#you acknowledge that I know so much EXCEPT when Me being knowledgeable on a subject would mean that I'd be able to recognize when My health

[equalperson]

sometimes I believe that My tendency to avoid telling My family when I'm having health issues is just the result of avoidant cognitive distortions, but then I actually do it, get told that it's "normal" and/or a lifestyle issue, and realize the real cognitive distortion was expecting help at all -_-

[mochatsin]

WHEN THEY FEEL THEIR SINS ON MC

You’re a human, a vessel of various emotions and feelings. You’re far different from the brother’s who’s more affected by their own respective sins that dominate their emotions and personality. But being the avatars of their own sins, that means they can sense it on other demons and humans. You're no exception.

this is just a silly little thing stuck in my head. so just imagine if gluttony demons can feel other people's hunger or if a wrath demon can feel other's anger. enjoy !!

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Lucifer

As much as you try to hide it, Lucifer knows very well when he can feel the pride from you. At first it irritated him, especially when pride is imminent whenever you successfully forge a pact with his brothers. He saw that sense of pride as a threat to his loved ones when he had no clue why you needed to forge pacts. 

But when he gets to know you and your intentions better, he knows that this kind of pride comes from a good place like trying to fix his family. Afterall he can’t blame you for feeling that way when you’re able to bring the seven rulers to their knees. He’s thankful you never abused this power though or he would regret his decision of making a pact with you. 

Whenever you get a good grade in class, cast a powerful spell all on your own, or do a simple task any demon would see as small and easy, he feels how proud and happy you are when you accomplish anything that he could do with a single snap.

He has to remember that you’re a human, and doing what demons can normally do is something you’re allowed to take pride in. 

Feeling pride means he can also tell if it gets damaged. There was a time you were excited to show one of the brothers this spell you worked hard in practicing, but when Mammon said “Eh? That’s such a basic level though.” He didn’t mean to sound insensitive, but words slipped and Lucifer could tell you were hurt deeply. 

Lucifer immediately intervenes and scolds his brothers who undermine your efforts. “They’re a human who had little to no knowledge about magic until coming here to Devildom. Don’t speak to them that way or else.”

He would then turn to you with a gentle look in his eyes “MC, trust me when I say I was very impressed. I know you will become a powerful sorcerer. My brothers could use you as a role model to work harder themselves.” And you do become great with magic… really fast that it’s kind of scary.

When you show him a test you did well in, you were nervous at first since you know that Lucifer probably had perfect marks in it. Though he looks at you with a smile before congratulating you. He even offered to take you out for a treat as a reward.

He adores feeling the pride grow whenever he, the most powerful of the seven rulers, would compliment you and your hard work. He makes an effort to acknowledge you afterwards. Whether it’s pitching a good idea or doing well in a subject you struggled in. 

Absolutely loves knowing that you take pride when you see the brothers are getting along well. Lucifer knows that things have been less chaotic now that he has you by his side as war-level arguments are not as frequent these days. He knows things wouldn’t be like this without you around and he likes the influence you have on his brothers. You deserve to be proud of that.

Mammon

He is the embodiment of Greed and no one can ever compare to him, not when his sin has completely taken over him and his actions as everything he wants to do involves around the concept of getting rich regardless of the method. 

He was willing to bribe, hag, and steal if it meant he got his hands on what he wanted. It’s how his Greed works and he can’t control it.

The surprise he feels whenever there’s a sudden strong aura of sin coming from you, he’s never prepared for it at all. It happened the first time when he and Asmo took you to the mall, and he felt the greed from you.

You didn’t seem like the kind of person who would want material things, but maybe it’s fair when you’re surrounded by all these new and foreign products you can’t find in the human realm. 

You were staring at this well-crafted piece of jewelry, it was unlike anything you’ve seen in the human world and it was enchanting the way it glistens. Its glitters would dance inside like a galaxy of stars encapsulated in such a beautiful glass of your favorite color. You’re drawn to it. You want it. 

Though when Mammon asks you “something caught yer eye over there?” You turn to him with a small smile before shaking your head. You know you can’t afford it yet and you try to move on to forget about it.

It astonishes him that you don’t succumb to this greed despite how strong he can feel it from you. The self-control is admirable but he knows how sometimes it can eat him up inside, he can hardly imagine how you can walk away from it. 

Mammon tries to drag you and Asmo in the store where he feels your greed is strongest. He basically uses this sixth sense of his like a detector, where he keeps an eye on you whenever that sudden desire rises up and he inspects which one it is.

You wondered where he’s been off to whenever classes end until Beel tells you that he spotted him working in Hell’s kitchen once. Maybe he was trying to pay off some debt, since you saw Levi chasing him around the house the other day. 

Much to your surprise, you find Mammon by your door with the jewelry you were admiring the other day at hand as a gift. To Mammon, the big smile on your face was worth the blackhole in his pockets. 

You asked him why he would buy you something so expensive, but most importantly how would he have known you wanted this. You never told anyone after all. Mammon starts turning red, because there’s no way he can admit that he felt your Greed. So he’ll keep that secret for himself. 

He starts taking note whenever you start feeling Greed. They don’t happen as often but when it does, he’d want to see what caught your attention. It’s through these that he learns what were the things you like. It’s an upper hand he has against his brothers to know what's the perfect gift to you, but of course most of the time he can’t afford it anyways. 

Levi

Levi’s envy is the most evident when it involves his interests. If his brothers do better in school? Sports? Style? He wouldn’t really care about such things because it’s just not his thing. But whenever there’s a new wave of Ruri-chan merchandise and he doesn’t get it first, you can expect him to be sulking and throwing a fit on the group chat. 

He’s caught off guard when you were out in the mall one day and while you were trying to buy the latest album of your favorite band, you saw that some other demon already got the last copy.

The aura of envy was gradual and faint, but when that demon who got the copy gave you a nasty look, the spike of emotions was overwhelming for the otaku. 

He knows how envy is something he can feel from other demons, he always felt that when Asmo can’t get his hands on a new beauty product, or even with Beel when any of the brothers have the last extra cookie. But this is the first time in ages that he felt it’s been that strong coming from you. 

You were the last person he expected to feel this way, especially when you turned back to him with a smile. You tell him that you’ll just get a copy when the new batch releases but he definitely knows it's not okay. You waited for this for so long after all. 

Perhaps he could get you what you wanted on Akuzon? With the help of Satan’s connections of course. Levi never wants you to sit with such an uncomfortable feeling, he knows well how it’s hard to hold envy in. You indulge in his interests, he might as well do the same for you.

When that envy is directed towards another person, whether it's a demon or anyone else, he’d try to be comforting since none of his brothers can feel what you do. Unlike demons, humans are better at suppressing these sorts of emotions. 

Some demon is taller and has a better build than you? The other has better grades or better hair? It irritates you often and Levi can feel it. But when that envy starts turning into a form of insecurity then you best bet that he’s the first one to notice and try to do something about it. 

“M-MC um… I know I don't say this a lot but, I'm glad you’re my player two. T-the… best one I could ask for and— AGH DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!!!”

Giving you compliments is hard for him, and trying to not stutter with every word proved to be more difficult. But feeling the envy slowly disappear and seeing that smile on your face was worth it. He reminds himself that it’s for the sake of your self-esteem, he won’t allow you to look down on yourself!!

Satan

It took him many years and human lifespans to be able to master this kind of calm. For a demon that only knew rage, it was difficult for him to be able to control it. The amount of work it took for him to be the calm and respectable person that he is today, you can’t even imagine.

Though most of the time, that well built persona of his slips out and that monster gets unleashed. When that does happen, it’s very hard for him to control himself. Up to the point you or the brothers would have to intervene to stop him from ripping someone apart.

He’s calm, but inside he could feel the burning rage all the time. The wrath cannot compare to other demons, but there was one time that it did and it shocked him to feel such intensity radiating from someone else.

You were in the middle of doing a project that involves drawing a summoning circle for class. Satan was your partner and you were in charge of drawing the outlines for now while he studied the symbols needed for the summoning. 

It was going great until one of your classmates bumped onto your table, making your steady hand accidentally draw against the whole circle. You’re gonna have to redraw the outlines again just when you are about to finish. The demon saw the irritated look on your face and scoffed. 

“Not my fault you were in the way.” the demon would reply and leave. Satan was irritated of course, but he felt the sudden surge of rage from you. Like a match tossed onto gasoline, it burns through your soul. Though you were still calm on the outside because the last thing you need is to pick a fight.

He would pat your shoulder “MC, are you feeling… alright?” you would turn to him with such a gentle smile and say that everything is fine, but the rage was still there that your smile and words was kind of unsettling to him. 

Your wrath does not compare to him of course, but you were the last person he’d expect to feel this kind of burning fire since you’re so sweet and patient all the time. He wonders if this is why you were able to empathize with him whenever he struggles controlling his rage. Maybe you two are more alike than he realizes. So he helps you calm down and redo everything. 

A few minutes after what happened, you could see that the demon from earlier accidentally summoned a colony of fire ants instead of what was actually assigned, and he was punished by getting rid of every ant with his bare hands. No magic. 

Satan just smiles, maybe a certain someone must’ve written their symbols all wrong. He doesn’t play dirty tricks like this in class often, but he wouldn’t mind if it would help quench your wrath down. Though he reminds you to be more honest to him if you’re feeling upset about anything. 

He becomes more observant on your wrath levels, taking note of what ticks you off and when he should take you away from the situation or if he should intervene. Insensitive jokes? Bad day? Mammon stealing your things again? Satan is there to make sure you don’t tear something apart (as tempting as that image may be). 

Asmo

What frustrated Asmo at first was that his charms never seemed to work on you. Regardless of his magic or dashing looks, you remain unfazed and he wonders why. Demons or humans, all would be dancing at the palm of his fingers by now!

That doesn’t mean he isn’t going to keep trying though, it just fuels his excitement when he thinks about what he can do just to see that flustered look on your face. 

Sometimes he’s in a slump when one of his advances fails again. None of his brothers offered useful advice and he’s the Avatar of Lust! He should know every play in the book because one of them is bound to work. 

One day while you and the brothers were watching a movie in the living room, he was able to sense a waft of lust in the room and his eyes frantically searched for the source. Oh to his surprise to see that it was coming from you. 

The Lust comes from attraction, and a certain scene from this movie stirred up some feelings. You’re quiet about it and focused on the film, unaware that Asmo now has his eyes on you.

He started becoming more observant to the times he feels that faint aura. When this character in the film said some sweet romantic words, or maybe even something bold and daring, Asmo would pick up on those cues. 

From then on he would mimic the moves that would make you swoon and there is a devious smirk on his face whenever they work. He knows what are the right buttons to push and he’s loving every single reaction he gets from you. 

As fun as this is, he does love how he learns more about the new things you like. He finds out what pet names you like just and which love language you prefer, all by observing how strong your aura gets. Sometimes when he just does something sweet for you, he would feel the butterflies.

Given the kind demons he’s surrounded himself with, he only found out his senses aren’t just limited to sexual desire. It counts for attraction and he feels that more often when he’s around you. It’s a new and strange sensation, but it was welcomed. 

“You look absolutely stunning today sweetheart” he would always tell you every morning to feel those butterflies again. It’s a good mood booster for the both of you. 

If you’re at that point where you’re comfortable being intimate with him, Asmo would definitely use this sense like a meter to know when’s the best time to ask for kisses and… maybe something more. 

Beel 

It’s an understatement to say that Beel is just “hungry all the time.” He’s famished, with a never ending appetite and constant demand for food. 

When he goes too long without it, you can say that for a moment, he becomes Wrath. Though it doesn’t compare to Satan’s rampages, it still does quite a lot of property damage accompanied with a large bill and a 3 hour lecture from Lucifer. 

He never really pays attention when he feels the hunger from other demons whenever he would eat a meal meant for 5 people. Though he wondered why he never felt that from you when you first came down here in Devildom. 

It was only when you both visited purgatory hall did he feel the hunger from you when you saw all the baked goods Luke made for a taste testing session. It was the kind of hunger where he could say that your mouth would've been watering if you let it. 

He practices some restraint and lets you take the first few cupcakes and sugar cookies. As hungry as he was, he wanted you to enjoy it first because he knows that the moment he picks up a tray of sweets, it’s gone in a matter of seconds. 

Despite your hunger, you noticed how he’s staring at you (or the food) so intently and decided to offer him a cupcake. That made him look at you confusingly, why would you offer him the food you seem to be craving for so much?

“MC… do you not like the food in Devildom?” He asks since your Gluttony has never been this strong before “I guess it’s just that I haven't seen you enjoy food like this when we eat our dinners at the house.”

After you explained, it’s only then that he realized that because a lot of the food and ingredients were so foreign (and unsafe), it never triggered your appetite. 

He can’t really blame you when the menu consists of bat wings, bufo toads, and more creatures that would sound unappealing for a human. He never noticed the loss of appetite since he was too busy stuffing his own mouth with food. 

Beel took note whenever your hunger is satiated so he’d know what kind of food you’d want to eat. He also finds out which ones aren’t your fancy. Sweets treats? Savory things? Spicy ones? Beel will know which one you’re a glutton for. Would probably inform Lucifer to make sure some of your meals accommodate your tastes while staying here. 

Whenever he notices that you’re hungry, Beel would take you to certain restaurants (which is safe for humans) that he thinks you might like once he knows what your tastes are. He likes seeing the happy smile on your face when you eat something delicious. 

Beel tries to avoid eating the things that you like since he can really just eat anything else. You deserve to eat your comfort foods after all! But in the event that he does, accident or not, he’ll apologize to you nonstop.

Belphie

You would say that he could sense any sort of laziness radiating from demons, but he’s always asleep in the attic to even notice it. He’s aware of it regardless but it’s never really useful. 

Belphie felt it the most in this house whenever he would pass by Lucifer’s office. Always radiating with fatigue it’s almost infectious, though Belphie doesn’t really care much. It’s what he gets for working with Diavolo. 

However, there was one time he went down the kitchen to get some water and found you by the living room staying up to study. The coffee that Satan made for you wasn’t really working anymore and you’re the only one left in the living room trying to study. 

He felt how sluggish and heavy your aura was as you desperately tried to stay awake. There was a test upcoming and you wanted to learn all that you could, but it’s not working anymore and Belphie knew that when he walked up to you. 

“You know you’re not gonna get anything done at this point… it’s late, come on let's go to bed” normally you would decline his offer to sleep, but since you were so tired you agreed. You both slept peacefully in your room and he could tell that you were more energized than last night. 

Belphie started taking note of the times you’re feeling a little sleepy or lazy. Most of which happens in one of the classes you’re not really interested in. If not that, then it’s the amount of work you have to do as a human exchange representative or as someone babysitting seven demons. You need a break. 

He would be the one to remind you to rest if the sluggish aura around you was getting stronger. Belphie would always be the first to know that you’re tired before you could even realize it yourself, and in the end he’s always right. 

Whenever you have chores to do but are too tired, Belphie would ask (or nag) one of the brothers to do it for you. They have a hard time saying no if Belphie says it's for your sake. Most of the time it’s true, though he would sometimes use it as an excuse to get out of his own chores too. 

He noticed that you don’t really decline when you’re tired every time he asks you to nap with him. It’s a window of opportunity and he’s going to exploit it if that means you both get to cuddle up together in the attic or in your room. It’s a win for the both of you.  

[the-yellow-birdy]

Is it better to speak, or to die?

A/N: Long time no see! This is an unedited first draft of the "Call me by your name" with Jane Murdstone idea(without the grooming ofc). Please let me know if you want me to continue and idk if im gonna change this draft as well, since I wrote it a bit fast. Feedback is definitely appreciated!:)

L.O.L. - Yellowbird

//18+ audience only! - all characters are above the age of 18\\

Summer, 1867

As you felt the lightness and warmth spread across the naked skin of your body, the repeating of your thoughts was tuned out by the sound of crickets in the all-round shrubbery. Sweat dripped from your neck and down your clavicle, going further with every breath you took in of the thick mid-summer air. The serene crystals reflecting from the icy lake had never been more inviting. Your hair was drenched from your own sweat and sticking to your forehead in need of a wash from the shining water. You looked at your pocket watch.

A quarter to five.

Summers spent at your uncles were where you found the most solace. He and his wife were wonderful, they so often invited you to come here and visit them and their charming vacation home. Days here were spend, swimming in the many lakes and ponds you would find on your outings, visiting nearby cities, reading various books from your uncles’ impressive library and cherry-picking in the midday with your uncles’ wife, Mary. Mary was a warm, outgoing woman. She found joy and interest in everything she saw, while speaking terribly loud and out of order about it. A significant contrast to your more timid uncle. A quiet and closed of man, who preferred the comfort of his study and the much-appreciated knowledge of ancient artifacts from the dusty books he kept. 

When you saw through the personality differences, you found quickly, that they were made for each other. Especially when you on occasion caught a glimpse of them in the family room on your way to your chamber in the late evenings. There, in the privacy of their relation, they laugh, talk and exchange tender touches, soft laugh lines forming around your uncle’s mouth. 

More you haven’t dared stayed to witness, it would be rude and improper to impose on such tender moments.

The grass tickled your bare feet as you stretched the whole of your body.

There was to be a visitor this year. Uncle Cyrus was a widely acknowledged archeologist professor, teaching at the Da Vinci institute back in Berlin. He was a passionate individual who spent his summers nose deep in the same subject and area as his livelihood.

Although this year, your uncle had decided to open his home once more for interested candidates, who would very much like to visit the north Italian countryside with many findings from the grand sea not far. It had been several years since a fellow interested had accompanied him over the summer. Your uncle was an elderly gentleman, about seventy, his wife around a decade younger having carried no children nor related to any nieces or nephews except you, therefore he had begun searching for a new candidate.

It was to be a woman, he told you. A professor in anthropology, beginning the early stages of research in the areas of archeology.

“It is a marvel! Have you ever heard such unique wonder, Mary!”, your uncle shouted out of character, several weeks ago from his office, as you were sat reading in front of the fireplace. Truly a neck-breaking sight, as he stumbled frantically out of his study, your presence going unnoticed by him, and up the spiral staircase.

A woman. You had thought. 

Never had you heard of such a thing. A woman professor in anthropology.

You weren’t a daft girl yourself, of course you knew it was possible, never had you simply heard of it, often being told as a young girl to keep your head out of the clouds, the books you read had formed. Followed later, by restriction of said books. 

You sat back on your heels and let the wind blow against the ample flesh of your chest, yawning at the thought of the walk back to the vineyard. Brown and green stains had soiled the white fabric of your dress. You had laid upon it as an alternative for the blanket you had forgotten. Your undergarments used for drying the water of your skin. 

You begin dressing yourself by efficiently buttoning up your corset, followed by tying your undergarments and chemise. As you had put your dress and heeled boots on you stepped out of the Oaktree’s shadow and began your walk back home. You couldn’t remember at which hour the candidate would arrive, so you thought it best to pick up your pace.

---------

“Y/n! Wherever have you been, dear? You look as if the bear had gotten its paws on you.”, Mary looked bewildered as she descended the staircase.

The house was a French inspired Cascina residence. Beautifully build from the first laid brick to the last, with simple tree carved windows and a robust brick red roofing. The foyer of the home displayed simple white-yellow walls with paintings placed on them and the floor covered with a variety of Axminster carpeting.

It wasn’t grand, nor expensive, yet it was charming and the life it oozed never ceased to calm you, when you spend your summers here.

“Simply by the lake, Aunt Mary. I apologize for my appearance; I… tripped… on the way back.”, you lied, trying to seal it with a genuine smile.

She came quickly to where you stood. She held a gentle grip on your forearms, turning you in her grasp to further inspect. 

Her eyes looked upon your face, “tripped you say?”

“…badly”, you added, choosing not to look her in the eyes opting for the dress.

Aunt Mary apparently chose to leave the matter at hand, knowing the visitor would be arriving at any moment now.

“Alright well, go wash yourself off and change to a dress that doesn’t make you look like a rogue child. Ms. Murdstone shall be arriving shortly.”, she gave you a light squeeze to your upper arms.

“Ms. Murdstone?”, you whispered.

“Yes yes, you know? The assisting candidate of your uncle.”

You nodded slowly, letting the name of the woman sink in. Ms. Murdstone. It was a rather odd name for an unmarried woman you pondered.

“Off you go!”

As you gave your aunt a curt smile and looked down, you went to ascend the staircase. Unbeknownst to you, a soaked washcloth was further from your reach than you had thought--

You froze in the middle of the staircase, quick steps of your uncle coming into view at the top, as three knocks had rung out in the room. Silence. 

You turned to look down at your aunt, yet her eyes already laid upon her husband. Hurriedly your uncle went past you.

“Y/n, there is no time, give a quick greeting and leave to change thereafter.” Mary whispered tightening your uncle’s butterfly.

How utterly humiliating. 

It is no secret that first impressions matter, yet your disorderly mind has kept you from making just that. This woman was going to be met by a soiled dirty looking young woman, will she not have a fright? 

Please lord, forgive my poor deeds.

As your uncle took a deep breath to calm his nerves and looked towards your aunt and you, a quick furrow of his eyebrows as he laid his eyes upon your dress, he turned the doorhandle and stepped aside.

In your peripheral you observed the darkness of the woman’s shadow, yet you couldn’t keep your gaze fixed upon the carpets any longer. 

“Ms. Murdstone, a pleasure to meet you!”, your uncle nervously laughed, his figure disappearing behind the woman.

It was the first glance you ever laid upon her.

As she sauntered through the blackwood door, the first thing you noticed was a significant height difference between her and yourself. She had the skin of a snowclad field in winter and hair black as raven feathers, styled to the sides of her head. She looked around the space as if assessing the quality of the housing, foregoing any introduction of herself. The woman wore an all-black attire, from her corsage to her skirts, to her low sitting cap. Her gloved hands were clad in front of her, trading the warm energy of the home with a sophisticated and poised aura.

The woman turned midway through the door, looking at your uncle, “pleasures all mine, Mr. Bamford”, said the woman with a faux saccharine undertone. 

She smoothly shifted her focus in front of your aunt. “Mrs. Bamford, I presume?”, her honeyed smile went wide as she looked down upon your aunt, yet her eyes held something much unalike.

You looked to your aunt, her mouth fell slightly agape, “Uh.. Uhm.. yes, welcome”. She stuttered.

It was clear that the woman’s intensity had gotten the better of both Aunt Mary and your uncle.

“And this is…?”, you quickly turned your head to the woman who now, was meandering in your direction. Her eyes were trained on your face, and unamused expression had fallen upon hers. She looked back at your uncle as if expecting an answer. 

“Uhm Y/n, sorry... Ms. L/n…, Ms Murdstone”, you looked down. Your vision was disrupted by black fabric coming to place right in front of you.

Ms. Murdstone gave an unimpressed glance to your aunt and uncle, “I see. Look at me girl.”

A hand came to lift your chin.

You watched as she tilted her head to observe the state of you. Definitely not impressed. Your eyes searched for your aunt and uncle, who simply ignored your silent pleas, and kept up their mannered smiles. They gave each other a short-whiled look and went back to woman and the scene unfolding.

As your eyes went back to the woman, your spine chilling at the sight of the woman’s light blue eyes and found she had been staring directly at your face. 

Hopefully she is not bothered by it, it is not simply a dress to clean.

She quickly let go of you again. Her gaze leaving as fast as it came. Ms. Murdstone wandering further into the house, “My belongings have been left outside by the carriage, I believe a maid will fetch it, or am I to do so myself?”

“Oh yes, of course uhm, right away!”, exclaimed your uncle and went to call for the staff, while your aunt scurried after the observing woman, already entering another area of the house.

*click*

As you closed the heavy wooden door you watched your reflection in the window. Nervously you studied yourself. 

I don’t believe I have any filth on my face.

Tagelist:

@readingtheentrails @ladybathoryy @aemilia19

[theographos]

Why Aliens feels off in Tales of Arcadia

Don't get me wrong, I really like Aja, Krel and Varvatos. I even think that 3Below was quite good, even if i'm not a sci-fi fan at all (i even managed to fall asleep in front of every Star Wars ever, and not with any other movie). But good doesn't mean good in terms of storytelling. Because after all 3Below is set in the Tales of Arcadia franchise, and let's just say they don't 100% fit in it.

So why is that ?

1. Trollhunters is based on a book, and the book doesn't contain any aliens.

Well from what I have researched the book doesn't contain any trace of wizards too. I will also add that I haven't read the original book, I just made some researches about its content on the internet.

For those who don't know, Trollhunters : Tales of Arcadia is a loose adaptation of a book written by Guillermo Del Toro and Daniel Kraus, called Trollhunters. It's an adaptation similar to How to Train Your Dragon : The characters are present, the surnatural/fantasy aspect of the book is also present but everything else is changed. I even saw that Steve dies in the book, so glad they didn't take that route.

And i'm not part of the people who screams and cry everytime there is any changes from a book to a movie, To be deeply honest with you all I studied Cinema and English litterature in highschool and my final projet for those two subjects was to talk about how some changes in book adaptations are a good idea.

But it just shows that writer did not have any basic material for it. They had to create it all from scraps, and I feel like the first season of Trollhunters was already out when they thought of aliens, so they decided to connect it howerver they could. Which leads us to our second point.

2. Aliens don't really have any deep connections with humans, trolls or wizards.

Wizards and trolls fought against Gumm gumms, wizards have created many magical relics that Trolls uses, and as we saw with Hisirdoux wizards have an habit of dealing with trolls species. The interactions are already present, they have a deep history between them, shares problems and common knowledge.

Aliens apparently shook hands long time ago on Earth and were gone for the rest of the time, so except an old memory forgotten by almost everyone, they don't really have a pre existing history tying them to the different races in the story.

Trolls and wizards are based on things we already know off. I mean we have countless myths and legends about them already, but there is a bit more to that.

Horseshoe are items to uncover if someone is a changeling, trolls love to eat socks, which ties into the forever myth of "why am I always missing a sock", you think that racoons made your trashcan fall but it could have been gobelins, is that a black cat or just a small dragon etc. You really have the aspect that you interact with the "underworld" on a day to day basis without being actually aware of, and that goes deeper than just "oh this random person is just a troll in disguise".

Aliens don't really have that, like no one except the army used alien technology before 3Below, and still it was in secret so we can't really copy that to our everyday life as easily as the previous examples that I made.

Earth is about Trolls, humans, demi-gods and wizards. And it also happened to have aliens once in a while, but nothing much about it. And that leads us to our last point.

3. The plot has no space for Aliens.

Since the whole story is about earth and the fate of earth, we don't really have space for Aliens in the plot (no puns intended). We can literally see that with the 3Below plot : gumm gumms are something completly unrelated to the plot, it just happens in the back while the main plot is happening. 3Below is more of a spin-off or a "What If?" kind of show than a continuation of the main plot.

3Below is an interlude, an easter egg for the fans. You barely see the main cast, the main cast barely acknowledge the presence of the trio in their own show.

See I wouldn't be criticizing it if it was considered as such in the franchise. A side-story that doesn't impact the plot, but for fan service it will appear in the final movie so that everyone has their conclusion.

But it's not the case, it is seen as an important part of the story by the studio. It has never been advertised as something else than an active part of Tales of Arcadia.

If they truly wanted something about aliens, it should have been as a side story, a spin off.

But as a major part of the franchise, it doesn't deserve its spot and you can feel it.

[donethatbeforelong]

Too far away

Fandom: Team Fortress 2

Pairing: Heavy/Medic; Red Oktoberfest

(Authour here, just want to let you know that this will have two parts and I have decided to put more spaces between each paragraphs)

•~•~•~•

"You're so down to Earth

And I'm up in the Stars

Show me the Sea

And I'll take you to Mars"

This is close to a metaphor, with one being off in the stars, and one down in Earth's atmosphere. In this case, however, maybe it doesn't need to be earth and space.

One's burned into the blacklist, and one's fate has yet to be decided. However far apart their realms might be, one will crawl through deserts with snakes to be with someone who's too out of reach.

•~•~•~•

"Ludwig, what do you think you're doing?" The devil couldn't handle seeing the doctor play fool for any longer. He had stood there for an hour or so, and the doctor couldn't even acknowledge him being there.

Ludwig, an angel who fell from Heaven in its early stages of existence, doesn't seem to fear The Devil as much as he should.

"Hm?" The doctor hummed in response and turned around, smoothing out his hair with his free hand. Though Ludwig knows his presumed boss is talking to him, the German doesn't bother looking at him directly.

The laboratory was squeaky clean as usual, with the exceptions of his work desk and the current subject being gagged on his operating table. Hell doesn't provide too much for its employees or workers, just enough for them to get work done efficiently. But Ludwig was an exception from this. Up to date equipments and technologies lined the walls of his lab and has presented itself several time throughout his procedures. Satan nearly exhausted most of his power just for a living human to enter Hell for Ludwig's experiment.

Ludwig's appearance was quite different from the rest of the demons who resonated in Hell. It's common knowledge that one's appearance can be changed and altered in a way they like, so it's not rare to see the many different varietion of demons from the same Ring. Though, in some rarer cases, a demon managed to retain some of its angelic features from before the fall. Ludwig was one of the many that had kept one or two of his old features.

His appearance is based on his most commited sin or which Ring he belonged to, similar to everyone else. He had black hair that was greying on the side to depict his age and time spent in Hell, blue eyes that used to be comforting now filled with malicious intentions were hidden behind round glasses. His skin was peppered with golden flakes, going from the side of his face down to his heel. This was not the only angelic feature that managed to survive the fall. Wings that he often kept hidden were burned badly during the fall, some feathers now dark in color but some stayed white. He could barely use them, but cutting them off won't be of any use.

Many assumed that Ludwig was an angel who had possession of impressive intellect that God created and decided to gift him those golden flakes. The real truth, however, was that he held an angel from that department captive when he got the chance and experimented on them. During the procedure, he removed the feature that distinguished them from the others and implanted it into himself. Unfortunately, due to the use of Hell Fire, the angel died and that's when he started his way to Hell at a fast pace. He spent only a few decades in Heaven before he was casted down.

Disciplined badly with burning hot iron and holy whips, Ludwig was casted down to Hell with disapproving looks and digusted faces from the angels he once was close with.

Throughout his time in Hell, Ludwig had adopted a German accent which didn't take long to get used to. In addition to that, he also studied medicine and German during his free time. He mastered the art of medicine within a few decades and had completely adapted to the German accent and language.

He didn't belong to a specific Ring which is a rare occurrence and only some of the unfortunate demons would get into this situation. Satan took him in as one of his many assistance in the Wrath Ring. Though, some demons often see Ludwig going off to the Pride or Lust Ring but they never bothered telling Satan. On one occasion, he gone to the Sloth Ring and didn't return until a month later. When Satan asked about it, Ludwig claimed to have gone there to 'take a break'.

"I'm asking about your 'subject' on the table." Satan stated plainly, a sharp finger pointing at the gagged demon on the table. Its eyes were blood shot, a stitch here and there all over its body. The line of dried tears remained visible despite the hours that went by.

Ludwig looked at the operating table, then at Satan, and back to the table. A small smile spread on his lips as he closed his eyes and gently shrugged.

"Just wanted to run some experiments to find a vay to prevent Holy Water from harming us too severely." His voice was chipper and there was a spring in his step when he went over to his desk and picked up his clipboard, noting down his findings.

Satan sighed audibly and rubbed his temple. Ludwig had been a pain in his ass ever since he managed to convince him to provide funding for these experiments.

Though, that's the only thing he's here for.

Ever since that one time Satan got a living man down to Hell, Ludwig had grew an unhealthy obsession with human beings - similar to his already unhealthy obsession with birds, especially pigeons and doves. That man died within a month because of the various painful tests that he had to endure and Ludwig had begged Satan for another one to be brought down. Although it was made clear to the German doctor that he will never bring another down for it was too risky, Ludwig still tried to find a way to do that himself.

An assistant of his had informed him about Ludwig's change in behavior whenever Satan was off to see the other managers of Hell. Usually, it wouldn't be much other than creeping around the place in a suspicious manner. Now, however, it was lockpicking and entering Satan's office to look through various human records and to watch the cameras that surveillance the human world and Hell's targeted souls.

It was easy to notice and identify that it was him. Ludwig often wears a white lab coat with a long tail behind, nearly resembling one of a dove's.

The assistant said he had developed a particular interest in a Russian man who's file was not as thick compared to some others. Mikhail was his name.

"Vell, if you're here to just ask about my experiment the you may leave, danke." Ludwig waved his red gloved hand at Satan, tossing his clipboard on his desk and returning his attention to the subject on the table.

"No, I don't think I will." Satan lowered his voice in order to sound calm and collected despite the rage inside him, but it seemed to have intimidated the doctor. His body went rigid and hands spread out by his side. At least he got the doctor's attention now.

Ludwig slowly turned around, crossing his arms behind his back. A weak, nervous grin was forced on his lips, his eyes darting ever so often. Satan stood there in silence with Ludwig, letting him guess what he had done wrong.

"I know you had snuck into my office multiple times." Satan eventually stated calmly, his voice deep and quiet. Ludwig's grin disappeared from his face almost immediately, leaving a scared demon to tremble silently in his own lab.

"I know you're particularly interested in this one human man on Earth." The ruler of the Wrath Ring circled around him, his tail flicking under Ludwig's chin, curling ever so often to emphasize his point.

At this point, the doctor's eyes was screwed shut, eyesbrows furrowed, a slight grimace on his lips and a bead of sweat slid down the side of his head.

"I'll give you a chance to meet this man," Satan stepped away from Ludwig, letting the doctor breath out a sigh he was holding. "In return, you get his soul for me. Deal?"

"Ja!" Ludwig's voice sounded strained and he was shaking uncontrollably. His hands clenched to the sides of his coat, glasses crooked to one side with a wide smile plastered on his face. The sudden agreement shocked Satan for a moment or two before the feeling of satisfaction swelled in his chest.

Satan nodded and signaled for Ludwig to follow, which he did. It was a silent walk to his office, the clicking of dress shoes and boot heels against the tiled floor echoed through the halls. When they reached the office, Satan pushed the door open and offered for Ludwig to enter first, which he gratefully took.

"Now, Ludwig, I won't just let you go to Earth by yourself. You have to remain in contact with Hell so I'll send you some assistance." Satan explained, snapping his fingers and making Mikhail's file appear in his hand.

As he looked over his personal information, Ludwig was transfixed on the camera monitor. Both of his elbows propped up on the table with his chin in a bloody gloved hand, a loop side grin on his face as he stared at the mortal man on the screen.

Satan was sure half of all the things he just said fell to deaf ears when Ludwig let out a rather too dreamy sigh. Deciding steer the topic to the doctor's favor, Satan dropped the file next to him and let the doctor look over it freely.

"Why do you find this human interesting, anyhow?" Satan asked, a finger pointed directly at the screen.

"Vell, I can't tell you everything but if put simply: he's an interesting specimen." Ludwig emphasize the word 'specimen' with a grin on his face. Looks like he craves more than just attention from this human. He wants his body in a experimental and sexual way, Satan can only assume.

It didn't take long for Satan to introduce Ludwig with his new colleagues. The first of them was a demon from the Lust Ring named Spy. Satan didn't elaborate with the doctor on why he was named that way and Ludwig didn't bother asking. With the development in the human world, Spy took on the French accent to appear more seductive and romantic.

Spy showed up in the office with gray smoke surrounding him. When the smoke cleared out, Spy was shown to wear a blue pinstripe suit with a matching tie. His face was covered by a matching color ski mask and an unlit cigarette loose between his lips.

Unlike Ludwig, Spy was a Hellborn, meaning he was created and existed in Hell for longer than Ludwig had. While the German doctor could change his appearance with some difficulties because he fell from Heaven and became a sinner, Spy is completely adapted to his form and can no longer change it.

Spy had greyish blue skin, snake eyes and glimmering black scales that covered nearly half of his body. Whenever he opens his mouth to adjust, throw away his already used cigarette or to light another one, a glimpse of sharp fangs can be seen that are similar to those of a snake. His hair is unknown to the doctor because of the ski mask over, but Spy claimed it to be black with some grey hairs.

The second one belonged to the Wrath Ring with an unusual obsession with fire.

Originally, he had been created and had lived in the Envy Ring for about three decades. But due to the many misuses of fire and Levithan couldn't handle babysitting them for much longer, a transfer was made for a permanent change to the Wrath Ring.

It wasn't much of a struggle to move the fire demon when they realize the Wrath Ring will be much better than the Envy Ring. Most demons wouldn't want to be transfer to another because it will take several years for them to adapt to both environment and appearance.

Satan described them as an arsonist with an unhealthy attachment to all things fire when they arrived in the Wrath Ring. He would constantly try to burn several magazines in one day or start a fire within the office. Of course, no one really got hurt from all the burning but it was still an nuisance to try and stop them from doing so.

"I will let you meet him privately. They don't have a good connection with Spy." Satan said, a hand hovering over the small of Ludwig's back and lending him to where he was supposed to meet this demon. "Its name is Pyro if you must know. Don't refer it to anything else or try to give him a name."

The German doctor wondered why Satan switches constantly between pronounces. At first, he referred to the demon as a girl. Later on, however, Satan called the demon a 'they' and then a 'he'. At some point, the fire demon was called an 'it' either out of despise or something else.

The room that Satan led him to seemed to be a small flat that he had never seen before. All workers of Satan usually have their own living space, but Ludwig and some others were a special case so they have a place to live built by Satan himself. This room, Ludwig assumed, is new and he had a feeling like this wasn't the first room that the fire demon was assigned to.

"Uh, hello zhere." Ludwig said when he first came face to face with the arsonist.

Pyro was so much more different than Ludwig initially thought. They wore a thick gas mask over their head with a red hazmat suit. Their voice came out in muffles that Ludwig didn't really understand, so they decided to write down anything they want to say on a thick notepad. In the room with Pyro - besides accommodation furnitures - were several burned magazines and papers, a glittery unicorn backpack and their hand made flamethrower.

The curious thing about Pyro is that they don't have any visible demon features. No horns, no tails visible. They almost looked human to Ludwig. No features that indicate which Ring they belonged to, either.

"Come on, I don't have all day." Spy said, his French accent thick against his ear. In the room, Pyro stood up, grabbed his backpack and his flamethrower. Ludwig turned around with a surprised look on his face but didn't say anything. He didn't expect Spy to be that close to him, but he's in no position to complain.

Soon, the three of then returned to Satan's office with everything prepared.

"I hope you three got acquainted with each other. You won't get to stay on Earth for long, maybe a year or two at best." Satan snapped his finger and another door appeared in the office.

Unlike the entrance door to the office that is made of oak wood, this one was made of light birch wood with a silver knob. Ludwig can only assume this was his way to Earth.

"Spy will guide you as he had been to Earth several times to carry out his duties." Satan said, giving Spy a firm pat on the shoulder.

Pyro opened the birch door and entered the human world first, leaving the other two behind either follow him or to talk to Satan for a while.

"Watch out for the angels." Satan warned them, then he turned away and disappeared. Ludwig often witness him doing that but now it just seems dramatic.

To Ludwig's surprise, he ended up in a white space between Earth and Heaven when he gone through the door. Pyro was sitting above the doorway to Heaven, swaying and kicking their feet with muffled laughter. Spy leaned against the doorway to Earth, a lit cigarette in his mouth and a smile on his face.

"Let's go docteur, we have work to do." Spy stated plainly, walking towards the doorway to Heaven. Pyro jumped down from on top, grabbed Ludwig's hand and dragged him along.

Heaven is, as everyone is aware of, a holy place that can rid of any unholy aspects from any being. Heaven's consecrated ground can burn through a demon's skin quite easily and leave irreversible scars upon their body.

But due to the many times the Rulers of Hell had to come and discuss 'business' with the Archangels, some more intelligent demons created ways for them to enter Heaven without being obliterated completely. Unfortunately, Ludwig wasn't a part of that project at the time.

Spy's dress shoes clicked against the pristine white tiles, leaving small cracks on the floor. The smoke from his cigarette curling in the air slowly, spreading around and evaporating. Pyro's boots left dark stains on the floor and Ludwig's boots left trails that looked burned in. For good measure, their foot wear aren't burning off, but it shows that they're demons and not holy beings. There are always ways to prevent this from happening but Ludwig didn't have time to prepare.

"Vhat kind of business do ve have here anyvay?" Ludwig asked, walking close by Pyro's side as she skipped along. All around them were white pristine walls, with golden decorations and pearls. Large windows surrounded the place that give view to a golden lined city underneath. From Ludwig's understanding, down there is where all the people that became angels live. But Ludwig had never been down there or came in contact with those angels.

Spy took his cigarette out of his mouth and pressed the butt against the wall, leaving an ugly burned mark waiting to be discovered by the angels. Pyro mumbled something to Spy but it didn't look like the lust demon gave mind to it.

"We're here to discuss with an angel, obviously." Spy said as if it was obvious. "We demons needs to perform some rituals of our own before entering Earth's atmosphere. The angels can come and go as they pleased." Pyro grumbled at the mention of the angels being able to freely enter Earth.

The whole situation became clear to the doctor.

They're either here to kidnap an angel or tempt them into giving them access to Earth. And he's really hoping that it was the former.

As the round a corner, a young angel in a light baby blue uniform poofed into existence in front of Spy. Ludwig took two steps back and pulled Pyro behind him. Spy didn't give much of a reaction other than an awkward flinch.

He had a young and oval shaped face, brownish blond hair that were cut short and bunny like front teeth. His uniform indicate that he was one of the regular angels that usually get sent to Earth to make blessing. Ludwig had rarely interact with the low class angels but he does routine checks on them sometimes. Like angels, some demons also have free will to come to Earth. Not them, though.

Spy could come and go as he pleased, but he can't take anyone else with him other than his equipments. Pyro was deemed to risky to come to Earth, and Ludwig wasn't fully mentally prepared to go through the procedure.

The young angel looked awfully cheerful to see a couple of demons in the realm of holiness. But as soon as his eyes landed on Spy, his smile fell and his expression became more neutral.

"Whatcha three demoms doing here? Don't cha know that it's basically forbidden?" He asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. Ludwig didn't know whether to be afraid of his old colleagues catching sight him or to be glad that an angel isn't oblitetating them on sight.

Pyro cheerfully waved at the young angel and muffled a few words to him. Unfortunately, the baby face angel did not understand anything and was left staring at Pyro with a confused look. The angel eventually looked over Spy's shoulder and a frown appeared on his face.

"Ya gonna have taken clean that up. I'm not cleaning your mess." He said, a finger pointing at the stains left in the floor accusingly.

Spy sighed and pulled the angel by the shoulders close to him. "Listen, Jeremy, do me a favor and not tell your superior about us."

It wasn't much of a command but the angel reluctantly agreed without any complaints. Spy and the angel started talking in whispers, occasionally sighing audibly.

Pyro then pulled out his notepad from his glittery backpack and scribbled down something with a blue pen. When he was done, it was shown to be an explanation on how Spy know the angel that is named Jeremy so well.

Apparently, from what Ludwig can read, Spy and Jeremy were both from Hell once. Jeremy was a sinner and Spy was a Hellborn. They had a close father and son relationship with each other until one day, Jeremy was miraculously redeemed and brought to Heaven.

Ever since then, they have been sending each other letters about their own lives. Jeremy said Heaven was much better than Hell and that Spy lied to him about Heaven being full of arrogant angels.

"Alright, gentlemen, I've strike a deal with Jeremy." Spy announced, fixing his tie and dusting his suit as Jeremy shrugged and walked away. Ludwig watched the young angel leave, wondering just how long he had been in Heaven if Spy had been in Hell longer than him.

"Let us make haste, gentlemen." Spy started walking in a direction that was familiar with Ludwig. "We don't have all day to get you to Earth, Ludwig."

"Ja, I know." Responded Ludwig as he made sure Pyro was catching up before picking up his pace to keep up with Spy.

•~•~•~•

This took way longer than I'd like to admit.

Part two won't be coming any sooner but do trust me that there will be a part two.

[gamerism]

This is my "I think Ishin is trying to imply Okita and Todo have a relationship off screen that Ryoma just isn't really aware of" essay. Finally written down so I can stop repeating it all the time.

[Spoilers ahead for events that take place late into the events of Ishin, including major character death.]

I'm going to start by saying that I think Okita is immediately slightly queercoded by association, as Majima is a queercoded characer. (If you require evidence, simply read the dialogue in any Majima Everywhere event.) And Okita is acting as his mirror in this story. By acting the same way Majima does, he also subtly shows the same queer traits as Majima, but that alone isn't really enough for me to call Okita queercoded, more just that he has the potential/background work.

Todo and Okita don't have much in the way of interactions outside of group contexts, which effect the way they act with each other. So the first thing that really points to potential queerness in either of them (beyond what I've already said about Okita) that I want to mention is not directly related to Okita or Todo but from someone else. It's Takeda expressing interest in Todo in this creepy-as-hell scene:

This dialogue is the second line that makes Takeda's interest in men explicitly clear to the audience (the first being a come-on towards Ryoma), but if you're familiar with the way in which relationships between samurai were for a time somewhat accepted, though as I understand it not exactly outright acknowledged (please correct me here/add nuance if you know more about the subject), this does, in it's way, reflect back on Todo. At least as the subject of interest. (And give it's implications about Todo's orientation and the perception of his orientation in the Shinsengumi.)

Moving on to the direct interactions between the two. At the meeting in Ryoma's room after the Shinsengumi splintered into two factions, Okita follows the reveal of Todo ('Heisuke' to him, the only character he does not use an honourific with to my knowledge, implying their closeness*) being a supposed traitor clearly surprised and despondent.

(*Cont. Okita's a straightforward person, everyone is -chan to him because he's a playful & impertinent guy, except Inoue, who is -san out of deep respect. The lack of honourific would also have a straightforward meaning.)

Okita is known for big emotions but not deep ones, and rarely honest ones if they don't relate to the people he really cares about (seen with how real he gets emotionally about his mentor dying and him going on a warpath). So this reaction is understated, but it feels real rather than fabricated as most of his reactions to things (somewhat) are.

This follows with Todo making his entrance and the reveal that he faked his betrayal to act as a spy in the ranks of the Goryo Eji. We focus on Okita's reaction to this news (both now and before we aren't given much on Ryoma or Nagakura's reactions, Okita's is the focus) the relief is obvious in his voice.

Next we skip ahead to Todo's death. Okita is shown to be the one who carries him in to the scene, laying him down gently on the ground. Immediately as we're shown the reactions of everyone in the scene he's clearly the most emotional externally based off expressions.

He stares down at Todo on the ground in the background as Ryoma discusses the plan with Hijikata.

When Ryoma turns to Okita, Okita threatens him. Something he hasn't done in a serious manner since the scene in Mukurogai following Inoue's death (and his brief belief that Ryoma was the one responsible). As Okita threatens him a tear visibly falls.

This is by FAR the most vulnerably emotional we've seen Okita in the game. It's hard to say if he's more distraught than when his mentor (and seemingly somewhat father figure) was killed but he's going so far as to be vulnerable enough to cry. And we know Okita has a special connection to Inoue and Nagakura that sets the group apart from the rest of the Shinsengumi captains. Sure, he's had the chance to grow close to Todo since the man joined. As it is stated early on that Todo joined the organisation soon after that fateful night where Hirayama, Hirama and Serizawa 'died'. So while he wasn't in on the secret he has been around for quite a while. (At least as far as I understand that part, the game is a little so-so about explaining if anyone beyond those present in the scene where the real Okita, Nagakura & Inoue die are in the know or not.)

But I feel that the game leaves us with the implication that Okita would not get anywhere near this emotional over the death of anyone besides Nagakura and Inoue, with their shared history. So why does Todo's death hit him so hard?

It feels to me like they're trying to subtly imply that the off screen relationship between the two of them was just different to Okita's relationship with the other captains, even the ones he got on with. So pair the off screen, not quite acknowledged nature of this with real historical context....it feels like a romantic implication to me personally.

in conclusion:

But also I can't tell if I'm just reading way into at this point, tell me if I need to go lie down and think less about the text until I stop seeing gay ppl everywhere or no

[gumi-writes]

my (grey)hound is named atropos, as they are a part of a trio of mcs derived from the moirai. their greyhound moniker was a play on their role and their age (65; older mc's are fun to write about!) it's quite ironic if you think about it; death is the most free in its inevitability for all things, and here is its personification, bound in a gilded leash. yes, the unliving soulless die by the scissor's snap and their unrelenting chase, but it is not their call that begins the hunt. finality wielded like a blade by humanity on the brink of apocalypse. eventually, patient and unwavering death wearies.

im waiting for the game to drop because 85% of their lore is dependant on the allmother, and so is lachesis and clotho's (who are not the greyhound's sisters, but different selves in different timelines, like the fig tree dilemma), so unfortunately i don't have much else to say about them and their situation as a weapon. atropos is meant to explore the nature vs. nurture discussion of ts' themes, technically the first in line of the timeline (existence is a cyclic curse amirite xx death unto life). greyhounds were born to hunt for their masters, but not every dog can attest to the glee in sinking their teeth deep into the throat of a stag. there is no say to be had, though. it is in your veins and the blood on your hands. refusing this fate would be acknowledging the inherent injustice of your life, and that would hurt more than your own knife. so you swallow the bitter ichor in your mouth. eventually, humans and soulless are nothing more to you like the soft pelted animal you cornered. (there was a moment in the past this bloodlust didn't stain your mother's womb.)

maybe in the next life.

on that note, the hound, the unnamed, and the alchemist were all very interesting archetypes to me. you can dissect so many of humanity's philosophies into 3. the hound is love as desperation, as cruelty, as consumption (and what is desire if not this dog eat dog world?) the unnamed is our desperation manifest as a need for something greater than us that we carve from ourselves; love as something holy, terrifying, all-seeing. the alchemist is our need that scratches under the skin to know all that is greater than and below us (if to be known is to be loved, then maybe we can be the one love if we understand. or are you repulsed? do you bite into the apple knowing the doom that seeps across your tongue? we want to be loved but no one talks about the desire to be the one to subject the other to tender cruelty) violence, god, knowledge. the 3 types of homosexuality babyyyyyy. mashing the moirai into one person but different selves like Evil Scientist Petri Dish Session is quite ambitious but to me, humans aren't just one dilemma. (or maybe im just Evil Gay Scientist trying to smooth talk out of this) we are everything suffering of anything. the sorrows change as the seasons pass. and so in every universe, regardless of theseus' paradox, they suffer. (your post about the li's masochism was really succinct and beautiful by the way, and is it a safe place to say all 5 of them apply to every one of these mc's at once sgshgd i love torturing gay people /silly)

i kind of pegged tien as the unnamed first (i know so unoriginal heartbreak emoji), until i found out she is a love interest. i thought it was interesting to have their holiness addled with destruction, but either way, she proves a really fascinating case. what are their thoughts on higher powers or deities as her role of a nun? when her knees rest before a false idol, do they look down out of grace or to spit at their feet in her mind? what are they like with the other senobium clergy?

(and the idea of tien's blood in mc really brings together that violent, holy, esoteric understanding trio. RAGAGAGAGG!!!!! COMPLEX GAY PEOPLE 5 KM AWAY ❤️❤️❤️ WILL THE HAND THAT FEEDS MC WRAP AROUND THEIR NECK!!!! i volunteer as tribute xx there is no being the exception to one as apathetic as she but there is a chance to be a thorn in their side that stings a lingering saccharine ache. and if you leave they will not glance at your headstone but the dragging of your corpse in her belly is all the same.) also ive seen artworks of tien with lunari and i find them very fascinating! what's their relationship like? thoughts on each other? (your wife is beautifully skilled with their art by the way i start chewing on my lap top everytime i see their post)

hi anon it's another essay for you i'm like

yessss i’m so happy you’re willing to share details of your own mc! 🥰 i LOVE the idea of an older mc, especially since we are dealing with a cast of people with mysterious lifespans, haha. i love the nod to greek mythology as well! but it’s funny how personifications work that way, isn’t it? what does it mean to collar death, if only in embodiment alone? and is there room for anything beyond, especially when the humdrum of routine is so bloodied? are you not simply at that point waiting for your turn, for the blade to finally be at your neck?

that makes sense! i love how you’re incorporating them as different selves as well, i think it’s really fascinating! what better way to explore the potential of a setting and its possibilities with varying faces? and i really love that atropos will explore the nature vs nurture discussion because i think it’s very apt in the ts universe because it has such a high threshold for violence which would further colour the debate, but in a way that i think will draw out its fullest potential. the choice to die or to fulfill your use as a tool is no choice at all, but what can you do but tread the trodden road until the very end? maybe there’s no joy in it. but it’s comforting, if only in its familiarity. any newness feels too raw, and maybe too late—something you might tell yourself, even if it serves as the most bitter of salves.  

what a lovely way to succinctly split all the backgrounds! i love that an all-too-human desperation seemingly ties them all together—understandable, given that the beginning of the game is an act of desperation. honestly, you’ve basically described why touchstarved has ignited a certain thirst in me to engage with the world in a way i haven’t engaged with many worlds in a while—the extremes of humanity and what we are driven to do in spite of or because of are a breeding ground to explore our own identities in a fantastical way. (also i love violence god and knowledge being the three types of homosexuality LMAO as it should be ♥ also perhaps it is quite ambitious but i’m very excited to see what you come up with, and how the resulting characters will interact with the world at large. (and thank you! i wanted to expand on it at some point but it kept rattling in my head so i just posted it as is. the space is not only safe to say it applies to these mcs, but i would argue that honestly, the baseline level of bloodshed in this universe almost makes it a foregone conclusion. if you are not here for solely malice, then the thread of masochism is inherent.) i’m curious if you’ve picked paths for your ocs yet, if even from the themes that you’ve gauged from each route, or possible dynamics?

haha! honestly, it’s flattering that you did think about them enough to peg them as anything, and unnamed is the best match! tiên would make for a terrible mc in a romance, though, even if it was tempered by horror. she simply does not have the traits in her to pursue anyone, and is actually a little dependent on people having the drive the pursue her, because on her own she will just remain as is. for her to be the protagonist of anything, i suspect it would simply be an outright horror where it ends with a dead world and the lonely reaper that brought about its end.  holiness/destruction is always a fun juxtaposition for me, especially if one is corrupting the holy through violence. i’ll bloody your altar just to bring you down to earth kind of thing. but tiên’s role as a nun is largely a thinly veiled disguise—it’s to help her get around and avoid questioning, but anyone who’s important knows who she is and anyone that isn’t is usually put off by her eerie, ghostlike disposition and terrifyingly tall stature anyway so she pretty much always avoids getting approached. i don’t think she spares a thought to a higher power—acknowledging them would mean yet another layer of injustice she’d have to swallow, a bitter pill that the world and those that might have been able to change it has failed her by strengthening her. her power is but her leash, in the end. as for other senobium clergy, i think they avoid her unless absolutely necessary. much of her social interactions are either the orders she gets and the bloodied kiss of death she shares with her victims, what counts as connection even though it’s an ending. tiên is a very isolated figure in that sense, and it’s not helped by how she isn’t very good at remembering people. most are simply a smear of features that cannot register, the world a watercolour painting that’s muddied and bleeding into each other.

(idk what it is about blood but it’s way too powerful lmfao. as a theme; a metaphor for strength, or connection; even visually. her blood is the most monstrous thing about her but it’s also the only thing capable of making her connect with people as well. she will not remember how you made her felt but only the vague gap of absence left behind. but if everyone is faceless, does that not at least make you a face?) and aww, thanks for asking! i actually have a slightly different timeline for tiên with an mc/lunari vs one that is less of the mc’s story. but with lunari (which could also work for an mc, i thought), she saw the potential in manipulating tiên to get access to the senobium. so they start that kind of tenuous relationship, only it’s very hard to manipulate someone that doesn’t want anything. tiên themselves, despite how hard she might be to approach, is surprisingly amenable to conversation—at the very least, she seems tolerant to being approached so long as you do not mind the lack of overt enthusiasm. (a carry over from her days as a test subject—she doesn’t have any particular boundaries nor does she socially tire, and responds to questions with an almost suspicious amount of candidness. but why would she lie, and why would anything be too private when she’s never learned of that privacy in her life?) also, to tiên, lunari is cute. which seems like a really slight detail, but it does matter when her own social interactions are usually so shallow or ephemeral that something like being endearing does make a difference. she’s not conscious of it, but she is the slightest bit warmer with people that remind her of small animals. not even to approach them—tiên is not an initiator—but if they continue approaching her, she is not opposed to it. at the very least, lunari incites curiosity in tiên and tiên’s contradictory nature slowly becomes lunari’s obsession. still, it is canonically a tragedy, and while they do end up in something romantic, lunari never learns to trust tiên completely—something that dooms them both. (and thank you!!! i’ll pass on the message haha, but know that i’m chewing right with you!)

[zarenillia]

I knew I was trans before I was aware trans was a thing. I attributed what I would later find as me being trans under "just another weird thing about me I'm experiencing alone". I grew up on the spectrum only knowing about it around the age of 10 onwards, and had up until then to find out plenty things I never told people because I knew nobody else experienced it.

I had to teach myself about so much that everyone around me just, understood. Sarcasm, idioms, I needed someone to break down the concept of empathy for me to obtain it.

Something really beautiful about this, is every subject about queerness, and what it means to be queer, made more sense the less effort I put into trying to understand it and simply accepting it. People actively are going against the "traditional definitions" of labels for groups, and I think that's great, perfect, wonderful. People should be free to identify with whatever helps them feel the best. And that's something I can only appreciate because I don't try to keep up, or understand, or define things the way I do everything else.

Queerphobic arguments very heavily rely on the concept that it's taught to young, impressionable minds, and yet I directly debunk that through my own personal discoveries, my own personal acknowledgements, that I found for myself. Someone may have said the name of a label someone can use, like being trans. But I had already taken its meaning in. I had already, though not fully comfortable expressing it externally, completely accepted what that meant for me, and what it meant in life to be yourself to the fullest extent.

My enemies cannot fathom my existence. They're too stuck trying to neatly categorize when every category in existence is flawed to some extent, and has some sort of exceptions.

As cruel as it seems, I'm glad that queerphobia is a thing, in as absurd and idiotic condition it is. My entire life I've been trying to catch up to my peers in terms of social knowledge. And now those same people are the ones who are unable to catch up themselves. I'm proud to think that, after so many years, I haunt their nightmares because they can't comprehend my intricacies the same way their countless social rules and standards did to me. It's a feeling I know I probably shouldn't have. Being happy people are against my very existence is a thing that sounds self-destructive, sounds like I hate myself too. I may hate certain circumstances I'm in, might find it frustrating when everything seems to be working against me in particular moments, but I love myself. I'm proud of how far I've come, ecstatic that I can become the person that I want to be. There's still steps ahead, and I'll use them to discover an even better version of myself to become. Me being glad the tables have turned between me and queerphobes is formed from bitterness and spite that, after every unjust experience I went through, between genuine trauma, to hatred and backlash for being trans, to the bullying, ridicule, and discrimination I faced for being autistic, I think I've earned at least a little bit. For every harsh thing that has happened to me, I hate my enemies, in every regard, and I relish the fact that my existence scares them to such great extents that my great, dark, unknown abyss tricks them into thinking they feel hate, instead of fear. But it is, fear. Most creatures are naturally inclined to feel it towards that which they do not understand. The fear of the unknown. What I faced every day of every year for so long, and what I will cherish that which tormented me, being tormented by in turn. Fear me, ye dim bastards, fear me with everything you have, for the only way you'll overcome me, is by joining the abyss you fear. And for those that can't, you will see me as your life starts to fade, ready to devour you forever.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Jeez. So much buzz about Color: Freedom. Do you think it might be a nice balance between self-reflection on gender norms and a lil spicy LGBTQ+ hint just to create some space for discussions and interpretations? Because gosh, people are shouting either THAT’S BAITING or HE’S BISEXUAL. Nothing in the middle 😌

I'll briefly talk about this because I'm saving a more detail analysis once I look into gender identity/sexuality/masculinity and Jimin.

You said something really important here which is the idea that the concept can create space for discussions and interpretations. Which is great. It should be like that. Except a debate on social media usually turns into something ugly because everyone thinks they know better, there is only one interpretation, the other camp is either projecting or dismissing. When in turn it shouldn't be like that. Unfortunately we are at a stage in which nuance is a notion long forgotten and rejected.

As to the subject at hand, well let me tell you. It's not that complicated if we remember this incredible thinking tool we have on our hands called semiotics. We all know about it, we all operate with it unconsciously even if we don't know the exact definition and its academic purposes. Because semiotics, to put it simply, is nothing but the study of signs and how they create meaning. The easiest and first example anyone gives is the one with the traffic lights. When it's red, we know we stop and if it's green, then it's good to go. The color green does not have in its core definition the meaning of being allowed to do something or able to continue, but it's a meaning that has been attributed to it due to social norms. Social norms that have to exist in a functional society. We attribute meanings to objects, signs and so on. We are in a constant process of decoding what we see around us and once we get familiar with a meaning that becomes unanimously acknowledged, the decoding process becomes instantenous. And why is it important to understand the purpose of semiotics? Because – and I found this really easy explanation somewhere – semiotics is a tool to ensure that intended meanings are unambigously understood by the person on the receiving end. That's why we all must know that a red at a traffic light means we need to stop and there is no room left for ambiguity. But, to nuance this discussion as well, cultural context is relevant here. A thumbs up can mean ok in most cultures, while in other situations it can have a different meaning. So we always need to keep in mind the bigger picture.

Now, why did I took this theoretical detour to answer your question? Because by using semiotics, it becomes much more easier in trying to decode and interpret the signs in the photoshoot. If a certain combination of colors are turned into a recognizable symbol for people part of a community, then the meaning of it is decoded based on that knowledge. To put it simply, it's fine and expected if some can interpret the colors in The Freedom photoshoot as being a symbol associated with bisexuality. At least. And then there are people who can come and say that they only thought the colors are pretty without thinking more about it. That means they didn't go through the process of decoding because they symbol is not universally acknowledged or is an essential part of every person's life, like the traffic light for example. But that doesn't mean that those who were able to decode it are just exaggerating or attributing some meaning to it that is supposedly non-existent.

The truth is, there were several ''symbols'' and markers throughout time until this photoshoot which add context that is adding to the possibility of looking at the photoshoot through the lens of self reflection on gender and sexual identity.

But the issue that I see now (without having yet the time to fully explore it) is that people need verbal confirmation. They refuse to use their semiotic skills in order to interpret what they see. It's either they're not confident in their interpretation or they refuse the possibility of that interpretation to be real, so they want a verbalized message. Otherwise they call it queerbating. Which in that sense, it shows that they don't really care about the person they are supposedly interested in. It's more about their satisfaction and confirmation and not the actual real life. And that can be frustrating because people should be allowed to express their thoughts on their identity however they want. And just because others can do it loudly, it doesn't mean everyone can.

Then there's also the moral standpoint reason which is when fans say that it's wrong to look at the photoshoot through that lens because it's projection on part of LGBTQ+ fans, and sexuality shouldn't be assumed. In one way or another (or multiple) we as humans, assume. We look at someone and through our own life experience and the markers we are able to identify and decode based on our personal knowledge, we end up assuming someone's sexuality. It's just that assuming someone is straight is considered by fans more morally acceptable, while assuming any other sexual identity is wrong.

But this last aspect also needs to be nuanced. Our perceptions that lead to us assuming can be influenced by stereotypes. Stereotypes do have a base in reality, but they are also used to make negative judgments about people.

We also need to take into consideration cultural differences. Which is a double-edged sword. Fans can use this argument in order to better understand that an artist from an East Asian country does not automatically align himself with Western understandings of queerness and its symbols, but it also doesn't mean he's completely oblivious in this very globalized world that combines elements and knowledge from different parts of the world (I mean, all those Koreans at Seoul Pride must know what a rainbow flag means, as they do use it. You understand my point?). And then there is the other side who uses this argument in order to create this image of the artist who is ignorant because of its cultural background. Because if he's not from a queer-friendly Western country, then first of all, he is not gay and second of all, he doesn't have the knowledge of the superior Western thinking. That's an orientalist point of view (which is harmful, in case it's not obvious).

The conclusion to all this is yes, there needs to be space for interpretation because we have the tools to do it. But we also have to be willing to do it. And not everyone wants to go there. Either they choose to be ignorant, or they don't have the appropriate knowledge and they don't want to learn, or it makes them uncomfortable. Fans like to to speak in the name of the artist they like so often, but they also fail in listening and paying attention when that artist tries to express himself the way he wants.

This is a very long discussion and quite a complicated one because it's a huge topic in the fandom. And I'm not referring only to this photo-folio, but the way fans see Jimin is something to be studied. I think it's hard for them to wrap their head around who this man is and what he tries to say. He's obvious and ambiguous at the same time, which is hard to stomach for those who need everything to be very clear and delivered in a digestible way.

[btschooseafic]

house of hope/chapter 26/trusting yourself and others

Pairing: OT7 x Reader, OT7 x OT7

Details: hybrid!bts, a/b/o dynamics, asexual!reader

Summary: Yoongi and Hoseok encounter some figures from their pasts.

Warnings:  The recognizable names and personalities do not reflect their real life counterparts. mild dissociation, referenced/past abuse, prejudice, possessive behavior, crying, self hatred, cheating mention, inaccurate depictions of the korean law system, corrupt law enforcement, injury [Masterlist] (4/20/22 edited the convo about mating for world building)

The last time you went to Dr. Cho’s clinic, it had been as a guardian and not a patient. You had been more focused on Taehyung at the time.

Now, you had nothing to focus on except the bouncing of your leg, the rubber of your sole squeaking against the floor.

You tried to focus on the squeak above the murmurs of all the conversations going on all at once in the waiting room.

“[F/N]?” Namjoon’s hand rested on your cheek as he turned your face towards him. He looked concerned. “They’re calling us.” You felt something at your ears, and blinked strongly as music started playing. Namjoon let out a breath, glancing at Jin, who was holding his phone, humming a bit as he scrolled through playlists. “Let me get you something cold to drink.”

‘Thank you,’ you mouthed at Jin, unable to get the words past your lips. He smiled ever so slightly.

“Interesting,” Dr. Cho said, after Namjoon finished his explanation of Taehyung’s project. “I have to admit, I did not think that was what you wanted to talk about, when you said you wanted to speak privately with me.”

“What did you think we wanted to talk about?” Namjoon wondered, taking a sip of your water.

“Mating or pregnancy,” Dr. Cho said.

Namjoon spit water out all over you. Your eyes widened. 
“Shit. I’m so sorry,” Namjoon said.

Jin was clearly trying not to laugh. You sighed.

“…My timing might not have been the best,” Dr. Cho thought.

You nodded, flicking water off of your hands. Dr. Cho handed you a paper towel. Namjoon took the paper towel from you and started dabbing at your shirt.

“Joon, it’s fine.” You pushed him away. He frowned.

“We did actually want to talk about mating as well,” Seokjin told Dr. Cho. “We know that it’s possible for humans and hybrids to mate, but… I’m concerned about…” He frowned. “Is [F/N]-ssi’s privacy protected by patient privacy laws as well?”

“Only my patients are protected by those laws,” Dr. Cho said. “However, I do see human patients as well.” She looked at you. “I could pull up some forms for you to sign, if you’re interested.”

"There doesn't seem to be much information available regarding hybrid-human mate bonds," Jin said, after you signed. Namjoon nodded.

"Most of the material I found was on pack bonds, and that certainly wasn't... extensive."

"There is not a lot of professional study on human-hybrid bonds," Dr. Cho agreed. "Mating bonds in general are difficult to analyze, due to the heavily psychological nature of the relationship, which, I would like to point out, is not my area of focus." Namjoon nodded. "I must also acknowledge what I consider to be a breach in Medical Ethics involving the studies on hybrid-hybrid mating bonds, given that these individuals are rarely able to consent to being studied in the first place." Jin grimaced. "In the case of human-hybrid bonds, the humans are able to choose to refuse to be studied, and I do not blame them if they do. It makes sense to me that individuals with bonds that are considered... against the norm, might be uncomfortable with scientists poking into their relationships." You nodded. "So, I don't have extensive knowledge on the subject either. However, I can do my best to answer any of your questions, according to what knowledge and past experience I do have."

Jin nodded. "I was wondering... a bond usually goes two ways. However, [F/N]-ssi doesn't have the venom to complete her side of the bond," he said. Your brow furrowed. "So I was concerned that the bond might feel... incomplete, or unreciprocated. I understand that this might be a psychological issue, and not your area of expertise, but, as I'm sure you know, psychological issues often have a physiological impact, and I'm concerned that the impact could be... fatal, in this case."

You blinked. Both Jin and the doctor were using a lot of big words, so you were having a little trouble following, but it sounded like... "Wait, hold on, slow down—are you saying you could die because I can't reciprocate the bond?"

"I don't believe it would be the hybrids at risk, in this case," Dr. Cho said slowly.

"What do you mean?" Jin asked sharply.

"It's the venom," Dr. Cho said.

“Venom?” You questioned. “I'm not sure I understand that word."

"Here..." Namjoon typed a character into a translation app and showed it to you. You frowned.

"The book I read on mating bonds didn't say anything about venom."

“Most commonly available literature on the subject is a little… outdated,” Dr. Cho said, pursing her lips. “Medical journals are more current, but the language can be difficult to decipher, and frankly, dehumanizing towards those who are being discussed.”

“I would appreciate reading them anyway,” Jin said. “I’m used to the language.”

“I can send them to you, Seokjin-ssi,” Dr. Cho said. She looked at you. “The venom enters your system through the bite, and releases pheromones from your glands to let other hybrids know you’re claimed. This process continues as long as the mates live in close proximity to each other, and are continually exposed to each other's pheromones. If those pheromones are taken away, it can cause a shock to the body system that is painful, and sometimes fatal, although psychological factors can be argued as well."

"Would you rather die from a chemical withdrawal, or heartbreak?" Namjoon mused morosely.

"Neither!" Jin said. He turned to the doctor. "Do we know anything about how humans react to the venom?"

"Humans don’t have the same kind of scent glands as hybrids, but studies have shown that human sweat glands can act similarly in human-hybrid bonds. However, the cases of human-hybrid bonds that I’ve seen are extremely varied, so I couldn’t reliably predict how you would be affected," Dr. Cho told him apologetically. 

“We need more information,” Jin thought. “Doctor, is there anything we can do to mitigate the risks?”

“You could attempt to mate with a single partner at a time, with time in-between to see how your body reacts," Dr. Cho suggested. "However, there is a chance that it could be too much for your system." Namjoon frowned. "Why don’t we start by running some tests, doing a general evaluation on [F/N]-ssi’s health? As Seokjin-ssi said, more information would be helpful."

*

Later that night, Jin frowned down at his tablet, Namjoon’s arm wrapped around his shoulders as they huddled together reading what Dr. Cho had sent over.

Namjoon had a stack of medical and law dictionaries off to the side, and was taking notes on a koala patterned notepad.

“So, if I’m understanding this correctly, there is a risk with the venom, either with an initial reaction, or with a build up in her system,” Jin summarized. Yoongi leaned over the back of the armchair to get a peek at the tablet.

“This says venom build ups in ‘human subjects’ have been fatal in three out of ten cases,” Yoongi read.

“Almost thirty percent chance of death is already way too high,” Jimin thought. “And if the risk increases with every mate…” Taehyung made a worried noise.

“But, she can’t mate with some of us and not the others. We’re kind of a packaged deal.”

“It does feel like an all or nothing kind of thing,” you agreed. “But, as far as the risk… a lot of things can kill a person. People get run over by a car when they cross the street. You can’t protect me from everything.”

Yoongi grunted. “I know that. But mating isn’t a necessity.”

"It's not?" Taehyung's brow furrowed. "I really, really want to, though. I want [F/N]-noona to be closer to me, to feel what I feel."

"But, we wouldn't be able to feel her," Jimin pointed out. "That's... I don't know about that."

"Yeah, but, [F/N]-noona can't hear or smell as well as we can, so maybe that's fair," Jungkook thought. "She can't smell our emotions like we can smell hers, but if we bonded, she'd be able to feel them— especially combined with the pack bond." Jimin tilted his head, considering.

"We do instinctively want to mate with those we feel a romantic attraction to... but not all instincts have to be followed," Namjoon thought.

“There’s more to life than just necessities,” you thought. “What if it makes us happy?”

“Is the chance of happiness worth the risk?” Yoongi wondered.

Jin sighed. “It’s hard to measure the risk, considering how little data we have on human-hybrid bonds, and then, factoring in the unique chemical reactions of an individual…”

“So, the safest thing would be just not to mate with any of us,” Namjoon thought. "And... I agree about the whole packaged deal thing. If [F/N]-yah doesn't mate with everyone, then... neither will I." Everyone frowned.

“Putting aside the matter of the venom for now—” you said.

“That’s a big thing to put aside,” Namjoon grumbled.

“—I did want to clarify if there had to be sex involved, or not,” you continued. “I, um, asked Harin-unnie about it, and she said she wasn’t sure.”

“It doesn’t have to be involved,” Taehyung responded. “I bonded with Jiminie and with Jin-hyung without. Cause that’s what felt right in the moment, you know? We just… we talked about it, and cuddled a bit, and then gave each other the bite.” Jimin hummed, tugging the collar of Taehyung’s shirt aside to trace at one of the marks on his shoulder. Taehyung shuddered, smiling.

“I think what’s important is the intimacy and intent,” Jin said. “The pack bond can be accidental, cause it might happen if you only want it subconsciously, but the mating bond… you have to, like, actively want it.”

“I do want it,” you said. “To be able to have that kind of connection with you… it sounds amazing to me. But if you don’t want it—any of you…” You looked at Namjoon, who avoided eye contact. “Then I’ll forget about it.”

“This isn’t a decision we have to make right now,” Hoseok thought. “You still have some blood tests you’re waiting to get the results back on, right?” You nodded. “Let’s talk about it again then. It isn’t something we should rush either, so… let’s take time to think about it.”

*

You and Jungkook were sitting at the desk in your room so he could show you the photos from your trip on Minho’s large desktop screen.

You clapped your hands together. “This shot is amazing!”

It was an image of Jimin leaping in front of the bonfire, the orange glow outlining the curves of his body.

“…Eh, it’s not bad,” Jungkook said. “Mostly because Jiminie-hyung is so pretty, I think.”

“But, he’s always gorgeous,” you thought. “This shows a lot of your talent as well.”

“Actually,” Jungkook said. “He’s second best after Seokjin-hyung at making funny faces, so I wouldn’t say he’s always gorgeous, but he is definitely always adorable—just don’t tell him I said that, he weaponizes his cuteness enough already.” You nodded seriously.

“I’m gonna tell him.”

“What? No, noona—come on!” He shoved you when you started laughing. Someone knocked on your half open door. Jungkook’s nose twitched. “It’s Yoongi-hyung.”

“Come in!” You called out. Yoongi slipped into the room. Jungkook frowned, turning in his chair.

“Hyung?” Jungkook’s tone was concerned. Yoongi’s face was neutral, but his ears and tail were drooping.

“I invited Jo-hyung over for dinner,” Yoongi said to you. “I wanted him to be present during the pack meeting tonight, so, I thought… dinner first.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “There’s something important you want to talk about? Something that he has to be present for?”

Yoongi nodded.

“Okay,” you said. “Thanks for letting me know. Hmm. I wonder if he has an allergies?”

“He doesn’t,” Yoongi said. “I asked. I’m going to cook, though, so you don’t need to worry about it.”

“Hyung.” Jungkook motioned him over.

Yoongi blinked at him. “Yeah?”

Jungkook just continued to look at him imploringly. Yoongi sighed, but came closer regardless. Jungkook took his hand and squeezed. He leaned up to give Yoongi a kiss while patting his chest with his free hand. Yoongi squirmed, and then settled, sighing again and resting his forehead against Jungkook’s.

They stayed like that for a moment, and then Yoongi straightened up, studying you.

“Yoongi? What’s up?” You wondered.

“You’re… not going to ask what it is I want to talk to Jo-hyung about?”

“I, um, kind of got the vibe that you didn’t want me to ask, but maybe I shouldn’t have assumed… maybe I should ask if you want me to ask?” Your brow furrowed. “Ugh, now I’m just confusing myself.” Jungkook laughed, propping his legs up on your chair and inching his feet under your thigh. You shrugged. “Well, it’s fine. I trust that you’ll let me know what you need.”

Yoongi shook his head, smiling slightly.

*

During dinner, Jo sighed and refused the glass of wine Jin offered.

“I’m, ah, technically working so…” Jo glanced at Yoongi. Jin frowned. “But!” Jungkook jerked slightly at his voice, having been spacing out. “Unrelated to that—look at this!” He held up a small purple heart that hung from braided red thread.

Hoseok smiled. “It’s cute, hyung.”

“…What is it?” Yoongi wondered.

“It’s a good luck charm for finding love,” Jo told him.

Namjoon sighed. “Hyung… I thought you were really trying to take a break from dating this time.”

“I tried, and failed.” Jo grimaced and tucked the charm back into his pocket.

“Why do you want a relationship so badly?” Jimin wondered.

“Wow,” Jungkook said dryly. “Thanks.” Jimin rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean. There are a lot of other important parts of life.”

“You’re not wrong,” Jo said. “But it’s hard to take that seriously coming from the man who has six boyfriends and a girlfriend.” Jimin flushed. He cleared his throat.

“Look at it a different way,” he said. “Because I have a lot of romantic relationships, isn’t it even more important for me to find fulfillment in other aspects of life? Yes, there is less of chance of me leaning too heavily on any one person, but as a whole I might rely on my romantic relationships too heavily, simply because there are more people, so it takes up more time.” Namjoon nodded.

“You mean it wouldn’t be balanced?” Jo wondered. Jimin nodded.

Taehyung tapped at his chin. “What’s the expression—don’t put your chickens in a basket?”

Jimin’s lips twitched. “You’re combining two different sayings, Taehyungie.”

“Eh?” Taehyung frowned. “I was sure that was it. Like… it sounds too chaotic, putting chickens in a basket. They would probably peck you and try to escape—I don’t know, I don’t have too much experience with chickens—I mean, I’ve eaten a lot of chicken, but… oh!” He clapped his hands together. “Maybe you’re supposed to put the chicken in the basket after it dies? Like, a shopping basket in a supermarket?”

Jungkook stared at him.

Hoseok’s brow furrowed. “Is it… don’t put all your eggs in one basket?”

You nodded. “That’s one of them.”

“It means you shouldn’t put all of your time and effort into any one thing, because if you lose that thing, you lose everything,” Namjoon explained.

“And the other one is: don’t count your chickens before they hatch,” you continued. “Which means… you can’t plan ahead for everything. Unexpected things happen sometimes.”

“That’s… true,” Jo said, glancing at Yoongi again.

“Yoongi-yah,” Jin said. Yoongi stiffened.

“Yeah, hyung?”


“Should we make dakgalbi tomorrow?”

Yoongi let out a breath. “I don’t know, hyung. Let’s not plan that far ahead.”

*

For about five minutes, you tried very hard not to watch Yoongi tear apart his cuticles with his teeth.

“Okay.” Jin pulled Yoongi’s hand out of his mouth. “That’s enough of that.”

“If you don’t want to talk about… whatever it is, we don’t have to,” Jimin said, pressing close against Yoongi’s other side.

Yoongi grunted. “I can’t just… not talk about it, unfortunately.”


“Do you want me to start?” Jo offered. Yoongi tilted his head and then nodded. “Okay!” Jo slapped his thighs and sat up a little straighter. “When Minho-ssi got word Bangtan Shelter was closing, he did some research into your families, to see if there was anyone who could take you in.” Namjoon’s brow furrowed.

Jimin looked at him. “Something wrong, Namjoonie?”

“He never asked for my help,” Namjoon said. “Uncle was a great researcher, but two heads are better than one… we usually worked together.” You held out your hand. Namjoon eyed it.

“I’m sure there was a reason he didn’t ask you,” Hoseok thought.

Jo nodded. “The news about Bangtan Shelter came shortly after Minho-ssi’s found out that his cancer had progressed to an untreatable stage,” he continued. Namjoon intertwined his fingers with yours, letting out a long breath. “The timing… he was working hard to make sure that the last few residents at House of Hope found alternative housing. He wasn’t planning on taking on other residents, but the Bangtan Shelter pack was a special case. A double bonded pack… Minho-ssi couldn’t leave people in need. It was a last minute decision to take in your pack, which meant he didn’t have as much time to research as he would have had normally. I had been busy as well, wrapping up his affairs. However, once I had the time, I decided to continue his research.”

“But, Jo-hyung…” Jimin frowned. “The trial period ended a long time ago. We already decided to stay here… together with Namjoon-hyung and [F/N]-noona, so… why would you keep looking into those things?”

“In case you ever wanted to know about where you came from,” Jo said. Jimin made a noncommittal noise and hid his face against Yoongi’s shoulder.

Namjoon dipped his head. “I’m sorry, hyung. I should’ve considered… I should have offered to help.”

You chewed at your lip. You had spoken to a few hybrid foster homes before the trial period had ended, but you had never thought about looking for their families. You hadn’t read into those parts of their files, thinking it might be too personal. Was that wrong?

“I think it’s better that you didn’t,” Jo said. “Namjoonie… even before you became part of their pack, or started dating them… it was clear to me that your relationship with this pack would be different than your relationship with previous residents.” Namjoon flushed. Jin smiled smugly and reached down to ruffle his hair. “Therefore, I think it makes more sense for me to look into these matters, which can be of a sensitive nature. Certain things it’s better to look at through the lens of a professional, rather than a loved one.” Jin’s smile fell.

“Why are you bringing this up now?” He asked. “Did you find something…of a sensitive nature?” Jo nodded.

“I found some information about a few of the families… I was planning on waiting to tell you until I found more, because I didn’t want anyone to feel left out, but then Yoongi-yah reached out to me and asked if I could look for his brother.”

Everyone looked at Yoongi.

“…You’ve never wanted to before,” Hoseok said. “What changed your mind?”

“Well, it’s… Bangtan did a lot for us, but it was never that… sturdy,” Yoongi said. “For years I was waiting on edge, thinking we could be kicked out at any moment. But… it’s different here.” Namjoon smiled softly. “Also… Jo-hyung did a really good job helping track down Namjoon-ah’s pack members who Kyungmin-ah couldn’t get in touch with. So, I thought, if he was able to find them… maybe he could find my brother.”

“Aw,” Jo said, grinning. “Thanks, Yoongi-yah.”

“Then, did you—find his brother, I mean?” Jin asked.

Jo’s expression turned serious. “I found a possible lead, which, I would like to discuss with everyone, but there was other information I wanted to share first… about Seokjin-ah’s parents, and Jungkook-ah’s parents.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened.

“But Jin-hyung’s parents passed away… You mean, his biological parents?” Taehyung asked. Jo nodded, eyeing Jin.

Jin’s lips twitched into a weak smile.

“It’s alright Jo-yah!” Jin said. “I already know about my biological parents, so, no need to stress out about telling me!”

Taehyung’s brow furrowed. “You knew and you never said anything?”

“Tae,” you said quietly. “He doesn’t have to tell us.” Taehyung’s cheeks puffed up as his lips pressed into a thin line.

Jin shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

Hoseok frowned. “Jin-ah… if it really doesn’t bother you, that’s… that’s fine, but please be aware that, for some of us, news of our parents would be a very big deal.”

“I’m sorry.” Jin’s shoulders slumped. “I didn’t mean to make it seem like…” He let out a breath. “It’s… I could tell you about it, if you want to know.”

Taehyung reached up and squeezed Jin’s hand.

“Only if you don’t mind telling us,” Jimin said gently.

“I really don’t mind,” Jin said. “It’s a little sad, but… definitely not the worst that could happen.” He took a deep breath. “So, actually, the first time I heard about my biological parents was when I was ten. My… my human parents asked if I wanted to meet them. I was… well, I was a bit of a spoiled brat, really, so I got… upset at the reminder that Kim Chunja and Kim Sangchul were not my… you know, real parents, and threw a fit.”

“That’s actually a fairly common response adopted children have to that question,” Jo remarked. “The fact that they asked you, and you responded like that… it sounds like you had a lot of love for each other.”

Jin shrugged again, but his eyes were a little watery this time.

“You said the first time you heard about them,” Namjoon said. “So… you heard about them again?” Jin nodded.

“During the inheritance dispute. One of my ‘brothers’ was trying to sell me to the family that owns my biological parents so they could ‘own the full set’ I think his words were.”

“… Another reason to improve my punching skills, in case I ever meet those ‘siblings’ of yours,” Jimin mused. Jo raised an eyebrow. Jungkook shuddered violently. Taehyung rubbed his back. Jimin shot Jungkook an apologetic look.

“I would prefer you never went anywhere near them,” Jin said stiffly. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, last I heard, my biological parents were still owned by that same family.”

Jo scrolled through his phone. “A wealthy family in China seems to have owned them since they were both teenagers. They were purchased from a Korean hybrid export company. Their mate bond is recorded in China’s Association for Rare Hybrid Lineage Tracing.”

Your brow furrowed. “Lineage?”


“Your family line,” Namjoon translated. “Lineage tracing is common in many Eastern countries, for both humans and hybrids—well, depending on the type of hybrid.”

“Turkish Angora DNA is difficult to fuse with human DNA, apparently,” Jin said, studying his fingernails. “So it makes sense that lineage would be recorded, to prove authenticity, or whatever…”

“Seokjin-ah’s birth was recorded as well,” Jo continued. “Around the time of his birth, the family was going through some financial difficulties and chose to sell you, although they seem to have made their money back since then. I had an email from their secretary asking if Seokjin-ah was, ah, what was his wording?— still on the market.”

“He’s not,” Jimin hissed, climbing over Yoongi to sit on Jin’s lap, pinning him to the couch as if shielding him from the world. “They can’t take you. You’re mine. We chose each other.”

“That’s right!” Jin laughed, wrapping his arms around him. “We chose each other. I’m yours.”

“Ours,” Yoongi corrected him, taking his hand and scenting his wrist. Jimin hummed in agreement and nuzzled at Jin’s neck.

The room settled into silence for a moment.

“Jo-hyung…” Taehyung leaned around the coffee table to look at him. “Are they… do you think they’re treated alright, Seokjin-hyung’s biological parents?” Jin swallowed.

“I don’t have many connections in China,” Jo said apologetically. “I did email a bit more with the secretary. I asked if the family would be willing to sell Jin-ah’s parents.” You looked at him questioningly. “In the past, HFH has sometimes raised money to remove hybrids from certain places.” Jin’s ears twitched. “However the secretary said the family is ‘very attached’ to their hybrids and are not interested in selling at this time.” The room fell silent for a moment.

“…And what about Jungkookie’s parents?” Taehyung asked.

“Oh.” Jungkook’s ears stood up. “I…” His eyes flickered around the room.

“Do you want to hear about it?” Jo asked gently. “We could speak in private, if you’d prefer that.”

Jungkook shook his head wildly. “No, I… I’d rather b-be with everyone.” He bit his lip and then took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay, hyung, you can tell me.”

“Both your mother and father have passed away,” Jo said. “I have records from the breeding center.” Yoongi sucked air through his teeth.

“Okay,” Jungkook said, watching Yoongi closely. “That’s… that’s okay.”

Taehyung frowned. “It… it doesn’t have to be okay, Kookie. Breeding centers are…” He looked at Namjoon. “Are they as bad as they say?”

Namjoon nodded sharply. “I wish I could say they weren’t, but the reputation is… deserved.” He tightened his grip on your hand.

You had read articles about breeding centers, where the hybrids were always either pumped full of hormones to live in perpetual mating cycles, or pregnant. The body couldn’t keep up so these hybrids often died young. Hybrid Rights Activists had been trying to get breeding centers abolished for years, but while there was still such a high demand for hybrids, the breeding centers continued to be the supply.

Jungkook laughed shakily. “They always told me that’s where I’d end up.” Everyone stiffened.

“We wouldn’t let that happen,” Hoseok said, his face paling as his fists clenched in his lap. Jungkook shrugged.

“This was before we met.”

Namjoon frowned. “There are laws against Hybrid minors being sold to—“

“Do you really think the people who run the mills give a fuck about the law?” Jungkook interrupted. Nausea twisted in your stomach. “The whole appeal of the mills is supposed to be we’re cute little kits. So, you can imagine, Flemish Giants aren’t too popular with their kind of clients. My handlers always told me I grew too quickly.”

“Bullshit!” Yoongi said. “You were so small when we met you!” Jin frowned.

“Yoongi-hyung kept sneaking him extra food,” Hoseok recalled fondly. Jin’s expression softened a little.

Jungkook smiled. “Now I eat as much as I want and work out as much as I want and no one can tell me not to.”

Jin choked out a laugh.

“Jungkook-ah.” Taehyung wrapped his arms around him. “I’m sorry if I was pushy about hearing what Jo-hyung found.”

Jungkook patted his arm. “I always kind of assumed they were at the centers, cause… that’s mostly where the mills got their kits from. For a moment I thought… I thought maybe I’d be better off not knowing what happened to them, but then I thought… maybe that’s too selfish.”

“I’ve told you,” Jimin said quietly. “It’s okay to be selfish sometimes.”

“I don’t know if I would call it selfish,” Namjoon said. “Your parents… I would hope that they would want you to… to look after your health. To spend too much time thinking about something like that… might not be the healthiest. So, if you can… don’t dwell on it. I hope that knowing might bring you some closure.” Jungkook made an uncertain noise and buried his face against Taehyung’s neck.

Taehyung played with Jungkook’s hair, frowning. “I… I’ve thought about it, a lot,” Taehyung admitted.

“About your biological parents?” Jin asked. Taehyung nodded. He looked at Jo.

“You didn’t find anything?”

“Not yet,” Jo said. “I’m sorry.” Taehyung shook his head.

“It wouldn’t be easy, to find them. It could be impossible.”

“If there’s any information you have,” Jo said. “Anything that could help…”

“Mom and dad found me in a field. So, I think it’s very likely my biological parents were wild hybrids, and lived and died in the wild,” Taehyung said. “I mean, you saw the farm. We’re not too close to the city. We’re not too close to anything, really. But there are still cars that pass by, and hunters…”

Namjoon made an understanding noise. You looked at him.

“There are a lot of reported incidents of… how much did you read about shifting, [F/N]?”

“… Hybrids shift to their full animal form when they’re weakened physically or emotionally, as sort of a protective instinct,” you recalled. Namjoon nodded.

“Yes, but there’s the opposite as well. In the wild, hybrids spend a lot of time in their animal forms. But when we die, our bodies shift back to our human forms. Scientists aren’t sure why—maybe because the larger portion of our DNA is human?” He shrugged. “Regardless, there are a lot of incidents of animals being shot by hunters, or run over by cars only to…”

“Right.” Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut. “So, that’s probably what happened.” Jungkook tightened his grip on Taehyung’s waist. You reached over and wiped the tears from Taehyung’s cheeks. He smiled shakily at you. “Ah, but… if they could be found…” He looked at Jo. “I’m sorry Jo-hyung, I don’t really have any information to help you look, so I don’t know if it’s possible or not.”

“Me too,” Hoseok said after a moment. “I… I don’t know who left me on Bangtan’s doorstep, so, there’s no information I could really give you, but if you could look, Jo-hyung… I would be grateful.”

“I can’t promise I’ll find anything,” Jo said. “But I can promise you I will do my best to look.”

“…Thank you,” Hoseok said hoarsely.

“Jimin-ah…” Jo looked at him. “Do you want me to keep looking for any of your family members as well?”

Jimin hummed, eyeing the ceiling like it held the answers.

“The people who I came from… it probably wasn’t their fault, that I ended up in the showcase. Hybrid parents rarely get to keep their kids, and even if they do, those circumstances are probably not the greatest either.” Jimin clenched and unclenched the fabric of Jin’s shirt. “So… it’s not as if I hold any resentment towards them, but I don’t have any feelings of fondness either. If I came across them… they would be strangers that I might like to get to know, but… I don’t feel the need to actively search. But, anyway…” He rubbed his face a bit and let out a breath. “Everyone’s different. The others asked, so I’m glad they have the chance… and Yoongi-hyung asked first— Jo-hyung, you said you had a lead?”

“Son Sungwon somehow heard that you were looking for your brother,” Jo told Yoongi. Hoseok growled. Jungkook stared at him. “He says he’s got information for you.”

“Damn.” Yoongi’s eyes widened. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He always had good connections. You have to, if you’re running that kind of business.”

“Is that the name of…?” Jimin bit his lip. Yoongi nodded. You looked at him questioningly.

“The boss of the ring I fought in,” he said. You swallowed. “I guess the boss might have some information, since he did buy me from the showcase, but there’s no way he’s offering that information out of the kindness of his own heart, and it’s just as likely he’s lying. What does he get out of it?”

“…He just got approval on his appeal,” Jo said after a moment. Yoongi sucked in a breath. “His case is going back to court.”

Namjoon frowned. “Don’t tell me he wants Yoongi-hyung to testify?”

Jo nodded.

“No,” Hoseok said sharply. 
“I don’t understand,” Taehyung said. “Why would that man want Yoongi-hyung to…? Hyung worked hard to testify against him.”

Yoongi shrugged. “It’s nothing special really. Most of us did something like that.”

You made a questioning noise.

“Bangtan Shelter had a reputation for taking in ‘risky’ cases, like hybrids who were testifying against their previous owners,”  Namjoon explained.

“They all did, except for me,” Hoseok said, his brow furrowed. Jungkook reached over to rub his knee. Hoseok let out a breath.

“Yoongi-yah testified against Son Sungwon last time, so going back on his statement could go a long way for him,” Jo explained.

Yoongi threw his head back and laughed. “Fuck that fucking piece of shit and the fucking shitty justice system.”

“Maybe we should start a curse jar,” Jin mused. “Yoongi-yah could pay for groceries.” Yoongi glared at him, but his lips twitched slightly. “Kitten…” Jin’s expression turned serious as he gently cupped the side of Yoongi’s face, turning his head to look him in the eye. “Talk to me. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“The boss really thinks highly of me, doesn’t he? What kind of shithead would I be to put a man like him back on the streets just because he might have information on my brother?”

“Bad men often expect others to be just as bad as they are,” Namjoon thought. He looked at Jo. “Can they force him to testify?”

Jo frowned. “I’m looking into it. I think it depends on whether his owner agrees or not.”

“Okay,” you said, rubbing your sweaty palms against your pants. “So me and Soon will say we don’t want him to testify.”

“But what if I want to?” Yoongi asked. You stared at him. “What if I want to testify, against him?” 

“Seriously?” Hoseok said. “Yoongi-yah, testifying was.. it seemed to take a lot out of you. Wasn’t going through all that once enough?”

“Apparently not,” Yoongi snapped. “If they’re thinking of letting him out again.” Hoseok whimpered. Yoongi sighed. “Hoseok-ah, it’s the least I can do.”

Jimin nodded slowly. “Yoongi-hyung, I understand. You know I do. But… you said it yourself, that man has good connections. Hoseok-hyung isn’t wrong to be worried.”

“To be honest,” Taehyung said. “I hesitated a lot, about testifying. Yoongi-hyung was so helpful, helping us run through our statements, telling us what to expect at court. That’s how I knew he put a lot of work into his own testimony.”

Yoongi shook his head. “We did what we had to. That’s that.”

“It’s not that simple,” Jimin disagreed. “It was scary. Taehyungie was so brave. He wanted to immediately, but then… they made threats against his family.”

Your eyes widened.

“That’s part of the reason I never went back to the farm, until recently,” Taehyung said to you.

Jimin frowned. “I understand it was risky, at the time, but you missed them so much… they still could’ve made more of an effort to at least visit you.”

Taehyung smiled. “I understood. But, now we have even larger of a family to worry about, Jiminie.”

“That is true…” Jimin looked around at all of you.

Yoongi’s face scrunched up. “It’s… it’s possible, he could threaten you. If staying quiet would keep you safe… In my opinion, setting him free would put everyone at risk—the pack, the general public, everyone. Still…” He looked around. “If you tell me not to—I won’t.”

“… This isn’t the first time I’ve been in this sort of position,” Namjoon said after a moment. “We do have safety measures in place, if that makes anyone feel better. The location of this house isn’t well known, and Jo-hyung has a good amount of connections, people who will let him know if… if certain people are talking. Overall, I think it should be Yoongi-hyung’s decision, whether or not he testifies, but I understand if anyone thinks differently.”

“No.” Jimin let out a breath. “You’re right. It should be his choice.” Hoseok nodded stiffly. Jungkook shuffled over to hug him from behind.

“Good thing we’ve been brushing up on our self defense,” Jungkook muttered, tucking his chin over Hoseok’s shoulder. Taehyung hummed and reached over to brush Jungkook’s hair out of his face.

“Eh, we got through it last time, might as well tempt fate again,” Jin said. Yoongi’s brow furrowed. “Don’t look at me like that, Yoongi-yah. I won’t pretend I’m happy about it, but I knew when I fell in love with you that you’re the kind of person who makes stupidly noble decisions.”

Yoongi flushed slightly and then looked at you.

“You’re being awfully quiet there, kitten.”

“If this is what you want, I’ll support you… I can’t pretend I’m not worried about your safety, and your mental health…”

Yoongi grimaced. “Yeah, I’ll watch my back. As for the mental health…” He shrugged. “I’m used to dealing with all this…” He motioned at his head. “I can handle it.”

“I know you can,” you said. “But, you don’t have to do it alone.” Yoongi smiled hesitantly.

*

Leading up to the trial date, Jungkook and Jimin were constantly sparring in the backyard. Yoongi had given them pointers, but was spending a lot of time with Jo, working on his testimony.

When you were around, you hovered with the first aide kit Jin had restocked.

Once a week, you drove Yoongi and Namjoon down to the pack grounds so Yoongi could practice his transformations with Sanghoon.

Hoseok sent you series of selfies with an anxious smile, Jungkook and Jimin wrestling in the background as Taehyung cheered. Jin wanted pictures of Yoongi’s animal form, but Yoongi wouldn’t let you anywhere near him while he was practicing transforming.

“Last time, they tried to rile me up, get me to transform in court, to get my testimony discounted,” he explained to you. “It would’ve worked, but I had already pack bonded with Hoseok-ah, and he made me feel… he made me feel more stable than I’d ever felt before.”

“And now you have even more of us to keep you grounded,” Namjoon pointed out. Yoongi nodded.

“Still, the practice can’t hurt.”

During the day you caught up with Hawon and Kyungmin. The early mornings and late nights were left for you and Yoongi and Namjoon. You drove into sunrises and sunsets, philosophizing over the meaning of life in-between singing along to playlists the others sent to the group chat.

Jin sent a playlist entirely made up of cartoon theme songs. You and Namjoon exchanged a bemused look as Yoongi sang at the top of his lungs.

“What?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “You’ve never watched that show?” You and Namjoon shook your heads. “It’s a classic.”

“I’m American,” you reminded him.
“I grew up in the woods,” Namjoon added. “And then I was homeless. And then I was too busy working.”

“… Well, yeah, I didn’t really grow up with access to a TV either,” Yoongi admitted. “But Seokjin-hyung grew up spoiled, you know. He legitimately gasped when I said I’d never heard of it.” He imitated Jin’s dramatic noise of surprise. You and Namjoon laughed. “Hoseok-ah dug up some VHS tapes at Bangtan and hyung made me binge it with him. I think I might’ve fallen in love with him then—his loud laughter at jokes written for elementary school students. Does anyone enjoy life as much as Seokjin-hyung? Ah, really, he makes me want to be a better man.” The playlist ended, making an abrupt shift to Taehyung’s low fi mix. Namjoon cried during one of the songs and hid his face when Yoongi cooed.

“Stop teasing!” You admonished. “I thought you were trying to be a better man?”

“Yes, but my role model is Seokjin-hyung, and he 100% would’ve teased Namjoonie just now,” Yoongi argued. Namjoon sniffled and nodded.

“He would.”

“…I’ll stop if you really want me to,” Yoongi said in a softer voice. Namjoon shrugged.

“I don’t mind, not really. It feels good to cry with people I know won’t judge me.”

“I am judging you,” Yoongi said. “But not badly. Your vulnerability is both cute and admirable. It’s a kind of strength, being open like that. I’m not able to…”

“You’re both strong, in your own ways,” you said seriously. “I’ve enjoyed spending this time with you.” They smiled.

The only downside to your trips was that Yoongi and Soobin were arguing. Soobin wanted to testify against Son Sungwon as well, but Yoongi argued it was too dangerous for them.

“If you can do it, I don’t see why I can’t!”

“Soobinie, right now, he probably doesn’t even know you’re alive,” Yoongi said. “If you testify against him, he’ll know, and it’ll paint a target on your back.”

“I’m a hybrid in this world, I’ll always have a target on my back,” Soobin argued. “Anyway, you don’t have a say in this. I care about you, and respect your opinion, but in the end, this is my decision.”

*

A week before the trial, Jo told you that a new contact of his had come across some worrying information about Son Sungwon.

“They haven’t gone into detail yet. I think they want to tell me in person. We’re close to agreeing on a meeting.”

“I want to be there, when that meeting happens,.”

Jo reluctantly agreed to take you along when he met his source. You understood that it could be dangerous, which is why you hadn’t mentioned the meeting to the others.

It was date night at House of Hope when Jo arrived.

“Where is everyone?” He wondered looking around. You, Jin, and Namjoon were about to start your first round of karaoke.

“Hyung!” Namjoon flushed, hiding the microphone behind his back. “You’re supposed to warn us before you come over!”

Jin cackled.

“It’s date night,” you said, not elaborating. You trusted Jo, but it was better to not explicitly state to him that the others had gone out on their own. Plausible deniability, and all that.

“[F/N]…” Jo looked at you uncertainly. “That meeting you mentioned you wanted to attend… it’s happening tonight.” You stiffened.

“What meeting?” Namjoon asked immediately, his ears perking up. “Why are you two acting weird?”

“Hello~” Hoseok called out as he entered the house. “Did I smell Jo-hyung around?”

Namjoon blinked. “I thought you were with Jiminie and Tae?”

“They were being a little too energetic for me,” Hoseok said, waving his hand.

“For you?” Jo repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah, Hoseokie frequently backs out of dates, when they’re later in the day,” Jin informed him.

Hoseok pouted. “I get sleepy, so sue me.” He plopped down on your lap. You wrapped your arms around him.

“I’m not sure that’s a proper basis for that…” Jo was still eyeing you.

“What’s with the weird atmosphere?” Hoseok wondered.

You sighed. “Jo is going to meet someone to get some information about Yoongi—I’m going with him,” you admitted.

Namjoon’s brow furrowed. “Could be dangerous,” he thought. You chewed at your lip. “[F/N], why didn’t you mention this before now?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Of course we’re going to worry,” Hoseok said, pinching your cheek. “We care about you, remember?”

“Who is this person you’ll be meeting?” Jin asked Jo.

Jo grimaced. “I’m not sure, exactly, which is part of the danger. We’ve only communicated online so far, and their information has been good, but it still could be a trap of some kind.”

“Then maybe one of us should go with you,” Namjoon suggested. “So we can watch your back. If [F/N]-yah goes, she isn’t exactly the most… intimidating.” Hoseok raised an eyebrow at Namjoon, who was wearing Ryan themed pajamas.

“It depends who you’re meeting and where,” Jin thought. “If it’s a human Jo-yah is meeting, [F/N]-yah won’t be intimidating at all, it’s true, but she still might be a little intimidating if the person is a hybrid.”

“I’m not sure about that either,” Jo admitted.

“Is there anything you do know?” Jin wondered. Namjoon elbowed him.

“Ah, no, he’s got a point,” Jo thought. “I don’t have a lot of information, but here’s the name of the place where we’re meant to be meeting.” He handed a slip of paper to Jin, who was the closest. You, Namjoon, and Hoseok all leaned over Jin to get a look. “I looked it up, it’s a club. Rather exclusive, but I did manage to get myself and [F/N] on the list. I had to use Soonyoungie’s connections, actually—I hope this doesn’t fall back on her if it all goes south.”

Hoseok hummed. “It’s exclusive for humans, but not so much for hybrids. Still, I can understand why Soonyoung-noona’s connections would get you in. She has a reputation for being good to hybrids, so her vouching for someone would help them get on the list.”

“What do you mean?” Jo asked.

“It’s a common spot to meet heat or rut buddies,” Hoseok explained. “That’s why the humans are so heavily vetted. The owner is a good person who doesn’t want humans taking advantage of hybrids while they’re vulnerable…” He titled his head. “Well, at least, not to let them be taken advantage of any more than has already been agreed on by both parties beforehand.”

Jin frowned. “I’m guessing this was one of your spots back in the day?”

“You know I went clubbing a bit,” Hoseok said. “I even took you to a couple of places.”

“Not this one.”

“Well, like I said, this is a space for heat and rut buddies. After I met Yoongi-hyung, I wasn’t really interested in other people that way…” He tapped Jin on the nose. “Well, at least not until I met the rest of my future mates.” Jin laughed.

Jo sighed. “You guys are just too darn cute.” His phone rang. He glanced at it and frowned. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” He stepped out of the room. Namjoon’s ears twitched.

“Sweetheart.” Hoseok shuffled around so that you were on his lap instead. He looked at you sternly. “I’m not sure you should be going to that kind of place.”

“Because hyung’s going to be meeting someone potentially dangerous, or because people will probably solicit her?” Namjoon wondered.

“Because of both,” Hoseok said, pressing his lips together.

“I can handle it,” you assured them. “I’ve been out with Soonyoung before. I know how to say no to people, and I know what to do if people don’t take no for an answer.” Jin hissed. You glanced at him.

“If you have to go to that place, we should at least mark you up a bit,” he muttered. Namjoon’s eyebrows shot up. “What? She did say hickeys and bitting were on her maybe list!”

“Well, yeah, because it’s not something that has to feel too sexual for me,” you thought. “I don’t think it’s sexual all the time for Hoseok-ah either.”

“Well, no,” he agreed. “I’m just a bite-y person in general.”

“I’m aware,” Jin said, frowning and rubbing a spot on his arm. Hoseok grinned toothily. “Anyway, [F/N]-yah, that would detract a little attention from you and make me feel a little better about it, at least.” Namjoon frowned, looking up, one of his ears twitching. Jin tilted his head.

“Is something wrong with Jo?” You wondered.

“It’s Jowoon-ssi and Jaejin-ah,” Jo told Namjoon worriedly as he entered the room again.

“Jowoon-ssi is an older hybrid who lives with Jaejin-ssi, a human who has schizophrenia,” Namjoon explained.

“Joon-ah met Jowoon-ssi when they were both in emotional support hybrid classes. Unfortunately, Jowoon-ssi still has trouble sometimes when Jaejin-ah has episodes—mainly because the neighbors are ableist idiots and end up calling the cops… and then if Hybrid Control gets involved, of course, it gets even worse.” Jo ran his fingers through his hair, frowning. “Jowoon-ssi managed to call me, but I might be too late already. At best I’ll have to get bail them out again…”

“I should go with you,” Namjoon said, standing and wiping his palms on his pants. He frowned down at himself. “I should change. Ah, but Jo-hyung’s contact…”

“I could ask them to reschedule…” Jo said, his hair standing up as he continued messing with it. “But I haven’t met them yet—we’re still in the beginning process of building trust…”

“I’ll go,” Hoseok said, raising his hand, a determined expression on his face. You and Jo considered him uncertainly. Namjoon and Jin exchanged a look that you couldn’t read. “What?” Hoseok rested his hand on his hip, looking at Jin, his lips pressed together. “Don’t you trust me, hyung?”

“Is it a matter of trust?” Jin wondered aloud. “If it is, I trust you, definitely. It’s the rest of the world I have trouble with, sometimes…”

“We don’t have time for you to rage against the world right now, Seokjin-ah,” Hoseok said. “Jo-hyung and Namjoon-ah have to go help out those other people, and I will be going to get that information for Yoongi-hyung.”

“Okay, so I’ll go with you,” you reasoned. Hoseok frowned slightly.

“Then, I should stay here to explain the situation to the rest of the pack,” Jin thought. He sighed. “…I hate being a responsible adult.”

“But you’re not bad at it, actually,” Namjoon said, kissing him quick before moving out of the room. Jin gasped.

“Really? I’ve never been so insulted…”

*

“If you are going, you’ll have to change,” Hoseok told you. “Or else you’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

You ended up wearing the pants you had worn for your first date with Jungkook, with a t-shirt of Hoseok’s, and a long pair of boots Soonyoung had gotten you that you rarely wore, which Jin helped you lace up while Hoseok sucked and nibbled at your neck.

Jin’s nose twitched as he looked up at you.

“Wow, that’s strong. Yeah, I don’t think anyone will bother you with Hoseok-ah’s scent so strong on you.”

You turned. Hoseok reluctantly detached himself from you, giving you a questioning look. “And no one will bother Hoseok-ah either?”

Jin snorted. “Why do you think he wore such a wide neck shirt?”

At least three of his mating marks were proudly on display. Jin poked one with a grin. Hoseok flushed.

*

Hoseok frowned as he watched you peel off the scarf, gloves, hat, and giant fluffy fleece Jin had insisted you wear.

“It’s freezing out.”

“Uh-huh. But we’ve parked close by.” You folded your clothes, placed them on the floor, and then pulled open the door. Hoseok shivered as the chill sunk in.

“[F/N]-yah….”

“I can’t go into a club looking like an alpaca.”

Hoseok laughed. “Hey, I’ve met an alpaca hybrid at this very club… I get your point, though.” He unzipped his big puffy coat and tugged it off. “Let’s go.” The line stretched down the block. Hoseok ignored it, walking to the door and flashing the bouncer a smile. The tall man with a horn sticking out of his forehead squinted down at him. “Hey big guy. I haven’t been here in a while, but I should still be on the list. I’m Hoseok.” The bouncer scrolled through his phone for a moment.

“Not exactly an uncommon name,” he grunted. “Got some form of identification—someone who could vouch for you?”

Hoseok nodded. “I’ve met old man Cheolmin before. He called me Hobi.”

The bouncer raised an eyebrow at him. “Give me a sec.” He touched his earpiece. “Boss, some kid called Hobi says he knows you… Golden retriever? You sure? Yeah, okay.” He tapped his earpiece again and then nodded at Hoseok. “You’re good to go, kid. What about this one?” He indicated his head at you.

“She’s mine.” Hoseok slung his arm around your shoulders. “And her name should be on the list too.”


“Okay. Still gotta check her ID.”

You watched the neon sign above the door flicker on and off as the bouncer scanned your ID with an attachment on his phone and studied his screen carefully.

After a while he handed your ID back and ushered you both through the door.

The music pulsed in your ears, with an undercurrent of conversation and laughter. It was a huge room, some people standing at tables, or lounging near the bar, while the majority were crowded on the dance floor. It smelled like sweat and alcohol, and the ground stuck to the soles of your boots as you walked.

“Hobi-yah!” An older man with three earrings on his left ear walked up to the two of you. “Haven’t seen you around for ages—you grew up!”

“I would hope so.” Hoseok smiled a little nervously. “It’s been ten years, Cheolmin-ssi.”

“Ten years and you’ve forgotten to call me Uncle,” Cheolmin chided, shaking his finger.

“Shouldn’t I call you grandpa by now?” Hoseok shot back. Cheolmin threw his head back and laughed.

“Ah, but, really…” Cheolmin’s expression turned serious as he straightened up. “It is good to see you, Hoseok-ah. We should catch up, I’ll buy you a drink—now that you’re actually legal.” Cheolmin shot him a pointed look. Hoseok laughed. “And your friend…” Cheolmin turned to you.

“I’m [F/N].” You bowed slightly.

“My girlfriend,” Hoseok told him. “Actually, we’re here to meet someone. We’ve got one of the back rooms reserved under the name Tanaka.” Cheolmin’s eyebrows went up.

“I see. I won’t keep you, then. But take my number, so we can catch up some other time.” He held out a business card.

Hoseok took it with two hands, dipping his head. Cheolmin moved off again. Hoseok let out a breath, slipping the card into his pocket, and taking your hand. 
“The back rooms are, well, in the back. This way.” He pulled you along the edge of the dance floor.

You leaned your head up so that your mouth was close to his ear. “You came here a lot when you were younger?”

Hoseok shivered and shrugged. “A bit. Why do you ask?”

“Cheolmin-ssi… you seemed nervous talking to him.”


“He’s a good person.” Hoseok paused in front of the bathrooms to let a few women pass. “He’s the club owner. He really looks out for hybrids. But… he reminds me of a time of my life that I don’t like to think about too much. Not his fault, I just—“  He slipped his arm around your waist. You glanced at him, and followed his glaring gaze to a hybrid with pointed black ears and a little red dress.

“Are you looking for a third?” The woman in the red dress asked, tail flicking as she studied you.

“We’re not,” Hoseok growled. You tugged on his arm.

“Let’s go.”

*

Down the hall around the corner there was a row of red velvet curtains with numbers above them.

“The curtains block most of the sounds and scents,” Hoseok answered your curious look. “Hyung said room six.” His nose twitched and his brow furrowed. The curtains under Number 6 were pulled to the side, revealing a dimly lit room with a low table sandwiched between two burgundy couches.

As you approached, a gray haired hybrid stood abruptly, stepping in front of a red haired woman.

She popped her head around him.

“Hoseok?”

He swallowed. “Mijung.”

“Hoseok—it hasn’t been you Hyunsik-ah has been speaking with, has it?”

“Hyunsik?” Hoseok repeated uncertainly. The woman indicated her head at the man still hovering protectively in front of her. Hoseok glanced at the man before his eyes snapped back to her. He shook his head. “Ah, it’s—a friend of mine—he had an emergency, so I asked to come here instead, because I knew the club, and the information is about—about one of my mates, so…”

“One of…” Her eyes flickered down to the marks on his neck. “You have multiple mates.” He nodded jerkily. “And…?” She looked at you. Hoseok drew you closer to him, rubbing his cheek against yours as he continued to stare at her. The other man raised an eyebrow at him.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Hoseok said. “[F/N]. My potential mate.”

“Hi…” You waved a little awkwardly.

“That’s…” Mijung let out a breath and laughed. “It’s nice to meet you, [F/N]-ssi. I’m Song Mijung, and this is Hyunsik, my mate…” You heard Hoseok suck in a sharp breath. “Hoseok-ah…” She smiled at him. “I’m glad we both found someone.”

Hoseok let out a small, strangled laugh. You glanced worriedly at him.

“We can trust them?” Hyunsik asked Mijung.

“I trust Hoseok-ah,” Mijung said. Hoseok snorted.

“You never trusted me, Mijung-ssi,” he said. Her smile fell. “I thought I trusted you, but I was wrong. Maybe some part of me was always waiting for you to leave.” He shook his head. “Or maybe that had less to do with how little I trusted you, and more to do with how little I trust myself… but now…” He stuck his chin up, eyes blazing. “I have people who want to help me try and build that trust. I have people who will reassure me if I’m spiraling in my own head— who I trust to sit down and talk with me if they ever did want to leave.”

She grimaced. “Hoseok-ah. I never got a chance to apologize—“

“Save it,” Hoseok said. “I don’t want to hear it. All I want from you is the information about Yoongi-hyung’s trial.”

“You could be a little politer to her,” Hyunsik drawled. “Although, if you are who I expect you are… I can only guess at what you must be feeling right now.”

“Well, I’m feeling rather left out of the loop,” you commented.

“I’ll tell you later, [F/N],” Hoseok said, squeezing the back of your neck lightly. “What about that information, Hyunsik-ssi?”

“Better draw the curtains first,” Hyunsik said. Hoseok stepped back and jerked the curtains shut. Hyunsik sighed, slumping down onto the couch and picking up a beer from the table. Mijung hesitated for a moment and then sat next to him, picking up a glass of water. Her finger played with a bead of condensation. “Want a drink?” Hoseok shook his head.

“I told you—all I want is the information.”

“There’s talk that Son Sungwon has gotten himself involved with the Park gang,” Hyunsik said. “I can’t confirm if it’s true or not, but the rumors are everywhere in the fighting business right now, which means someone is spreading them—which means the Park gang doesn’t care about people knowing, which is… concerning. If Son Sungwon was either a valued asset, or uninvolved in their business, they would most likely shut the rumors down. The fact that they haven’t suggests he’s done something to get under their skin.”

“So?” Hoseok said, shoving his hands in his pockets. His shoulders were tense. You resisted the urge to reach out and rub them. Maybe later. Maybe he could teach you how to give massages like he did. “Son Sungwon is not a good person—why should I care if the Park gang decides to knock him off?” You frowned. Hoseok’s bluntness was more like Yoongi’s usual attitude than his own.

“Well,” Hyunsik said. “I’m assuming you don’t want your mate getting caught in the cross-hairs—anyway, even if it does turn out to be a rumor, it’d be good to give him a heads up.”

“I’ll do that,” Hoseok agreed. “Was that all?”

Hyunsik nodded. Hoseok pulled open the curtains and nudged you into the hall.

“Hoseok-ah,” Mijung called after him. “I really am sorry.”

*

When you stepped out of the club, your phone buzzed. It was Namjoon. ‘we were able to bail them out! ٩(^ᴗ^)۶ heading home soon. how’s it going with you two?’

‘ok, I think. we’re heading home too.’ Then you texted Jin, who told you that the others were back from their dates.

It was 1:30 in the morning. You watched Hoseok walk slightly in front of you. He ran his hand through his hair. The street lights glinted off of a ring he’d borrowed from Yoongi.

You reached out, but he shoved his hands in his pockets again. Your chest hurt.  Hurt. Hurt. It took a moment for you to realize that the tangle of anger and sadness wasn’t coming from you. You blinked. “You’re projecting.” The fury pulsed like a second heartbeat rushing in your ears.

Hoseok stopped walking, his eyes wide when he turned to you.

“Sorry.”

You shook your head. “I don’t mind. I do it all the time.”

“Yeah, but you’re still new to the pack bond. I try not to… my feelings are confusing enough to me, you shouldn’t have to deal with them.”

“If Jungkook-ah projected his emotions, would you tell him you didn’t want to deal with them?”

Hoseok frowned down at his sneakers. The smiley face Jimin had painted on the toe stared up at him. He sighed.

“It took months for me and Yoongi-hyung to stop throwing our emotions at each other. He’s got such a good poker face, I would’ve never known he hurt so deep. But you, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve.” He pulled at the sleeve of the shirt you were wearing (his shirt), one of his dimples making a brief appearance before it disappeared again. He ran his hand down your bare arm. He clicked his tongue. “You’re freezing. Let’s get into the car.” You turned on the car and the heat, gripping the steering wheel and flinching. “What’s wrong?”

“Hands are a little numb.” You shook out your wrists. Hoseok took your hands, rubbing them between his, breathing warmth onto your skin. “Thanks.” You switched on your lights, ready to pull out of the parking spot.

“Wait… Just—just give me a minute to get myself under control.”

“It’s okay to be angry.”

“I… maybe, but I don’t want to project and distract you while you’re driving.”

You nodded. “That’s fair. But we have time. I’ll wait however long you need me to,” you told him. He let out a long breath. Was it his pain you were feeling now, or your own?—maybe a combination of the two. “…Do you want to talk abut it?”

“Don’t want to burden you with my problems,” he muttered.

“What if I want to help you lighten your load?” You asked. His brow furrowed. He made a confused noise. “I want to know, if you’re okay to tell me.”

“Okay is…” He shrugged. “Maybe I’m not okay, I don’t know. I’m… I will be. It’s not my first instinct to want to… but I think… talking about it might be good for me. For us. Mijung never wanted to talk. She cheated on me for almost a month before finally gathering up the courage to break it off with me. I mean, I can kind of understand why she was like that.” He ran his hand over his face. “Did she look human to you?”

You blinked. “She’s not?”

“She’s half. Half human, half red panda hybrid…”

“Ah, the hair. I thought she’d dyed it.”

Hoseok shook his head. “Human-hybrid mixes normally they take after their hybrid parent in terms of looks, but some of them… Minjung’s hybrid genes are recessive, so she looks totally human. She has some hybrid tendencies, such as heats, nesting, and protective instincts, but other than that… anyway, she grew up with her human mother, and she spent most of her life passing as human. I can’t blame her for that. I just… it made her a very secretive person, you know? She never wanted to tell me about her hybrid half.”

“How did you find out?”

“She had pretty intense heats, and suppressants didn’t work that well on her. So she used to come to the club to look for partners. Some of the people she was with realized she was mixed, but most didn’t. I didn’t realize until she went into an omega drop after the first heat we spent together.”


“Omega drop?” You repeated. The term hadn’t come up in any of your orientation research.

Hoseok frowned. “I don’t think humans know that much about it…oh! Ah, that one scientist—the psychologist whose papers Namjoon-ah likes to read, he’s written a little about it.”

Your brow furrowed. “Yang Taehyun?”

Hoseok nodded. “His research is being used in that hybrid citizenship case, so Namjoon-ah was showing me some of it… anyway… yeah, he’s written at least one paper about omega drops. It’s when a hybrid experiences a moment of high vulnerability, usually combined with certain hormonal fluctuations, which causes a lot of crying and confusion, and…” His nose wrinkled. “It’s just, not nice. I’ve never experienced it myself, but the younger three have, and even Jin-hyung did once.”

“What can I do to help, if that ever happens again?”

“Hmm… make them feel safe as much as possible. Raise their blood sugar. Make sure they’re hydrated. Nesting helped Jiminie and Jungkookie, but Tae and Jin-hyung weren’t interested, so I guess, it depends on the person… Mijungie got really… I worried a lot about her. But we came up with a good system. I think that was part of the reason she didn’t break it off sooner. I took good care of her.”

“Did Mijung-ssi ever say why she…?”

Hoseok made a face. “Yeah, she, ah… the other guy, he was human. She was afraid, if she kept seeing me, it would become more obvious what she was. She wanted to keep hiding. I guess, that’s her decision, but if she loved me, shouldn’t she have at least told me?” He pressed the heel of his palm against his eye. “I should’ve guessed… I mean, I’m used to people leaving, but she hung on even after she didn’t want me, and that was almost more painful… And now, to see that she’s mated to, and openly going around with a hybrid…” He laughed bitterly. “I guess it was just me who wasn’t good enough for her, huh?”

“Not not good enough,” you said, frowning. “Maybe… maybe you weren’t right for each other, but there’s no way you weren’t good enough, Hoseok. You’re so good—“ He interrupted you with a tight hug.

“I’m really not,” he said into your ear. “But, still… thank you.”

“No,” you said, squeezing your arms around him. “Thank you for telling me. Thank you for trusting me.”

*

Taehyung was waiting at the door. His tail wagged. He jumped on Hoseok.

“Ugh, Tae, at least let me get my shoes off first!” But Hoseok was smiling as Taehyung rubbed his face against Hoseok’s. Hoseok tickled Taehyung’s sides. Taehyung squawked.

“We should be quiet, in case anyone is sleeping,” you thought.

“No one is,” Taehyung told you, moving on from Hoseok to scent you. “We wouldn’t—we wanted to make sure everything was okay. Hyung, you smell sad. Did you meet the informant? Is Yoongi-hyung going to be okay?”

“We met the informant,” Hoseok told him. “It’s not great news, but not completely unexpected.”

*

Hoseok didn’t mention Mijung to the others. You bit your lip, trying to focus on Yoongi instead.

“—worrying, but I still need to testify. Maybe we should take some precautions, though. [F/N]-yah needs to be there, but the rest of you can stay away from the courthouse.”


“Hyung!” Jimin frowned. “We’ve already told you we don’t care about threats they might make.”

“There would be other advantages to you staying away,” Yoongi thought. Taehyung frowned.

“Like what?”

Yoongi sucked in a breath. “There are things you don’t know—things that were done to me, things that I did.”

“…Sometimes,” Jin said slowly. “A wound gets infected. There’s, like, puss and stuff.” Taehyung made a disgusted face. “Just wait.” Jin patted his leg. “I’m trying to say something... it’s—there’s puss, and the infection might spread if you don’t lance it and clean it. It hurts. Afterwards, though, it heals better.” Namjoon gazed fondly at him. “Maybe…” Jin reached out and touched Yoongi’s head. “Maybe it’s time to clean this out.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed.

“So, you’re saying I’ve got puss in my brain?”

You snorted. “I’m really not enjoying this metaphor,” Taehyung commented.

“…Jo-hyung’s informant is mated to my ex-girlfriend,” Hoseok said suddenly.

Jimin fell out of his chair. He shot back up, wide eyed. “What?”

“She was there, at the club, with the ahjussi who snuck me my first beer as a teenager. It was painful to see them, to be reminded of a time I’d rather not think about,” Hoseok admitted. “So, I understand having things that… I didn’t want to even think about it, so I never told you about it. I thought it would feel worse telling you, but maybe…” He rubbed his chest. “Maybe there is a small sense of relief.”

“I’m not trying to dismiss your pain,” Yoongi said slowly. Jin squinted at him. “But, dating, sneaking a beer, that’s not—“

“You’re right,” Hoseok interrupted. “I—I shouldn’t have brought it up. Whatever you faced was much worse, I’m sure.”

Jungkook made a noise in the back of his throat. He pulled Hoseok’s legs sideways over his lap, nosing at his throat. Hoseok absentmindedly stroked Jungkook’s hair.

You sighed. “Hoseok-ah…”

“It’s not really fair to compare,” Namjoon thought. “Something that seems simple to one person could be traumatizing to another.”

“I’m just weak,” Hoseok said quietly. “I should be able to handle it. It’s stupid. I’m stupid. If I were stronger—ouch!” Jungkook had nipped at his neck. “What the hell, Kook?” Hoseok gripped his hair.

“Stop it,” Jungkook said. “I won’t let anyone talk about you like that, not even you.” Your lips twitched. Hoseok frowned.

Yoongi dipped his head. “Namjoonie’s right—Seok-ah, I worded that badly, I’m sorry.”

“Try again,” Jin said. “What are you trying to say, Yoongi-yah?”

“…I don’t want you to be disgusted with me,” Yoongi said in a small voice. You frowned. “You’re all such good people. The things I’ve done aren’t the actions of a good person.”

“Namjoon-ah drank strawberry flavored soju the other night, and I still love him,” Jin joked. Namjoon snorted.

“Strawberry soju aside,” Jimin said. “I’ve done plenty of legitimately disgusting things.” Yoongi blinked at him. “I’ve done things that went completely against my own morals.”

“It’s not your fault,” Taehyung argued. “You didn’t have a choice—“

“I did,” Jimin disagreed. “The options weren’t good, but I could’ve refused and taken the punishment.”

Taehyung glared at him. “They could’ve killed you.”

“If it was important enough to me, I could’ve died for it,” Jimin figured. “But I wanted to live, because I thought… I don’t know why, but I thought things might get better some day.”


“You had hope,” Hoseok said. Jimin nodded.

“And then I had you.” He tilted Taehyung’s chin up to meet his eyes. “So I did what I had to, to live to the next day, so maybe we could have a better future with each other.”

Taehyung let out a long breath and then closed his eyes, pressing their foreheads together.

“…I won’t ever be disgusted by the things you did to survive,” Namjoon said. “All of you.” He looked from Jimin to Hoseok to Yoongi. “Maybe, that’s selfish of me, because I understand some of those things were…” He swallowed. “…Absolutely horrible for you. But, I’m so glad you lived and I got to meet you, and I get to live a life with you.”

“Cheesy,” Jimin said, grinning.

“Hyung.” Namjoon took Yoongi’s hand. “I want to support you. Even if all I can do is sit there silently, grinding my teeth… because I know there are things that have happened that will make me very angry—not at you, but… at society, and at that man… but if you really don’t want me in the room, I’ll respect your wishes.”

“…No,” Yoongi said after a minute. “Maybe hyung is onto something.” Jin grinned. Yoongi rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to look so smug. Actually, Jiminie said something helpful as well.” Jimin blinked and pointed to himself. Yoongi nodded. “Yes, you. For the longest time, I was struggling to survive, but being with all of you feels like I’m alive for the first time. I feel like I could fly—which is terrifying, because the higher I go, the longer my fall will be. But I’m not alone.” He glanced at you, a smile twitching at his lips. He looked at Hoseok. “I’m relieved to have you by my side.”

Taehyung breathed in sharply. “Oh. I love it when Yoongi-hyung says things like that. I think I could cry…”

*

There was a snowstorm reported for the day of the trial. Kyungmin and Soobin stayed over the night before, in case the drive into the city would be too difficult the morning of.

Namjoon had loaned them his room, and slept in your bed with you. Somewhere around three in the morning, Jungkook wandered into the room.

“Kookie?” You squinted at him in the low light of your phone. You had been re-reading a law document Jo had sent to you.

“Can’t sleep,” he grunted, flopping on top of Namjoon.

Namjoon grunted. “And that means you have to squash me to death?”

Jungkook giggled. “You like it~”

“I don’t mind.” Namjoon kissed him.

Jungkook stared at him wide eyed. “Again.”

“If you start making out, I’m going to Hoseokie’s room,” you warned them. Jungkook pouted.

“Why?”

“Cause you two get worked up easily.”

His brow furrowed. “That bothers you?”

“Not normally,” you said, brushing his hair out of his face. “I’m just… a little irritated right now.” Jungkook nodded.

“It’s… yeah. Me too. Come closer?”

The three of you tangled together.

*

You woke to blinding white outside your window. Jungkook was playing with your hair with one hand, scrolling through his phone with the other.
“Where’s Joonie?”

“Calling Jo-hyung. It’s a lot of snow. He’s worried the trial’s gonna be postponed.”

You watched the snow fall. Your door opened and Namjoon stepped in. Jungkook let out a low whistle.
“You look good, hyung.”

“Huh?”

“The suit.” Jungkook pointed. Namjoon looked down at himself.

“Oh yeah. Ah… thanks.” He flushed slightly.

“What did Jo say?” You asked.

“Things are proceeding as planned. You should get ready.”

*

You could hear a murmur of conversations down the hall. Soobin was putting up a pot of coffee, while Kyungmin and Jin argued in front of the stove.

“Honestly—does lack of kitchen safety run in your family or something?” Jin shouted. “What will I do if Namjoon-ah finds out I let his little sister set herself on fire, huh?”

“What?” Namjoon said blankly.

“He’s exaggerating,” Kyungmin said, waving her hand. “There was barely any fire—back me up here Soobinie.” Soobin shrugged. Kyungmin frowned. “Anybody?”

“I’ve been a little distracted,” Hoseok admitted. He was tucking Yoongi’s button down into his slacks while Jimin hung off his back like a koala. “How’s the outfit, [F/N]? Jo-hyung was saying it’d be good to present ourselves as put together.” Soobin frowned.

“You do look very put together,” you told Yoongi. “And very handsome.” You pecked him on the cheek. He flushed.

“Nice…” Jimin rubbed sleepily against him.

“Jimin-ah, slow down,” Namjoon said, pulling him off. “He’ll get scent drunk at the rate you’re going.” Jimin whined. “Seriously. If you want him all blissed out after the trial, fine, but he needs his wits about him right now.”

“Which calls for coffee!” Hoseok thought, clapping his hands together. Jimin sighed.
“I should go wake Tae Tae up anyway.” He gave you a quick kiss on his way out. You touched your lips, smiling.

“Here.” Soobin handed a mug to Yoongi. Yoongi smiled at them and took a sip. He blinked.

“Salt?” Jungkook wondered. Yoongi shook his head.

“Decaf.”

“I figured we might as well cut down the chances for a panic attack,” Soobin explained, sipping their own coffee.

“Oh!” Jungkook nodded. “Smart.”

Yoongi sighed. “You’re probably right.”

“Soobinie has an annoying habit of being right,” Kyungmin said. “Unnie!” She turned to you. “Why are you staring at me?”

“Oh, ah, is that Yoongi-oppa’s skirt?”

“Oh yeah.” Kyungmin nodded. “He loaned it to me. Does it look good?” She did a little twirl.

“Not as good as it looks on hyung,” Namjoon commented. Yoongi laughed. Kyungmin slapped Namjoon’s arm.

“I didn’t ask you. I knew you’d choose your boyfriend over me.”

“He’s also her boyfriend.”

“I’m aware of that. I just want to look professional, since Jo-oppa said that was the vibe we were going for.”

“You’re not even getting on the stand.” Soobin frowned down at themselves.

“I have a suit that would probably fit you,” you thought. “If you want.”


“Really?” Soobin smiled.

*

You were surprised to find Yoongi leaning against the wall outside your room.

“Does your suit fit Soobinie?”

“I don’t know. They’re trying it on right now.”

“Thank you.” Yoongi kissed your cheek. You blinked at him. “I don’t want Soobinie to testify, but they’re going to regardless, so… I’m happy you’re supporting them.”

*

Jin gripped your elbow as you walked up the courthouse steps.  The snow had been shoveled to the side, but the stone was still a little slippery. Taehyung glared at the reporters gathered in front of the doors. You took a deep breath as the camera flashes went off. Luckily, the reporters weren’t allowed inside.

Soonyoung was sitting on a bench in the hall. Jo mentioned the press presence to her.

“I hope I didn’t make it worse,” she muttered. “I tried to be discreet, but…”

You squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sure you did your best.”

Jin bowed slightly. “Thank you for coming here, Soonyoung-ssi.” Jin had decided not to go into the courtroom during the trial, as there was a high chance of him dissociating, and he didn’t want to distract Yoongi at an important moment. Yoongi had argued Jin was just as important, and shouldn’t be alone at a time like this, so you had suggested Soonyoung (who had dealt with plenty of your own episodes—not that they were exactly the same as Jin’s, but, at least she would have some idea) could sit with him.

Soonyoung pouted. “Oppa, I’ve told you, you can speak informally with me—I’m younger than you!”

“Soonyoung-ah?” Jin said uncertainly. She beamed.

“Hyung…” Yoongi studied him.

“I’ll be fine, Yoongi-yah.” Jin reached over, smoothing down his shirt collar. “And so will you, yeah?” Yoongi nodded stiffly.

*

The court room was filled with the kind of silence that pounded at your ears.

You were sitting at a table towards the front of the room, with Yoongi, Jo, and Soobin. The others were sitting on the front bench behind you.

“That’s him,” Soobin whispered, nudging you and indicating with their head.

On the opposite side of the aisle, Son Sungwon was sitting at a table with his lawyer. He looked like a normal man in his late fifties, wearing a plain suit and an amicable smile. Soobin took a deep breath, their face paling.

“If you puke, don’t puke on me,” Yoongi muttered.

Soobin snorted. “Thanks, sunbaenim, you always say the sweetest things.”

*

Sungwon’s lawyer presented his case, reasoning that Sungwon had served his time for his illegal ownership of a hybrid fighting ring, and should now be released. Jo presented his case that Sungwon was a continued danger to the community, and should not be released.

And then Yoongi went up to the stand. The jury was relatively quiet, making a few noises of sympathy or surprise throughout Yoongi’s talk. He talked about the cages the hybrids were kept in, long enough to lie down, only high enough to sit up. He talked about the drugs, and death. He talked about punishments enacted when fighters lost (when they were still alive), and how Sungwon liked to watch. The murmurs from the jury rose in volume.

Jungkook started crying at one point— gasping sobs that he tried to stifle with his hand over his mouth. Yoongi’s eyes flickered to him. Jimin whispered to Jungkook for a moment before taking him out of the room. Taehyung scooted closer to Hoseok, bridging the empty space on the bench. His face was stony as Hoseok spoke to him in a low voice.

Sungwon’s lawyer attempted to fight back with the mentions of the ‘perks’ Yoongi had been given in return for wining, as a sign of Sungwon’s ‘kindness.’

“He liked to watch that too,” Yoongi said, pushing his sweaty hair out of his pale face. The lawyer argued that this wasn’t against the law. Jo argued that it was nonetheless immoral, outlining the vulnerability of a hybrid in their heat or rut.

And then Soobin was called to the stand. Namjoon tucked Kyungmin under his arm, holding her tightly.

Jo’s jaw clenched at the thinly veiled insults against Soobin’s character.

Yoongi’s tail flicked, his pupils widening as he readied himself to pounce. Kyungmin leaned forward, gripping his arm. They met eyes. She shook her head.

*

During the break while the jury deliberated, you went back into the hall. Jungkook latched onto Yoongi, muttering apologies.

“Nothing to apologize for,” Yoongi told him, cupping his face.

Jungkook frowned. “But I wanted to be there for you.”

“You were, but you need to look after yourself too,” Yoongi said. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Soonyoung-noona loaned me some really good eyedrops,” Jungkook said. “So my eyes aren’t itchy at all.”

“That’s not really what I was asking about,” Yoongi said. “But that’s good.”

Jin and Soonyoung had ordered food. You crowded around the bench, Taehyung on Jimin’s lap, you and Hoseok sitting on the floor with your backs against the wall.

Namjoon and Kyungmin argued about avocados while Taehyung watched them fondly.

Soonyoung interjected with a story about the time Jenny ate three avocados in a row and got sick.

“[F/N] wrapped her up in blankets and put on her favorite movie,” Soonyoung recalled. “It was cute.” Soonyoung patted your head.

“[N/N]’s always cute,” Hoseok said, nuzzling you a little. You made a noise of protest and hid your flushing face against his neck. Hoseok laughed. “You’re only proving my point [N/N] [N/N].”

“I get her as an older sister once you mate her,” Kyungmin said to Namjoon, grinning. Namjoon cleared his throat and eyed the ceiling.

“Did your little sister really like avocados that much?” Jin asked you, nose wrinkling.

“Well, she was only three at the time, so she got a little overexcited,” you defended her.

“Whatever age she was, did we really need to hear about that right now?” Jimin wondered. “I was already feeling nauseous.”  Taehyung made a noise, reached into the bag Jimin had bought him for his birthday, and pulled out a thermos triumphantly. Jimin pulled off the top and sniffed at it.

“One of noona’s herbal teas?”

Taehyung nodded. “It’s supposed to be good for your stomach!”

Jimin smiled softly at him.

“Oh, and I have these as well.” Soonyoung pulled out what looked like a protein bar. “These are easily digestible and have a lot of vitamins in them.” Jimin read over the label. “I mean, it’s not as satisfying or nourishing as a full meal, but if you don’t have the time, or you’re nauseous, it’s better than nothing.”

“Speaking of nourishment, Soobinie should eat before we have to go back in,” Kyungmin thought, glancing down the hall. “Aren’t they done yet?” Jo was talking to Soobin a little ways down the hall, running his hand through his hair. Soobin shook their head, smiling slightly.

“Jo-hyung is apologizing for not being able to do more for Soobin-ssi,” Hoseok told you quietly. “Soobin-ssi is telling him not to worry, he’s already done a lot for them and Yoongi-hyung.”

“He has,” Yoongi agreed. “Whatever happens, hyung shouldn’t feel bad. He made a good effort.”

“I hope you extend the same curtesy to yourself,” Namjoon commented, picking the avocado out of his sandwich and piling it on Kyungmin’s plate. Yoongi frowned.

“You should,” Jungkook agreed. “Or I’ll fight you.” Yoongi snorted.

“I’d much rather fight Son Sungwon,” Hoseok said, a dark look on his face. “If he wins…”

“He’ll be insufferable either way,” Yoongi said. “That’s just the kind of person he is.”

*


Son Sungwon stopped at the top of the stairs, pointing a finger at Yoongi. The flashing camera lights made his movements seem like they were in slow motion. You were vaguely aware of Jungkook and Jin, behind you, holding each other back. 

“You might think you’ve won,” Sungwon said. “But, no matter what, I’m still human. You’re still—“ And then Yoongi pounced. Shouts rang up from the crowd.

The gathered Hybrid Control officers were on Yoongi immediately, dragging him away from Sungwon. The police officers formed a ring around Sungwon.

“I knew it!” The HC Chief Officer said. Yoongi was pined to the ground, his arm twisted behind his back. You couldn’t see his face clearly through the mass of bodies, but you thought he might be crying. “I knew you would—“

“Stop! Stop!” Namjoon shouted. “Look!” He pointed. Sungwon was clutching his shoulder. Red leaked between his fingers. There was a splatter on the snow behind him.

“He’s been shot,” one of the police officers noted in surprise. “Considering the angle when he was standing…” His eyes widened. “The hybrid saved his life!”

The crowd grew louder as the cameras kept flashing. Jin was gripping your arm in a vice. “Come on,” Jo said, somewhere to your left. “We need to keep alert.”

~~~~~

Taglist (lol I forgot sorry guys)

@fangirl125reader​ @asja-the-hoarder​ @mrcleanheichou​ @tinyoonsblog​ @mcusuperfreak​ @forvever-ddaeng​ @a-noona-mous​ @weallneednamjesus​ @singukieee @strawberryybobatae​ @sachaa-ff​ @colourlyhobbit​ @bunzom​ @inlovewithhonestlyeveryone​ @faceaeter​ @taradevonne​ @cestlabellemort​ @agustdjoon​ @childfmoonn​ @yoursoontobestepmom​ @btsizlyfe​ @kassandravictoria​ @btsstan12

[citrusdarling7]

jealously

summary- Tom Riddle becomes jealous of reader’s boyfriend and decides to take matters into his own hands

warnings- smut, cheating, degrading, edging, and a bit of light choking. dom! tom, sub! reader

🗡—————————————————————🗡

I’ve never been much of a morning person, but for some reason I was up early today. I knew that I had a potions essay due tomorrow, and I was behind on it. Still in my silky nightgown, I assumed no one else would be in the common room. To my surprise, Abraxas was sitting in front of the fireplace. I smiled and tip-toed over to him, wrapping my arms around his chest from behind him. He squeezed one of my hands gently, acknowledging my presence.

“Darling, why are you up? It’s barely 5 am,” he told me softly. I rolled my eyes and swiveled around the couch so I could sit down next to him.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Malfoy. Oh my God, what happened to your face?” Even in the dim lighting of the Slytherin common room, I could see the dark purple bruises around one of his eyes. I gently reached up to try and touch him, but he turned his face to the side.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. Did you sleep well?” He tried to change the subject, but I didn’t let up.

“Brax, what the hell happened? Please tell me that the other guy looks worse,” I said while positioning myself closer to him. I gently ran a finger along his jawline in a comforting gesture. I could smell his sage wood cologne, which I absolutely adored.

“Truthfully darling, I think I’m lucky I walked away without him cursing me. He was absolutely livid after you left.”

Of course. I was such an idiot. Tom had done this to him.

Late last night, Abraxas and I were kissing in the corridor when we decided we wanted to go somewhere more private. Abraxas knows how to find the Room of Requirement, and he dragged me inside, still kissing my neck and holding onto my waist. Unfortunately for us, all of the other 6th year Slytherin boys were already there, brewing some type of illegal potion. Not only had Abraxas forgotten he was supposed to meet with them that night, but he had also exposed me to what was happening.

Although some people would believe so, I’m not naive to what goes on in this school. I know about Tom and his pursuits in dark magic. I know about their constant fights with those Gryffindors who all wear that one lion pin. But Tom seemed to believe that I had no prior knowledge of these secret meetings, and he instantly started yelling at us.

“Malfoy, you idiot! You are not supposed to bring back girls to this room, and certainly not when we’re in the middle of illicit activities!”

Rosier and Avery were still sitting by the cauldron, doing nothing to help the situation. I stepped away from Abraxas and turned towards Tom.

“Calm down, Riddle. You and your superiority complex need to learn that not everyone’s life revolves around yours,” I spat at him. Tom took a step closer to me, and I instinctively reached to pull out my wand. Before I had a chance to, I felt the back of my head being slammed against the wall, Tom’s hand gripping my throat tightly. Abraxas and Rosier both shouted for Tom to let go of me, but I just smiled. I stared him down, letting him know that I wasn’t afraid of him.

“You’re not allowed to speak to me that way,” he growled.

“I can speak to you any way I want Tommy.” His eyes looked as if he wanted to strangle me, but I saw the trace of a smile play across his lips. He abruptly let go of me and turned towards Abraxas.

“You need to keep your girlfriend under control. Get out of here.” Abraxas quickly grabbed my hand and started to pull me towards the door.

“Not you, Malfoy. Your presence is still required here.” I opened my mouth to tell him off again, but Abraxas quickly shook his head.

“Go back to the common room, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” I reluctantly sighed, but figured that I shouldn’t piss Tom off even more. I should have known that Tom would still be angry with Abraxas.

Flashing back to present time, I turned around to look towards the boys dormitories. Abraxas could tell what I was thinking, so he gently squeezed my hand.

“Leave it alone, dearest. He was fine the rest of the night, confronting him will just make him mad again. I don’t want you to get hurt, my love.”

I’m not one to back down easily, and I constantly let my temper get the best of me. But Abraxas’ soft touch against my leg and heart-felt words relaxed me a bit.

“Alright. I won’t say anything. Have you done Slughorn’s essay yet?”

We spent the next hour or so alone in the common room, trying to hastily finish up homework. By the time that others started waking up, I was sitting in his lap, my hands in his hair as we kissed passionately.

“You two are disgusting. 20 points from Slytherin,” a cold voice said. I rolled my eyes and gave Abraxas a quick peck on the lips before sliding off of him and back onto the couch. Tom was Head Boy, and he had no problem with taking points from his own house. He had a lot of nerve as well. Almost every single night I watched him drag some girl into his room. She always left limping a few hours later, and Tom never spoke to her again.

“Put some clothes on. You’re dressed like a whore,” he spat at me. I scoffed at him, but got up to head back to my room anyways. As I slipped on my school robes and brushed out my hair, I couldn’t stop thinking about Tom.

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. I managed to get through all of my classes without speaking a word to Tom. After watching the Slytherin quidditch team practice while gossiping with Lestrange, I sat with Rosier and Abraxas in the common room. Rosier made me play chess with him, beating me every single time. This was strange, since I considered myself an excellent chess player. I guess I was just a little distracted. Abraxas excused himself to his dorm room, saying that he had a ton of homework to do. He gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek before leaving.

“Something on your mind?” Rosier asked me. I sighed and slumped down in my chair.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m still kind of upset about what happened with Tom. Why do you guys let him treat you all so awfully?”

“It’s not as simple as that. Being friends with Riddle has advantages and disadvantages. The occasional hex or punch to the face isn’t much of a price to pay.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

“One of these days I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” I said with a grin. Rosier chuckled and patted my arm.

“Good luck with that.”

A few hours later I was lying in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I had been trying desperately to fall asleep. But something was still on the back of my mind, and that something was preventing me from being able to relax. I let out a sigh and rolled out of bed. I slipped out of my room and quietly walked down the stairs, into the common room. I then made my way up the stairs leading to the boys dormitory. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door at the end of the hallway. He opened the door, and my nostrils were instantly filled with the smell of smoke. Tom stood inches away from me, still in his school uniform. He was holding a lit cigarette between his fingers.

“Did you need something, sweetheart?” I rolled my eyes at his stupid pet-name.

“You are absolutely insane, Riddle! You walk around this damn school like you own the place, and I’m sick of it.” He smiled and offered out his arm to me.

“If you’re going to yell at me, then you might as well do it behind closed doors,” he offered. I didn’t take his hand, but I did step inside and let him shut the door behind me. Since he was Head Boy, his room was bigger than all of ours. I could see that his window was open, probably because of the smoke. His bed had black silky sheets adorning it, and I could see all of the books on his desk were neatly stacked. His box of cigarettes was laying on his nightstand.

“So did you come here just to tell me off or did you want a smoke as well?” he taunted.

I turned around to face him again.

“I want you to stop hitting my boyfriend. And the rest of the boys. You have to learn how to respect others.” He chuckled darkly while taking a step towards me.

“Darling, that’s a pretty demanding request. My respect has to be earned.” In an attempt to look more confident, I crossed my arms across my chest.

“You’re such a child, Tom. I don’t know why you think that everyone worships you!” I shouted at him. He quickly wrapped his free hand around my neck and pushed me against the wall. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out.

“That’s because everyone does. Everyone except you it seems.” I don’t know why Tom had this constant need to slam me up against the wall and choke me. It didn’t make me afraid of his dumbass.

Honestly, it was kind of hot. He brought his other hand up to my face and he touched my cheek softly.

“Did you and Malfoy ever finish what you started yesterday?” It took me a moment to realize that he was asking if we had fucked.

“That’s none of your business,” I snapped at him. He tightened his grip on my throat and used one of his legs to pin down mine.

“Answer my question.”

“No, I haven’t slept with him. Why do you care?” Tom brought his head down to my neck and whispered into my ear.

“Because I’m not into sloppy seconds.” Before I had a chance to mention the fact that he probably had over twenty bodies, he started kissing me roughly. I kissed him back and wrapped my leg around one of his. I let him suck on my neck as he pushed my thin nightgown up my leg and slipped one of his hands under it. He started to slowly rub circles on my thigh. He continued to suck on my neck as I tried to grind against him. He growled and used his other hand to push my waist back against the wall.

“None of that. Do you want me to touch you, darling?” he asked in a mocking tone. I nodded and he slipped his fingers into my underwear.

“Someone’s a needy little slut,” he whispered. Part of me wanted to call him a man-whore, but the part of me that valued my life kept me quiet. I felt him push two fingers inside me and I whimpered. He started to rub my clit with his thumb as he thrusted his fingers in and out of me. He started kissing my neck again as I moaned quietly. He was going incredibly slow, making me desperate for every touch. At a particularly sharp pressure, one of my legs twitched and I had to bite my lip to stop from making noise. Tom chuckled and tilted my chin towards him.

“Didn’t you come here to yell at me? Are you going to yell at me now, darling?” He started to rub me faster, which made it difficult for me to even speak.

“I hate you,” I was able to mutter. He laughed and pinched my waist roughly, making me jump. After only a few minutes, I was starting to get close to my peak. I felt my legs start to shake as I bit my lip to stifle my moans. Tom noticed this, so he stopped touching me. I frowned as he leaned down to whisper into my ear.

“Did you really think I was going to let you come that quickly?”

Before I had the chance to respond, he grabbed my legs and spun me around, pushing me onto his bed. He quickly tugged my nightgown off of me and started to take off his shirt. I tried to reach up and help him, but he used his free hand to push me back onto the bed. He quickly unbuckled his belt and kicked his pants off before getting on top of me. I felt his member pressing against my thigh. He wrapped a hand around my throat again and used the other hand to gently rub one of my hips.

“Is this what you want? Me to fuck you senseless while your boyfriend sleeps two rooms over?” I felt him rub against my clit, teasing me purposefully. I decided that I wouldn’t tell him that me and Abraxas weren’t actually dating until later.

“Tom-”

“Shut up,” he growled before thrusting into me sharply. As he rocked into me, I definitely felt a bit of pain. He was bigger than what I was used to, but I was adjusting quickly. I tried to rest my arms on his shoulders, but he didn’t like that. He pinned my hands above my head and started to attack my neck with his mouth.

“If you do that again, I’ll tie you down. Don’t test me,” he muttered. He continued to rail into me over and over, hitting me at just the right angle. In less than ten minutes I was close again. I tightly clenched the sheets and tried to grind my hips against his to alleviate some of the tension. That’s when he slipped out of me with a grin.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he said while stroking my hair.

“Are you fucking serious?” I complained.

“Completely. Be a good girl and maybe I’ll let you finish before the night is over.”

I will admit, his self-control was pretty impressive. Most guys wouldn’t be able to handle pulling out before they had finished. But I also figured that he was just bluffing. There was no way he would be able to do this for more than twenty minutes. After 30 or so seconds of him attacking my mouth with his tongue, he thrusted into me again. This time his strokes were a bit slower and more gentle. He rubbed one of my arms lightly as he made me shiver at his touch.

“Tom, oh my God,” I moaned into his neck. I assumed he was going to tell me to shut up, but I guess he liked knowing how good he was making me feel.

“That’s right, darling. You like this?” I nodded my head as he pressed soft kisses against my jawline. I was definitely pleased with his change of pace. The slow stroked and gentle kisses made this feel a bit more like a normal thing. But of course, that didn’t last very long. Once he was done leaving hickies all over my neck, he wrapped his hand around it. He started to press himself deeper inside of me, rocking me into his bed. I whimpered as he hit a spot that made my legs twitch.

“Quiet, slut,” he demanded. I tilted my head slightly away from him, trying to stifle my moans with one of his pillows. I was panting at this point, desperately gripping onto the sheets.

“Could Malfoy make you feel this good?”

“Yeah, if I was with him I would’ve came by now,” I thought to myself. However, I shook my head in an attempt to appease him.

“That’s right. Should I let you finish now?” I nodded and he jerked my face back towards him. “Alright. Beg for it.” That actually made me laugh. There was no way I was going to give into him that easily. Tom shrugged and continued to pound into me. “Be difficult then. I don’t care either way.”

I bit down my lip to muffle a scream as my stomach flipped and my legs shook. Right when I was about to be sent over the edge, he pulled out of me again. By now, I was completely fed up with him. I tried to bring one of my hands down between my legs, but he was quicker than me. He grabbed both of my arms and roughly pinned them above my head.

“I don’t think so, dear. I want the whole hallway to hear you screaming my name,” he said while stroking my cheek tauntingly.

“Good luck with that,” I said with an eye roll.

“You’re mine now. No one gets to touch you but me,” he muttered into my ear before thrusting into me again. By now I could see finger-shaped bruises starting to form on my waist. We had been going at it for at least 35 minutes, and my body was aching for release. I was confident that he had left at least 5 or so hickies on my neck, which I was not looking forward to having to cover up tomorrow. Out of instinct, I tried to move my leg around his to adjust the angle. Tom slammed me down onto his bed roughly.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled. He pressed one of his thumbs against my clit, making me whimper. I was so frustrated that tears had started to stream down my face. Tom gently wiped them away with his free hand.

“Are you gonna apologize for yelling at me earlier?” he asked in a snarl. I shook my head, which made him chuckle.

“That’s what I thought. If you’re gonna be like that, you clearly haven’t learned your lesson.” He started to kiss roughly at my collar, obviously trying to mark me more. After a few minutes of listening to me whine and pant, he decided to give me another chance.

“Promise me you’ll stop hanging around Malfoy,” he said softly. That kind of threw me for a loop.

“What? Why?” He nibbled on my ear lobe and thrusted into me sharply.

“You’re my little slut now. I don’t want him touching you. Promise me.” I instinctively shook my head, which only made his thrusts even harder.

“Promise me, darling. Like I said, I can go all night.” I really, really wanted to keep my mouth shut. But I was so overwhelmed, I couldn’t take much more.

“Fine. I promise. Please Tom, I-”

He bit down on my lip and thrusted into me at the perfect angle and speed.

Over-and-over again.

I moaned his name as well as a stream of profanities as waves of pleasure tore through my body. My legs were shaking so bad that he had to actually hold them down. While I was riding out my high, Tom muttered praises into my ear. I was so extremely sensitive that every touch set off fireworks against my skin.

“Take me like a good girl,” he said before roughly grabbing my throat. It took him a few minutes to finish himself off, but when he did it was so hot. He didn’t even bother to pull out. He continued to kiss me for a bit before he got up and started to walk towards his bathroom.

“Now, get the hell out of my room, whore.”

I smiled at his lovely term of endearment as I tried to quickly pull my clothing back on. I stood up quickly, and my legs gave out beneath me. Tom laughed as he put on his bathrobe.

“You’re pathetic,” he said while helping me up. Surprisingly enough, he walked me back to my dorm, smiling the entire way. Before he turned to leave he pushed a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Sleep well, darling.” I flashed him a sweet smile.

“You too, Riddle.”

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

rewatching “Depends on the Wagon” and Curtain and Reynie’s scene is SO much better written than I realized on first watch. Pretty much everything Curtain says is subtle manipulation to get Reynie to trust him, and it’s creepy as hell.

For starters, he walks in and says he’s “so glad” that Reynie “decided to come,” and then pauses, as if confused, after Reynie corrects him and says he was summoned; this does plant the idea in Reynie’s head that he WANTED to come, and also that Curtain is a safe and friendly person to casually go to; in fact, Curtain would be totally chill if Reynie just showed up to hang out. If you’re a safe person to hang out with, and confide in, whoever’s talking to you is more likely to... let things slip.

Throughout the scene, he doesn’t acknowledge SQ at all (only mentioning him once later to the chef), barely acknowledges the chef, and focuses all his attention on Reynie, (with one exception, noted later) making Reynie seem very important to him, as well as, again, trying to make him more comfortable talking to him. Considering he knows Reynie’s an orphan (his paperwork listed him as transferring from the orphanage), this could easily be a setup of “nobody else listens to you, but I do.”

The conversation starts with simple small talk (basically ��did you get here alright”), then immediately moves onto a compliment (”your test scores were quite impressive”)... and then also immediately, Curtain starts sowing seeds of doubt in Reynie about how much he should trust anyone but the headmaster. He throws out there, basically for no reason, “I don’t see you as bland or unremarkable at all,” and before Reynie can question that, he presses on with his compliments, then again says “Unlike others I don’t find your scores surprising...” This is not only basically hinting to Reynie that people are against him, talking about him rudely, possibly trying to sabotage him, but it also frames Curtain as the good adult who knows that Reynie is Special™ and Smart™. In his compliments, he also compares himself to Reynie a lot (”people call me a maverick”), obviously as another ploy to gain trust.

Curtain also drops the potential promise of Messengership, as another “look how cool/nice I am to you, you’re so special I’m already planning to put you in the inner circle.” To also note, he says this right after he says he doesn’t find it “ethical” to make overpromises, giving Reynie the impression that he’s SO special and smart that he’s an exception, and Curtain can already see that. Add more compliments, making Reynie like him more- “you’re destined to do amazing things in this institute” was an interesting line for example, as it’s implicitly saying “you’re destined to do amazing things for me.”

Then... he moves onto Sticky. He quickly tries to make the topic casual, joking about his name, then asks about their relationship. When Reynie mentions that they’re friends, you’ll notice Curtain gestures for the chef to bring over their salads- intentionally interrupting the conversation, making it a little awkward. For the first time since he entered the room, he ignores Reynie, instead talking to the chef about SQ. Without directly saying anything, this easily could make Reynie feel like he said or did something wrong- “oh no, he was paying attention to me before, but now when I talk about my friend I’ve lost his interest. sticky must be a bad subject. bad sticky.”

Does this work on Reynie? I don’t think so, as when Curtain turns back to him he’s ready to continue the conversation as if they hadn’t been interrupted. (Not to shove my autistic!Reynie headcanon in, but the “not understanding social cues” trait is very present there.) Curtain then compliments him on being “intuitive”, then becomes more direct, advising him to “not let [his] guard down with anyone,” saying that the school is competitive and people’s motives might not be clear- now, Curtain’s motive with that sentence was clear, to tell him that people are going to try to stab you in the back.

He then once again compares Reynie to himself, as well as throwing in a pity card for the obviously empathetic child, saying “I had to learn that lesson the hard way [read: so I’m teaching it to you now, because you’re so clever and amazing], because my brother betrayed me [read: isn’t that sad? But I rose above it, which makes me the hero in the situation.].”

We know from the book (unless they changed it?) that Curtain doesn’t know at all that the MBS are spies, so what’s this manipulation for? What it is, is simple abusive tactics. The implicit message in the entire conversation is “It is bad for you to trust anyone except for me.” Once a victim is isolated, they’re easier to control. And as we know, control is very important to Curtain. So when Reynie turns up with amazing test scores, meaning he’ll likely be promoted to messenger "faster than any kid in the school,” Curtain’s ready to start the manipulation just as fast.

Also, a prop department note: while Mr Benedict’s study is filled with books, so much so that you can barely see anything else... Curtain’s books are all fake. The shelves on the wall are photographs. Visual cue that there’s no real knowledge valued here.

[ashesandhackles]

Shigure for the ask game please

Yes, my favourite boy!

• favorite thing about them

So many things! I admire his ruthless will in defying the magical nature of the bond to go against Akito, but I think my favourite thing about them (and the least talked about aspect of his character but I think it's one of the most important) is emotional wisdom.

Shigure stands in direct opposition to the stagnation of the bonds, consistently challenging people's identities that are rooted in fixed nature of the curse ("It almost sounds like you are obligated to hate him. Your eyes show fear in getting to know him" - people often read this scene as him triggering Kyo for lols, but that's not true. It is as he said, he got impatient with Kyo lashing out and plucked out the root cause and asked Kyo to look at it. He is trying to force Kyo to look at the fact that hating Yuki is rooted in something else, except Kyo was not ready. Which he acknowledges - "I pushed him too far").

He believes, "Time marches on, so do people and feelings. You will be left behind". The reason he "wins" at the end of the manga is because he already knows the lesson Tohru and Akito take a long time to learn - "people and feelings can't be bound." It is this knowledge that puts him one step ahead of everyone.

• least favorite thing about them

Tbh, this is a writing issue more than a character issue. I really dislike the manga pervert trope that Takaya uses with him (some of it is played off as him baiting Yuki and Kyo, which is fine). It is at odds with everything else she says about the character, and very tone deaf in a manga that deals with heavy subjects such as generational abuse. I believe @worldoshaking goes into this in their meta here.

• favorite line

I love the laundry speech to Tohru and how he tells Kyo he just needs practice being around people, but i think my favourite line will remain what I latched onto as a teenager: "I love her so much that I would spoil her, so much that I would crush her to pulp"

What a haunting line about the warped nature of his feelings, twisted by the dehumanisation of the Sohma clan and what he faces as an inability to be Akito equal.

• BROTP

Shigure - Hatori? I enjoy Shigure - Ayame quite a bit too, but the emotional honesty of Shigure- Hatori's interactions are a huge draw and they provide a refreshing contrast to one another. Also, look at this soft face Shigure is making:

• OTP

Shigure x Mayu. It's het Shigure x Hatori but without the baggage of growing up together lols.

• nOTP

As much as I enjoy watching/reading their trainwreck relationship - Akito. Sorry to all Akigure shippers who follow me. 🥺

The only thing I enjoy about the way Shigure's story ended is that he is the assistant to head of the house, and he has a lot of pent up resentment for Sohma clan ("the zodiacs are monsters and that is an ugly thing. Do you think we are happy? Just living in this world is painful for us" - ch109, & "we should all be pitied" - ch117/8?). So I do enjoy the idea of him and Akito tearing down dehumanising systems. But as a couple, I am like 🙅

• random headcanon

He enjoys detective novels. XD

• unpopular opinion

Shigure wants to break the curse because Akito cheated on him is a reductive reading. "cheating" implies equality in the relationship, but Shigure and Akito are not equal. Akito both has divine authority over him, as well as administrative power as the head of the family - which greatly nullifies the power Shigure has in the dynamic by the virtue of being older and a man.

In fact, his rage at Akito is less about the cheating but more about the fact that they don't consider it cheating - the idea that he is nothing, his feelings don't matter ("i am worthy of no special mention, I am the worst kind of man" - the first line is him internalising Akito's dismissal and rejection of him, the second line is his judgement of himself for sleeping with Ren). When he brings it up, Akito exerts their identity as God and dehumanise him ("i am not just anyone, i am special! i can do whatever I want, it is my right!").

This is precisely the reason Shigure wants to break the curse. He wants to capture the "beautiful feelings" of the bond, but the dehumanising power dynamic that comes with it? That needs to go.

• song i associate with them

State of Love and Trust - Pearl Jam.

• favorite picture of them

The one in my header is one! But maybe this from chapter 43 (i think)? He is being contemplative here, but there is also an edge of malice that I really enjoy.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

ltdan2288 asked: As a fellow veteran of the Afghan Campaign, might I ask if you have any thoughts about the imminent end of Allied air support & combat-advisory operations over there? The fall of large swaths of the country to the Taliban is already underway, which can only be seen as an unspeakable tragedy for the people there. From a strategic perspective, there’s no reason to believe that we won’t have to return in some capacity of AQ or ISIS reestablish themselves under Taliban sponsorship. At the same time, it’s not clear to me that our presence did anything beyond kick the can down the road and delay this inevitable outcome. As someone with such a deep knowledge of military history, I’m curious if you have a different perspective.

I have been avoiding answering this post for a while now because Afghanistan dredges up so many conflicting emotions inside me. I wrestle with so many memories of my time there with my regiment to fight in a war that we all didn’t really understand what we were fighting for.

Deep breath.

Almost two decades of conflict in Afghanistan has cost British taxpayers £22.2billion, or $31.3 billion according to UK government figures. As British troops prepare to leave Afghanistan, the 20-year deployment bill could be even higher. As of May 2021, the total cost of Operation Herrick (codename for the deployment of British soldiers to Helmand province) is £22.2billion. There were 457 fatalities on, or subsequently due to, Op Herrick. Of which 403 were due to hostile action. During the operation between January 1, 2006 and November 30, 2014, there were 10,382 British service personnel casualties. Of these 5,705 were injuries and the remainder being illness or disease. The UK’s remaining 750 troops in Afghanistan, involved in training local forces, started exiting the war-devastated country in May. Most of them will return home by the end of July.

They, like every one of us who went to fight in Afghanistan, will ask the same questions, ‘Why did we go there?’ ‘What was the real purpose of the mission?’ ‘Was it worth it?’

Both my older brothers fought there with special distinction and I later fought there too. I have very mixed emotions when I think about my time in Afghanistan. For all its faults and tortured history, I love that country and love its many ethnic people. I even started to learn Pashtu as I already had a spoken command of Urdu because I had been raised partly in both Pakistan and India and it’s where many Afghan refugees living in the UN camps for over a generation had learned Urdu too.

It’s not just that my family has history in Afghanistan going back to the days of the East India Company but I had a sincere respect for its culture and history as one of the central hot spots for great civilisational achievements, but also as a stubborn and unruly country who proudly defied the Great Powers to bend the knee and turned it into a ‘graveyard of empires’. Most of all I think of the friendships I made there and how my perspective on life changed as a consequence of knowing such resilience and fortitude in the face of catastrophe and death.

I’m sure like everyone else I wasn’t too surprised by President Biden’s announcement that he was announcing the imminent withdrawal of all American troops in Afghanistan. He wanted to pivot to something else when asked about it. “I want to talk about happy things, man!” He said. Who could begrudge him given that America has been at war in Afghanistan for a better part of 20 years and has nothing to really show for it. Except of course the loss of its brave service men and women as well as the death of thousands of Afghan civilians. It spent more than $2 trillion to kill Osama bin Laden, the architect behind 9/11 attacks and failed to convincingly snuff out both murderous terror groups, Al Qaeda and ISIS.

When the Secretary General of Nato announced back in April 2021 all alliance troops were to be withdrawn from Afghanistan, it was made to look like a nice, clean, enunciation of a joint decision. The end date was set for 11 September, 2021 - 20 years after the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington - and it was in line with the oft-repeated alliance maxim: we went in together; we will come out together. Except that, on closer examination, it was all rather messier.

This was partly because the withdrawal from Afghanistan had actually been Trump’s policy, so here was Joe Biden, the anti-Trump, co-opting a policy from his predecessor (a policy Trump had been so keen on that he tried to accelerate the withdrawal after he lost the election). Biden then tried to detach it from Trump by slowing down the withdrawal date a little and expressing it in terms more comprehensible to the Washington establishment and to US allies.

Where Trump had essentially done a deal with the Taliban and set a withdrawal date of 1 May, Biden left the Taliban out of it and invoked the totemic date of 9/11. This does not mean, of course, that the withdrawal will not be completed a good deal sooner - once you announce a withdrawal, you might as well get on with it.

In fact, Biden had to make a decision one way or another, given the rapid approach of Trump’s 1 May withdrawal date. And, whether it came from Washington or Nato, it was pretty low key for an announcement that a 20-year military involvement that had cost 4,000 allied lives was ending. Indeed, many people beyond Washington and Afghanistan might not quite have registered the news, given the considerable noises from Nato’s simultaneous dire warnings about Russia massing troops on the Ukrainian border, the death of the Duke of Edinburgh in the UK, and the Covid pandemic everywhere.

And distractions were needed not just because Biden was implementing a Trump policy. It was also because he was ordering an unconditional withdrawal – which he justified, correctly, by saying that setting preconditions would mean that the troops could be there forever. It was a risk Biden knew all too well, given that Barack Obama had been persuaded by General David Petraeus – against his election pledges and his better judgement – that what Obama really wanted was not a withdrawal, but a ‘surge’ with conditions attached before a withdrawal could take place.

Distractions were also useful for London, where the timing was hardly ideal. Imagine you were in government in London, you had watched the dismal failure of the UK’s Herrick operations in Helmand Province between 2006 and 2014, you knew that your armed forces had suffered 456 deaths in 20 years, with many more severely injured, but you had hung on in there.

Your government had also just released a blueprint for foreign and security policy, setting future priorities even further from home, in the Indo-Pacific, and your Prime Minister was about to make a high-profile visit to India as part of his post-Brexit ‘Global Britain’ branding . In those circumstances, an announcement that the US had decided to leave Afghanistan, giving you no choice but to follow, was almost exactly what you did not need. Rather than showing the UK as a powerful, autonomous military actor and a valued ally, it showed the exact opposite.

It also reminded an unhappy British public about a costly conflict it had rather forgotten. And those who did more than bother to remember - like the families who lost loved ones on the battlefield - and who over the years have blamed successive governments for moving the goalposts and lacking an exit strategy (all true too).

All of which might explain why the UK’s Foreign and Defence Secretaries followed the US example by changing the subject to the iniquities of Russia and China, rather than issuing a joyous pronouncement to the effect of: hooray and thank goodness, our boys and girls are coming home.

The UK’s Chief of Defence Staff, General Sir Nick Carter gave a subdued, unenthusiastic response to Biden’s announcement. I cannot remember such open acknowledgement of UK-US military policy friction in recent decades - or such an abject admission by the UK of its defence dependence on the US. What Carter said was that the unconditional withdrawal was ‘not a decision we had hoped for, but we obviously respect it and it is clearly an acknowledgement of an evolving US strategic posture’. In other words, the UK had opposed Biden’s decision – or would have done, if asked (which is not clear). Also, that it was Washington’s ‘strategic posture’ that had ‘evolved’, not the UK’s. He suggested there was a real danger that progress made could be lost and that there could be a return to civil war, with the Taliban maybe returning to power - again, all true.

Given that the UK officially has only 750 troops in Afghanistan at present, and most of them are there in a training capacity, to dissent from the US position so openly would be considered decidedly rude in the Ministry of Defence. Perhaps to that end, General Carter played the dutiful soldier and had to - through gritted teeth - put a positive gloss on Afghanistan’s future, insisting that the objective in going into Afghanistan, ‘to prevent international terrorism emerging from the country’, had been achieved which was ‘great tribute to the work of British forces and their allies’.

He also said that Afghan forces were ‘much better trained than one might imagine’ and that the Taliban ‘is not the organisation it once was’, so that ‘a scenario could play out that is actually not quite as bad as perhaps some of the naysayers are predicting.’ Blah blah blah. He’s wrong, and I think he knows it but only in the sanctity of his gentlemen’s club might he truly admit it.

I know he’s wrong because the chatter amongst ex-veterans I know is that we’ve made a balls up of Afghanistan yet again - by ‘again’ I mean from the past 200 years of us Brits trying to bring order to chaos in Afghanistan and getting burned for our troubles.

Both my father and my older siblings tell me what their friends and ex-service peers (some very senior indeed) have been nattering over a drink at their gentlemen clubs where ex-veterans haunt the club bar. Many just shake their heads in sighed resignation before burying themselves in the Times crossword or drowning their sorrows with a beer or two at how lock in step we’ve become to the Americans at a time when the British army is re-branding itself as a more independent nimble hi-tech impact army (the creation of a new ranger regiment being but one example).

Still if President Biden wanted to tie a neat bow on U.S. involvement in Afghanistan - saying, as he had, that the logic for the war ended once al-Qaida was gutted and Osama bin Laden killed - then it reveals a stunning lack of introspection about the United States’ role in the conflict that will continue in Afghanistan long after the last American and British troops leave.

Less than three months after President Joe Biden declared that the last American troops would be out of Afghanistan by September 11th, the withdrawal is nearly complete. The departure from Bagram air base, an hour’s drive north of the capital, Kabul, in effect marked the end of America’s 20-year war. But that does not mean the end of the war in Afghanistan. If anything, it is only going to get worse.

It is true that the president had no good choice on Afghanistan, and that he inherited a bad deal from his predecessor. There are never good choices when it comes to Afghanistan: only bloody trade offs.

But in announcing an unconditional withdrawal, he made the situation worse by throwing out the minimal conditions U.S. Special Envoy Zalmay Khalilzad had negotiated under the Trump administration. U.S. envoy Zalmay Khalilzad has delivered to the Afghan government and Taliban a draft Afghanistan Peace Agreement - the central idea of which is replacing the elected Afghan government with a so-called transitional one that would include the Taliban and then negotiate among its members the future permanent system of government. Crucial blank spaces in the draft include the exact share of power for each of the warring sides and which side would control security institutions.

The refrain now from the Biden administration is that the United States is not abandoning Afghanistan, that it will aim to do right by Afghan women and girls, and that it will try to nudge the Taliban and Kabul toward a peace deal using a diplomatic tool kit.

But the narrative ignores much of the reality on the ground. It also ignores history.

In theory, the Taliban and the American-backed government had been negotiating a peace accord, whereby the insurgents lay down their arms and participate instead in a redesigned political system. In the best-case scenario, strong American support for the government, both financial and military (in the form of continuing air strikes on the Taliban), coupled with immense pressure on the insurgents’ friends, such as Pakistan, might succeed in producing some form of power-sharing agreement.

But even if that were to happen - and the chances are low - it would be a depressing spectacle. The Taliban would insist on moving backwards in the direction of the brutal theocracy they imposed during their previous stint in power, when they confined women to their homes, stopped girls from going to school and meted out harsh punishments for sins such as wearing the wrong clothes or listening to the wrong music.

More likely than any deal, however, is that the Taliban try to use their victories on the battlefield to topple the government by force. They have already overrun much of the countryside, with government units mostly restricted to cities and towns. Demoralised government troops are abandoning their posts. In the first week of July 2021, over 1,000 of them fled from the north-eastern province of Badakhshan to neighbouring Tajikistan. The Taliban have not yet managed to capture and hold any cities, and may lack the manpower to do so in lots of places at once. They may prefer to throttle the government slowly rather than attack it head on. But the momentum is clearly on their side.

America and its NATO allies have spent billions of dollars training and equipping Afghan security forces in the hope that they would one day be able to stand alone. Instead, they started buckling even before America left. Many districts are being taken not by force, but are simply handed over. Soldiers and policemen have surrendered in droves, leaving piles of American-purchased arms and ammunition and fleets of vehicles. Even as the last American troops were leaving Bagram over the weekend of July 3rd, more than 1,000 Afghan soldiers were busy fleeing across the border into neighbouring Tajikistan as they sought to escape a Taliban assault.

As the outlook for the army and for civilians looks increasingly desperate, so do the measures proposed by the government. Ashraf Ghani, the president, is trying to mobilise militias to shore up the flimsy army. He has turned for help to figures such as Atta Mohammad Noor, who rose to power as an anti-Soviet and anti-Taliban commander and is now a potentate and businessman in Balkh province. “No matter what, we will defend our cities and the dignity of our people,” said Mr Noor in his gilded reception hall in Mazar-i-Sharif, the key to holding the north (sounds like Game of Thrones). The thinking is that such a mobilisation would be a temporary measure to give the army breathing space and allow it to regroup and the new forces would co-ordinate with government troops to push back hard on the Taliban.

However this is Afghanistan. The prospect of unleashing warlords’ private armies fills many Afghans with dread, reminding them of the anarchy of the 1990s. Such militias, raised along ethnic lines, tended to turn on each other and the general population.

With America gone and Afghan forces melting away, the Taliban fancy their prospects. They show little sign of engaging in serious negotiations with Mr Ghani’s administration. Yet they control no major towns or cities. Sewing up the countryside puts pressure on the urban centres, but the Taliban may be in no hurry to force the issue. They generally lack heavy weapons. They may also lack the numbers to take a city against sustained resistance. On July 7th they failed to capture Qala-e-Naw, a small town. Besides, controlling a city would bring fresh headaches. They are not good at providing government services.

Perhaps the Taliban have learned their history lesson and might refrain from attacking Kabul this time around. Their best course may be to tighten the screws and wait for the government to buckle. American predictions of its fate are getting gloomier. Intelligence agencies think Mr Ghani’s government could collapse within six months, according to the Wall Street Journal. So clearly the momentum is on the side of the Taliban and they just need to chip away at Ghani’s forces one district after another until the inevitable and hateful surrender of the central Afghan government to their demands.

At the very least, the civil war is likely to intensify, as the Taliban press their advantage and the government fights for its life. Other countries - China, India, Iran, Russia and Pakistan - will seek to fill the vacuum left by America. Some will funnel money and weapons to friendly warlords. The result will be yet more bloodshed and destruction, in a country that has suffered constant warfare for more than 40 years. Those who worry about possible reprisals against the locals who worked as translators for the Americans are missing the big picture: America, Britain and other allies are abandoning an entire country of almost 40m people to a grisly fate.

Nothing exemplifies - at least in Afghan eyes - of all that has gone wrong with American involvement in Afghanistan than in the manner of their leaving.

The U.S. left Afghanistan's Bagram Airfield after nearly 20 years by shutting off the electricity and slipping away in the night without notifying the base's new Afghan commander, who discovered the Americans' departure more than two hours after they left in the middle of the night without raising any alarms.

They left behind 3.5 million items, including tens of thousands of bottles of water, energy drinks and military MRE's (Meals Ready to Eat ration packs to the uninitiated). Thousands of civilian vehicles were left, many without keys to start them, and hundreds of armoured vehicles. The Americans also left small weapons and ammunition, but the departing US troops took heavy weapons with them. Ammunition for weapons not left for the Afghan military was blown up.

Now that is some feat considering the logistics of this mass exodus without drawing any attention. You have obviously been to Bagram and so you will know just how big and sprawling it is. Bagram Airfield is the size of a small city, roadways weaving through barracks and past hangar-like buildings. There are two runways and more than 100 parking spots for fighter jets known as revetments. One of the two runways is 12,000 feet long and was built in 2006. There's a passenger lounge, a 50-bed hospital and giant hangar-size tents filled with furniture. And all those shops to remind Americans of home from familiar fast food restaurants and hairdressers and massage parlours to buying clothing and jewellery and buying a Harley Davidson motorbike (or so I’ve been told).

I’m guessing that the Afghans were certainly outside of the wire and probably had not been inside Bagram Airfield for months. So from the outset they would not have had any reason to think anything was going on until the generators probably ran out of fuel and it started to go a little too quiet. The inner gate was probably discretely left unlocked and when the US stopped answering the radio/phone and then they probably investigated.

Before the Afghan army could take control of the airfield about an hour's drive from the Afghan capital, Kabul, it was invaded by a small army of looters, who ransacked barrack after barrack and rummaged through giant storage tents before being evicted, according to Afghan troops. Afghan military leaders insist the Afghan National Security and Defense Force could hold on to the heavily fortified base despite a string of Taliban wins on the battlefield. The airfield includes a prison with about 5,000 prisoners, many of them allegedly Taliban members.

I’m pretty sure some bright spark in the US Pentagon public affairs dept convinced his military superiors that it was important to avoid the optics of Americans leaving in the same way they did in Vietnam in case it depresses the American public and the US military. Instead it demoralised its allies, the Afghan national army who are now the only line of defence against the Taliban.  In one night, they lost all the goodwill of 20 years by leaving the way they did, in the night, without telling the Afghan soldiers who were outside patrolling the area. The manner in which the Americans left Bagram air base amounts to a resounding vote of no confidence in Afghanistan’s future. It just looks bad.

The U.S. choice came with costs attached to each decision. With staying, the cost was potential U.S. troop casualties and a fear that things would not change on the ground. With leaving comes the cost of a deeper conflict in Afghanistan and a backsliding of progress made there over the past two decades. In many ways, the costs of staying seem shorter-term and borne by the United States, while the costs of leaving will be predominantly borne by Afghans over a longer time horizon. Yet, even if those costs seem remote now, history tells us that they will be blamed on the United States.

Biden perhaps reflective of history of Americans getting into quagmires abroad didn’t want to be seen exerting time and energy for a losing cause. His decision also reflects his administration’s foreign policy for the American middle-class paradigm, which focuses on domestic considerations over international ones (and is this so different from Trump’s “America First”? No, it is not). The irony, though, is that the American middle class largely doesn’t care about Afghanistan - their ambivalence gave way to support for this decision once it was announced, but it wouldn’t be hard to visualise the public approving of a scenario that kept a couple thousand troops there for a while longer.

What’s perhaps most disturbing is the narrative the president has presented along with the rationale for withdrawal: that America went to Afghanistan to defeat al-Qaida after 9/11, that mission creep led America to stay on too long and, therefore, it is time to get out. This takes an incomplete view of U.S. agency in the war in Afghanistan. The narrative implies that the civil conflict in Afghanistan today did not originate with America - that this more than 40-year war began with the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979, preceded America’s interference in Afghanistan, and will follow our departure.

The fact of the matter is that, by beginning the campaign in Afghanistan in 2001 and overthrowing the Taliban, who were then engaged in their draconian rule, and installing a new government, we western allies began a new phase of the Afghan conflict — one that pitted the Kabul government and the United States/Britain/NATO against the Taliban insurgency. The Afghan people did not have a say in the matter. That we allied powers are leaving Afghan women, children, and youth better off in many ways after 20 years is due to us, and we should be proud of that. But that we are leaving them mired in a bloody conflict is also due to us, because we could not hold off the Taliban insurgency, and we must all reckon publicly with that.

I have to ask myself why did we fail?

I’m only speaking about us Brits now as I’m sure you have your own thoughts as an ex-Marine officer of what you thought of the American military effort. Yes, I’m copping out of really bashing the yanks because first, I have too much respect for those fantastic American service men and women I did have the privilege to fight alongside with; and second, we Brits have nothing to crow about as we fucked up in lots of ways too, and to make things worse, we should have known better given our imperial history with Afghanistan.

The seeds of our failure in Afghanistan lies in not learning from history. We didn’t have a mission that was properly defined nor did we have a strategy that was clear, coherent, and easily communicated to both its fighting men and women as well as to the British public.

Were we there to get our hands bloody and to root out and destroy extreme Islamist terrorists or were we there to indulge in state building out of some idealistic notions of liberal humanitarianism? This question was at heart of our failure within our government and also within the British army as well as our relations with America and our NATO allies and finally the Afghans themselves.

Although never colonised in the same manner as other central and south Asian countries, the modern Afghan state is very much a creation borne out of great power rivalry. A land occupied by a number of different ethnic, linguistic and religious groups, it is a country whose borders were defined by, and whose sense of national identity was forged in response to western great power competition. Its geopolitical position - landlocked, mountainous, and surrounded by past great powers and present regional rivals - lends Afghanistan a dual role of geographic obscurity and great strategic significance, and has as such frequently been treated as little more than a buffer state between empires and a proxy of local powers. Its shared historical border with Russia and British India made it an object of imperial intrigue and, by consequence, has been subject to five European military interventions in the last 175 years.

The first three interventions of these occurred during the era of ‘the Great Game’ in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, in which Britain and Russia (latterly the Soviet Union) competed for influence and control over Afghan politics in order to protect their respective imperial holdings in India and central Asia.

The fourth and fifth interventions, ranging from the late 1970s to the present day, similarly involved attempts by Soviets and then by an American-led international coalition to remove political leaders acting against their interests and to protect their favoured candidates.

The unifying feature of all these conflicts was the idea of Afghanistan as the site of potential threats to the interests and security of more powerful states.

Britain’s legacy in Afghanistan in particular set the tone for the country’s historical pattern of conflict and political contestation, fuelling both the intermittent emergence of Afghan national consciousness and a fractious political lineage that saw thirteen amirs in just eighty years. Interventions by the Empire during the Great Game set the conditions for the assassination of ostensibly national leaders by their compatriots (Shah Shuja Durrani in the First war) or their exile by the British (Shere Ali Khan and Ayub Khan in the Second).

Despite the British achieving their aim of protecting India in the second and third conflicts by maintaining Afghanistan as either a pro-British buffer state or as a neutral party, the Afghan narrative tends to emphasise successes such as the massacre of British forces retreating from Kabul to Jalalabad in 1842, the defeat of British and Indian forces at Maiwand in 1880, and the gaining of sovereignty in foreign affairs in 1919.

Soviet intervention in the late 1970s and 1980s further buttressed this identity of resistance, and the failure and ultimate overthrow of the Communist-backed Najibullah government, as well as the collapse of the Soviet Union shortly after their drawdown from Afghanistan, led to a sense amongst the victorious mujahidin of the country as the ‘graveyard of empires’.

Afghanistan’s modern history should thus be seen as inextricably linked to the ebbs and flows of great power politics. Each intervention exacerbated extant internal power struggles between rival elite individuals and groups vying for nominal control over the country. Foreign intervention in Afghanistan was met on each occasion with fierce resistance from tribal militias coalesced around religion; as has been remarked upon by one historian of the country, the threat of external domination has been one of the few means of uniting its disparate population around the concept of an Afghan ‘nation’, and in most cases this shared sense of identity cohered around religion, not nationalism.

Indeed, the presence of intervening powers and the development of the Afghan state may be seen as mutually supporting: whilst most Afghan leaders throughout the last two centuries have asserted their sovereignty over the country, the reality has in most circumstances been one of competing tribal chiefs and/or ‘warlords’ rather than a single dominant leader.

Where leaders have managed to cohere the disparate tribal and ethnic groupings of the country under one banner - most notably under the regime of Dost Mohamed Khan (1826-1839, 1845-1863) – this was due in large part to their diplomatic abilities of compromise and co-optation with Afghanistan’s regional power- brokers. In other cases, such as that of the reign of Abdurrahman (1880- 1901), power was maintained by an unflinching ‘internal imperialism’ and the use of punitive force against rebellious factions.

The challenges of maintaining and projecting centralised power in Afghanistan allow us to see the relationship of its leaders with world or regional powers in the last two centuries as one of mutual exploitation. Throughout the Great Game and the Cold War, whilst the British/Americans and Russians/Soviets would use threats and bribes (and occasionally force) to compel Afghan rulers to comply with their geopolitical needs, Afghan rulers themselves often deftly manipulated those powers to maintain and extend their own power.

The pattern followed by Afghan leaders from the nineteenth century to the present day is remarkably similar in the respect that most have relied upon a rentierist economic model, seeking external aid in order to sustain the cost of security and administration. The plan of modern rulers was to warm Afghanistan with the heat generated by the great power conflicts without getting drawn into them directly. Abdurrahman, for example, used British subsidies to fund his military campaigns against rebellious factions; the Musahiban rulers of the mid-twentieth century used American capital to develop its nascent economic infrastructure and Soviet finance to bolster its armed forces; and, following the overthrow of the last royal leader of Afghanistan, Mohamed Daoud, in 1978, the quasi-communist leadership of Babrak Karmal, Hafizullah Amin, Nur Muhammad Taraki, and Mohammad Najibullah during the late 1970s and 1980s relied in the main on Soviet money and military assistance in its ultimately failed attempt to implement socialist policies and put down the American, Saudi and Pakistani-backed mujahidin.

These trends continued into the post-Cold War period in respect to both the Taliban movement (essentially directed and funded by Pakistan), the Northern Alliance (funded largely by former Soviet central Asian states) and the regime of Hamid Karzai (maintained in economic and military terms by the American-led, NATO-operated International Security Assistance Force and the wider international community). In the former cases, occurring in the main in the period of civil war between 1992 and 2001, rentierism was limited to the maintenance of proxy parties and the continuation of conflict.

By contrast, the ISAF mission bore similarities with the Soviet-backed socialist regimes of the 1980s, insofar as it focused huge amounts of capital and military resources on stabilisation and state-building efforts. Both intervening parties made the error of ignoring Afghanistan’s political history and focused their efforts on bolstering the authority of a centralised state, both promoted policies that were deemed ‘universal’ in their application and were, unsurprisingly given such hubris, vulnerable to accusations by Afghan opposition to being alien and imperialistic ideologies, and both expended enormous amounts of blood and treasure in order to sustain the regimes they supported.

The UK’s struggle to locate a coherent strategy for Afghanistan should, therefore, be seen firstly in the light of the historical problematic of Afghan state-building. This is important in narrative terms because difficulties of defining strategy imply similar challenges in explaining strategy. As with its efforts to ‘think’ strategically, Britain’s ability to explain the strategy(ies) for the war in Afghanistan have been frequently criticised by various commentators. The most strategically debilitating aspect of the Afghan campaign has always been the incoherence of the mission’s purpose; indeed the question ‘‘why are we in Afghanistan?’’ has never really been settled in public consciousness. The international community massively underestimated the difficulties of state-building and greatly overstretched themselves in the commitments made to Afghanistan, and that they did so because ‘strategies’ for Afghanistan rested on assumptions of the universal applicability of liberal state-building.

The international community from the start (meaning from the Bonn Conference of late 2001) fundamentally misunderstood the nature of an Afghan society deeply ravaged by decades of conflict, and failed to foresee the malign effects state-building ventures would have on the country. Specifically, the Bonn Conference, which set out the parameters of the post-invasion Afghan state, implemented a centralised state system onto a state whose experience of such was limited, and where the success of such a system in extending its authority beyond the major cities was predicated on coercion and the use of force.

Historically this has rarely been a credible option for Afghan rulers or their international backers, and was even less so under the self-imposed restrictions of liberal war-fighting and state-building. Rather, re-creating a centralised state required Afghan and international actors to enter into the same methods of co-optation and compromise as those of the past; in necessitating these kind of measures – as opposed to implementing a looser, federal system of governance – the centralisation of the Afghan state paved the way for a reconstitution of a ruling order based on tribal elements and ‘strongmen’. This produced something of a paradox for state-builders, as the creation of a strong, central state capable of implementing liberal policies across Afghanistan came at the cost of entering into alliances with ‘warlords’ known for their illiberal and coercive political approaches and illicit economic activities.

Another unintended but unavoidable consequence of centralised state-building identified by scholars is the re-constitution of the rentier state in Afghanistan. Post-Bonn, Afghanistan returned to its historical norm of maintaining the state via the extraction of external security and development rents, without which it would almost certainly implode due to the ruinous state of its economy and taxation system. Studies have shown that his new rentierism differed from previous patronage systems at the state level insofar as it was fuelled by an unprecedented influx of capital and resources into the country. This had the effect of introducing regulated systems of ‘neo-patrimonalism’, where departments were to be distributed as rewards to the various factions that took part in the Bonn conference, and there had to be enough rewards to go around.

In other words, the structure of the post-invasion Afghan state was, to a great extent, defined not by the demands of good governance, the needs of the country or the demands of post-conflict stabilisation and reconstruction – the purposes for which the centralised model was chosen to promote – but rather by the first-order need to avoid the derailment of the centralised state by co-opting regional power brokers.

Because of the imperative of shoring up a nascent state by securing support from potential competitors, the gulf between the ends of liberal state-building and the illiberal means required to facilitate its functioning can therefore be seen to a certain extent as inevitable.

A major issue, however, was that the patrimonial linkages created by the state for its regional proxies was not comprehensive, as it did not extend to the Taliban’s Pashtun heartland and, as such, fuelled resentment and alienation as much as they placated and co- opted extra-state power brokers. Key players in the Northern Alliance - the primarily Tajik opposition to the Taliban - received prestigious posts within the state, whilst the predominantly Pashtun Taliban were themselves excluded from such arrangements. Because those rewarded by the state tended to be given ministerial or governorial roles in cities, the conflict dynamic tended to reflect an urban – rural divide similar to that of the Soviet occupation. Along this reading, the neo-Taliban insurgency was in many ways a product of the political miscalculations and deficiencies of post-invasion state- building activities.

Given this starting point, such a view concludes that the strategic problems encountered by the international community in Afghanistan were, to a large degree, problems created by (or at the very least exacerbated by) the state-builders themselves. They misread Afghan politics in a way that reflected their own philosophical assumptions about the state and society.

Strategy in Afghanistan suffered because the coalition effort, comprised of multiple national actors and the United Nations, rarely took on the form of a unified effort. Part of the reason for this was a divergence of opinion between actors as to the ultimate purpose – counter-terrorism or state-building – of the intervention.

In the first years of the Afghan campaign, the United States’ Bush Administration remained staunchly opposed to what it called ‘nation building’ and opted instead to pursue a policy of capture- or-kill missions against suspected terrorists. For the United Nations and most of the United States’ European NATO allies, however, state-building was considered a necessary element of any counter-terrorist strategy. This difference of opinion was manifest from the start by the creation of two parallel missions – the US-led, counter-terrorism-focused Operation Enduring Freedom (OEF) and the stabilisation missions of the European Union, United Nations (United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan (UNAMA)) and NATO (International Security Assistance Force (ISAF)) – engaged in seemingly incompatible aims of military prosecution and peace building.

Opinion on the impact of this dual approach varies. Some scholars have noted, along lines similar to those critiquing the state-building efforts of the international community that the approach taken by the UN, EU and ISAF was too ambitious, naïve and unrealistic, and therefore bound to fall short of their liberal political and economic goals. Both Europe and these international agencies ignored the necessity of paring down the international community’s state-building efforts to core, security-centric capacity building within the Afghan National Security Forces. But of course one can make the counter argument, as many have of course, that on the contrary it was the insufficiencies of state-building approaches vis-à-vis OEF’s counter-terrorist approach that led to subsequent failures in UN and ISAF efforts; specifically, that a disproportionate focus on counter-terrorism missions meant that opportunities of peace- building were irreparably compromised.

Within NATO there was a division not just of opinions but also one of mission relating to different political perspectives about the purpose of the Afghan mission and its ultimate referent object – whether it was primarily about the interests of the coalition member states or concerned in the main with Afghanistan itself – and, from that, the methods to be employed in pursuit of one or another objective. This was not merely a debate bounded by strategic necessity, however; rather, such debates stemmed as much from institutional disagreements over who would or could do what in Afghanistan, which in turn arose from the differences in political constitutions and cultural attitudes towards counterinsurgency and counter- terrorism.

These ‘national caveats’ or ‘red cards’ of participation created significant problems for NATO in Afghanistan, both political, in terms of the relations between states and the abiding sense amongst some that others were ‘free-riding’ on the collective security system and, and strategic and operational, in the sense that command-and-control capabilities and cohesion between forces were limited by the engagement restrictions placed on certain armed forces. Indeed, the disproportionate burden placed on combat-oriented states like the United States, the United Kingdom, and several new member states in Eastern Europe led to political statements denouncing Europe’s perceived transgressors of collective security participation; former US Defence Secretary Robert Gates argued, for example, that NATO had effectively become a ‘two-tier alliance’ ‘between members who specialise in ‘soft’ humanitarian, development, peacekeeping and talking tasks and those conducting the ‘hard’ combat missions - between those willing and able to pay the price and bear the burdens of alliance commitments, and those who enjoy the benefits of NATO membership... but don’t want to share the risks and the costs’.

A lack of strategic unity was the natural consequence of a structural compromise that produced two distinct strategic authorities that were, in many ways, competing with one another. Along similar lines to the political arrangements between the Afghan state and its regional proxies, the NATO alliance structure can be seen (and evidently is seen by officials such as Gates) as patrimonial: states participated on the basis of fulfilling their own interests and along operational lines that were complementary to those interests, for the purposes of securing an alliance structure that accommodated all participants ahead of the imperative of creating a coherent strategy for stabilising Afghanistan. As with the neo-patrimonialism of the Karzai regime NATO’s efforts would be dictated by the limitations imposed upon it by circumstance.

Thus, in the cases of Afghanistan’s and the international community’s internal political dynamics, strategy was confined by the structure of the Afghan state and society, the structure of the international community and NATO, and the interplay between those structures. The implication here is that the agency required for the possibility of a workable strategy may have been illusory from the start.

Leaving Afghanistan was never going to be pretty, but the latest turn is uglier than expected.

No one quite expected the speed of collapse within the Afghan National Army to hold of attacks of the Taliban. I don’t think it’s do with the lack of training or their professional skills is lacking (though there may be some truth in it). A big driver in the collapse is the money for wages, food and medical care for troops is syphoned to Dubai, so the Afghans who want to fight, and there are quite a few who hate the Taliban, get less replenishment than the 6th army in the last weeks of Stalingrad. They have arms, ammo and boots for this season only and that is it. Both money and morale are in short supply for these soldiers.

If I was a trained soldier in the Afghan National Army I would desert. I would say to them abandon the fixed defences these ‘ferenghis’ (foreigners) have gifted you and move to the hills and seek refuge with your tribal clan, who will be glad of the arms and experience you bring. Or get over the border if you are lucky to be in the North, if in the West you hire yourself to the Narcos in the badlands on the Iran border. Most other places it is either a last stand or defection, your Government and their relatives have already got their planes fuelled up in Kabul ready to move to their villa complexes in the UAE.

I’m being a trifle cynical but for good reason. Everyone who has been to Afghanistan sees the veil lifted on the corruption of aid and how the elites protect themselves ahead of defending the masses who bear the brunt of the bloodshed.

The corruption has been endemic from the get go, but the international community ignored it all for 'progress'. Any Afghan politico you hear on the media complaining about the West abandoning Afghanistan has at least $30 million parked in Dubai that should have gone to the soldiers, teachers, doctors, builders etc.

As spectacular as the collapse of the Afghan National Army has been it’s been even more scarier seeing how swift the Taliban has been in taking over vital provincial areas through propaganda, civilian intimidation, and rapid attacks. One by one, the Taliban has been taking over areas in a number of provinces in northern Afghanistan in recent weeks. The Taliban says it has taken control of 90 districts across the country since the middle of May. Some were seized without a single shot fired.

The UN's special envoy on Afghanistan, Deborah Lyon put the figure lower, at 50 out of the nation's 370 districts, but feared the worst was yet to come. Most districts that have been taken surround provincial capitals, suggesting that the Taliban are positioning themselves to try and take these capitals once all foreign forces are fully withdrawn. On a map, it's easy to see the point Lyon is making. A stark example is Mazar-i-Sharif, the biggest city in the north and a significant power centre in its own right. It was the rock upon which the Northern Alliance fought against the Taliban.

It is significant the Taliban are kicking off this offensive in the north, not their heartland in the south and east. The north was the toughest part of the country for them to crack last time. Their expectation is if they have victory there, success will flow much easier in their traditional homelands further south.

The strategy of taming the north extends to emasculating and profiting from trade routes to neighbours. On Monday night they captured the important border town of Shir Khan Bandar, Afghanistan's main crossing into Tajikistan. Earlier in the day, top Tajik government officials had met to discuss concerns about the growing instability next door. There is no indication that the Taliban intend to take their fight north of the border, but in the past Tajikistan has been a vital conduit for supplies flowing to the militants' northern enemies.

The last time the Taliban controlled the city was 20 years ago, when they left hundreds of captives in steel trucking containers to suffocate and die in the scorching desert heat. Now, the militants are back at the city gates once again, as part of a lightning offensive against Afghan government forces that has set alarm bells ringing from Kabul to Washington. So it should worry us all where will all this lead to.

America's drawdown seems to be the game changer. The Taliban have been beaten back several times in recent years, notably from Kunduz in 2015. The Taliban captured it briefly before US airstrikes were called in. Civilian casualties were high but the militants were driven out. The militant group has never been able to withstand the heavy US and NATO air assaults backing Afghan ground forces, but now the US and NATO are leaving, so is much of the threat of sophisticated and sustained air power. And the Taliban are well aware of this.

It seems to me behind the choice of withdrawal by the Biden government lies a bigger assumption that drives that choice. That is the Taliban militants' perceived desire for international recognition. This has been the mantra underpinning the American exit. The logic of the American argument has been simple: The Taliban wouldn't renege on their agreements with the US because they crave international acceptance. The events of this past week and more appear to blow a hole in that assumption.

Another assumption that’s currently being blown out of the water is the US establishing some presence outside of Afghanistan so that if it needs to intervene again to combat terrorism or flush out militants then it can do so from the safety of a neighbouring country. But so far no country has come forward to reciprocate. And why would they? Like the Afghans, no one likes foreign troops with boots on the ground in their country. Only the central Asian republics and possibly Pakistan would come close to allowing that but there would be a political cost those governments would pay with their people. Moreover by welcoming the Americans in, they also allow the militants to target that country too.

Another assumption is the nature of the Taliban support and links to terrorist groups. The U.S. may not face any serious post-withdrawal Afghan support of extremist threats to the United States, even if the Taliban does take over. It is all too true that the Taliban continues to talk to the remnants of Al Qaeda, as do elements of the Pakistani military. It is unclear, however, that these remnants of Al Qaeda focus on attacks on the U.S., and the Taliban does seem to oppose ISIS. It is also unclear that the Taliban will host other extremist movements that focus on attacking the U.S. or states outside the region.

It is unclear that any key element of the Taliban has an interest in such attacks on the United States. Even Al Qaeda now focuses largely on objectives inside Islamic countries, and it is unclear that some other major extremist force will emerge in Afghanistan that do not focus on regional threats and on taking over vulnerable, largely Islamic states.

At the same time, one needs to be careful about the assumption that the U.S. can defeat any such threats by launching precision air and missile strikes against extremist targets. It is unclear that the forces in Afghanistan involved in any small covert attacks on the U.S. will be easy to target and cripple if they do emerge. The Taliban is unlikely to tolerate major training camps and facilities for extremist forces, and any such strikes will present major problems for the U.S. if the extremist threat consists of scattered small facilities and small expert cadres that shelter among the Afghan population.

It is also far from clear that more intense U.S. air attacks on Taliban forces from outside Afghanistan will have any decisive effects. The loss of limited numbers of Taliban fighters as well as some key Taliban leaders and facilities will not offset the pace of their victories in the countryside or enable the central government to survive. A continuing U.S. ability to target and kill some key Taliban leaders and fighters also does not mean that the risk of such strikes will deter future Taliban willingness to let small, extremist strike groups conduct well-focused, well-planned strikes on U.S. or allied territory, especially if such groups in Afghanistan sponsor attacks on the U.S. or it strategic partner by strike units or cadres based in other countries.

At the same time, it does seem more likely that the Taliban, and/or any independent extremist groups, will focus largely on Iran, Pakistan, Russia, China, and the other “-Stans.”

Going forward I think we need to re-evaluate many of our assumptions about the war in Afghanistan.

The objectives of the Authorised Use of Military Force approved by the US Congress in 2001 have long been accomplished. Once Osama bin Laden was killed in Operation Neptune Spear in 2011, the last element of the AUMF was met. The American and British mission in Afghanistan was complete. But America and Britain did not leave because we wanted to do a spot of state building to curb the spread of militant islamist terror. That was a mistake as it turned out.

Post-Neptune Spear, The American, the British, and their  allies’ conventional mission should have been ended, adopting instead a laser focus on intelligence collection and offensive special operations to prevent al-Qaeda (or any terrorist organisation) from re-establishing safe havens and training areas.

What was needed for an acceptable ‘victory’ and a ‘saving face’ withdrawal  was to embrace the use of Afghan Militia Forces the same way the Allies did for our initial entry way back in 2001.

In 2001, Western powers won the initial military engagement in 42 days using special operations forces with local and regional allies - we need to return to this format - and through a combination of special operations and specific information operations efforts, regaining the high ground and influence over ‘centres of gravity’. The issue is not the number of troops, but the mission of the forces there. Once the mission is defined, the number of forces needed would be clear.

It has never been about the number of troops - it’s been about the lack of an achievable mission assigned to our forces in Afghanistan.

The US engaged in ‘nation-building’ for the wrong reasons - and has seen bad results. We installed Hamid Karzai, served as his praetorian guard to protect the new central government and abandon our AMF allies and attempted to build a large, bulky, expensive and ineffective Afghan National Army - a force that is now evaporating before our eyes. It was folly.

Americans will never make the Afghan people more like them - nor will they be able to instil what my American colleagues used to fondly refer to as ‘a Jeffersonian democracy’ in Afghanistan. That day may come but only when the Afghan people wish it to be so. Lest it be forgotten Americans sought independence in 1776; the Afghan people seek self-reliance and independence from foreign influence. This is their defining historical DNA: escape from any outside control.

The Afghan people are not ungoverned, they are self-governed - with no tradition of central democracy and no desire for our version of democracy or ‘prosperity’. By pushing ‘prosperity’ we had become targets for both the Afghan government and the Taliban. This has ended, but we must draw a distinction between the end of nation-building and the continuation of our own interests in Afghanistan and the region.

It is time to adopt a practical policy based on what will work and is in our allied interests, rather than by funding the aspirations of progressive politicians who have no real understanding of Afghanistan.

First, we must establish a clear post-‘state-building’ strategy - with achievable objectives. We must return to the policy and operational format we know will work - cooperation with Afghan tribal leaders and militia. This type of force was used to achieve the initial victory in 2001. Empowered warlords and regional leaders were the force multiplier that worked as the Afghan Militia Forces - and can again, in partnership with our Special Operations Forces work now. Intelligence collection and limited military operations should be our focus.

There is no way around it. One has to play the Great Game. Think tribal rather than central. Afghan nationhood is a liberal Western wet dream.

The central government is weak and corrupt just like all the other rulers of the past. The Afghan National Army is not as strong as it is on paper. It can hardly prop itself up rather than any government. Most of the Afghan National Army troops have stronger tribal loyalties than to the concept of a nation. Since the tribal chiefs play both sides to hedge their bets, it's no wonder 'their' people do what they're told. The Taliban know this because that has always been the Afghan way, so the tribes go with them. Provided the Taliban honour their promises to the tribal chiefs, the Taliban can do what they want.

On one hand, the tribes won't now be too bothered by central government and have a large pool of Western-trained troops to prop them up. On the other hand, they now have to do business formally with the Taliban again. Largely in order to get their hands on Western-supplied aid that will surely follow after the Americans leave.

Second, we must accept the reality of Pakistani influence in Afghanistan - and work with the Pakistanis to counter al-Qaeda and the other militants now attacking Pakistani targets within Pakistan. Pakistan has made great advances in securing the tribal areas on the other side of the border and they have always been the de facto control of much of the Taliban force capacity, such as the Haqqani network. Working with Pakistan is the best option within the current circumstance.

‘Endless wars’ are not an American value. The use of the US military must only be used in response to genuine threats, when American interests are at stake or lives in danger. Withdrawal of conventional military forces and discontinuing nation building is in the US interest: leaving Afghanistan is not.

Third, make Afghanistan China’s problem. Afghanistan could easily become a hotbed for growing Islamic extremism, which would to some extent affect stability in Xinjiang.

It is not without reason that Afghanistan is known as the “graveyard of empires”. The ancient Greeks, the Mongols, the Mughals, the British, the Soviet Union and most recently the US have all launched vainglorious invasions that saw their ambitions and the blood of their soldiers drain into the sand. But after each imperial retreat, a new tournament of shadows begins. With the US pulling out of Afghanistan, China is casting an anxious gaze towards its western frontier and pursuing talks with an ascendant Taliban. The burning questions are not only whether the Taliban can fill the power vacuum created by the US withdrawal but also whether China - despite its longstanding policy of “non-interference” - may become the next superpower to try to write a chapter in Afghanistan’s history.

Beijing has held talks with the Taliban and although details of the discussions have been kept secret, government officials, diplomats and analysts from Afghanistan, India, China and the US said that crucial aspects of a broad strategy were taking shape. An Indian government official said China’s approach was to try to rebuild Afghanistan’s shattered infrastructure in co-operation with the Taliban by channelling funds through Pakistan, one of Beijing’s firmest allies in the region. China is Pakistan’s wallet.

It has been reported that Beijing has been insisting that the Taliban limit its ties with groups that it said were made up of Uyghur terrorists in return for such support. The groups, which Beijing refers to as the East Turkestan Islamic Movement, are an essential part of China’s security calculus in the region. The ETIM groups were estimated by the UN Security Council last year to number up to 3,500 fighters, some of whom were based in a part of Afghanistan that borders China.  Both the UN and the US designated the ETIM as terrorists in 2002 but Washington dropped its classification last year. China has accused the ETIM of carrying out multiple acts of terrorism in Xinjiang, its north-western frontier region, where Beijing has kept an estimated 1m Uyghur and other minority peoples in internment camps.

In a clear indication of Beijing’s determination to counter the ETIM, Wang Yi, China’s foreign minister, exhorted counterparts from the central Asian states of Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan and Turkmenistan this year to co-operate to smash the group. “We should resolutely crack down on the ‘three evil forces’ [of extremism, terrorism and separatism] including the East Turkestan Islamic Movement,” Wang said in May according to Chinese news media which I follow.

The importance of this task derived in part from the need to protect large-scale activities and projects to create a safe Silk Road. Silk Road is one of the terms that Chinese officials use to refer to the Belt and Road Initiative, the signature foreign policy strategy of President Xi Jinping to build infrastructure and win influence overseas.

An important part of China’s motivation in seeking stability in Afghanistan is protecting existing BRI projects in Pakistan and the central Asian states while potentially opening Afghanistan to future investments. China would have to more actively support efforts to ensure political stability in Afghanistan. So make them work for it. Western powers need to leverage China’s problems in Xinjiang to be more active in Afghanistan.

International media outlets and intelligence agencies worldwide have been circulating reports pointing toward the creation of a Chinese military base in the Wakhan Corridor of Afghanistan’s Badakhshan province for a while now. Although China has not embarked on militarisation programs on foreign soil historically, and has profusely denied the rumours about building an Afghan “mountain brigade,” China’s first overseas military base in Djibouti provides an example of China’s newly adopted strategy of leveraging economic influence to further its strategic objectives. There’s even some chatter amongst Chinese officials that Beijing may entertain the idea of being part of a future UN international force should one be needed in Afghanistan (a bad idea but hey, let China find out first hand for itself).

The Afghan government was able to maintain a measure of stability largely because of the superiority of US air support. The drones, gunships, helicopters and heavy air artillery were unmatched by the Taliban. But when the US leaves, that advantage will evaporate. China’s imperative to create overland trade routes to Europe and the Middle East may draw it inevitably into Afghanistan’s domestic strife.

Of course China’s forward policy in the Wakhan Corridor needs to be assessed with a critical eye. Although on one level it seems to be motivated primarily by the threat of radicalisation, China’s interest in the region is also contingent on the strategic role that Afghanistan is capable of playing in the larger scheme of things. Despite China’s vehement denial, there seems to be sufficient evidence available indicating a definite military build up in the region, which provides China with an opportunity to showcase its ability to transform into a balancing force in the regional dynamics. I think that is a trade off that both America and Europe can afford to concede under the current circumstances.

In conclusion In the face of failure, there is an impulse to move on and not ask “what led to this?” But to avoid a reckoning with our follies is to risk their repetition, or worse.

it is probably too late to salvage either the civil or military situation in Afghanistan. It almost certainly is too late to salvage it with limited in-country U.S. forces, outside U.S. airpower and intelligence assets, and with no real peace agreement or functional peace process. Limited military measures are not the answer, and neither is simply reinforcing the past processes of failure. Tragic as it may be, withdrawal may not solve anything and may well make conditions worse for millions of Afghans, but reinforcing failure is not a meaningful strategy.

I do feel strongly that both the American and British governments must establish a clear path of redemption so that those who served and the families who sacrificed loved ones know that their loss was not wasted. At the same time our civilian governments must limit missions to intelligence collection and counter-terrorism missions that will prevent the metastasis of al-Qaeda or Isis in the region should the Afghan government fall. How we balance these two is going to be very interesting to follow in the next chapter in Afghanistan’s tortured history.

I apologise for the length of this post. This has been a hard post to write because of the subject matter and the many conflicted emotions and memories I have of my time in Afghanistan. I wish I had all the answers but I suppose the beginning of wisdom would be to know how to ask the right questions. Because we didn’t ask the right questions when we went in, we ended up making a real mess of it.

There is an understandable desire to bring all our allied troops home safe and that not another life is lost there. Yet I doubt this policy of withdrawing all troops will bring peace to anyone, not to us and most of all, the Afghanis themselves. As always in war it is the native population that will bear the real cost of war, in this case women, girls, and others brutalised under Taliban rule. What lies for them if the Taliban regain power to govern the country in their image is something I care not to imagine but retain a deep foreboding of their continued suffering. Ordinary Afghanis just want a respite from war and have a chance to live in peace, but without having us foreigners or the Taliban around. It is hard to imagine that happening at all. Our desire to save our soldiers’ lives set against ordinary Afghanis being left at the mercy of the Taliban is one of those humbling and brutalising trade offs that any war can only offer.

Near the end of his famed novel, The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald described two of his privileged characters, Tom and Daisy, as “careless people” who “smashed up things and creatures” and then “retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness” to “let other people clean up the mess they had made.”

That description applies to America as a whole but also to we Brits and other Europeans, especially when we tire of a misguided war. Americans and we Brits are a careless people. In both Iraq and Afghanistan, we smashed up things and human beings with abandon, only to retreat into our materialism. No scratch that, returning soldiers retreated into themselves struggling with PTSD whilst the rest of our citizenry carried on with their own material struggles and their insipid culture wars. The point is we always leave others to clean up the mess in a very bloody fashion that never troubles our conscience.

Count on us, probably sooner rather than later, doing precisely the same thing in Afghanistan. Again.

Thanks for your question

[iamanartichoke]

I wasn't sure if I was going to post this, but I may as well.

I keep starting to reply to things and then stopping bc the words just aren't there, and I suppose I figured out the core of what bothers me so much (and is making me have such a rollercoaster of a fan experience) about the show.

(cut for length)

It's not well-written. My opinion is my opinion, so I'm saying this subjectively, take it or leave it, but ... I feel that it's not well-written. The overall story is fine, and the plot is fine, but I don't know if it's because of the limited number of episodes not being enough to house the story, or because of the relative inexperience of the writer/showrunner+director, or both, or something else, but -

In an earlier reaction post to episode 4, I mentioned really wanting to sink my teeth into all of the subtext I picked up on. That was what made me initially enjoy the episode so much - there were a lot of little moments that I initially felt revealed so much about the characters and about Loki, and I wanted to analyze them. But at some point, as I gathered more information, my perspective changed and now I no longer want to analyze the subtext bc ... subtext = good. Subtext w/out payoff = not as good.

I'll go into more detail in a moment, but I think the tl;dr of it is that I feel like the narrative requires the audience to work way too hard to put together all of the moving pieces here and, like, I kinda just don't want to do that work? Not so much of it, and not in vain. A lot of the enjoyment of Loki's characterization is coming from fans who are rationalizing why he's behaving as he is, but the narrative never actually confirms those rationalizations. It's asking us to figure it out and maybe our conclusions will be correct but maybe they won't, though. At some point, subtext isn't enough without explicit follow-through.

I thought my issue was with the lack of character development - that is, not having enough narrative space to really earn the big things that are happening now, like Loki/Sylvie or Mobius turning against the TVA. And that's still true, to an extent; I still feel like the pacing is all very off and it seems like most of these things kinda came out of nowhere (but are not unbelievable - just undeveloped).

But, yknow, it is what it is, it's a limited series, and I can excuse some things. Ultimately, my issue isn't a problem with what the narrative isn't doing, it's a problem with what the narrative already failed to do and probably cannot recover from at this point.

The narrative has left out significant details that should at least help us do some of the work here. If a person turned on Loki and started episode 1 and had no background knowledge of the character besides that he tried to take over New York - how would that person interpret Loki? Would that person say, oh, well, he's been through X, Y, and Z, and plus A happened, not to mention B, C, and D, so really, it makes sense that he seems off-the-rails, or that he'd want to get ridiculously drunk at the worst time ever.

Maybe we'd like to believe they would, but how would they be getting to that conclusion? The narrative hasn't led them in that direction so, no, they would not say well we have to consider this, this, and that. It would be impossible to really understand Loki as a character from just what we've gotten in the series. The general audience would probably interpret Loki as being out of his element and so it becomes, I wonder how this character is going to get the upper hand here. And, while that's not wrong, it's just so limited.

The narrative at face value does not address Loki's identity crisis from Thor 2011. It does not address his hurt and devastation at being lied to, nor does it address how complicated his self-image is (bc it sucked to begin with and that was before he found out he was part of a race of "monsters," as he'd been taught his entire life). It does not reference Loki being so broken at the end of Thor 2011 that he deliberately let himself fall into the void of space (aka tried to kill himself). It does not reference that he was tortured by Thanos or even that he went through a seriously dark time in between Thor and Avengers, and it absolutely does not reference or address any influence or control of the mind stone.

These are all things that we, the fan audience, know because we've already invested our time into this character's story. But tons of people, the general audience, wouldn't know these things. Or if they did, bc they saw Thor and Avengers, they wouldn't be thinking about them as deeply as we would, nor contextualizing them with how Loki is behaving now, or why it would make sense that he needed to get drunk, or why it's understandable that he needs to keep going-going-going in order to not have a spare second to think or feel.

They'd probably look at Loki, again, as a character who was a villain and is now getting his comeuppance in a place where he has no power or control, and no literal powers, and even when he manages to escape and catch up to the variant, he proceeds to fuck up their plan for seemingly no real reason except that he wanted to get drunk bc he's hedonistic. Which Sylvie even berates him for! I mean. This is not exactly a complex character breakdown, nor a very flattering one, but that's what the narrative has given us.

(If the narrative has addressed Loki's mind control, his torture, his mental breakdown, his suicide attempt, and his general shitty self-esteem as a result of his upbringing, please point it out to me. If the narrative has explicitly acknowledged and referenced these things anywhere and I am missing it, please show me where. Please explain to me how the casual viewer would know any of these things that they need to know in order to actually understand what's happening in this story.)

So I mean, okay, we have a narrative that doesn't paint a full, accurate picture of Loki. Fine, sure. But because the general audience starts out on the wrong footing, they're not going to get out of the overall story what the writers probably intended them to. For example, in episode 3, a lot of us theorized that Loki had some kind of plan - that he broke the timepad on purpose, for some reason, bc otherwise it wasn't believable that he'd be such a failure. But episode 4 revealed that no, there was no bigger plan, Loki just plain old messed up. Which is fine if, again, one is only considering the surface-level portrayal here, but it's not true to Loki's actual characterization.

I mean. Loki is not perfect and Loki actually fails a lot, this is true. He fails for a lot of reasons, but incompetence has never been one of them. Usually it's that either things grew beyond his control, or there ended up being too many moving parts, or he had to change his plan at the last minute due to some roadblock or another being thrown his way, or even that he got in his own way - whatever the case may be for his plans' failures, he was always at least shown to know what he was doing.

That wasn't the case here. The "plan" to fix the Timepad failed as a direct result of Loki's actions, which were careless and made him seem incompetent, like he couldn't even handle this mission. "You had one job," etc. And there were pretty big consequences for this; they were not able to get off-world in time and would have been killed had the TVA not shown up at the last second.

And maybe none of these things matter bc the writers never intended any of this to be a reflection on Loki's character, positive or negative. The situation exists solely because the writers needed to put Loki and Sylvie together in some kind of hopeless scenario so that they could get closer, and thus the narrative could set up their romance. I get that - but, there were other ways to do it that didn't require Loki to look foolish.

Furthermore, the whole reason they needed to set up the romance is to show Loki eventually learning to love himself (like, figuratively but also literally). The audience is supposed to gather that Loki and Sylvie fell for one another, possibly due to the high emotional aspect of, yknow, being about to die (in addition to the variant-bond). The intent is clear: Loki and Sylvie almost die but get rescued at the last minute, having now created an emotional bond --> Loki and Sylvie team up and the narrative further establishes that Loki, at least, has caught feelings --> Loki might confess them but is pruned before he gets the chance --> he somehow survives, he and Sylvie are reunited and don't want to lose one another again, and the combined power of their love is enough to break the sacred timeline and spawn the multiverse, and the reason that the power of their love is so, well, powerful is because it's about self-love and self-acceptance as much as it is about having the capacity to love someone else. The end.

I get all that. The writers more or less said all that. And, I mean, it's certainly not the way I would have chosen to go about it, but it's a fair enough arc to explore. I don't really have an issue with the intent - but my question, however, is this: if the narrative has so far not addressed Loki's background issues (as outlined above), and has furthermore kinda gone out of its way to portray Loki as hedonistic and narcissistic, among other things (like kinda incompetent), and the context the audience starts with is that Loki's this villain who deserves what he gets -

- my question is 1, why should the audience care whether or not Loki gets to a point of loving and accepting himself (thus to make the theme of self-love, via the romance, hold weight) if they don't know that he hates himself to begin with and 2, why should the audience root for Loki to reach that point when so far the perception of him is that he's "kind of an asshole"? if he's a hedonistic narcissist, he probably already has a pretty inflated sense of himself, right? A misplaced inflated sense of himself, at that, because, again, the narrative has made him out to be not that capable of much of anything. (And it didn't start out that way! It seemed to start out with Loki being capable and intelligent but it's like episode 3, in trying to set up the romance, just jumbled it all up somewhere. I think this is why I'm harping on the Loki/Sylvie aspect so much - it's frustrating bc it kinda messes up the whole story and can't even accomplish what it's supposed to anyway.)

Anyway, that's beside the point. What I'm ultimately getting at is, at what point is the audience supposed to get invested in Loki's personal growth journey?

They can't, not really. Without understanding and having the context of everything Loki has been through up until now, and why he hates himself, and why it's so important that he learn to love himself, then the "payoff" becomes kinda pointless bc the significance of it is lost in translation. So suddenly we're left with this romance that comes off as either "Loki loves Sylvie bc of Reasons" (best-case scenario) or "Loki loves Sylvie bc he's vain, narcissistic, and kinda twisted" (worst-case scenario). Neither of these conclusions are what the writers intended or were going for, I'm positive, but there we are, regardless.

In order for the writers' intent in these storylines to land, they need to address the context of what makes these particular stakes high for Loki. So far, they haven't done that. They're asking the audience to pick up on all of these things, and they're showing things that subtextually make sense and are relatively in-character - but only if you realize there's subtext in the first place.

But you can't expect the audience to do all of the work for you. If you don't want the audience to think that Loki is a narcissistic asshole and instead you are trying to convey that, worst-case scenario, he thinks he's a narcissist but is an unreliable narrator, then you have to address that. If you need the audience to understand why you're going the selfcest route and why it's important to explore Loki's capacity to love himself and others, you have to address where that exploration is starting from and why it matters. Etc etc etc.

The narrative isn't doing any of that. And it isn't like it'd be that hard to do it. They don't need to reinvent the wheel here; a lot of the pieces are already there. A few lines of dialogue for context, a brief scene here or there addressing the issues, a little more care and consistency in how Loki handles things - these are all little things that could go a long fucking way in making the narrative stronger.

I'm rambling. My basic point is that my rollercoaster of emotions with this show is because

- as a part of the fan audience, not the general one, I can contextualize and analyze the subtext and come to the conclusions the show wants me to, and thus find the story and the characters more or less enjoyable,

- but I am also going to be using the subtext to come to conclusions that aren't there but probably should be (I think it would be a better story, for example, for Loki to confuse platonic love with romantic love bc it would pave the way to explore just how fucked up Loki's understanding of love - whether of other people or of himself, and the different forms it can take - actually is)

- and when they're ultimately not there, then I think, okay why am I bothering doing all this work just to ultimately feel very unfulfilled? They don't even have to write it the way I would, I'm not saying that, but they do have to do something to make the story feel rewarding.

If we don't get some confirmation of what Loki's been through, and where his headspace is, and why it matters for him to love himself, then the story remains pretty shallow and, for me, it's not fulfilling enough. It's not engaging enough. There isn't actually anything to sink my teeth into, so it becomes kind of boring. Maybe it's rewarding to other people, and that's great for them, but like - I need more than whatever this is.

So I'm just like - well, I had a lot of worries about this show, but my being bored wasn't one of them and now there's only two episodes left and am I really not going to get anything out of this, in the long run? No new canons, no new depths or layers, no new information on Loki's experiences? This is it?

I don't dislike it. I didn't start out disliking it, and I probably wont end up disliking it. I mean, there are a lot of good moments, and good things, and fan service-y things that I appreciate. As far as inspiration for fic goes, it's a goldmine, both plot-wise as well as aesthetic-wise. All of that is great. I don't dislike this show.

But I am disappointed in it, and I feel like I'll be watching the next two episodes lacking the sense of anticipation that would make it exciting. I'll still enjoy them, probably, if for nothing else just the sheer Loki content, but whatever it was I felt watching episodes 1 and 2 is gone and I'm sad about that, too. Because I really wanted to feel fulfilled by this series; I wanted it to fill up the void that Loki's death in IW created three years ago. And I just ... don't feel it. Maybe, maybe that'll change over the course of episodes 5 and 6. I don't know.

Everything that I end up enjoying long-term, I think, will come about as a result of my own interpretations and analysis and while theoretically there's nothing wrong with that, if I had known all I'd get out of this series was more headcanons or support for my current headcanons then, well - that's fine, I suppose, but I'll definitely a little bit robbed.

[grenade-maid]

Just finished Lain. Watched the last episode twice, which gently removed my heart from my chest and pulped it into a fine paste in a mortar and pestle. This hit much closer to home than I expected.

In my Lain epistemology post I somewhat flippantly made an aside that the series was only tangentially about Lain the actual character. By which I meant that my read on the series up until that point (around episode 8 or 9) was that each episode was teasing apart different aspects of the ambiguity of truth, knowledge, information, and communication, with the events of Lain's life being almost just a sort of example case study for how these concepts can impact someone on an individual level. Lain was framed in a kind of zoomed out way as an abstract avatar moving through these events without a whole lot of expression of her personal thoughts and feelings.

And then we get to the last three episodes.

It's in this space that Lain the 8th grade age girl with thoughts and feelings and wants and needs and fears comes into painfully sharp focus. The beginning of the final episode sums up and contextualizes what all of this has always been about.

Who am I? What is the real me? How can I tell what's real about me if everyone interprets it differently?

Do I even exist if other people can't see me?

The flippant bravado that I expressed in that post is the same attitude that Lain has been applying to her own very sense of self throughout the series, as just another arbitrary and moldable piece of information subject to interpretation with no inherent truth.

She effectively commits suicide by removing herself from sight, mind, and memory, of everyone around her. After all, if they have no knowledge of her, then she no longer exists. But what is lurking in the subtext of this finale is that she fails to consider that everyone she is cutting off is equally subject to this process. She imagines that without her meddling they are able to be happy. But that's all it is, imagination.

She doesn't exist to them anymore because she erased their knowledge of her, but it goes both ways. In doing this, they cease to exist to her, too. The image of the happy lives of the people she knew don't come from real observation or fact. It is something that she is imposing upon her memory or imagination of those people, which is only possible because she's removed herself from the possibility of being reminded just how complex and occasionally painful their lives will be with her or without her. In those scenes nobody misses her except in these brief fleeting moments where they remember some fond association with her, before moving on to their happy lives.

But this isn't reality. She isn't seeing these people. This is how she comforts herself, by imagining that everything is for the best without her, and nobody has to feel the pain of missing her. But that's not something she can know or control. The pain they feel upon losing her doesn't exist only because she has removed herself from where she might see it and have to acknowledge it.

Do I even exist if other people can't see me?

This phrase is taken to its literal extreme in the finale. But I think it's important to take a step back and really think about what this means on a more human level, especially when it comes to the kinds of struggles that everyone, especially kids that age, are dealing with.

That is to say, even if you literally physically exist and go about the world talking to people going to school eating dinner and so on, if there are parts of you that people don't know about, if there are things inside you that you can't express, you quickly come to the painful realization that to other people, that stuff just doesn't exist. Which means that whole side of you doesn't exist, according to the outside world. And if that side of you encompasses something important about your identity or your experiences, it's hard to not come to the conclusion that the real you, the entirety of your being, doesn't exist to them either. And when you try to tell them about it, or when they notice on their own, but they don't understand or perhaps outright reject it, hasn't some fundamental part of your humanity been erased? In this kind of environment it's easy to start doubting that any of it exists at all. After all, if nobody else will recognize it, you've only got your own word to go on. And that isn't always enough to trust.

And again, keep in mind that this goes both ways. I think Lain's sister is the clearest example which is given by the series. One episode she begins as a character, someone who has thoughts and a personality and so on. By the end of the episode she is reduced to the state that she will stay in for the rest of the series, blank-eyed and senseless. That fully fledged self she had still exists though. Lain just stops being able to see it, so effectively her sister stops existing for her.

Do I even exist if other people can't see me?

When you are isolated you can say anything about yourself. You can say you're nobody, or you're God, or perhaps something even wiser and greater than God. It can feel powerful to start writing your own existence and rationalizing your own isolation, the perceptions of others be damned. You can say well, my parents don't understand me and I stopped being able to connect to my sister, but who cares! Family is just arbitrary biology anyway! What if they aren't even my family at all, and are just plants put in place by a secret organization. I'm not lonely, I'm just seeking a greater truth, a conspiracy that only I can see! I don't make social mistakes, I'm not afraid of hurting anyone, that's the fake me running around out there! But it's not sustainable. Eventually life comes crashing down, whether it be in the form of interference in the material world, or if that mental state with all of its attendant self-spun narratives just finally collapses.

As with most things in this series, Lain's interactions with "God" are written in a very abstract symbolic way. But, the pattern that it follows seems very familiar to me as one of a predatory adult grooming a vulnerable minor. He alternates between gassing Lane up as the most powerful and important being who has ever lived, and then in the next breath saying that she's nothing. In peddling his conspiracy theory narrative of humankind merging with The Wired, of Lain simply being a powerful piece of software meant for Grand Purpose, he feeds into her struggle for identity and the need to be seen and understood by at once validating these feelings and how confusing they are, while reinforcing her isolation and his own dominant grip over defining the shape of the world and society.

When Arisu finds Lain living in filth and comforts her, that is one of the rare moments that the raw, vulnerable, material world Lain, weighed down with no pretenses, pokes her head out. That moment of genuine intimacy that she has been so hungry for this whole time is enough to allow her to retaliate against "God" when he shows up in anger upon being doubted. When Arisu reacts poorly to this sight, though, is when Lain makes her final dive back into her own walled off reality. For as much as she wants to be seen and held and comforted by this girl she loves, it is far more painful for her to have to witness and live with the feeling of rejection and guilt that came from Arisu's fear in the aftermath.

The final image of her father finally expressing the real tenderness she has longed for. The imagined future of Arisu dating her former teacher well into adulthood, because it's the only model of a relationship Lain has ever seen someone want, because her parents certainly don't seem happy, and she herself didn't get anything out of the boy who kissed her. The final statement, "I will always be with you". As with everything in the series, these can be interpreted many ways. But to me it reads unmistakably as the final moments before suicide.

In any case though, after all that, it seems fairly starkly clear why Lain resonates so strongly with trans people. Contrary to the old saying that all happy people are happy the same way, but all miserable people suffer uniquely, this path to despondence is depressingly common. It is the way out that is unique to everyone who finds themselves there. I hate to say it, although I feel very lucky to say that I have survived being in that place many times--which I think is proof that it is possible to get to the other side and make a good life, despite everything-- I think if it had ended any more neatly or more positively, it just wouldn't feel as honest. It captures the depth of that state of being. That's just what it's like. And as heavy as it is to sit with, I get a lot from being able to see something painfully familiar to me reflected in such a raw way. After all that, a happy ending would just feel disingenuous. I mean, that's my life, and any happy ending they could have written just isn't how it went.