you, it's a DID term. it's not even a OSDD term what makes you think you can use it??? and for the love of god: HIGHLY COMPLEX AND EXTREMELY COMPLEX ARE NOT FOR YOU. subsystem and sidesystem are not for you. not even all polyfrag DID systems can claim HC, it's specific to programmed polyfrag DID.

extremely complex is a bullshit terms anyway but I'm including it here for the sake of arguments. "for systems who were not programmed but have an extremely complex structure". examples of an extremely complex structure from the OP include multiple sidesystems, subsystems within sidesystems, 900+ alters.

sincerely fuck off. you do not get a structure THAT complex without programming. it takes programming from an extremely young age, and that comes from multiple abusers, to even get close to that complexity. it takes severe brainwashing through FUCKING TORTURE or physically altering your brain chemistry with DRUGS. you can't just get something like that naturally, your brain wouldn't just... allow it. like there's a reason why the created endo plurals we've met had like, 10 headmates total. you know HOW FUCKING DIFFICULT would it be to create 900+ alters??? to nest them in subsystems, or worse, to create a whole ass sidesystem just because?

created "complex/polyfragmented" systems piss me off to no end already but just imagine the rage I get to see that fucking "extremely complex" shit used by endos. I'm specifically talking about created systems and not spontaneous systems, but even then I cannot fathom that a system would just... get? an enormous amount of alters, and an extremely complex structure. I'm taking with a few hundred pounds of salt.

not to mention that using extremely complex is a slap in the face to the highly complex label, since it's effectively claiming that an endo with no trauma whatsoever from programming can be more complex than an highly complex system, since you know. grammatically "extremely" is of a higher degree than "highly". I'm just done. I'm so fucking done with the endo community.

mad respect to endos who know where to draw a line with the rest of the community, and I sincerely hope y'all will see that this is taking it a LITTLE too far.

reply however I'm just exhausted

DISCLAIMER: Posts may or may not reflect accurate information. More info here: https://www.tumblr.com/syscourse-confessions/728819621058232320/disclaimer-treat-posts-here-like-you-would-any

[sincerely-sofie]

Check-in for October 24, 2023

I'm planning on doing regular check-ins that peeps can read or skip as much as they please. If you want to see behind the scenes of my projects or get to know me a bit better, feel free to peek below the cut! If not, just look at this color palette I made for my web dev class and admire it:

I know green and pink are my favorite colors, so I may be just a tad biased, but look!!! Look at how pretty it is!!!

I plan to use the palette for a website that is basically a guided tour of a fictional town that's populated by bug people, and while the colors used in the initial character sketches are still my preference, I don't think they look too bad in this proof of concept image! They definitely need some tweaking, and some details in the art itself need correcting, but all around it's not too shabby :>

I also made the logo for the website which, while uninspired, doesn't look that bad. I'm not in a logo design course, so I can't be too upset about that. I made two versions--- a light and dark one--- so that I could have it appear on most colors of background.

Also, I've printed off tons of art and stuck it on my walls over the past few days to inspire me. The art wall has been very successful in beautifying my space, but I've been a bit too worn out to draw much other than the start of a project where I draw individual generations of pokemon by memory. Venusaur looks exactly like I remembered it, but also nothing like that at all. Charizard's line only looks halfway decent by virtue of Twig existing.

I must say, though, that I am charmed by these drawings' doofy lil grins. Just look at Bulbasaur. He is raring to go! Charmander is ready to shake your hand! Look at these lads!!

I've been trying to learn Clip Studio Paint by drawing a new The Present is a Gift comic in it, but I cannot begin to explain to you all how intimidating of a program it is for me. I'm a Procreate gal, y'all. I have a conniption whenever I look at the Photoshop interface. When I look at this:

I am desperate for the cozy white space of this:

I spent over an hour struggling to draw a simple piece for Instagram, admittedly while desperately trying to get OBS to not give out on me while I recorded my screen, but I think that I'm slowly learning how to not faint whenever the Paint window boots up.

Anyhoo--- enjoy the WIP teaser for the upcoming comic featuring a chat between Dusknoir (piloting a KO'd Twig) and Darkrai amidst a cave-in. If I am found dead, know that said comic worked alongside Clip Studio Paint to kill me.

As an update for The Present is a Gift in terms of the fanfic, I recently broke 6,000 words for the first draft. I haven't been writing too regularly--- when I do, it's usually to just sit down for 30 minutes max to try and get a little bit of a head start on NaNoWriMo coming up--- but whenever I do, the words come in batches of 400-700+ at a time. My dudes, I used to take a week to reach the lower end of that amount. I've been beating perfectionism back with a stick while sobbing "Quantity begets quality! Quantity begets quality!", but since I've set myself a challenge to write as many garbage words as possible without editing them until the first draft is done, I've been writing--- and enjoying the process of writing--- more than I have in my entire life.

I've been trying to win NaNoWriMo, a challenge where you write 50k words in November, for the last 7 years. I resigned myself to being a NaNo rebel and trying to write just 15k words next month. But if I keep cranking out 1,500 words in under two writing sprints per day--- without properly trying to eliminate distractions--- I think I could actually win for once??? I didn't think Pokemon Mystery Dungeon fanfiction would be what gave me a fighting chance at winning NaNoWriMo, but here I am. PMD brainrot truly is a miraculous thing, but I'll have to see exactly miraculous it is on the 1st of November.

So... yep! I probably should have figured out a way to sign off on check-in posts before deciding to publish this. Oops. Welp. Um. Thanks for reading?

Sincerely, Sofie

[sweetescapeartist]

HOW NETWORKING IN THE DB FANDOM IS USED AGAINST EARTHLING FANS

Warning, this is a long post & will probably upset some Saiyan fans. But this is meant for Earthling fans. So...yeah.

Networking.

That's how they do it.

Ppl want Vegeta to cuck Krillin? Network with ppl who have Roshi cuck Krillin. They use their influence to convince others to do what they like. You want to be part of their group and become more popular? Well, you better draw or voice or write or animate stuff they like. This way they can say "Look what this person did for me. Support them." Then they say to that person "Can you do more of that for me? I'll make sure to get your name out there more."

When ppl network, they often make others feel like they owe them "favors." But they don't always do so when they also have common goals. If they dont have common goals as the ones in positions of power, then they better get in line.

Why do you think a lot of these big DB YouTubers, certain artists, certain voice actors, ect know each other? And why do you think they all have similar ideals? Saiyan this, Saiyan that, make fun of Krillin & Yamcha and downplay anything they do, overhype Saiyans, ect. Ppl who don't do those things, they grow their audience at a slower rate OR they are prevented from growing by the influence of ppl who support Earthling hatred.

The fans of Goku, Vegeta, Gohan, or other Saiyans who want to cuck the Earthlings all do networking. This is part of the obsession with Saiyan males x female characters.

(Personally I view that obsession as the same as the obsession of woman being "blacked" or "bleached" or whatever. The Saiyan obsession is race based and with a superiority complex. So when I see posts like the one linked below... Its literally the same as having Saiyan males with all the women because fans present this idea that Saiyans are superior.)

(Replace "black guy" {or a guy of any race} with "Saiyan." When its a Saiyan, its acceptable. If its not a Saiyan, its bad despite both being nearly identical ideas. Ironic. Don't ppl realize that many Saiyan fans use Saiyans the exact same way? They view themselves as Saiyans and hate Earthling men but desire their women. Its the same as "This race is superior and will humiliate the men of this race and take their women." except now they use a fictional alien race instead of real world races.)

MY RESOLVE

I know some about networking because I've worked in the business. I don't like those kinds of jobs, but I have knowledge of how they work. (I'm sure some of y'all have a better understanding of networking than I do.)

If I wanted to (but I have no desire to do so), I could draw 18 x anyone but Krillin or 18 x Saiyans & grow quickly. Then once I'm big, promote Krillin & K18. But that's foolish. I'd be "cut off" in a way. If I'm no longer producing what the big influencers want me to, then I have lost their support as well as the support of their fans who only like me because of my association with the influencers. Then my most popular art would consist of things that I dislike but drew for clout or money. And cause I understand how networking functions, I wont compromise myself just to gain popularity. I'll take the slow route & make it so that ppl either end up enjoying what I do, or make it impossible for them to ignore it.

WE NEED TO NETWORK MORE

Negative networking has made most of the fandom trash on K18. Big influencers promote Krillin being a cuck or 18 leaving him to be with anyone. And like brainless sheep, many in the fandom follow the "popular" ppl. And then when you try to find art of Krillin with 18, most of it is of him getting cucked or it's art where 18 is not with him at all. They make it so you cannot ignore it. Use that tactic against them. We've had to fight against it for years & have come to understand how it works. Flip that on those ppl who have never battled against that strategy, & they will not know what to do. Besides lie & claim victim as they always do. If not that, they try to silence you in multiple ways. But they do that all the time.

There's a reason why my twitter is permanently stuck on "marked as sensitive." I posted facts about Vegeta's flaws when he was evil, then got a bunch of angry Vegeta stans coming my way, then suddenly I'm permanently on "marked as sensitive." And after that, the angry Vegeta stans don't come around as much. A very odd coincidence. But I've seen crazy Vegeta stans threaten to report YouTubers for making videos that made fun of something Vegeta did. Even saw them threaten to report when a YouTuber simply criticized Vegeta when he was evil. This is how they try to silence ppl who they view as a threat. (Twitter won't help me with this either.)

An illustration;

Because most of the population is right-handed, a left-handed swordsman trains to fight battles against right-handed ppl. But how often do right-handed ppl train to combat left-handed people? Never. And when right-handed people face a left-handed swordsman, they are at a disadvantage despite being the majority.

Those "left-handed swordsmen" are the fans of the Earthlings who endure lies & hate all the time. We know how to fight the "right-handed" majority. Been doing so for years. But we've been doing so separately. But if we were to network amongst ourselves? We can change how the fandom views our favorite characters quicker than we may believe. We have to gather & network. Sure we can take on a bunch of hateful liars without help, but think about a group of "left-handed swordsmen." If 1 of us can take on 100, then 100+ of us can take on 10,000+. Being the underdogs makes us stronger.

We can deal with more than they can because they don't have to fight daily lies & hate.

We can reason better than they can because they have no pressure to be accurate.

But they want us divided so that never happens. They want us to fight amongst each other so that their fight against us can be easy.

Of course there would still be debates between us about which Earthling fighter is the strongest (its Krillin btw 😝) but we dont let that divide us in our goal. Do Saiyan fans let it divide them when they argue if Goku, Vegeta, or Gohan are the strongest? No. Many are still very much united against the Earthlings. We need to be the same, but present logic and rationale instead of lies.

Ppl will tell you as the have told me "Why dont you just stop talking about Saiyans or Vegeta and just do your Krillin stuff? I hope you lose everything!" The reality is that they are fearful. Because we speak truth and facts about the characters while they build fanbases around lies. We can easily tear down the lies they built. They want us to be peaceful while their side keeps attacking without mercy. Only a fool remains peaceful.

But if you are a K18 fan, Krillin fan, Yamcha fan, or Earthling fan who doesnt want to meet their "sword" with another "sword" and would rather use a "shield" then, that is fine. Your positivity without combat is also required. What good is a soldier if they do not have ppl to equip them? To help them strategize, to build defenses, to give them knowledge & intel, to motivate them. Not everyone has to fight or lead publicly. Some can lead behind the scenes and fight by continuing to post positivity about the Earthlings.

My only regret in "going to war" against Earthling haters is that it may ruin some friendships I have with friends who love the Saiyans but wish the Earthlings nothing wrong. But fans of Earthlings and fans of Saiyans are not on the same playing field. And until we make it so that were are on the same playing field, some friends will be lost if they refuse to understand logic & reasoning. But if a Saiyan fan understands you? They are a reasonable person but will be considered a "traitor" by the Saiyan stans. They must make their decision. You must make your decision.

I've made my decision, and I still have some of my friends who Saiyan fans. I lost one in particular who claimed they were tired of seeing Krillin in hentai all the time. They said that they did not like Krillin x DB ladies, only if Krillin was with 18. But oddly enough, they enjoyed art of Saiyan characters x 18 and other women. I made sure the friendship ended peacefully, but it ended nonetheless. They had some sort of misinformed bias against Krillin. I dont know where exactly it came from, but I've spoken with popular & influential ppl who inaccurately & purposefully claim that there is more hentai of Krillin with DB women than Saiyan characters & that 18 is not the most used female in DB hentai. Those ppl play victim and poison the minds of others with their lies and use their position of "power" to do so. I've fact checked them and all they can do is deflect because they know they are lying. But their lies have already influenced many.

WHAT WE CAN DO...

I have a lot of ideas, so I'll be reaching out to certain artists I respect to get comms done. I can't draw it all myself 'cause I dont have near enough time. I'm also turning my comic ideas into fics that I can draw later.

But what can we do as a community?

Build a respect for your fellow Earthling fan before you build a trust. Trust without respect can be easily broken. If a fellow Earthling fan doesn't make themself deserving of respect, then leave them be.

Come up with ideas together (as some have reached out to me & I with some of them). This strengthens the respect and trust.

Work together with other Earthling fans who will help make those ideas a reality.

Help promote each other's fics, art, blogs, videos, ect. (Best way to get me to help promote something you've done, then DM something you want me to reblog.) (I'll try to do better in this regard to promote others.)

Give each other corrective criticism when needed and realize that not all cristicism is bad. But if you personally find no use for parts of the criticism, disregard it and continue on.

When an artist cucks Krillin or Yamcha, they will claim to like Krillin or Yamcha in order to protect their butts. But, try flipping their false logic on them and say "You like (insert Saiyan characters here) too. Now cuck them in your next one like you did with Krillin/Yamcha." And keep doing so often. They will either try to find a way out with excuses, refuse, or give in and do it. Then we just keep pressuring them to do so more often. They are weak to pressure if enough is applied. Pressure to be popular is one reason why they cuck Krillin & Yamcha. We just need to do so in our favor. If they like Gohan or Vegeta like how they like Krillin or Yamcha, then why dont they draw the Saiyans getting cucked? Why don't we just apply a little pressure and see what happens? 😉😈

Have each other's backs in disputs if possible, but try to remain more composed than your opponent. But if a Saiyan fan is too ignorant and too stubborn to believe reality, dont waste your time & just leave. No reason to prove your point to someone who denies truth. They are a waste of your time and energy. Let your "opponent" stay wrong sometimes. Most of the time they just want to fuss. A correct person doesn't need to argue if they've made their point clear.

Make sure that you understand the Earthling characters as well as the Saiyan characters. You must know your "enemy" to defeat them. (Which is why I have informative posts about Saiyans on my blog instead of only Earthling information. Knowledge is power.)

My personal addition is our alliance of Earthling fans would exclude Roshi & Oolong fans. And even certain Mr. Satan fans.

I use actual character traits to make my comics and art believable to combat the hatred towards Krillin. They base their cuck/NTR stuff on lies. If we make any stuff where the Earthlings cuck/NTR the Saiyans, then we base it in truth. Lies attract eisier, but truth is undeniable.

Sidenote; Aint it crazy how Saiyan fans will work hand-in-hand with certain Earthling fans who make content of Roshi, Oolong, or Mr. Satan cucking Krillin & Yamcha? (But more often its Krillin.) This is a clever tactic. How so? They promote the idea that Saiyans are stronger and superior while working with people who promote that extremely weaker characters both cuck Krillin & Yamcha. They have managed to weaponize Earthlings against Earthlings for their own gain. They mind little if it effects their favorite Saiyan character so long as it greatly & continuously damages the reputation of certain Earthling characters. (Its a "Do more art of Krillin & Yamcha getting cucked by Roshi & Oolong instead of Goku & Vegeta. Or better yet, since we're friends now, do more art of Saiyans cucking Krillin & Yamcha. You'll have my support and the support of my fans.")

Because of this, I plan to exact some sort of justice through indisputable facts. Examples being that Roshi is an extremely elderly man who likes getting beaten up by weaker women & watching women he's attracted to be with other guys; (a masochist cuck with E.D.). Oolong would rather peep instead of engage, & the girls he kidnapped made him their servant; (a submissive cuck). Mr. Satan is a coward who is easily turned into a "bitch" by anyone slightly stronger than him and will do whatever they say as he quickly became Majin Buu's servant without even being threatened; (can also be described as a submissive cuck). The battle-addicted Saiyans are built for battle instead of pleasure (small penis size like the primates they're based off of) and prefer combat over family as they gain pleasure from fighting & will leave their wives alone for a loooong time; (NTR anyone?).

°Twitter link that explains more of my thoughts.° 👇

EVENTUAL DISCORD SERVER

I do plan on making a Discord server. That way us like-minded individuals can converse and work together. But one of the rules would be to have some sort of respect for each other. Aint gotta always agree, but if we respect each other, we can still get along and build towards our goals. Keep it as civil as possible amongst ourselves. Many Saiyan fans want us to fight amongst ourselves to make their job easier. Dont give them what they want. And I'm sure some of us in the server will hate Saiyans while others will like them but are tired of them being worshiped because of lies and other dumb reasons. I may have to make a specific channel for ppl who want to vent about Saiyans. We'll figure it out as we go. All in due time.

Also gotta think of a cool name for the server that represents the Earthlings. "Earth's..." Idk. "Defenders of Mankind." Too much? "Earthling Defenders." Maybe? "Earth's Genki Dama." Might be better.... Kinda creativity bankrupt at the moment 😅

[vexture]

Let's go 3, 7, 15, 20, 27 for ask game!

3. What ideas come from when you were little

If I'm taking the question correctly, that would be my affinity for drawing beings that look like a bunch of stuff piled together. I don't remember much of my childhood drawings, but my mama keeps most of them in her filing cabinet. From what I've seen, I've always liked shit like that. I had an oc named Broomy, he was a dog like creature who had a pumpkin for a head, the body of a broom, paws (same color as the broom) and the straw end for the tail, and candle pupils. I loved that guy with my whole heart man, I need to find a picture of him or something to redraw. Other than that, gore. Don't subject your children/siblings to horror movies and adult swim shows guys, seriously

7. A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate

Physical/digital stim boards. I don't understand the digital appeal, but that might be because I've never had one that was like "oh damn that looks great" but I have touched a physical stim board, I hated every second because it had sequins on it (I Cannot Touch Those) but the enthusiastic explanation I got made me like it, even if I couldn't touch it. Digital ones look really cool too, I'm just very specific on what I like looking at, but I imagine that it takes forever to find the proper gifs that aren't too fucked up and do all the arrangements and border work, I would love to try one, but I'm genuinely at a loss on what to do ^^;; Tumblr stim girlies (gender neutral) I love y'all to bits

15. *Where* do you draw (don't drop your ip address this just means do you doodle at a park or smth)

I draw largely at home, having chronic pain can extremely limit what I can do during a day. I love taking my traditional shit out to draw at the park, but I don't get ideas too often for it to be worth the bag space I could use for something else. Speaking as someone who has literal drawers full of art supplies, I wish I could go out with it all and be unbothered by The General Public, because I like drawing people out and about, but the distain overwhelms me and so does the arthritis

20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy

Almost every time an artist friend comes to me while I work, it's "wow you're really good at eyes, that's the least favorite part for me" and I can see why. I learned how to do realism from Vogue and People magazines, the shots were clear, it had closeups of hands/eyes/clothes, and eyes were the first thing I learned how to draw properly, I love them sm, they are always in the margins of papers I'm stuck with, or color practice, or whatever I need the eye to be for. Very reliable part of the body artistically for me :>

27. Do you warm up before getting to the good stuff? If so, what is it you draw to warm up with

See number 15 for a short answer.

Long answer: I have a very small window to get a drawing done, if I can't get it within the day, or even 2 hours, I have a very hard time picking it up again due to depression, the chronic pain, and sometimes my headmates don't actually know how to use the computer to draw. I consider the amount of drawing I do something to be proud of most days, between the brain fog/deperson/derealization and aching joints, the amount of work I do can be great all things counted. Sure, others can get out more things with worse than me, or what have you, but my style is detail heavy with the line work and colors, and composition is hard for me.

Tangent here:

I would like to say that even if you get out only one drawing every once in a while due to shit getting in the way, at least it's something and you should be proud of yourself for being able to accomplish that within the parameters you have. The algorithm sucks, on every platform, even here on Tumblr with their abysmal search bar, so there's sometimes a pressure to put out a bunch to get a little recognition, but quality over quantity, y'know? No matter what, try not to stare down the cliff of having a shit ton of numbers attached to your hard work.

The incentives are great, and I completely understand that, but once you look at it as a chore, you'll never do shit for you again like you used to without giving up on the algorithm anyway. I avoid going down any tags unless I absolutely have to, because I get discouraged by the numbers, so I end up just looking at my art, and friend's art only. It's okay to stare at your own shit, I've never seen anyone say that anywhere as of recent, so for those who need it, it's okay to be in love and enamored by your own work enough to stare at it even days after posting it, I highly encourage looking at your own art like you do others, because that's a good source of encouragement, or at least for me, love what you do, give yourself a break from not being at the top of every tag/platform, because that's a double edged sword, and no one likes getting blood on their suits

[artistic-m3nace]

BrDim: What are Void Demons and what the hell is the zio'andar??

And we're back with another infopost! Click here to go to the masterpost with the whole shebang.

First off, the term "void demon" is a funny little term I came up with y e a r s ago to describe what Ev is (this was back before Broken Dimensions as a concept even existed). Back then, I had no idea how to go about constructing a fictional language. I still don't! But I know more than I did then, and have bits and pieces from the Old Tongue that originated in [ x ] - which is where the word "ziojic" comes from!

( keep reading below the cut )

Now if y'all harken back to the post about voids, you'll remember where I talked briefly about Old Tongue and how "zio" was the old [ x ] word for void. There's multiple words in the conlang that use "zio" - zio'cerual, zio'ajay, ziorisa and'mori, ziojic, zio'andar, ziorisa demonica... There could be more. This post is specifically about the last three:

ziojic - lit. "Void magic," or magic that is of the nature of The Void (sentient) or that operates best in voidspace. Can be used to mean "user of Void magic," and is therefore also the word people use when they actually mean ziorisa demonica because THAT is a mouthful!

zio'andar - lit. "void death-rune" or "void death rune of" if we're getting literal with the order and apostrophe usage which frequently represents a connecting word like "of." More commonly known as the void death rune, or the VDR, this rune can be used to get yourself promised resurrection from the gods. (The zio'andar was the rune at the top of this post!)

ziorisa demonica - lit. "void-creature hailing from hell." Someone who was created in the Void, or more commonly: someone who was resurrected using the zio'andar. The in-universe word for Void Demon.

Again, feel free to reference the void post for the specifics. I know all this like the back of my hand bc I made it it's like my brain child, but I know for a fact that my stuff gets tangled up when I retell it. You won't offend me by asking questions or for links either lol I could talk about this forever.

( I feel like I'm teaching a class to a room that only might have people in it lol )

So to recap: ziojic literally refers to a user of Void magic but in practice is usually used to refer to someone who is ziorisa demonica. And that word is a mouthful but it refers to someone who's been resurrected using the zio'andar. But what is the zio'andar? What's Void magic besides magic from the domain of The Void (sentient)?

We'll get to that next!

Firstly, the zio'andar is a resurrection rune that is tied to a promise even the gods cannot (or should not) break. The official way to use this rune is to carve it into your skin as you die, which implies that you should have a copy of it on hand or have it memorized and be able to draw it under the duress of a slow or painful death. In practice, you can have the rune tattooed on yourself in an accessible location (still involves blood infusion, which is the binding key here) and cut yourself over one of its lines when you die and BOOM! magic deity-approved resurrection!

But WHY would someone want that?

Revenge. Love. Especially star-crossed love in which you want to spend the rest of eternity together but are being faced with brutal death because your respective families hate each other's guts à la Romeo and Juliet. Spite. Or you can be unlucky like Ev and have it tattooed on you without permission and taught to cut over it in near-death situations because your aunt was part of a cult. Any reason, really!

And, of course, it's a guaranteed promise from the gods in charge of managing this promise. They're honor-bound to do it. And while some of the gods are sleezebags, Morsanna, Ialu, Maikoa, and Meyaa typically are not.

Morsanna, Ialu, Maikoa, and Meyaa make up the Resurrection Council. Morsanna is the goddess of Death and thus has purview over anything dealing with it directly, especially resurrection, which violates the laws of nature. Ialu is the goddess of prophecy and is on the Council to catch and interpret glimpses of the future to decide whether or not Morsanna gets to forfeit this person or not (usually not). Maikoa is the god of trickery and technically shouldn't be here, but they tried to free The Eternal Darkness once or twice and is now the Guardian of it (TED is The Void (sentient) from which all Void magic originates). Meyaa is the goddess of voidspace and is the other Guardian of The Void (sentient), and is by proxy the patron of all ziojic.

These four are good on their word most of the time (except for Maikoa, although they make an exception for this), so you can expect your plea for resurrection to be granted. If not, such as in the event that Ialu divinves that you're going to do terrible things and have ulterior (unjustifiable) motives for becoming ziorisa demonica, like maybe you killed yourself just to resurrected and get Void powers, then Morsanna intervenes and you have to fight her to first blood. And Morsanna never loses.

Now all this can be traced back to the resurrection of Nathan Shasear, way back in Era 3, which used the zio'andar before it was the zio'andar. Ialu granted him resurrection then because he saved her from a horrible non-death at the hands of someone who would use her future sight for evil, and because she's cool with Morsanna. Afterwards, the two of them god Mai and Meyaa on board for creating a promise rune to bestow upon the gods' Chosen, their right hand persons, so to speak. Or their loyal adventurers who did quests for them and faced peril on a regular basis, a job which would find an on-demand resurrection rune handy.

( Which means, in theory, that the VDR/zio'andar works multiple times. )

As for what perks that comes with, well, The Eternal Darkness (The Void (sentient)) wasn't locked away after the War for Balance for nothing. Being blessed with the magic of The Void (sentient) is like being blessed with the magic of Solorana herself - but inverted.

Solorana's life-giving creation magic is healing, non-corrosive. Light. Happy. Pleasant. The Eternal Darkness's magic was made to corrode and defy natural laws like gravity and the tentative voidspace between reality planes (see this post and the void post for info on all that). Void magic is more diluted that TED's raw power, but the themes are still the same. Here are some of the features that come with being a ziojic:

mildly corrosive blood! Ziojic blood is over 50% pure Void matter and can thus act as a mild acid, one that you wouldn't want your skin to come in contact with for prolonged periods of time (or at all, really)

exceptional teleportation skills! Ev usually calls this "the grid sense," which is pretty accurate. The grid sense is, essentially, the subconscious ability to sense the world around you on a metaphysical level. It doesn't quite allow you to see through solid matter or across improbable spans of land, but you can feel it all out with a bit of practice. Ev and Caitie Davis are fairly well-practiced with it by the 2040s, when "Book 2" takes place and are able to sort of see the literal gridding of their immediate surroundings, like a video game render. This allows a ziojic to visualize where they're teleporting to and foresee obstacles, people, or movement.

gyromanipulation (or gravity manipulation) skills! These already exist in the BrDim universe in the form of hyper- and hypogravitational magic, but ziojic gyromanipulation is a step up. It's like an instant track to mastering hyper/hypograv magic, and then some. More precise levitation and reorientation skills (no flight, that's not really a thing with just magic, even Void magic like this), better projectile aim and control, better sense of one's self when in the air (jumping, falling, etc.). It's cool.

markings! All ziorisa demonica have thick bands of color on their cheeks coming down from their eyes, as well as bands around the upper arm/bicep area.

bioluminescence! It varies from person to person as to what specifically glows, though. Caitie Davis's hair glows and takes on a plasma-like flow, and she can make her bones glow. Ev's hair glows a little at the ends (the orange part) and technically their hair is a ziojic feature in and of itself - it was just brown before. Their freckles also glow in the dark, along with their scars. Corrin Merrinak (who I haven't introduced yet) has horns that glow in the dark. All ziojic's eyes glow though, and have dark/black sclera.

ziojic can survive in the void with no life support measures! They are also immovable by the ziois, ocean-like waters on the edges of flat worlds like Tartarus or parts of the Iron Archs.

And that's the scoop! The ziojic race definitely has some of the most complicated lore out of the bunch lol but they're some of my favorites to write and draw. I love their sick powers too!!

Now. Here's the part I'm obligated to say because I care about humanity as a whole (content warning):

DO NOT GET THIS TATTOOED ON YOUR VERY REAL BODY !!!!FOR THE EXPRESS REASON!!! TO COMMIT DIE TO SEE IF THE GODS WILL RESURRECT YOU.

DO NOT. PLEASE DO NOT.

Get this tattooed on yourself if you think my project is cool and/or like the design. You've got my permission as long as you told people where you got it. It's one of the tattoos I'm pretty sure I want to get someday, so I get that. But do not do so thinking that it will resurrect you if you cut it when you die. It will not.

End content warning.

I love you all, and I mean that very genuinely (platonically <3). But if you think for some reason that the funky lil complicated rune I made up will bring you back to life with insane powers, you're wrong. Go touch some grass and turn down the edgy megalomania, please.

Otherwise, if you feel inclined to such things for more complicated reasons, please reach out to someone you trust. If you don't want to do that, think of your pets. your favorite plants. what they'd do without you. call or text a hotline. go stand in the sun. eat chocolate - MAKE SURE YOU'RE HYDRATED AND FED AND NOT ILL. Coming from experience, these things do help. And strangely, things do tend to get better. A little. In increments so small that sometimes you don't notice until suddenly it's been a year and now you're agnostic instead of traditionalist, but it happens. Even if it does feel like shit sometimes anyway.

K'oyacyi, folks. Hope you enjoyed the lore! Take care <3

[alpaca-clouds]

Word Search? Word Search!

Alright, after being tagged with 15 words, @mikaharuka had her revenge, tagging all of us with 15 words: Pillow, Trust, Mirror, Fog, Bird, Coffee, Wedding, Return, Terrify, Hidden, Stone, Whisper, Suffocate, Prepare, Garden

Now, I already know, for this I will have to take some words from Closure and The little Things as well - unable to find everything in The lesser Evil.

But first... More words, right? So, I'll tag y'all with:

Hard, Fall, Pain, Nail, Low

And I'll tag... @mikaharuka right back. @tsunderewatermelon @0nelittlebirdtoldme @udaberriwrites @lena-hills

Pillow

[From Closure - Chapter 6: "A fair warning would've been nice"]

Getting out of her sandals, she slipped onto the bed, to cuddle up to Trevor. “You will now have to content with Dracula being your father-in-law.”

Letting himself fall back into the pillows Trevor let out a dramatic sigh. “I guess I have to. Honestly, somebody should've told me before I married the fucking bastard.”

“Would it have changed anything?"”

“No, it would not have. Still, some fair warning about the mortal enemy of your family still being alive would've been bloody nice.”

Trust

[From The little Things - The thing about trust]

The Belmont could not help a little grin, as he his hands pushed underneath Adrian's night gown. His fingers where gliding across Adrian's skin, while he slowly, very slowly pulled up the fabric. Only when he had pulled it over Adrian's head, did he kiss his shoulders, then his breast. Tenderly his lips closed around Adrian's nipple, sucking it a bit.

It did feel good.

Some part of Adrian wished, he could just give himself up, allow the two of them to just lead the way. And yet he was still too afraid. He trusted them, but he did not trust himself, his own mind.

Sypha's lips found that spot underneath his ear. First, she kissed him, then her tongue flicked across the spot, earning her a little moan.

Mirror

[From The lesser Evil - Chapter 1: From Hell]

The demons did not like the sun and neither did the undead, whose energy fed them. Hence, the windows of the laboratory were covered with thick curtains, keeping all the light of the late afternoon outside. Instead, candles lightened the hall, in the midst of which a mirror stood. At first it seemed to be an ordinary mirror, but Alexander did know it not to be. His mentor and master used it to communicate with the king of hell. As he was now, it seemed. While to Alexander's eyes the mirror did reveal nothing but darkness, his master saw something, could speak to someone.

He was perfecting the spell. The lines he had drawn on the ground were glowing with magical power. Power, that would hopefully be enough to draw one of the arch demons out of hell.

Fog

[Uhm, yeah, this one I cannot find. In none of my works. xD]

Bird

[From The lesser Evil - Chapter 31: Invasion]

He was not a simple soldier, though. He was Trevor fucking Belmont and he would not just die by being splashed on the bloody ground. Once again the Morning Star flew, wrapping itself around the giant demonic bird that had grabbed it. The creature screeched, as the ordained metal was burning into its feathers. Then Sypha came—running through the air on her icy platforms. Mid air she summoned a giant sheath of ice, it cutting through the birds body, just as another icy platform appeared beneath Trevor to catch him from falling.

There was no moment to say thanks, to do something else, however, as screams were already coming from the city below.

It was, as they had feared. The city was not at all prepared to be attacked by flying forces, by creatures that could easily scale the city walls. As Trevor made a jump to the next roof and from there to the ground, he saw a creature, that did have no head, just a giant gaping maw between its shoulders, several tentacle like tongues sticking out. It just ran into one of the building, pulling the door out of its frame as if it was parchment, before going inside.

Coffee

[This one is from In Sickness and in Health, because logically speaking Isaac is the only character, who drinks coffee]

Hector still felt way to tired to give much of a reply, instead he stretched and got up. Still half asleep—it really could not be much past eight in the morning, looking at the sun and the blue sky—he moved his own sorry ass to the bathroom, cleaning his face with cold water, hoping to somehow awaken his life spirits. It took some ground up coffee heated with water over the fire, though, to actually awaken him. And once he was awake, he could feel the worry coming in, too, as he remembered Isaac's wounds.

He looked at the other man, who was sipping his own coffee, wondering whether it was alright. With Isaac it was so hard to tell. Because he would always just hide it. But at least when he got up, he was no longer staggering, both legs firmly beneath his body. So maybe Hector had succeeded the night before at rinsing all foreign bodies out of those wounds. Leaving it only a matter of time until the wounds were properly healed.

Wedding

[Substituted with "Marriage". From Closure - Chapter 13: A Twist of Fate]

The Belmonts… It was a strange thought. Ever since Leon had decided to stop him, to follow him through all of Europe there had been a feud between him and the Belmont family. A stupid little feud arisen out of the pride of two stupid men. And now his son had married a Belmont, had named his own children Belmont.

Fate, if it existed, might as well play a game with him.

He had overheard what Adrian and Lisa had been talking about in the garden, too. It explained some things. Bad things had happened before the boy had come here. Really bad things by the sound of it.

Return

[From The lesser Evil - Chapter 34: The Hole]

"After we've taken Vienna, we'll take Prague," another 20 000 souls to summon demons with. He smiled in what he hoped would be a reassuring gesture. "I already told you: We will return home before winter." Which of course had never been his plan. Because he would march on, take Aachen, where the stupid Emperor was long dead, would take Paris, too, and then finally Rome. Only when that city was burned to the ground he would be able to rest. Only when that self-proclaimed servant of God had been killed—together with all his lackeys, would his anger be finally be soothed.

There were more insecure gazes exchanged between the knights. Well, all, but the oldest one, Kolt. Who cleared his throat and spoke in his deep melodic voice. "Don't you guys see? These are forces given to us by God, for God is on our side. God wants Austria-Hungary to be one again."

Gilles smiled. "Exactly."

Terrify

[From Closure - Chapter 36: A Call From Home]

“I know…” Of course, Sypha knew this. It was the obvious answer. She had just never really considered it to be a viable option. She could not even say exactly why. She liked collecting knowledge and that seemed to be the common pastime of vampires. Also, an eternity to collect stories did seem like a speaker thing to aim for. But at the same time the thought of not seeing the sun, of drinking blood. It did terrify her.

And, obviously, the entire process seemed to be more gruesome than anything she had imagined. Trevor did not mention it, but she knew he had been in a lot of pain.

“I guess it is your decision. I mean, you have time, don't you?”

Hidden

[From The lesser Evil - Chapter 2: The Duchess' Herald]

“It went as expected,” Isaac said. He went over to the window, looking outside where the horizon was hidden behind mountains. Even in late summer the mountain tops were still covered in ice and snow. It was a beautiful sight, especially on a sunny day like this, when the snow was gleaming in the light.

Hector got up to join him. “We cannot afford war with Bavaria.”

“I know we can't.”

“So, what are you planning?” Hector still did not like that he had to care about any of this. When Isaac had killed Carmilla, the queen who had once crowned herself, all Hector had wanted to do was to enjoy the quiet. He had wanted to spent time with Lenore, one of Carmilla's vampire sisters, but in the end, Lenore had not wanted this. At least he had wanted to read the books, of which the vampires had collected many, write his own book on magic and philosophy. But once more the world had decided to ignore his wishes.

Stone

[From The lesser Evil - Chapter 4: Arch Demons]

Then, there was a noise. Quiet, at first. But he could hear it. Something. A tapping. Like wood on stone. Was it wood or something else? The sound alone made a shudder crawl down his neck. There was something waiting for them.

“This is a trap,” he muttered.

“As I was saying the whole fucking time!” Trevor grunted.

“Yes, you are right. But I…” Adrian swallowed. He was not sure what to do next. If it was a trap, it would be there to distract them from something else, right? But what would it distract them from?

“I say, it needs to be a good fucking trap,” Striga said.

“But you hear it too, don't you?” Adrian asked.

Now it was she, who grunted. “Yes. It sounds like insect legs. Many of them.”

Trevor shuddered. “Fucking great.” He spared her yet another suspicious look.

Whisper

[From The little Things - The thing about honesty]

Adrian drew another deep and shaky breath. He had to force himself to look at either of them. “The truth is, that I wanted to have sex with you. Both of you. I really did – and I still do. I just… I think, I cannot handle, being held down in any way. At least not for now.”

Once more Trevor turned around to her. She just nodded. “Of course,” she said. “I…”

Trevor interrupted her. “We will be careful.”

Adrian, too, nodded. “I am just…” He could not finish the sentence.

For another moment Sypha hesitated. Then she went over to him. “Is it okay, if I hug you?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

And thus, she put her arms around him, pulling him close. Even she could tell, that he smelled of dirt, sweat and blood. He really was a mess. Shakily, he raised his hands, putting them around her. He hid his face against her chest. “I wish, I could simply forget.”

To her surprise, it was Trevor, who answered, before she could find the right words: “Forgetting will probably not happen. But the memories will fade, become easier to bear. I promise.”

Suffocate

[From The lesser Evil - Chapter 18: A Deal with the Devil]

Gilles was trembling, as they were binding him against the stake. His heart was racing and even though the fires were not yet burning, he already felt like suffocating from the smoke.

There was no good God. It had always been a lie. He had always been a liar, tricking her, tricking them all into worship. If there was a God, that god was vain, was no different from those corrupt clergymen. If there was a God, he did not deserved to be worshipped. He did not deserve a pure being such as her following him.

Once more the sentence was read out, but Gilles did not hear it was his mind was trying to graple with this new truth. He had lived for a lie. She had died for it.

Prepare

[From The lesser Evil - Chapter 20: Choices]

"I want you, to walk me through everything you know," Hector said. "Why you've come here and what had been promised to you for helping them?"

"I did not really help," Johannes muttered, his voice bitter. "Everything I did was invoke the spell they had already prepared."

"I get that," Hector said. "Don't you know any magic other than that?"

"No. It is forbidden."

Ah, yes. Forbidden magics. Of course it was. Hadn't they burned Dracula's wife for the crime of magic—magic that had not been that. "Of course. So, what was promised for you to help them out?"

"Nothing. It is an honor to…" The boy's voice broke. He did not really believe it either.

Hector waited. He waited for the boy to speak again.

Garden

[From Closure - Chapter 2: Among the Living]

There, in the distance, there was a cottage. It was not quite part of the little town, just as they had seen in the mirror. It had to be where they were living. Adrian could make out a figure in the garden – a figure with blond hair. Even in the distance he knew it had to be his mother.

His mother. Alive.

A part of him wanted to jump from the hog and run towards her. Another part wanted to run into the other direction. What if it wasn’t them? What if it was some sort of impostor? What if…

His breath was shaky. This was too much. It was so unreal. And yet the two horses steadily pulled them towards the cottage. It would be fine, wouldn’t it?

[eremin0109]

"They're freaking brothers" someone kill me please this is like the 8068392820th time I've seen this argument can't y'all come up with something more creative?

Because it's just factually wrong. In the canon, AT BEST, Arjun and Krishna are very distant cousins (what with Kunti being Vasudev's biological sister but because she was adopted by Kuntibhoj, she would carry his name and lineage and her children would be like 3rd cousins to the Yadavas or some shit)

and anyway do I REALLY need to remind y'all that this same "They're related!!!!!" logic can be applied to Arjun and Subhadra seeing as to how they're fucking married in the canon and no one seems to bitch about that.

We have Krishna repeatedly stating how Arjun is the most important person in his life, how he cannot imagine a life without him, how he would sacrifice the world, even himself for Arjun's sake. He calls him his other half, CANONICALLY.

We have Arjun putting his utmost faith (almost blindly so) in Krishna, spending a lot of time going on secret outings with him where they are said to have shared a bed frequently, being the only person to have witnessed Krishna in his complete essence: body, heart and soul, the Vishawaroop (well, there were other people who saw the avatar too but the display was quote blatantlyfor Arjun and Arjun only). I don't even have to go into the story of "Arjuni" in the Padma Purana where Arjun genderswaps to go "sport" with Krishna in Vrindavan (during one of the Raas-Leelas). The entire episode is gay as fuck.

And all of this is just off the top of my head. Nara and Narayan may have been "twin saints", but they also literally symbolise the union of mortality and divinity, in every single way. They're the embodiment of "Two Bodies, One Soul" And the interpretation of what that means is left up to the reader. Not to mention, they're the deities of the Satya-Yug, when everything was perfect. There were no vices or sins or pleasure or pain (or sex, at least not explicitly lmao). The nature of their relationship then represented the ideal of that era.

But when they were reincarnated as Krishna and Arjun, obviously they were bound to change, shaped by this new, much darker era. You can't expect them to feel about each other the same what they felt back then. It's a much different time, wildly different circumstances. There's obviously still that camaraderie and connection there, a residue from their previous lifetimes, but Krishna and Arjun are Narayan and Nara only in spirit. Otherwise they have nothing in common.

Anyway, I went off on a rant there but what I really wanted ro emphasize is that the Mahabharata is a story, first and foremost, a sprawling, enchantingly complex tale of well, everything really. The origin of it is unknown and we could go all day about whether it actually happened or not but that is not the point at all. It doesn't matter if it was the exaggerated retelling of what happened in India's ancient past or the brainchild of a prodigious bard. The fact remains that it's a glorious artifact that not only represents India's long-standing culture of discussion, debate and tolerance but also begins with a line that says "what is found here can be found elsewhere, but what is not found here is found nowhere".

So pray tell me, OP, is such a text really not capable of accomodating a few headcanons, silly drawings and fanfiction? Some "controversial" (read: different that the mainstream) opinions or hating certain characters or even shipping characters is not gonna "ruin" the glory of the epic. Hell, all of that, whatever outrageous thing you can think of, has probably happened in some or the other story of Mahabharata, in some or the other way. Hence the quote.

So there's nothing wrong with having alternate interpretations of the text, as long as you're not being an asshole about it, smh.

There are people who hate Bhisma Pitamah?

THE BHISMA PITAMAH???

[slytherinsnekxvii]

let's talk about lily evans and the marauders, aka moony, wormtail, padfoot and prongs. given that i didn't use their actual names, i think you can figure out where this is going. it's also long as hell, so. canon vs fanon, marauder edition, except snek is sleep deprived.

now, before we begin, i don't dislike the marauders. or lily, tbh. if I'm being perfectly, genuinely honest, i still go back and forth sometimes but they've been growing on me for a while now. the canon versions, at least. fanon does them real dirty, and that's part of why i'm writing this, because i'm genuinely tired of it. it's an injustice.

you can at least make excuses for james and lily, who were so undeveloped that jkr practically dropped a fill-in-the-blank sheet of character information in our laps, but sirius, remus and peter were around long enough for y'all to get real acquainted with them.

in canon, sirius black is an unhinged mf. genuinely. this isn't to say he's a bad guy, in fact, we see that he's still capable of doing good things, still capable of love, still capable of all the things that prove he's actually not bad at heart, just,,, severely traumatised and very steeped in negativity from his time with the dementors. what i'm saying is that this man is absolutely, no questions asked, no holds barred demented, and how could he not be? the guy sat wrongfully imprisoned in azkaban for twelve years, a good portion of which he spent as a dog in order to protect himself from the dementors. he certainly wasn't completely insane, but you cannot tell me that he was all there. he got out of azkaban fuelled almost solely by the intent to get revenge on pettigrew, tried to commit murder in front of three witnesses who were also children—one of whom was his godson—ate rats and was also malnourished, which i'm certain did not help the situation any. this man is off his goddamn rocker, and you know what? you love to see it. good for him.

oh, but, snek, that's what he's like as an adult. what about when they were at school? before azkaban? my guy, the reaction he has to grimmauld place is not the reaction of someone without trauma. i don't believe that walburga and orion were the type to physically abuse their children, but whatever happened in that house helped to fuck him up enough that he skipped the joke of part of practical joke, and pranked snape by telling him how to meet a werewolf that he knew would be fully transformed and dangerous to humans. more than that, the werewolf was remus, whom he's friends with, and who—best case scenario—would be facing a trial if james hadn't stepped in. you can say that maybe he didn't think about or understand the gravitas of his actions, but at the end of it, that's not how properly sane people react to people they dislike, and that's not how they treat their friends. if anything, it reads like he was in the middle of a breakdown and absolutely losing his shit and he wasn't thinking at all.

my guy went through some serious shit, and was in no way completely mentally stable. we can see pretty clearly that he's got a serious dark side to him that probably would have gone unbridled had he not disagreed with his family, and yet, fanon took one look at him and went, "teehee, uwu bad boi go vroom."

fanon said padfoot is a pretty boy with nice hair who is tastefully traumatised from his horribly abusive household. sirius rides his motorcycle and plays jokes and flirts with anything that moves, but he can do no real wrong and always comes back to his soft, bookish, chocolate-loving boyfriend remus, who will laugh about his lycanthropy and quietly disapprove but secretly laugh at his friends' antics while hiding his smile in his cardigan.

respectfully, what in the absolute fuck.

i'd put that meme in here if i could, the one that's like, "well done, you've broken _______ down to its bare essentials," but no. i can't bc it doesn't even apply. this isn't a meme, it's theseus' fucking ship.

fanon broke it down, and replaced the pieces one by one until we got to this point, where we need to sit down and ask ourselves, "is this even the same character?"

the answer is no, by the way. it isn't. when people talk about woobifying characters—you know, taking away every flaw they have, romanticising everything they do and making them only capable of doing good, wonderful, lovely things?—this is what we mean.

and it'd be one thing if it was just the one character, but, no. fanon went all in and made them all squeaky clean and boring, especially peter, who draws the shortest of the straws.

remus got fucked, too. not just because fanon insists on sticking him into a relationship with sirius. which, we'll tackle wolfstar in a bit, but that's not even the worst of it. here, we have yet another example of blatant, rampant woobifying. again, is he a bad person? no. we know he's a good guy, we know he's generally kind and well-mannered, we know that he wants to fo the right thing but hey, fun fact. did you know that you can be nice and a coward? did you know that you can be benevolent and good and kindly and have the greatest of intentions and still be shady as fuck? no? ask dumbledore. the man played people like chess pieces when he needed to, and he was a twinkly grandpa. these are things that can coexist.

teenage remus is a coward who, understandably, does not stand up to his friends, likely for fear of being ostracised, and doesn't uphold his prefect duties as he should and takes part in their bullying of snape as a result. he lets them romp with him in werewolf form while they are in their animagus forms and then, he lets them continue to do so even after they have multiple close calls, which, again, had anything happened, would have resulted in a trial in the best case scenario.

grownup remus is still a coward, he tells no one that sirius can move about the school in his animagus form despite wholeheartedly believing that he's a mass murderer, he tries to run out on his wife and unborn kid. he isn't deliberately making attempts to harm anyone, but he's content to sit back and let things happen to him and around him so he doesn't rock the boat, although he is capable of action, which we see when he is more than willing to help sirius merk pettigrew in the shack. he can be careless, he runs out to the shack knowing he hasn't taken his wolfsbane and ends up transforming in front of the students he, as a teacher, is meant to be protecting. of course, this doesn't negate his good qualities, it just bears repeating that his flaws do exist, and they're pretty serious.

fanon moony is always pleasant and kind and soft-spoken and bookish, and he always has to have his chocolate. he knows when to tell off his friends, and he'll do it, even if he's secretly amused by everything they do and laughs about it with his best friend, lily evans, who coincidentally spends all her time with them so he and sirius can go on double dates with james and lily and no one has to remember peter exists.

why. theseus' ship 2.0. does the actual character still exist or is this something entirely different thing bearing the same name?

as for peter, who needs peter pettigrew, the actual, legitimate, fourth marauder when you have lily evans? canon pettigrew is opportunistic as fuck. he's latching himself to the biggest bad on the block and he's going all in. for teenage peter, that was james and sirius, and for adult peter, that's voldemort. canon peter is good enough at transfiguration to master the animagus transformation, just like his friends, and he's good enough at potions to brew the potion that gives voldemort a body. and honestly, you can't say he wasn't brave. he could've run off somewhere and died, or changed his identity or something after he faked his death and framed sirius, but, no. he goes and resurrects voldemort. that's fucked up, yeah, but it happened and honestly, i respect that it. he stuck to his guns.

fanon wormtail is lucky if he exists beyond being a spineless sycophant for james and sirius, or an evil conniving little rat who's looking to toss his entire friend group to the wolves at eleven.

of course, this isn't meant to negate his bad qualities, he still murdered people and framed sirius and sold out the potters to die, but his good characteristics do exist, and james, sirius and remus genuinely were his friends.

and now, we get to lily and james.

we have hardly any information on either of them. they're a pair of cardboard cutouts that we can paint and stick flyers to and colour outside the lines however we want. we can do whatever the fuck, as long lily is brave and smart and somewhat kind and james is brave and willing to die for his family. we were essentially handed a pair of ocs.

and yet.

what little bits of canon we have are thrown out of the window regardless.

james is privileged and rich, and he throws hexes for fun. he's willing to hex lily when she disagrees with him, and then, he goes behind her back to continue hexing snape after she believes that he's stopped doing so. and that's all we know about him until he dies for his family at twenty-one years old. once again, say it with me: this does not negate his good qualities. he definitely had them, he took sirius in when sirius ran away from home, he became an animagus to keep remus company as a wolf, and he saved snape in the shack, thereby saving remus and sirius by extension. him having flaws does not make him a bad person.

fanon prongs is a feminist. he fights for equal rights for women everywhere, and he constantly treats his girlfriend, lily, like an absolute queen. he's the hottest boy in school and everyone claps when he walks through the halls. mcgonagall and dumbledore are always patting him on the back and making jokes with him. he has a built-in dark detector that helps him sense when someone is a evil and needs to he punished.

give me a break. the dude's cool and all, but was the gary stu treatment necessary?

...oh, he needed to match fanon lily? right, right.

canon lily is a contradiction unto herself. she's supposedly a great friend, but since we see her at a point where they were already drifting apart, we see her putting little effort into keeping their friendship afloat. she victim blames based on rumours, she doesn't seem to care over much about what snape has to say about the people who have been tormenting him since day one. and she's justified, of course, she doesn't have to stick around. canon lily is a bit of hypocrite, she says that snape calls everyone of her birth mudblood, but then that begs the question why she still hangs around with him if that's the case. he calls her mudblood, she retaliates by calling him snivellus, and finishes up with a dig about his underwear, which, sure, it's kicking a man with a rusty spoon and pouring salt in the wound, but she's, again, justified. i get where she was coming from. and then, of course, she dies for her kid after marrying the guy who relentlessly bullied her quote-unquote best friend for their entire school careers. but, like i said, canon lily is, in many ways, a contradiction.

lily is basically a plot device. she pushes everyone's narrative but her own, and does little else.

of course, this trend would continue in fanon. fanon lily exists to be the perfect girl who gets really angry over the slightest injustice, and of course, she gets to be one half of one of the oldest enemies-to-lovers "it was just sexual tension" cliche pairings in the book. she's just,,, a mary sue. in so many fics, so many headcanons, she's just pettigrew's stand-in, a girl to form a gang with marlene, mary and dorcas—who happen to be more undeveloped ocs who also get the woobify mary sue treatment—to parallel the marauders. there is nothing compelling about her character when she's presented as a saint, and even less when she's supposedly the other moral compass for the marauders that doesn't actually work because she thinks that james is cute.

and this brings me to the next topic. jily. what, why, how. this was supposed to be a healthy, happy relationship that would have lasted in the long run? absolutely not. even for its time, i can't say that i see it lasting.

first of all, jkr presents james' crush on lily as just that: a crush. a mildly obsessive one, but a crush nonetheless, which she tries to liken to the pulling of pigtails. and then, we see that james' way of getting her to go out with him consists of blackmail, and when that doesn't work, he resorts to threatening her. this could have been set aside if he had actually, genuinely changed when they started spending more time together, but as we're told by sirius and remus, he didn't. he just got better at hiding what he was up to. and it has to be that he hid it, because if she knew, this further damages the character that she's set up to have and paints her out to be either unable to stand up to him or an enabler.

regardless, they get married. and while i have trouble believing that it was out of genuine love, there are scenarios that could make some semblance of sense. it's wartime, after all, and maybe lily is worried about her stability in the wizarding world, so why not marry into an established family whose son is already showing interest? or perhaps, she falls into the trap of every bad boy cliche ever, and she thinks to herself, well, i got him to be better then, maybe i can get him to do even better in the future. or maybe, she doesn't get into a relationship with him immediately and sees him on and off, until eventually, she accidentally gets pregnant and they scramble to have a shotgun wedding so as not to leave lily alone at nineteen with a baby. or maybe they marry each other because they're there and sure, neither of then is ready and they don't know what love even is but what else is there to do when there's a dark lord about? anyways, the point is, they get married.

and then what? if we count pottermore into canon, he goes on to further damage her relationship with petunia and vernon, to the point where she ends up crying. if we don't, she fades into the background enough that nobody has anything to say about her. she's harry's mum, she's james' wife, lily potter, she was kind and smart and brave and that's it. her agency is gone, anything else we have of her personality is gone.

jily just,,, wasn't built to last. and, yeah, this,,, this is a hill i'll die on.

same with wolfstar, honestly. there are so many reasons why it wouldn't work, but fanon has made it so fucking prevalent that it's literally everywhere no matter where you look.

first of all, i've said it before and i'll say it again. sirius is more likely to get with james that he is to ever end up in a relationship with remus. their chemistry is just,,, underdeveloped. net zero for a relationship.

secondly, sirius instigated the werewolf prank, and lupin would have paid the price for it. this could have been overlooked, but he doesn't seem the slightest bit guilty about any of it when it's brought up in poa. he could have been responsible for lupin losing the security of his place at hogwarts in the best case scenario, and in the worst case, his life. and he seems to look forward to full moons, even though they clearly aren't pleasant for remus, which,,, yeah, you're going to have fun, but like, maybe be concerned about the fact that your friend undergoes excruciating pain and it isn't a pleasant time for him? read the room, my g.

thirdly, they don't trust each other as much as fanon seems to think they do. they were both willing to believe each other the traitor before ever suspecting pettigrew. sirius thought remus gave away the potters, hell, he thought remus was a spy for voldemort, and remus was convinced that sirius was a mass murderer. neither of them needed to be convinced.

fourthly, maybe i'm reading too much into it, but like. sirius had money. remus had no money, since, yk, he was a werewolf and struggling for cash and still, sirius,,, did not leave him any money. i feel like if you had money to spare, you would give to your friend who is literally poor. but, again, maybe i'm reading too much into it and this isn't as valid a point as i think it is.

and ehh, the fifth reason is that it's,,, actually very much not the representation for the ltgbt community that fanon says it is but y'all aren't ready for that conversation.

anyways, just,,, even when you set the couple shit aside, the power dynamics between everyone here is fucked. like, james and sirius are clearly at the top of food chain calling the shots and egging each other on. then there's lily, who isn't even a marauder, but is always ever-so-slightly above remus but still not on their level, because, well. neither of them actually listen to her. remus is the novelty friend, the friend who's,,, alright, i guess, but you keep them around specifically because they're funny or they can dance or they have something that you can either show off to other people or keep as your little inside joke, your little secret, yk? and peter is just sort of there. like, yeah, he can do what we can but does that make him as good as we are? no. does he have a funny little something about him that we can exploit? nah. therefore he sits at the bottom. and like, yeah, james and sirius are on the same level, but james is yanking sirius' chain, not the other way around. anyways, like i said. power dynamic's fucked and it bothers me that we were given all of this, and fanon decided to take it all and throw it away so they could give us flamboyant!badboi!sirius black x softboi!motherhen!remus lupin going on double dates with feminist!trustfundbaby!james potter and saint!lily evans while ignoring peter pettiwho?

theseus' fucking ship, indeed.

anyways, this needed to be said. it might not make as much sense as i want it to, considering it's 4:12 in the morning as i'm posting this, after taking a break from writing to do some research and coming across way too much content about fanon marauders, but it's here and it still makes enough sense that you can read it and understand what i mean. and like, at the end of the day, you can go ahead and headcanon whatever you please, you can write fic and make art and do whatever you like, just,,, remember that they're exactly that. headcanons. stop presenting fanon as canon. please. i'm literally begging. we actually have evidence against it. just,,, acknowledge that they're headcanons and stop putting them forward as though they're able to fit into canon. please.

[jimilter]

riptide (m) | k.sj. | (1/2)

one | two

pairing:  kim seokjin x reader

rating:  m (18+)

genre:  angst | smut | established relationship!au

summary:  It takes a foolishly trivial incident to unravel how astonishingly little you and Seokjin actually understand each other. It has you questioning your relationship, and him? Well, he’s questioning his whole life.

warnings:  swearing + implied alcohol consumption + realistic relationship problems + mentions of insecurities, jealousy, complicated mental dispositions + emotional distress + sexual situations (unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talking, a bit of manhandling, fingering) + mentions of masturbation + a ton of miscommunication (refer to the summary smh)

word count: 12.3 k

note:  it’s FINALLY done, y’all! came up to be a monster of 25k words, so i decided to split it into two. i’ll drop the other part next week. this took a lot more time, energy and re-writing than i’d thought it would. i began writing this in january - it’s been five excruciating months! 😩 i really hope y'all will like this one~ 🥺💜

💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

riptide (n) – a dangerous area of strongly moving water in the sea, where two or more currents meet.

Lady, running down to the riptide - Taken away to the dark side - I wanna be your left hand man.

The turn of events has been so fucking hilariously impossible that Seokjin has literally been rendered speechless. Which doesn't happen often, mind you. What can he do, he is just extremely witty—he always has something to say about everything, usually and preferably with impeccable comic timing. Especially when it comes to you. 

This, though. This completely baffling scenario, right in front of him, has him gaping like a goldfish with no words to say.

"Final call, Jin. Gawk at me for five more seconds and I walk out of here," you threaten, an elegant arm poised at your waist and gorgeously plump lips pressed into a thin line. "Say something?"

And Seokjin still cannot formulate a single word, because what the actual fuck? How can you even think that he could ever— 

"Alright." You catwalk out of his bedroom, leaving him blinking into space.

He jumps the next second, leaping after you. "Honey! How would—what—I can never—why do I even have to say—will you wait? You’re being so ridiculous, right now, I hope you know that!"

If he wasn't in such a fix, Seokjin would physically cringe at his speech. It was better when he was just gaping.

“Honey! Stop being so overdramatic, you’ve known me and you’ve known Jimin! For years! Stop acting like you seriously don’t know what happened, here!”

You don't stop, though, gliding down the stairs and hopping over the haphazardly tossed items in the living room as you exit out of the house.

And then you're gone. You're really gone, over something so fucking ridiculous, that Seokjin still has no words to say.

All he knows is that his girlfriend of five years has finally gone crazy enough to jump to conclusions of such high magnitude of stupidity.

And, that Park Jimin is a dead man.

It all begins on an unsuspecting Sunday morning, when the entire house is smelling of weed, stale booze and some worse fluids. 

Last night, Seokjin vacated his own bedroom for the boys to smoke up in at Jimin's request, because that is the only well ventilated room of the house. He spent the night in Yoongi's room with earplugs in, dead to all the chaos in the house—as he often does on party nights—to catch up on his beauty sleep. He cannot afford any unbecoming dark circles or, God forbid, breakouts.

And no, that's not a comedic moment, he really does need his face looking perfect this week for reasons outside of personal gratification too, because he has a shoot on Tuesday. He especially took a leave from his part-time job at the Mexican restaurant downtown where his girlfriend, you, work full-time, on a Tuesday—saying goodbye to all the amazing tips always forwarded to the cooks on Taco Tuesday—for this. Nothing would mess up his face.

Not to mention that one very important audition for a very gigantic project he's been looking forward to. They're yet to announce the date, but it would be this very month. He hasn't really told you much about it, planning a huge surprise for later when—if, actually, but he prefers to be unrealistically optimistic in every situation possible—he bags the coveted position, at the end. He hasn't really decided upon much, other than a long drive and a picnic date to one of those grasslands on the city's outskirts that you love so much. Oh, and bringing up the prospect of moving in together in an apartment with just the two of you. 

He's pretty certain you must not remember him raving about the opportunity, because it has been months since he did that. He then proceeded to be covert about all the mini auditions and trainings he underwent to prepare for the final audition, and he is confident you have not connected the dots.

But that is all a discussion for later — he doesn't even know when he would be auditioning. 

The crux of the whole matter is that he needs to keep looking as flawless as he can until that audition happens.

So he has slept like a baby, last night, while the rest of his friends have partied, including two out of three of his housemates—Hoseok and Jimin—along with Taehyung and Taehyung's girl. Namjoon had foregone attendance in lieu of the Halloween party, next weekend, that he knows he would definitely be forced to attend because Hoseok is hosting. Yoongi, his third and final housemate, escaped the house altogether to spend a night of music-making with Jungkook in his dorm.

So, in the morning, when Seokjin is moving around his kitchen that seems to have been hit by a tornado, checking the fridge and mentally praying that his baggie of smoothie ingredients is still in good shape—a scream echoes around the house.

Seokjin freezes. That sounded a lot like…you.

Immediately alert, he runs out of the kitchen and into the drawing room. Hoseok is hanging upside down on one of the couches, something that looks a lot like undigested white sauce pasta puddles on the ground, inches from his new, fiery red hair. Seokjin grimaces.

"Kim Seokjin!" your screech tears the silence.

Seokjin twists on his heels, looking up in the direction of his bedroom. It really is you. And you're in his bedroom—the room he did not occupy last night.

God only knows what kind of a scene you have walked in on. He hopes these idiots didn’t have an orgy up there, although he really can’t put it past them.

Not waiting another second, Seokjin rushes up the stairs and pushes through the doors to his bedroom. His mouth falls open on an audible gasp.

You stand next to his bed, dressed up elegantly in a navy dress that ends above your knees—which makes him wonder if you are here for an impromptu breakfast date—with one hand clutching his duvet that has uncovered what looks like…

…a head of long, dirty blonde hair.

Who the fuck?

In his bed?

"Hey, Honey!" Seokjin's voice is a squeak. "You… you here for a date?" he manages out of a suddenly parched throat.

You roll your eyes. "Uh huh. A fact you would've known if you looked at the texts I sent you last night." Your eyes are narrow at him. "This explains why you didn't, though. Busy night, Jin?" 

He balks at your words, at a loss. How could you even think it was him, when you know all about Park Jimin and his escapades?! 

Seokjin's blood boils. Fucking Jimin. There is going to be blood on Seokjin’s hands. 

In the midst of it, the blonde head shifts. 

Soon after, as you two watch, a pair of brown eyes with smudged makeup emerge from inside Seokjin's bed—and the audacity?! There’s makeup all over his covers! Jimin will pay for the dry cleaning. The face is followed by a whole, tiny woman of five-something feet who is, thankfully, covered in a shirt.

Seokjin is almost not breathing when the blonde starts to give him a dreamy smile, his gaze switching between her and you. And it’s extremely stupid, because he hasn’t seen this woman before, ever, in his entire life. But he catches the way your arms fall to your sides and those elegant, dainty fingers of yours ball up into fists as you look at the blondie’s face.

Fortunately, the girl recognises him at last before her grin could turn fully dopey, and with a squeak, jumps out of the bed. “You’re not—um. Hi. Sorry, I, uh. I’ll get going.”

And surprisingly, she does exactly that in less than a minute, leaving you to stare down at Seokjin.

“You know, it’s really unbecoming for a girlfriend to keep finding girls in her boyfriend’s bed every other week and not be given an explanation, ever.” Your tone is teasing, but your eyes are taunting. “You shouldn’t always be so dismissive, you know? What if I start getting ideas? I don’t think you even remember how to make up with your girlfriend, at this point, because I never fight.”

That is when Seokjin starts gawking. And literally doesn’t stop until you’ve left the house.

“I don’t get it,” Jackson says, stuffing cold noodles into his mouth and chewing on them without closing it. “Do you think he cheated on you, or do you not think he cheated on you?”

You look at your best friend with your face twisted up in disgust. You swear to God you would never have agreed to make friends with this guy on your mother’s insistence when the Wang family moved in next doors to you, had you known he’d turn out to be such a barbarian a decade later. Twelve-year-old Jackson had been such a decent kid—studious, elegant, well-mannered. What went wrong, along the way?

You exhale, shifting on your chair, very wary of any dried up fluids that you might come in contact with. “I know he did not cheat on me, Jax, the very notion is completely ridiculous.”

Jackson stops chewing and looks away from the WWE match playing on the TV to squint at you. “I’m…confused? Wait. What is the problem, then? What are you mad at him for?”

To be completely honest, you aren’t quite certain yourself.

But you do know that you don’t feel good. And that this feeling has been building up over a couple months, but you have only really acknowledged it head-on, today, in all five-something years of your relationship. Five years, seven months and eight days, to be exact, but that’s kinda besides the point.

You’ve had at least a few months’ worth of buildup that has gotten you to this point, you would admit. Especially after Seokjin had to cancel that visit to your hometown at the end of June, for your parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration because he had an important audition for a big-brand ad film. The cancellation was acceptable, but his offhand comment that, “thirty-five isn’t even that special, we’ll get them a huge gift for their fiftieth,” stayed with you longer than it should’ve. Things got okay-ish when you reminded yourself how Seokjin never really thought too hard about things he said, always being a humorous, unattached clown in every situation. But this morning's dismissal has pushed you over that edge. You straightaway goaded him, claiming he doesn’t remember how to make it up to you, and all you got in response was his shock and being called “ridiculous” and “overdramatic.” Fun.

You were most certainly joking, if a bit caustically, when you said what you did. He could have taken it as a joke and laughed it off. He could have taken it as a threat and comforted you, said it was Jimin that used his room, and maybe kissed you. You already knew what had happened when you saw the girl, anyway. But this was probably the third time this situation had happened, this month. 

Sure, you are understanding and really do know Jimin and what all he gets up to, but is that really supposed to be such a given? Asking your boyfriend to hug you close and kiss your forehead when you discover a girl in his bed just as you were about to cuddle the lump of sheets thinking it was him, is not too much to expect, is it?

Granted, Seokjin has never been extremely expressive, but still. It feels like he’s consciously trying to keep you at a distance, these past few months.

You don’t have the complete grasp of the storm of thoughts in your head yet, but you want to try and explain it to Jackson the best you can. 

“It was about respect, in a way, I guess,” you quietly mumble, and Jackson turns the TV off, now sitting cross legged on the couch to face your chair. He puts away his takeout container to frown at you, probably gleaning how serious this is for you. “He stood there, without saying a single word, expecting me to stop being mad. Almost willing me to stop being mad by making these big, incredulous eyes at me. Like it was that horrible of his girlfriend to demand for an explanation when she found a girl in his bedroom. It was just the two of us, I wasn’t making a scene in front of anybody. He just—ugh! He could’ve simply asked me to not be mad, said it was Jimin who spent the night in the room and maybe even laughed about it, or plotted Jimin’s murder—I would’ve joined in—but no. He acted like I was being stupid, told me not be ridiculous and dramatic. And that made me feel really stupid.”

Jackson winces. “And why do you think you were not being stupid?”

You exhale. “I wasn’t. Because I wasn’t actually accusing him of anything, and five years down the lane, he should know that now. I just wanted him to say it and not scold me when I tease-taunted him. He always expects me to know everything. And even though I always do, it gets tiring sometimes. These weird thoughts get to you — that maybe you’re being too understanding and he’s using that to his advantage, you know?” You look down at your lap, playing with your nails. “It’s just…um. I wanted him to coddle me, I guess. To treat this as something big because I was throwing a tantrum about it and, just, I don’t know—try to cajole me? Assuage me with his words, maybe? But he didn’t. Because he hasn’t done that in forever. Because I never need him to, because I always freaking understand everything!” A sob leaves you.

Jackson pats the place next to him. “C’mere, you dumdum, and stop hyperventilating,” he mumbles, hugging you to his side when you move to sit on the couch. “I don’t exactly understand how the relationship dynamics work, but from what you told me, I get that you wanted attention? Some loving? And instead you got disappointed looks because Jin expected you to be mature and rational about it — the way you always are — and that too with his fucking eyes and some low-key insult words? Is it something like that?”

Wow, Jackson really paraphrased all that amazingly. “Yes, actually. It’s exactly that.”

Jackson sighs. “Y’all have been together a long time, babe, so I guess it’s kind of a given that you’d get to a no-bullshit point. Which is why he hasn’t done that in forever, because y’all probably don’t need that kinda stuff between you anymore.”

“I get that, it’s how a relationship matures. But I’m pretty certain that it’s not supposed to make me feel like this,” you sound slightly muffled, having stuffed your face into Jackson’s hoodie-covered chest. “I feel—I feel like we got too comfortable and now he’s just started to take me for granted. And I also feel like I’m being too needy. Am I being needy and annoying? He’d hate me if I told him all this, won’t he? Half of the reason we’ve worked out so well is because we’re both career oriented and don’t waste time overthinking stupid shit.” You gasp. “Oh, no—would he leave me? He’s used to his girlfriend being mature, not needy—”

You are cut off when Jackson pulls you away by your shoulders, giving you a serious look. “Wait, wait, stop. What did you say? Not the needy part, you’re allowed to be needy once in all the damn three-sixty-five days y’all stay busy for. The…taking you for granted part. Pretty big of a thing to say, babe.”

You sigh. “We haven’t been on an actual date in months. Seokjin thinks there’s no need for that extra effort when we spend lunch breaks at work together, everyday. Outside of the restaurant, our meetings involve our entire flock of friends by default. It’s been three months since we slept together.” You sniff, hating having to impart such a private detail of your life. “So no, I don’t think it’s that big of a thing to say, at all.”

“Wow.” Jackson gives a slow whistle. “You’ve really been bottling up a lot in there, huh?”

You shrug. “I guess. It never made me feel underappreciated, though. Sure, I was irritated at some occasions and disappointed at others, but… Today I feel horrible, Jax.”

“Did you share anything with Byulyi?” he asks, referring to your flatmate and good friend since college.

You shake your head. “She already has a lot on her plate, right now. She got rejected by the photographer she wanted to intern with, so it’s back to freelancing for her.”

“Yeah, that must suck.” Jackson grimaces. Then he looks at you. “You need to take a break, hun. Sit back, today, and have tacos and beer with me. Reset your inner thoughts. Talk to Jin tomorrow. Although, I must say, it’s kinda depressing that you have to actually tell your boyfriend that he’s being a bad boyfriend. Isn’t that kind of shit supposed to be realized on your own?”

You purse your lips. “I guess, yeah. But…don’t say that he’s being a bad boyfriend, Jax. I don’t think he even realizes something is wrong.”

“And that…doesn’t make it worse?” At your raised eyebrows, he concedes with a roll of his eyes. “Fine, fine, in any case — maybe try to hint at it before you dive straight in with the kill? See if he reacts?”

“I don’t know, Jax. What if he doesn’t? He’s really not the best at taking hints and reading signs, or that kind of subtle stuff.”

“Then you can just say your shit. All I’m saying is, give him a chance to figure it out on his own. He’s probably really clueless why you reacted so big on something so small, this morning. If you drop hints, maybe he’ll feel it out.”

You nod, somewhat amazed at how sound Jackson’s advice seems. “How are you doing this, Jax? Being a love guru all of a sudden?”

Jackson scoffs. “I’m just tryna put myself in Seokjin’s shoes. If I was in the situation he’s in, this is what I’d like to happen — be given a window to figure out what’s wrong. You’ve been together a long time, hun. It really shouldn’t be that difficult for him.”

You shrug a shoulder. “I won’t be too sure about that. Why does it even matter if he can or cannot, though?”

Jackson seems to be mulling over something before he drops his chin to his chest. “Because you’re supposed to be partners, hun. If you can tell what’s up with him with a single glance, why can't he? Not being good at taking signs is not a good enough excuse. My gut says that he’d be able to, though. And that knowledge will make you feel infinitely better, trust me. It’ll be reassuring to learn that he really knows and understands you well, won’t it?”

You nod, slowly, but you still have your suspicions. Seokjin has just been the kind of guy whose emotional depth goes to a certain extent and then just — well, stops. There are things that he feels and realizes and sees, and there are things that he doesn’t. It isn’t even something he does, you believe. It’s just how he is. Certain feelings just don’t fall in his orbit. And you’ve never found there to be anything wrong with it when he’s been an immaculately amazing boyfriend and tended to every single one of your needs, always. Well, you have never actually needed emotional consoling, too, so you haven’t had the chance to audition him for that. You keep yourself too busy for all that unnecessary mental pressure. It comes as a surprise, but you have never cried on Seokjin’s shoulder in all these years of your togetherness. You’ve kept your head straight and chin up, even during your college exams. And so has Seokjin, because you’ve never seen him cry, either.

Lately, though, things have been kind of weird. The gradual transformation into your professional lives that began after college, has been drastic in the past few months. Seokjin has been constantly prioritizing his career over you, and you have been understanding about it because you agree with it — to an extent. Seokjin believes it all the way through, though, and you have known for a while that you would hit your limit at some point, and would try to bring him back to yourself. Today morning, it seems, you hit that limit. 

You felt dispensable. 

You hate this feeling.

To be very honest, you know you can get over this. You can give it some time, remind yourself of how much your Jin loves you, believe that he is eventually going to come back to you once he settles, and be understanding about the entire thing. 

You can — but you really don’t want to.

Something tells you that this feeling of getting too comfortable will only fester and take a worse form as time goes by. You can wait it out, sure, and hope you aren’t being a pushover as he works on building his career. You are building your career, too, after all, and at least some of it has been for each other. 

The thing is, your plans with Seokjin are long-term—marriage, kids, white-picket fence, and all that. And you believe that if you are sensing a problem now, you better deal with it now before it has the chance to change its form and affect you both when you are at a more responsible point in your life.

Mind made up, you look up at Jackson, immediately grimacing when he forwards a greasy hand to pick up a taco for you. “I don’t…I don’t like tacos. And may I exchange the beer for scotch?”

“You work at a Mexican restaurant, and you don’t like tacos,” Jackson deadpans.

“They mess up my skincare.”

“Oh, fuck off! Have a spinach smoothie with a drink, why don’t you?”

You purse your lips to hold back your laughter at his ire, your own worries forgotten in the moment as Jackson gets up to get you a glass of scotch and some healthier snacking alternative.

“You're a dead man.”

Jimin stops dead in his tracks, arms frozen in the act of putting a t-shirt on. He blinks at Seokjin with big round eyes. “Hyung?” he mumbles, a picture of unblemished innocence, especially when he covers his toned torso with the oversized t-shirt he was in the process of getting into. “What—what’d I do?”

Someone who doesn’t know better would never believe that this young, innocent, frazzled haired fairy-boy could ever do any wrong. But Seokjin knows better. “You chaotic womanizer,” Seokjin nearly hisses, "you've gotta learn to clean after yourself. Honey found a girl in my bed. A girl—in my bed.”

Jimin had the decency to drop the innocent act. “Oh. Oh.”

Seokjin raises a brow. “Oh? That’s it?”

"Yeah, well, I clarified to her that it was a one time thing when we got to it. She was obviously expecting something more if she didn't leave when I told her to. Disappointed but not surprised." Jimin is frowning when he comes to sit down on the couch next to Seokjin. “Sorry you two had to see that. You clarified to Honey noona that I’d been the occupant of the room, though, right?” 

“I—what?” Seokjin scoffs. “Why would I even need to do that? She knows that already, obviously. She’s been seeing you for over five years, or have you forgotten?”

Jimin squints. “I mean…okay, fair point, I guess. Why’re you so worked up, then? Did something else happen, too? Where’s she, now?” Jimin looks around the living room as if looking for you.

Seokjin sighs. “Well, I couldn't really get much out before she was storming out of the damn house, altogether.”

Jimin blinks. “Storming out? Why? She… um, was she mad?"

Seokjin opens his mouth – and then shuts it. Was she mad, indeed. "I don't know. She looked kinda mad, yes. But maybe she was in a hurry?" 

"Why would she be mad? Did you try to call her? Text her? It's unlike her to react so big on something so small." Jimin bites down on his lip, looking lost in thought. 

Seokjin shakes his head. "She didn't pick up or text back."

“There’s definitely got to be an underlying reason for her being like this. Are you sure you guys haven’t been fighting, hyung?” 

Seokjin sighs. “Yes, Jimin, I’m absolutely certain that there hasn’t been any fighting of any sorts between the two of us before today.” He pauses. “Well, she was slightly irritated that I didn’t check her texts last night, but she knows I go to bed at eleven on days leading up to a shoot, so that one’s on her.”

Jimin looks genuinely concerned, which, in turn, makes Seokjin concerned. Jimin isn't the type to stress over stuff if he can help it. Sure, he cares about the boys and would always be down to do whatever he can for them, but his throwing-caution-to-the-wind way of life causes him to not take most of the things in life seriously.

You’ve been like an older sister to the boys ever since Seokjin started dating you and introduced you to them. They all have their ways of showing their respect and affection to you. Well, maybe not Jungkook because he can’t get over getting unnecessarily intimidated by Seokjin enough to relax around you. 

Jimin, especially, always seems to be affected by any tension in Seokjin’s relationship. Everyone can see how it upsets his entire life when you two are fighting, although he’d never admit to it. He doesn’t need to, because it’s pretty obvious when he becomes a cranky six-year-old who hates the world. 

Right now, he has a guilty frown on his face. "I should've seen to it that Suzette left before I went to shower," he mumbles as if talking to himself. “Shouldn’t have trusted her to leave just because I told her to.” He looks up at Seokjin with troubled eyes. "I'm sorry, hyung."

Seokjin can not believe himself when he shakes his head at Jimin's apology—this little demon causes so much chaos in all their lives that any apology coming from him should be justified and welcome. But this one isn't really on him. "It's not entirely your fault."

Jimin's demeanor changes a bit and the attitude Seokjin is used to witnessing makes an appearance. "Right? That's what I was thinking, too!" Jimin exclaims, some of the concern on his face lifting. "You have to talk to Honey noona and make things right, though, hyung. She’s the only womanly touch in our man cave. We’d all be barbarians without her.” Jimin looks very wary and kind of nervous.

“It’s funny you would crave her ‘womanly’ presence when she’s rushed off because of a woman that you brought home.” Seokjin scrunches his nose. "And I said it isn't entirely on you, because it is partially on you, Park Jimin. You borrowed my room to smoke up in. Why couldn't you take your Suzy back to your own room?"

"Suzette," Jimin corrects under his breath while shaking his head. "Yeah, I should've, but… your room just felt like a better choice during the high," he finishes in a mumble, dragging a hand down his face. “Hyung,” Jimin says with a pout on his lips, “the last time you two fought was two years ago, remember? On your birthday? When Hobi hyung dumped cake in noona’s hair and she had her first shoot for that bigshot magazine, the next day?”

Seokjin nods with a sigh. “She yelled at me for having stupid friends, and I yelled at her for caring more about the shoot that having a good time on my birthday. Yes, I remember.”

“And then she didn’t visit us for a whole week. Please don’t let that happen, again.” Jimin looks up at Seokjin with big, round eyes. “I can’t take that kind of unrest in my life."

Seokjin briefly wonders, if Jimin’s nightly conquests were to see this side of him, would they run in the opposite direction or be more attracted to him? Jimin definitely needs someone in his life that would bring out this side in him and stay to provide him the emotional comfort he requires when he gets like this. 

“I will try not to, Jiminie, but…” Seokjin shuts his eyes. “I seriously do not understand her actions from the morning,” he finishes in a mumble.

“Maybe she’s—maybe she’s worried about something else? Some other aspect of her life?” Jimin suggests with wide eyes. “And she’s just projecting onto you.”

“As sound as the explanation is, I am literally involved in ninety percent of the aspects in her life,” Seokjin says with a twist to his lips. “I would know if something was wrong anywhere.”

“That’s cocky of you to say,” Jimin snarkily comments with narrowed eyes. At Seokjin’s raised eyebrows, he amends, “That’s cocky of you to say, hyung-nim.”

Seokjin scoffs, but then he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s true. We work at the same restaurant, we’re scouted by the same agency. Even her agent is best friends with mine—she gossips a ton about how Honey passes up so many opportunities and pisses her agent off. Her friends are, well—” Seokjin stops short when it hits him. “Wang. Wang could know something!”

Jimin is looking at him skeptically when Seokjin meets the younger’s eyes. “I just think you should have a simple talk with noona first before digging around.”

That is sensible advice. Seokjin nods as he pulls his phone out.

“Just find out what’s been troubling her, hyung. You two are rational people, I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Jimin pauses to scratch the back of his head. “Just please don’t let this be another fight like that one?”

“Don’t worry,” Seokjin finally says with a pat on Jimin’s shoulder as he finishes sending off another text to you, “this one is nothing like that fight.”

Turns out, this fight really is not like that one. Or any other fights Seokjin has ever had with you, in fact, because you’re giving him the silent treatment. 

You’ve never given him the silent treatment. 

Not even when you were students and didn’t have a load of time on your hands and used to waste precious sleep hours arguing over stupid shit that would probably resolve itself if you just slept on it and looked back at it with a fresh state of mind. Not even then did you forego talking.

Needless to say, Seokjin is distressed.

You drive to the house to pick him up at your usual time, the next morning, after not having responded to any of his calls or texts for the entire day. Seokjin is aghast as he gets into the car.

“Honey! What is going on? Why didn’t you—where have you been?”

You simply start the engine and take off. “Busy,” you murmur after a while.

Soekjin’s head is close to exploding. “Busy? Doing what?”

Your face remains stoic as you weave through the morning traffic. Seokjin looks at you. You’re dressed up in your waitressing outfit that consists of a shirt, skirt and tights, and being who you are, Seokjin can proudly say that you would stand out to be the most well dressed server in the field. You’re always pristine and tidy — no accidents happen to you at the job ever. No spillage of drinks or ketchups, no soiled hands being wiped down on your skirt. Nothing even ruins your manicure. 

It is something that Seokjin has always tried to keep up with, this cleanliness streak of yours. Because he has always assumed you would expect it out of him, too. You were attracted to the cover model version of him, after all. It is quite natural that you would have those kinds of expectations. And Seokjin has always been more than happy to deliver. It has become a part of him, in fact. He doesn't even chew with his mouth open even when he's among the boys, anymore.

It has, somewhat, made him practical and less emotional in life, too, but he doesn't really think of it as a bad thing. You have always been practical in life – the most ambitious girl he has ever met, someone that has always prioritized her career and goals over everything else. Seokjin has admired that since college, and has tried to show you that he has similar priorities even if he has had to work on thinking from his mind more than his heart.

But when you are already by his side, what does he even need his heart for, anymore, when it's already yours?

Now, looking at you sitting with a morose expression on your face as you give him the cold shoulder, Seokjin is just as much in love with you as he was when he first met you.

“Stuff,” you say with a shrug, after some extended silence. “You should know about that, right? Your schedule’s always busier than mine and I never complain.”

Your sharp words have him reeling. Whatever do you even mean by that? “Uhm, okay. Fair enough. But… did you really not have the time to respond to a single text?”

“It gets impossible sometimes, Jin, you know how it is.”

Seokjin frowns. He does know that, but he doesn’t feel okay. Something is very off with you. It is as if you’re saying something else and expecting him to discern a different meaning out of it. 

He doesn’t understand why, though. You, of all people, should know how terrible he is at decoding signs.

He sighs.

Seokjin, after his conversation with Jimin yesterday, had decided to ask you about the morning’s incident, head on, whenever you called him back. But you didn’t, and this is the first opportunity he’s had to talk to you, so he decides to bring it up, now. “What—what happened yesterday morning, babe? You got really mad and stormed off, and… I mean, you’ve got to know the girl had been Jimin’s companion for the night, right? You know him, how he is!”

You say nothing, hands tightening a bit on the steering wheel. Seokjin looks down at his own hands.

“You know I was only surprised at your words because we really do not have the time to be discussing silly things." He shuts his heart down when it tries to tell him to go soft. He knows it isn't something you would appreciate. "After five years, you know what I’m capable of right? You can never start getting ideas, because that would be insane and stupid. I’m already so supremely occupied as it is between two jobs, when would I even have the time to cheat, right?” he jokes, snorting to himself.

You’re still quiet, but your tongue comes out to moisten your lips. It is a nervous tick of yours which Seokjin recognizes very well, because with your skincare and scheduled regular application of lip balms, your lips never need the extra moisture.

He frowns. Was he too straightforward? But this is exactly how you communicate with him! “Hey, is everything okay, babe?”

You exhale, noisily. “Everything’s fine, Jin,” you finally say with a roll of your eyes. “And you’re right. I know you wouldn’t cheat. You don’t have the time to chat me up, how are you gonna pick someone new to impress, huh?” 

Your snort sounds lacking in humor, but Seokjin still gives a couple of stilted chuckles. Even so, he's still somewhat relieved. “Right. Just so we’re certain, that was a joke, right? I mean, it would be really ridiculous of you to think that I would—”

“Yes, Jin!” you cut him off with a deep frown. “If I wanted to talk to you about something, or accuse you, or confront you — I’d do that without you having to prompt me. Stop obsessing over yesterday and stop trying to explain yourself. I know it was Jimin’s doing.”

Seokjin feels immensely relaxed at the conviction with which you say the last sentence, certainly, but something is still off. “Why were you ignoring me, then?”

“I just didn’t have anything to say to you.” You stop at a red light, the last one before you reach the restaurant, and turn to look at Seokjin with really vacant eyes. He doesn’t like your stare one bit. “We’ve been together five years, babe. If neither of us have got anything of significance to say, I’d rather not text too much, if that’s okay with you? I’ve got a busy schedule to work around, too, you know?”

Seokjin wants to remind you that both of you had something of significance to say after you left his place in anger, but chooses to just roll with whatever you’re playing at. Maybe he's thinking too much. He nods. “Sounds alright to me.”

“Great,” you breathe out, somehow looking disappointed along with the preexisting sorrowful expression you had on your face.

You really do not have a concrete explanation for why you acted the way you did with Seokjin, this morning. 

You were supposed to hint at being mad, not blatantly try to give him a taste of his own medicine. It could turn out to be a good thing if he eventually starts to miss you and reaches out, sure, but playing mind games never feels right to you. But when he started to joke about not having time to cheat, and something just turned off in you. He really could’ve seriously reassured you of his love. That would’ve been actually comforting. But no. He chose to joke about that, too. You didn’t feel like putting in all that energy anymore, after that.

Now, you sit down in the break room to check your phone during your ten minutes’ rest break. A text message floats at the top of your notifications.

Jax 🚽 Hey How’d it go?

With an exhale, you decide to call him back. Your fingers are too tired to type, and Jackson is sure to launch off into a rampage of texts the moment you tell him you’ve tried to turn the tables on Seokjin.

Seokjin is in the kitchen, his usual rest break not being for another hour, so you don’t have to worry about him walking in.

“Hey!” Jackson jovially greets you as soon as he picks the phone. “Did you get my text?”

“I did, yes,” you respond in a calm voice. “I’ve been looping milkshake mugs through my fingers since eight am, they needed some rest, so I decided to call.”

“Yeah, no, it’s cool. I was in a really boring class, anyway. So. How'd it go?"

You pull in your lip between your teeth. "I… I kinda ended up telling him I am a busy person too and that we shouldn’t text that much."

You hear silence instead of the outburst you'd expected. 

"Jax?"

"Are you actually gonna try to play a mind game with the dumbest human being you know on earth?" Jackson so very eloquently asks, his interpretation making you pinch the bridge of your nose. “He’s never even gonna figure it out!”

“I know how it sounds, okay?” You exhale. “I honestly don’t know what came over me.”

“Okay, alright, one thing at a time. So, no coddling?"

"Not a single soft word. Just more expectations of me understanding, and claiming that anything but that would be stupid of me. He acts like I'm supposed to know everything about him and everyone in his group of friends," you mutter in irritation. “As if those dumbasses know the first thing about themselves.”

You realize you're being a bit harsh, because his friends – basically your younger brothers, at this point – are a bunch of clueless idiots that love, adore and respect you. You shouldn't be badmouthing them, Seokjin’s growing callousness towards you isn't their doing. It's his own. 

You sigh. You really miss how things used to be when you were in college.

“Uh, I think we need to rewind a bit. What happened? What triggered this?”

It makes you smile a little when Jackson asks that. At least your best knows you’re not wholly clinically insane. “Well… I drove him to work. He…" your brows lower at the recollection, "he was the first to bring up yesterday morning. And yet again, he gave me the same you've got to know this and that crap, and then he tried to assure me in the dumbest possible way. Do you know what he said, Jax, do you?”

“Um, do I wanna know?”

“He said, and I quote, he doesn’t have the time to cheat. Jackson Wang, are you hearing this? He really straight up said he was too busy to cheat on me and so I should rest assured! Who says that?!”

“He must’ve meant it as a joke—”

“Yeah, he said that, too, and then very immaculately added that it’d be ridiculous of me to think otherwise. I have lost count of how many times the words ridiculous and stupid came up.”

“Goddammit.”

“Goddammit is right,” you mumble, morosely resting your head on your palm.

“What did he say, by the way? When you told him to text less?”

You give a wry chuckle. "Well, he said it sounded alright to him."

"Son of a bitch. You – you two are messed up, man. Messed up bad. Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't? You don't wanna text less because you're busy, you want him to dote on you because you miss him!" Jackson sounds beyond frustrated. "And it doesn't fucking sound alright to him! It sounds scary, it sounds confusing, it sounds like something you would never say to him!" He groans. "But none of you would say that shit to each other! You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess."

You reel from the onslaught of his harsh words, eyes widened and breath stuttering. Jackson isn't usually the type to pay so much attention to your relationship problems. But this time, you guess, he has garnered the depth of your unhappiness and thus has gotten so involved.

You realize he is right. Nothing good can come out of any turned tables, because Seokjin is, anyways, not even going to be able to work out the problem by himself. He may even go around talking to his friends about how you were being cold with him and not giving him any time, and still not realize he has been doing the same to you. He is thick like that. 

When his friends tell you tales of his compassion, you're unable to relate. You've never seen that side of him. He has probably grown up from that emotionally overwhelmed high school graduate who had made friends on a whim, the night of his graduation.

You certainly don't appreciate the emotional abstinence, though, and would very much rather prefer if he would open up a bit more. It would help you be more open with him, without fearing him calling you "stupid" in response.

But it’s still alright, you accept him with that thick brain of his, because he’s still only ever going to be the only one for you.

"How are you two gonna get around to having a proper chat if you just keep building more walls between you both?" Jackson asks after the long pause from your end, this time softer. “I’m sorry, babe, I was wrong. Giving him signs and making him realize shit won’t work. It was stupid of me to suggest that. It’s probably why you ended up being so caustic with him.

“No, no, it was all me, Jax. I could’ve chosen to not listen to you, but my ego got in the way, I guess. It’s not exactly easy, telling your boyfriend you’re feeling neglected. I mean, what if he laughs in my face and tells me I’m being paranoid? What if he thinks I have no regard for his career — or mine — because my priorities don’t align with his?” You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as your insecurities attack you.

“Hey, no. None of that is gonna happen if you really share with him what you’ve been feeling. No hints, no sarcasm, you’re gonna have to tell him point blank. Allow yourself to be raw. He’s the love of your life. You don’t have to protect yourself from him, right?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I know. You’re absolutely right, Jax. But I really have no idea how to even approach him, at this point. He’s either too busy with shoots, or with the guys, or some meeting. I cannot do this on call, because that always leads to misunderstandings.” You bite down on your lower lip, contemplating. “But I’ll figure something out.”

"Yes, you will. You always do. So, that’s good then. In the meanwhile, can you at least clean up this latest pile of poop? The talking less thingy is gonna make you two more distant, hun."

You scrunch your nose at his metaphor, but then your shoulders slump. "I don't know, Jackson. The way he so impassively agreed to it would make me sound really stupid if I take it back. And given what he keeps saying, he really doesn’t want me to sound stupid."

Jackson gives a snort at that. “Hah, funny. But listen. At the end of the day, he’s your boyfriend. You're gonna have to really decide if you're trying to get your boyfriend to give you more love, or if you're fighting a battle of egos and would like to bend him to you."

You bite your lip. “You make me sound manipulative.”

“You yourself confessed you let your ego come into this, one time. Don’t let that happen again. I’m trying to make you realize that complicated problems can have simple solutions, too. If only you’d communicate. Just talk to him soon, please, and make him understand why you’re hurt. Don’t carry on with this stupid cold war, okay? You gotta figure out exactly what you want, first.”

“You know what I want, Jax. You’re literally the only person that does, actually,” you remind him with a sigh.

“Oh, he is, isn’t he?”

You freeze, eyes bulging at the familiar voice. “I’ll… I’ll call you back,” you mumble before you disconnect the call and turn to look over your shoulder at Seokjin’s unreadable face. He stands with his arms crossed, still in his uniform but without the apron. “Jin… what—uh…”

“What am I doing here?” he scoffs, lips curling in distaste as he stares you down. “Well, I was going to the loo when I saw you sitting here. You looked upset, so I thought I’d check in on you on my way back.” He clicks his tongue, a dry chuckle tumbling out. “But apparently, you’ve got other people doing it for you, already.”

You wince, shutting your eyes. The one time he was finally going to give you some much needed attention — you sent a bad message his way. 

“So. Good to know there actually is someone who knows what you want. Would’ve been easier if it were me, though, given how I stand to be the one that is to deliver.” Seokjin sounds pissed off, and despite your irritation, you really want to make him understand.

You rub at your forehead. “Stop talking like that, Jin, it was just Jackson.”

“Wang?” He seems to seethe more, for some reason. “Of course, it’s fucking Wang!”

You frown, standing up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Seokjin looks at you incredulously. “You—do you not see how this looks? You have problems with me, Honey, but you choose to discuss them with him? Who’s he, your therapist?”

“He’s my best friend, Jin, someone I trust,” you grit out.

Seokjin seems to take it the wrong way, his agitated expressions slowly fading into a blank stare. “Oh. You trust him, as opposed to…” He trails off with a shrug, but the implication is as obvious as it can be.

“Jin—”

He raises a hand up, palm facing you as he looks away. “If you need some time apart, you should tell me in plain words. You know I’m not good at reading signs.”

Seokjin gives you a blank stare before turning around to leave the area. You stand rooted to your place, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

Some time apart? Has he lost his mind? 

He really is a huge freaking idiot who cannot pause to think what implications his words have. He seriously doesn’t recognize what all his “don’t be ridiculous/overdramatic/stupid” speeches do to you. You realize you should really make him understand. This has gone on for way too long.

But maybe you should take some time to yourself to cool off before that. You don’t want to say the wrong thing in your rage and complicate things further.

You sigh to yourself as you slump back into the bench you were sat on before.

You’d set out to tell your boyfriend you were feeling neglected, but you ended up making him think you want to be apart. How the heck did you get here?

You belatedly recall Jackson's words.

Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't?

You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess.

Your usually dumbheaded best friend was right on this one, you realize. You should’ve just talked like a normal human being instead of letting Seokjin’s words get to you and get pissy in retaliation.

You give a weary sigh. 

Seokjin is grateful for the sudden busyness he’s got on his schedule, or he would explode from all the pent up frustration you have been causing him. 

He realized he wasn’t as upset with you as he was irritated, right after he walked away from you on Monday. He dropped you a text with some excuse of needing to stay back so that he wasn’t forced to ride with you in the car again, and later took the bus home. 

You had told Jackson Wang about what was troubling you, but not him. It made Seokjin feel upset, incompetent and more than a little insecure. Seokjin absolutely hates feeling insecure. Especially about you. You’re the singular most precious entity in his life — not that you are an entity, per se — and anything that seeks to threaten your position in his life or his position in yours, makes him lose his shit.

So it was understandable that he jumped to unfairly disproportionate magnitudes of conclusions that day. When he thought about it, later, he could easily tell that you are just mad at him and not actually contemplating leaving him, not even for a little while. Not that he’d just sit back and have you do that so easily.

Seokjin also hates overthinking, but that is all he did for the entirety of his Monday. 

Monday, though, was the last time he had time to overthink. Life got exponentially busier after that.

Immediately after his shoot on Tuesday, he received his agent’s call and was informed of his jam packed schedule for the remainder of the week. He was pulled into two separate magazine ad shoots on Wednesday, a perfume ad film drank up all of his Thursday, and today, a hair product ad film needed him to report to a sunrise point in the city at the ass-crack of dawn. The sky was still dark when he rode across the city with his agent at nearly four in the morning. 

And now, the afternoon sun beats down on his car as he drives back alone, his agent staying back to tend to some business. Stopping at a red light, he reaches for his spinach smoothie with one hand and his phone with the other. Ugh, he feels beyond tired.

Blearily, he looks down at the device around a yawn, fingers habitually reaching for your chat.

He took a week off from the restaurant and dropped you a text, late Tuesday evening, informing you of the same.

Honey✨❤👸 Hm, kay. Good luck x

Unsurprisingly, that stands to be your last message in his inbox. It’s been four days.

Sighing, he swipes a hand down his tired face and exits out of the message app. He went to bed at nine o’clock, last night, and owing to the way he has trained his body to sleep on command, he did manage to get a sleep of nearly six hours, too. But it was fitful and plagued with nightmares featuring you. 

Knowing he doesn't have to be at the restaurant until Monday and that his next gig isn’t until Wednesday, he cannot wait to get back home and drink his weight in alcohol before he sleeps his way through the weekend.

Just as he has moved past the intersection, his phone rings. 

Honey✨❤👸 calling...

He nearly spits the smoothie he just sipped at.

Coughing, he roughly jostles the plastic cup back in the holder and pulls up to a side of the road to pick up the call. “Hey,” he breathes into the phone, embarrassed at his desperation.

“Jin. Um, hi.” You sound awkward, as if you…have been compelled to call him due to some reason.

He is immediately worried. “Honey? Is everything okay, do you need something?”

He hates himself for being so concerned when you have been neglecting him for so many days – yet again, despite your spat at the restaurant – instead of finally talking to him about what’s bothering you, but he can’t help it. At the end of the day, you are the love of his life. 

“Yes, yes, I’m okay. It’s just, um. Can you pick me up from the restaurant?” you sound nervous.

But, Seokjin realizes, I was right. You do need something. He clears his throat. “Uh, okay, I guess,” he agrees before stopping short when he realizes the time. “Wait, it’s barely even two. Why are you leaving?” he asks, confused and a little concerned. You work your shift till five every day and till eight on weekends.

“Tomorrow is Halloween, Jin. We’re closing for the weekend, remember?”

Seokjin’s mouth falls open on a gasp. He really had forgotten. “Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there in five, wait up.”

He swerves the car into the lane and takes off in the direction of the restaurant. 

He laughs at himself. He has been so caught up in work that he literally forgot Halloween. He wonders if this is what actual adulting is.

He is stopping before the restaurant within three minutes of your phone call, eyes immediately spotting your delicate figure standing on the sidewalk with your hands crossed against your chest.

You step down from the curb when you spot his car, and walk towards him. He watches your elegant legs as they beautifully fall in a straight line. Even when exiting your job as a waitress, you’re every bit the elegant model he met in college. Your hips sway tantalizingly, and something akin to longing swirls in his chest.

He composes himself quickly when you cross the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You awkwardly clear your throat as Seokjin busies himself with starting the vehicle, unsure if he should initiate conversation.

“Um, sorry about this. You were probably getting ready for shoot,” you finally say. “Byulyi dropped me off today. She wasn’t picking her phone up. I was trying to get a cab for half an hour. And the bus stop’s really far—”

“Hey, stop. It’s okay. You should’ve called me sooner.” Seokjin catches your apprehensive gaze on his oversized hoodie when he chances a glance at you. He sighs. “I was returning home from shoot, actually.”

He feels you stiffen, and he feels even more mentally drained at this. You used to be updated with his schedule to the tee — just short of having an actual copy of the calendar his agent carries on him. And the same goes for him with your schedule. This feels so wrong.

You are quiet for a while, your hands fidgeting in his peripheral vision.

“How—how was it?” you finally say, voice coming out like a croak.

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “The usual. Blinding, tiring, exhaustive. I did okay, I guess.”

He feels your gaze snap up to drill holes into his skull. Your eyes are wide when he checks. “Okay? Since when do you do anything less than amazing at shoots, babe?”

He feels endeared at your casual use of a pet name. “I had to get up at three in the morning and go through a skincare routine. Then drive across the entire city to get to the location, because they wanted to capture actual sunrise. I was more tired than excited by the time they rolled cameras, so.” He shrugs. “Can’t really say I gave my best today.”

You nod at his admission. 

Seokjin almost jumps when his phone rings, again.

Jiminie calling...

He feels you shift in your seat. His mouth sours at the reminder of that Sue girl that started off this entire tussle between you and him. Fucking Jimin and his conquests. What happened to the shy and more than a little glum looking freshman he let into his living space, three years ago?

Your hand suddenly reaches forth to accept the call, putting it on loudspeaker, immediately. Seokjin gapes at you, momentarily looking away from the road. 

“Uh…hyung?” Jimin’s confused voice echoes in the car. 

Seokjin snaps out of his daze when you gesture towards the device. “Wh—Jimin, hi, what’s — what’s up?” he stumbles his way through a haphazard greeting.

“Hyung, I needed a favor. Are you on your way back from the shoot, right now?” Jimin asks, and Seokjin sees you freeze in your seat.

He feels a perverse sense of satisfaction. Yes, take that! Park Jmin knows of my schedule better than you do! This is what you get for ghosting me! “I was, yeah. What is it?”

“Oh, great! I kinda need your help, hyung. My tire gave out. Could you pick me up from the Kappa hall?”

Seokjin scowls. “Yah! Who am I, your butler? Hop on a damn bus!”

He notices you pursing your lips, no doubt finding his agitation humorous — you always do. 

“Hyu~ng,” Jimin whines. “I would take the bus, but the next one leaves in forty-five minutes and I need to be back within an hour!”

“What? Why?”

“I started on my sem project really late, hyung, and now I gotta spend any time I can spare at the rehearsal hall. I’m meeting a choreographer here in an hour. Please help me out!” Jimin is still whining, and maybe his reasoning is kind of alright, but—

Seokjin is tired to his bones. He literally cannot drive all the way down to your apartment and then drive back to the university campus to pick Jimin up.

He sighs, wearily. “Jimin… I’m really tired.” 

“And I’m really desperate, hyung! Dancing is tough! And the subject I've chosen, tougher. I haven't done ballet since first semester, Freshman year! I have to work my butt off and be done in under two months."

Seokjin exhales, feeling beyond exhausted. But then your finger is tapping on the screen and the call has been muted. Seokjin’s surprised eyes fly up to meet yours. You look conflicted, biting down on your lower lip as you shake your head with a frown.

“You should go home and rest, Jin. Leave the car with me, I’ll pick him up.”

“Hyung? Say something?”

Seokjin blinks. “You…”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll pick him up, yeah. He’ll drop me off and drive back to your place.”

“Hyung?! Did you put me on mute, or what? I can't hear a thing!”

“Tell him you’ll be there in ten!” you say, unmuting the call.

“I’m in the car, the network must have glitched. I’ll, uh… be there in ten?” Seokjin nervously finishes off, looking at you in question. You give him a nod, blinking slowly. “Wait up, okay?”

“Oh my God, thank you so much, hyung!” Jimin practically squeals through the phone. “I’ll be in the ice cream shop across the building. I love you, hyung-nim!”

Seokjin rolls his eyes and disconnects the call. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes as he takes a right, now moving in the direction of his apartment instead of yours. “You sure about this? Jimin, um, knows. About our…” Seokjin doesn’t want to call it the f-word, because he would like to believe that you two aren’t actually fighting. “You being upset, I mean,” he settles for the easier alternative. “He might ask questions.”

You give a small huff of wry laugh. “I can handle it, Seokjin. I’ve known Jimin for almost three years now.”

Seokjin doesn’t like it when you address him by his full name. And so, his lips remain pursed for the remainder of the ride, only parting to tell you to “drive safe and text me when you finally get home,” and then he walks inside his apartment without looking back.

He hears his car come to life and then speed away. He shuts his eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter. Gathering his emotional as well as physical bearings, he opens the refrigerator to rummage through some leftovers to munch on while he breaks out a six pack of Budweiser. 

Before his fried rice has even reheated, Seokjin groans at the sight of an all too jovial Hoseok entering the kitchen with a glint in his eyes. “No, Hobi. Not now.”

“What? I didn’t say a word, hyung!”

Seokjin winces, shutting his eyes just as the microwave beeps. “I don’t have enough energy to deal with your general aura, right now,” he mumbles, extracting the piping hot glass bowl. He leans down to open one of the compartments beneath the kitchen table to get to the beer that he’s been dreaming of for nearly an hour, now. “I’m dead on my feet and—woah!” Seokjin gasps, cutting himself off.

Hoseok hops into the kitchen, coming around to stand behind Seokjin. “So you found ’em,” he says around a chuckle.

“Found ’em? This is you?” Seokjin whips his head around to glare at Hoseok up from his crouch. “Why is my liquor closet resembling a liquor shop, Hobi? Why do we have all this—” he turns around to read the labels, cursing under his breath. “Why do we have,” he pauses to count, “five bottles of Tequila and eight bottles of Vodka?”

Hoseok frowns in concern. “Eight? There should be ten, hyung, check again.”

Seokjin actually gasps, this time. “What the hell, Jung Hoseok? Explain yourself before I start throwing hands!”

Hoseok smacks a palm against his forehead, taking Seokjin by surprise, yet again. “Tonight’s the Halloween party, hyung! Did you actually forget?”

Seokjin screws his eyes shut, letting his head roll back with a frustrated whine. “No~o, don’t tell me it's tonight. Halloween’s tomorrow, right? Why is the party tonight?”

“Yes, hyung, Halloween in tomorrow, which is why it would be stupid to hold the party when Halloween is ending.”

Seokjin finds the logic to be very severely flawed, but his energy is draining out fast and he cannot keep up with this quarrel. There’s no point, anyway. He’s known about this party for nearly a month. And Hoseok isn’t going to postpone a whole party just because Seokjin is tired.

“You look tired, hyung. You should rest. Recharge yourself before the party, okay? There’s plenty of time.” Hoseok pats Seokjin on the shoulder with a kind smile.

“I’m not even in the mood to party, Hobi,” Seokjin mutters, reaching behind all the glass bottles to extract his pack of cans. 

Hoseok scowls at Seokjin. “Because you’re upset about your fight, I realize that. All the more reason to party, hyung! Take your mind off it for some time, why don’t you? You don’t even have to dress up, come as yourself.”

“I’d rather just drink myself to sleep and not wake up for the next twenty four hours.”

Hoseok blocks his path as Seokjin moves to exit the kitchen. “Is Honey coming?”

Seokjin sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, Hobi. Did you invite her?”

“No, hyung, because you said you would.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue. He completely forgot. “Then she isn’t coming.”

Without listening to his protests, Seokjin trudges upstairs with his food and beer. He will be forced to come down for at least a couple shots, he is certain, so he better make as much of the time he has on his hands as he can.

These days, it seems to be becoming a pattern for you to do things without really understanding why you do them. 

You nibble at your bottom lip as you recall how gaunt and pale Seokjin had looked when you sat in the car. You had been really self-centered as it is, not really keeping in touch with him for four days, and then reaching out when you needed help. You couldn’t bear to think, on top of everything, that he had driven you home despite his extreme exhaustion while you sat back selfishly and let him drive around the city to pick Jimin up when he looked like a ghost.

You shake your head at yourself as Jimin jogs down the road to enter the car, ten seconds after you texted him. 

His gaze is slightly hesitant when he meets your eyes, even though his smile is nothing but genuine. “Hello, noona. How come you are…” he trails off, gesturing around the two of you.

You start the car, shrugging one shoulder. “Seokjin came to pick me up. Now you’re gonna drop me off.”

Jimin gives you a huge smile, before his eyebrows suddenly lower. You look away, veering onto the road. “Wait. Were you in the car with him when I called?”

You chuckle. “Yes.”

“Oh,” Jimin mumbles around a small laugh.

You hum to yourself as you drive, distracting yourself from the thoughts that keep encircling your head. Seokjin is your boyfriend, no matter how mad you might be at him — you love him and care about him. Which is why you have tried to help him out. Not to mention, you felt slightly guilty, as it is, about calling him to pick you up. Why is your gesture of goodwill bothering you, then?

This is what you do for people you care about. Seokjin would do the same.

Your train of thoughts suddenly comes to a screeching halt.

Would he? Would he, really?

“You okay, noona?”

You jolt back from your thoughts, wide eyes turning to look at Jimin. “Wha—yes, yeah, I'm fine.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’re gripping the wheel really hard.”

You look at your tightly clenched fists, and immediately ease them. “Oh, uh. Sorry. A lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Understandably,” Jimin mutters, looking out of the side window when you turn to look at him.

You purse your lips and press down on the accelerator. 

A few beats of silence pass between you two before Jimin clears his throat. “Can I say something?” he asks you in a soft voice, looking nothing like the seductive persona he puts forth to get ladies falling in his bed. 

You exhale. “Sure.”

“You, um. You are not just hyung’s girlfriend, you know?” he says slowly.

You scoff. “Of course, I do. I am also the very best server my restaurant has ever seen and the best struggling model you’ll ever meet, on the side.”

Jimin snorts, before giggling with his eyes closed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You do. But you do not want to face it. You want to be selfish, for once. You do absolutely know that you have been ignoring all the boys in your anger at Seokjin, but you absolutely do not wish to do anything about it. Not until you’ve resolved this tense air between you and Seokjin.

“You are also a part of our little family,” Jimin quietly finishes.

You suck your lips in at that. The word “family'' really gets to you. 

He’s right, isn’t he? 

All eight of you — well, nine, now, with the addition of Taehyung’s girlfriend — have been a family since the day you met these guys.

You smile as the memories start to filter in.

You had had a giant crush on Seokjin since the very first time you saw him in your Freshman year. Well, having a crush on the guy wasn’t that unheard of given how handsome he was. It also helped matters that he modelled for the cover page of your university’s journal within his first month in college. What surprised you was his reciprocated interest when you both finally got to know each other, thanks to Byulyi. Your current roommate was majoring in photography back then, and somehow roped the two of you into modelling for her portfolio. Seokjin asked you out during the sixth month of your Freshman year.

You recall being introduced to Yoongi in your Sophomore year, when he entered your college as a Music major. You found him laid back, calm but really sassy, and fun to be around. The three of you often hung out together, and you took immense pleasure in singling Seokjin out with the two of your sarcastic back and forths.

In your senior year, Hoseok transferred to your college as a Sophomore, and Taehyung and Jimin entered as Freshmen. 

Hoseok was literally the most lively person you’d ever met in your life. There wasn’t a single moment of boredom next to him. He was easily given the responsibility of planning all your outings and parties, henceforth — a position he still holds with full competence.

Taehyung was usually found to be lost in his head more often than not in his initial college days. He was confused about his major for two entire semesters. With inputs from the group, when he eventually picked Art, he eased into college life. After that, he came out to be one of the weirdest and unwittingly funny guys in the group. You still don’t get how he was the first amongst all the boys to find him a girl.

Jimin was a really quiet and reserved individual, at first. He very rarely interacted with you all, choosing to stay holed up in his dorm room, instead, that Taehyung had forced him to share with him. You suspected he was recovering from a recent heartbreak. It became evident when he started dating someone within a week of getting into college, only to confess it was a rebound when he got dumped. The whoring around that began after the whole debacle is yet to cease, though. Obviously. 

Hoseok comes from a really well-off family, and had brought along with him the four-bedroom apartment he currently resides in with Yoongi, Jimin and your boyfriend. His uncle gave it away to him, rent-free of course, and he proposed to share it with the rest of the guys. Seokjin and Yoongi were immediately on board, more than eager to leave the chaotic dorm life behind. Taehyung, contrarily, decided he wanted to get the whole college experience and refused to quit the dorms. Jimin, then, left the dorm he shared with Taehyung to move in with the elders.

You met Jungkook immediately after your graduation on the boy’s eighteenth birthday. He instantly struck you as a smart kid, really good at singing as well as art. Yoongi disclosed he wanted to be a music major in your college, and you tried to encourage Jungkook about it, but the guy could hardly even look at you. It was cute but also hilarious how much he was scared of Seokjin, and by principle, you.

You believe that is still true. Now that you think about it, you're pretty sure you haven’t seen Jungkook ever actually relax around the two of you.

“Noona?”

You blink, coming back to the present as Jimin calls out to you. You take a deep breath, the memories hitting you with tender emotions. All these people are really precious to you, aren’t they? The bunch of you really are a family, aren’t you?

A sad smile swims up to your face. You miss the boys.

When he calls again, you turn to look at Jimin, questioningly. 

“Please don’t be mad at hyung,” he slowly says, looking down at his lap. In this moment, he looks quite unlike the Jimin you are used to and reminds you of, instead, the one you’d first met. “He might lack tact, sometimes, but he really loves you a lot. You’re his whole world. Whatever it is that you are angry about, you should tell him about it. I don’t think he would be able to figure it out by himself.”

This, you agree with. “I’ll try, Jiminie.”

“We all miss you. Especially Hobi hyung and I,” he says with a lopsided excuse of a smile. 

You resist the urge to fluff his hair. Jimin and Hoseok have been like the younger brothers you never had. You miss them, too. 

He suddenly chuckles. "And Yoongi hyung hides it well, but I think he's the one that misses you the most. No one helps him roast Jin hyung quite like you do."

You roll your eyes. "Of course not. It's a waste for Yoongi to even try to find a better partner at roasting Jin."

You spot your apartment building and pull up to it. 

“I’ll try to talk to Jin as soon as I can, Jimin, I promise. Don't worry so much about it,” you say as you step out, patting the boy once on his head. "I miss you all, too."

You give a small wave and faint smile to him as he drives away.

tagging: @shrimpmsg​

note: so! a lil bit of backstory and the infamous halloween party - how we feelin’ so far? the next part is ~12k words, too, and i’ll post it next wednesday, wait around~ 😘💕

SECOND PART OUT NOW: read here!

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