#my construct all grown up and setting boundaries

[inkedinserendipity]

POV you’re art and your bestest most specialest SecUnit goes “hey can you make a copy of me specifically to die” and you go “that’s an awful idea” and it goes “no fuck you it’s a great idea also you asked something to send to die so you can have me” and you shout “i didn’t mean you!” and it goes “stop yelling at me” which is maybe the first time it’s verbally pushed back on mistreatment in its life so you go entirely quiet because you are so so angry with it but also you can’t yell at it because it asked you not to

and then you send out the copy of it anyway to save your crew, and it saves your crew and another SecUnit and also itself

and then it dies

[make1wish]

Gojo fanfic: Secret Affair

Gojo Satoru X Fem!Reader

TW:🔞NSFW, noncon, carplay

Setting: After graduation, I became Gojo Satoru's assistant supervisor. I had a crush on Gojo Satoru during my student days, but after working with him, I broke my illusions upon understanding his true nature.

The night air was crisp and cool as the black sedan glided smoothly along the empty highway. Streetlights cast intermittent shadows across the interior, briefly illuminating the two occupants within. In the driver's seat, I maintained a professional posture, hands gripping the steering wheel at precisely ten and two, eyes fixed steadfastly on the road ahead. The mission had been almost insultingly simple for someone of Gojo's caliber - a mere C-grade curse that he had dispatched with his characteristic flair and minimal effort.

A heavy sigh from the backseat broke the tense silence. Gojo had sprawled himself across the leather upholstery, his blindfolded face turned toward the window though his attention was clearly elsewhere. "So boring," he drawled, stretching his long legs as much as the confined space would allow. "These little errands are hardly worth the time it takes to get there and back."

My grip tightened imperceptibly on the steering wheel, but I kept my voice neutral. "The mission was successful. That's what matters." I could feel his attention shift to me like a physical weight, that familiar prickling sensation across my skin that always accompanied his focused regard.

"Always so serious," Gojo mused, his tone taking on that dangerous playful edge that made my stomach clench. He leaned forward, close enough that I could feel his breath ghost across my ear. "You used to be much more... entertaining back in your student days. Remember how you'd blush every time I called on you in class?"

The car swerved slightly as I jerked in surprise, quickly correcting our course. "That was a long time ago, Gojo-sensei," I replied stiffly, deliberately using his former title. "I've grown up since then."

A low chuckle rumbled from behind me. "Have you really?" His hand came to rest on my headrest, fingers just barely brushing against my hair. "Because I think you're still that same flustered kouhai underneath all this professional facade. Shall we test that theory?"

The implications in his voice sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with fear. I opened my mouth to object, to maintain those carefully constructed boundaries, but the words died in my throat as his other hand settled on my shoulder, thumb tracing lazy circles against my collarbone.

"I know a much more... entertaining way to pass the time," Gojo purred, his usual smirk evident in his voice. "What do you say? Care to help relieve my boredom?"

His suggestion hung in the air between us, heavy with implications. I forced myself to focus on the road ahead, though my hands had begun to tremble slightly on the steering wheel. The traffic light ahead turned red, forcing me to bring the car to a stop. In the sudden stillness, Gojo's presence behind me seemed to grow even more overwhelming.

"You haven't answered my question," he murmured, his fingers trailing down from my collarbone to trace idle patterns along my arm. "Still so shy after all these years? Or perhaps..." His hand drifted to my thigh, the touch feather-light but deliberate. "Perhaps you're just better at hiding it now?"

My breath caught in my throat as memories of my student days came flooding back - the way I used to watch him during lectures, how my heart would race whenever he called my name. I had thought those feelings were long buried, replaced by professional detachment and the jaded knowledge of his true nature. But under his touch, those old emotions stirred traitorously.

"This is inappropriate," I managed to say, though my voice lacked conviction. "We have a professional relationship now, Gojo-san."

He laughed softly, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Professional? Is that what you tell yourself?" His hand squeezed my thigh gently. "Your heart rate says otherwise. Your breathing too. You're still such an open book to me."

The light turned green, but I remained frozen, caught between the urge to drive away from this dangerous situation and the magnetic pull of his touch. Gojo took advantage of my hesitation, leaning even closer until his lips brushed against my ear.

"I remember every blush, every stammer, every longing look you tried to hide," he whispered, his words dripping with dark amusement. "Did you think I didn't notice? That I didn't enjoy watching you squirm in your seat whenever I got too close?"

His hand slid higher up my thigh, and I bit back a gasp. Behind us, a car honked impatiently at our continued stillness at the green light. The sharp sound snapped me back to reality, and I quickly pressed the accelerator, perhaps a bit too hard. Gojo's grip tightened to steady himself, the pressure of his fingers sending sparks of electricity through my body.

"Getting flustered?" he taunted, making no move to withdraw his hand. "Where should I drive next? Your thigh? Your waist?" His fingers traced a path upward, following the seam of my pants. "Or perhaps somewhere more interesting?"

"Pull over," Gojo commanded, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. The authority in his tone left no room for argument, and I found myself automatically signaling and guiding the car onto a secluded shoulder of the road, hidden in the shadows between streetlights.

His hand never left my thigh as I put the car in park, his fingers maintaining that maddening, gentle pressure. The engine's quiet purr seemed to match my racing heartbeat as Gojo's other hand came up to brush my hair aside, exposing my neck to the warm caress of his breath.

"Good girl," he murmured against my skin, and I couldn't suppress a shiver. "You always were so obedient when it really mattered." His lips ghosted over my pulse point, not quite kissing, just letting me feel their presence. "Tell me, do you still think about those days? About all the things you wanted me to do to you?"

My fingers clenched around the steering wheel as his hand began to move, tracing teasing patterns up my inner thigh. "Gojo-san," I breathed, meaning it as a warning but it came out more like a plea. "We shouldn't..."

"Shouldn't what?" he asked, nipping lightly at my earlobe. His fingers found the buttons of my blouse, deftly undoing them one by one. "Shouldn't acknowledge how your breath catches when I touch you? Shouldn't notice how you're pressing into my hand right now?"

He was right - to my shame, I had unconsciously arched into his touch, my body betraying years of carefully maintained professional distance. His hand slipped inside my partially opened blouse, fingers dancing across my collarbone before trailing down to trace the lace edge of my bra.

"Look how responsive you still are," he purred, clearly delighting in my helpless reactions. "All that professional facade, and underneath you're still that same eager student who used to watch me with such hungry eyes." His teeth grazed my neck, and I had to bite back a moan. "I wonder what else hasn't changed?"

His hand slid higher up my thigh, bunching my skirt as it went, while his other hand continued its torturous exploration of my upper body. Each touch was precisely calculated to drive me mad - firm enough to send sparks of pleasure through my body, but too light to provide any real satisfaction.

A car passed by on the highway, its headlights briefly illuminating the interior of our vehicle. The flash of light reminded me of where we were, what we were doing, but instead of bringing me to my senses, the risk of discovery only heightened every sensation. Gojo seemed to sense this, chuckling darkly against my neck as his fingers found a particularly sensitive spot that made me gasp.

"That's it," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Let go of that control you're so desperate to maintain. Show me how badly you still want me."

His words shattered the last of my resistance. With a soft whimper, I surrendered to his touch, my head falling back against the headrest as his skilled fingers continued their relentless exploration. Gojo's satisfied chuckle vibrated against my neck as he sensed my submission.

"That's more like it," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Now, let's see just how much you remember..." His hand slipped beneath the hem of my skirt, fingers trailing along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. Each touch sent electric shivers through my body, making me arch involuntarily against him.

The confined space of the car filled with the sound of my ragged breathing as Gojo's ministrations grew bolder. His other hand had found its way inside my blouse, expertly unfastening my bra with a casual flick of his fingers. The cool night air kissed my exposed skin, making me gasp.

"Still so sensitive," he observed, his thumb brushing across my hardened nipple. "I've always wondered if you were this responsive everywhere..." His fingers slid higher, teasing along the edge of my underwear. "Shall we find out?"

I could only manage a breathless moan in response, my hips lifting unconsciously to meet his touch. The last vestiges of my professional facade crumbled as his fingers finally slipped beneath the delicate fabric, finding me already embarrassingly wet.

"My, my," he purred, clearly delighting in my reaction. "Is this all for me? Or do you always get this excited during missions?" His skilled fingers began a torturous rhythm that had me clutching desperately at the steering wheel, my knuckles white with tension.

Through the haze of pleasure, I was dimly aware of his other hand guiding my own away from the wheel, bringing it behind me to press against the growing hardness in his pants. "Feel what you do to me?" he growled, his usual playful tone replaced by something darker, more primal. "All these years, watching you try to maintain that professional distance, knowing exactly what was hiding underneath..."

His fingers curled inside me, finding that perfect spot that made stars explode behind my eyes. I couldn't hold back the cry that escaped my lips, my body trembling on the edge of release. But Gojo wasn't finished with me yet. With a swift movement, he reclined my seat back, giving him better access as he continued his relentless assault on my senses.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice rough with desire. "Let me hear you. Let me see you fall apart." His thumb circled my most sensitive spot while his fingers maintained their merciless rhythm. "Show me how badly you've wanted this."

The combination of his commanding tone, skilled touch, and the forbidden nature of our encounter proved too much. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me as I came undone under his expert manipulation, my body arching off the seat as I cried out his name.

But even as I shuddered through the aftershocks, I could feel his growing smirk against my neck. "We're just getting started," he promised darkly, and I knew with absolute certainty that this night would change everything between us.

[onlyjaeyun]

alright, i'm gonna address this ask once and then just not respond to anything else, even the asks supporting me bc im a little exhausted and on the verge of losing motivation so i dont wanna trigger it by going back and forth with people. yet this does not mean i dont deeply appreciate everyone's sweet messages. means the world to me to know you all have my back like this, so thank you so much 🤍

once and for all: this is fiction. fiction, meant for adults hence the MDNI/18+ in my bio, basically plastered all over my blog.

every character ive created so far is just that. a character. and i need some of you guys to understand that this is what (fan)fiction is about. the smoking, the family trauma, the lack of self awareness, their sexual activities and coping mechanisms, everything regarding and about my characters was created by me and most of the time intentionally.

one thing that also needs to be clear is that you can't just run around policing grown people in their asks talking about such significant issues and throwing around accusations like that because not only is it deeply offensive but it's also very, very dangerous. you misunderstood my post and assumed i'd use sex and sexual intimacy to have him make up for his wrongdoings when that is NOT what i said at all. just please be careful the next time because i understand where you came from but i did not deserve that.

what i also wanna address is the part with me having "impressionable readers" because this is very important to me as a smut writer.

i have set clear boundaries that i do not want any minors on my blog, point blank. now, we all know they're still around. is that my responsibility? no. am i supposed to give a fuck about people who are apparently old enough to consciously read trigger/content warnings and continue to read my work? fuck no. is it my job to educate those impressionable people that they shouldn't read smth if they can't differentiate fiction from reality. NO.

that's all im gonna say to this because yes, there are impressionable readers out there but that is NOT my responsibility.

im tired of people constantly policing me and the things i write when im a grown woman who knows exactly what she's doing. if you hate CH!sunghoon so much and are so uncomfortable with his progress, then don't read it.

saying this for everyone yet again:

if you do NOT like a writer's work, you do NOT have to READ it.

this is tumblr. i write things for FUN. i publish them for you guys to read for FREE. i dont owe anybody shit. im so, so sorry if this makes some of you angry or upset now but at the end of the day it's the truth. this is my blog and my writing and i will do whatever the fuck i want and unfortunately you have no choice but to live with it.

i appreciate constructive criticism but i will not and never in the future let anyone be so mean to me and accuse me of things when you usually just see and read and hear what you want and make up your own version of the story when it's so, so far away from the truth.

pls do not attack the nonie bc i know this is the result of a misunderstanding but it was a good opportunity for me to address the whole impressionable reader situation.

if you can't differentiate fiction from reality that's your problem, stop making it mine.

thank you so much for everything, nothing but love 🧸🩷🎀

[slylock-syl]

Hey Syllll! Long time, no chat! I just wanted to get this off my chest before i go ham trying to figure out what i wanna commission from you soon.

I have been reading Undersource for years now, and i think we've both come a long way since then! God, that feels weird to say, i'm not even old enough to drink yet lmao. But! I am old enough to spend my money responsibly now, which is nuts given that my responsible spending is now aimed at getting art of my blorbos LOL.

You've grown as an artist so much since i first started reading- i think that was around... the pirate arc? Not sure! But i do remember the early days of me having discord, during the EKD server category era. But anyways, i know the way you drew our favorite skeletons was different back then, and it's all gotten so much smoother in that time. You're also (at least seemingly) taking way better care of yourself! You've set boundaries, you've set more time for yourself and not the blog, and you're still happily chugging along, after all these years. Not to mention you're working on this side story now, which i'm fairly certain you've been looking forward to for a while.

How's that sleeping though? Do you still have the sleep cycle of an austalian? Can't say i'm any better, im slowly becoming nocturnal again lol. Some things NEVER change.

Anyways. All this to say: im really proud to have been part of this little community for so long. To see the comic and its artist come so far. Even if im not a diehard fan anymore, im glad i can still take a little time every weekend to realize "OH, U/S shoulda updated!" and run over here. Thanks for giving me a good starting point of community on this god damned hellsite.

(Here's to sleepy 5 am "you're great" asks LMAO)

sjksdhLKSDJFHG THIS IS SUCH A SWEET MESSAGE OMG-

Hi Azzy! :D I'm glad you still like my work even after all this time! Thank you for sticking around! :D

I have been taking better care of myself these days! I'm (only sometimes begrudgingly XD) going on daily walks (Pikmin Bloom is really helping with that, I love Pikmin they're so cute), and made some new friends! When I first started this blog I was convinced I had to constantly/frequently produce content, and I time went on I slowly realized that wasn't really viable, so I slowly trimmed down the workloads for better manageability, I'd say it's helped a lot! Even if it may not look like it sometimes XD

There was a point before I adjusted my work schedule where I figured out that I may have been riding a creative burnout for a long while, as when I looked back it felt like my work had begun to visually stagnate. I think at the time I was cramming working on the comic update across only 3 or 4 days (Wednesday/Thursday to Saturday mornings, sometimes down to the wire), with several hours of just constant work (plus any distractions and 3 daily asks) because I was procrastinating so badly X'D I'm still recovering from the visual stagnation, but I'm definitely trying to experiment where I can! I may not be the best at it but I hope I'm improving at least ksjdghLSDGH My current schedule is MUCH more spaced out and much more manageable, spanning Sunday to Friday and broken down into stages for each day, and Saturdays are my designated day off~

As for the side story, it's one I've had around for quite a while and have been excited to finally show off! There were a few people who were interested in it when it was first teased, though I've no idea if they're still around, if they are I hope they're enjoying the story so far as well! 💜

Oddly enough my sleep schedule is no longer on Cthulhu Standard Time SKSDJGHDLG We had a TON of construction going on in the house the past few months and it was way too awkward to sleep with a bunch of strangers either being in or near my room, as well as making a LOT of noise sjkdhgLKSDJG There was a brief section of time where I'd actually go to bed at a "normal" time and get up at like, 9 or 10 am X'D Though it's slowly sneaking it's way into afternoons to 3 or 4 AM after I feed the kitties, kinda like my old college schedule XD

Thank you again for liking my work and sticking around! I really appreciate it!! :D

I may not be anywhere near whatever my "peak" was a few years ago, but I'm still happy to keep going for those who still come around! 💜

[lose-to-win-au]

(I FINALLY FINISHED MY FINAL EXAMS, what better way to celebrate than to finally reveal this 🥀)

GENERAL INFO CARD OF MY LOSE TO WIN AU BLOG — A Grownup version of Pixar’s Win or Lose

Basically what the title states, I thought it be pretty interesting if we aged up the WoL characters for them to be competing in a semi-pro league in a lil canon divergent story! :D

Buuuuuut there’s a problem. Otto (odo), the league owner, after a devastating championship loss decides to divide the team in two. Pickles (most of the ones we know and love, the ones that chose legacy over going pro) and the new mustards (SOME of the pickles will go over here. Setting the stage for some conflict between teams. The ones ACTUALLY going pro- 😭). In the midst of all of this mess, Rochelle, the teams catcher, decides to try and bridge the team like they once were!

(More info below cut :D)

It’s been an idea I’ve had for literal AGES but couldn’t publish it ANYWHERE because:

- I don’t feel very confident in my drawing skills, but I’ll certainly try and give you the best I can and learn something along the way :D

- I’m sometimes inactive because I do tend to get too caught up in the outlining process…BUT if I’m going to last so long, why not make it public? (Im actually starving for someone who loves WoL as much as I do 😭)

- I have no idea if this’ll be a comic or an AO3 comic. I’ll probably update it with a proper info card once I know lol, I have no idea how tumblr works so I’ll be slow-

HERES THE MAIN CAST OR SUM:

- Rochelle

- Laurie (I would put a yellow name tag but didn’t find it-)

- Kai

- Yuwen

- Ira

- Taylor

- Tom

- Frank (navy name tag)

- Dan

- James

- Odo (Otto in this AU lol)

- Francis

- Luciana, Borna, Terrence…etc

- SOME OCs just to set the tone (not really that relevant, just LORE)

AND HERE ARE THE CANON DIVERGENT STUFF:

- The pickles went from a junior league to a semi-pro league, not a school extracurricular anymore 😭

- Frank became a full time ump and volunteered with the league instead of being a teacher

- Francis is a DARN GAME NARRATOR

- Oh and Ottos grown, owns the league, and is still an oracle lmao

- The bleacher creatures became from unsupervised 15 year old criminals to a shady sports organization…I have no idea how I came to that conclusion

- Ira stayed with the youth part of the bleacher creatures

- Tom used to be a part of it too when he was younger (+ his narrative with his brother is more fleshed out here. YEAH SILLY BOY DEVELOPMENT LETS GO)

- Yuwen and Taylor don’t come together until the start of the story

- I think that’s it

QUESTIONS & BOUNDARIES

- Is this an ask-blog? I’d say for the most part—yes! I’m also planning on making this blog my general WoL account apart from my AU’s so I’ll probably post reblogs, analysis, memes, etc.

- I go by mod Nick in this blog! I use she/her pronouns

- Are there any ships? Kai x Laurie, Rochelle x Tom and Yuwen x Taylor BUT Rochelle x Laurie HEAVILY IMPLIED. You guys can internet any relationship however you’d like :D

- Do you accept DMs? As long as they’re respectful, I NEED HUMAN CONTACT IM COMPLETELY OPEN TO THEM

- I don’t do art requests YET but I will post doodles for a couple of asks that pique my attention

- I DO WRITING REQUESTS THO

- I’m not comfortable with anything NSFW more for the fact that I’m 15 than anything 😭 so…yeah

- Can I make fan works of any sorts? YES. PLEASE. I don’t know if my AU is even that good but if someone there wants to take this idea and work with it? GO ON, BE FREE ❤️❤️❤️❤️

- Do you accept criticism? I’m actually really sensitive to it AND trying to correct my insecurity to just create happily without putting all my worth on my work. So YES. ANY CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM I WELCOME WITH OPEN ARMS

I HOPE IM NOT TOO LATE-

[too-spicy-and-too-queer]

In your time in polyam communities, have you found any red flags and/or green flags to watch out for? Any advice particularly for queer folks trying to find an inclusive community?

This is a great question, and a treacherous one. Polyamory is just starting to catch a little bit of mainstream attention with a few celebrities beginning to openly practice it and some mainstream news corporations running articles about it. Polyamory has grown tremendously in the past decade. /r/polyamory has 300000 members, but I highly recommend against going to Reddit for anything relationship or identity related. There are thousands of polyamory communities out there, and some of them are not queer friendly or really aren't trying to be intersectional at all, so here are some things to look out for.

First, look out for the usual problems in online or queer communities. Look out for people using racist, anti-queer, anti-trans, ableist, or anti-kink dogwhistles. Look out for tone-policing, highly insular communities, and gatekeeping. Look out for tokenization and a lack of diversity in the community (if you find a polyamory community that is almost entirely middle-aged white cis men, get out fast).

There are several red flags I've seen in my experience that are more specific to polyamory. A big one is framing polyamory as morally superior to or more evolved than monogamy. Extreme black-and-white moralizing is another red flag, often with people saying a specific style of polyamory is morally superior to others. Evopsych is another huge red flag, this is true just in general life but it seems to be particularly popular in polyamory, so stay away from people who use evopsych to guide their personal decisions or construct a concept of personality theory; it's almost always just repackaged gender essentialism, racism, and eugenics if you actually ask that person to give details on their personal values. A common red flag that I haven't seen outside polyamory is framing jealousy as a character flaw; these folks will use rhetoric like "you have to grow out of jealousy to be polyamorous" or "jealousy is your problem and you should deal with it yourself". A lot of virtue-signaling about emotional intelligence is another red flag.

There are some more subtle red flags to look for in polyamory communities. Examine the prominent polycules you see in that community. Are men setting up a de facto One Penis Policy with their partners? Are folks sabotaging relationships with their metamors? Do people respond poorly to criticism from their partners, or do quieter members of polycules never express criticism at all towards the more outspoken members? Are folks expecting all their partners to have similar boundaries? Are people who are new to polyamory expressing hesitations that aren't being addressed by their more experienced partners? Look especially at how young femme women are treated when they first join the community, do they get a lot of unwanted attention or solicitations? Look at how POC and queer people are treated when they talk about the intersections of their identities with polyamory, do straight white people talk over them?

Here are some green flags in polyamory communities. It's diverse and intersectional. People speak freely and respectfully about their kinks and their identities. Members of the community do not use it as a dating or hookup service and instead treat it like a community for education and support. You see members supporting and emotionally engaging with each other at least as and preferably more often than flirting with each other. Many styles of polyamory and other styles of non-monogamy besides polyamory are recognized as valid and it's seen as an individual choice and a matter of personal exploration. Jealousy is treated as a normal human emotion, and it's not deserving of judgment or blame just like all the other emotions. Folks don't get pedantic or prescriptivist about definitions and terms. Folks accept criticism and admit their failures gracefully, apologize, and change their behavior. Boundaries are respected and understood. Folks are expressive and communicative about their relationships. Metamors have active friendships with each other or at least can carry friendly conversations with each other. Folks talk about going to therapy. Safer sex is an open and frequently discussed topic. And most importantly, you feel good, connected, and witnessed when you express yourself to the community.

Good luck, I've heard so many horror stories about toxic polyamory communities, but I've heard many more stories about people having wonderful experiences. There are lots of good communities out there, and I hope you find some of them.

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Contact Comfort

Spencer Reid x (gender neutral) Reader

Word Count: ~2000

Warnings: None, really? Emotional hurt/comfort and sorta like a touch starved deal doing on, but it’s pretty thoroughly fluffy and sugary-sweet. 

A/N: For the “bed sharing” square on my @cmbingo​ card! 

Title is from the referenced psych study, because I’m a dork. 

“One sec,” you call, wincing at how thick and nasal your voice sounds.

You wipe your cheeks hastily as you sit up. It’ll be obvious anyway, though; wouldn’t take a profiler to notice your tear tracks and blotchy face. 

It’s Spencer. Of course it is — because he’s the last person you want to see you like this, when you’re all snotty and puffy and gross. 

His eyes go wide and solemn when he sees your face, genuinely distressed. There’s that empathy again, the too-big heart that everyone seems to overlook in favor of his big brain. You love him for it. 

Well, you love him for a lot of things. 

“Hi,” he says quietly. “I was going to just ask if you were okay, but… I guess I don’t actually need to ask now.” 

You let out a watery little chuckle. “Guess not.” 

“You want some company?” He looks hopeful, almost, and then seems to catch himself, dropping his gaze with a shrug. “I understand if you just want your space, though.” 

If it was anyone else, you absolutely would not want company right now. But it’s Spencer, so. You pretty much always want him around. 

“I was just about to turn on some shitty TV because it felt too quiet in here, honestly. Company would be really nice.” 

He gives you a quick twitch of a half-smile as he steps past you, and after you close the door, there’s a pause where you both stand there and look at each other, Spencer suddenly shy as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, in a thin unhappy voice. 

“Not really. Just… one of those days. One of those cases.” 

“Can I do anything to help?”  

You hesitate, because it seems like such an immature thing to say out loud, but you’re too tired to be anything other than honest.

“I could use a hug.”  

Spencer’s expression goes all soft and sweet, and your cheeks feel hot under the drying salt water as he steps closer. He wraps his arms around you, and you bury your face in his chest and try to inhale. Your exhale is a ragged little shudder, and you fist both hands in the back of Spencer’s cardigan as you cling to him, feeling raw and sensitive and so very young. 

He lets out a quiet, shaky sigh of his own, squeezing you tighter. 

How long has it been since anybody hugged you like this? It’s like the contact — the warmth of him — the pressure of his arms around your shoulders — the rise and fall of his chest under your cheek — is lifting some massive weight you never realized you were carrying. All you want in the entire world is to hold him tight, take the comfort while you can, but you know you should pull away. 

He hesitates for a second before releasing you, like maybe he doesn’t want to let go either. 

Then he’s stepping back, hands in his pockets, slightly pink-cheeked as he bounces on the balls of his feet and gives you one of his frog-faced not-quite-smiles. 

“You said something about shitty television?” he asks. “Or maybe we could watch some television that’s not actually shitty?” 

“That sounds perfect.”

Turns out Planet Earth is on, which is the rare overlap in your and Spencer’s tastes, and it’s not until you’re eagerly toeing off your shoes that you realize the bed is the only seating option. 

Spencer sits cross-legged, with his elbows on his knees and his chin propped on his fists, and he stays as close to the edge of the bed as physically possible. You lean back against the headboard and hug your knees to your chest, feeling the need to hunch over, like you could physically protect your heart. 

Then again, it’s much too late for that. You knew your heart was in trouble the moment you met Spencer. 

Today, especially, you already feel vulnerable, like all your carefully-constructed walls cracked open the second you let yourself cry, and now you’re just ripped-open and bare. You need a good night’s sleep and a long, hot shower before you’ll be able to go about your life as a professional, fully-functional, grown-up human again. Right now you’re just kind of a mess.  

“I know there’s the germ thing,” you blurt out, without looking at Spencer. “But —” 

His laugh sounds crackly and nervous, but relieved, like maybe he’d been holding his breath. “Come here.” 

You give him a grateful smile as you scoot closer to each other, and apparently you’d been so worried about your own swollen eyes earlier that you hadn’t noticed the fatigue evident in every drawn, wan line of his face. 

Not that he isn’t still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

You duck tentatively under Spencer’s arm, and it’s not like you’re cuddling, exactly, because there’s still an inch or so of space between your hips and legs… but the bony plane of his chest, between collarbone and heart, makes a surprisingly perfect pillow. You pull the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, tucking them under your chin, curling up.

The moment feels delicate, like a soap bubble that you could burst if you simply breathe too loudly, and you hold yourself stiffly, at first, not wanting to move any closer for fear of pushing a boundary. It feels like you’re glowing at the points where your bodies are touching; the warm weight of his arm feels like bright spring sunshine across your upper back. His palm on the round of your shoulder is thawing away the last chilly bits of your self-consciousness. 

When the commercial break starts, Spencer says, “Do you ever think about how little physical contact the average single adult experiences on a regular basis?” His voice is quiet and almost sheepish. 

You smile. “Yeah, I’ve considered it.” 

“Especially when we live away from our families,” Spencer says wistfully. 

You can feel the vibration of his words in his chest. You shift, making yourself more comfortable, feeling dazed and dumb with his proximity.

“The monkeys. I feel like — you know?” 

“Harlow. I know exactly what you mean.”

Trust him to get that from your ridiculously vague mumbling.  

“Except they’re babies,” you add. 

“The emotional benefits of physical touch don’t decrease just because we get older,” he says softly. “It’s just that the fear of judgement makes it difficult to be honest.”

There’s silence for a minute as the show starts again, and David Attenborough says something about sloths. Spencer’s thumb strokes your shoulder gently, back and forth, soothing. It’s hypnotic, and the tension drains from your muscles, leaving you more relaxed than you’ve felt in a long time. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. 

You swallow hard. “For what?” 

“Being honest.” 

There’s no reason for your eyes to be stinging like this, but they are. “I should be thanking you.”

“Nothing to thank me for. This is… really nice.” 

“Yeah. It really is.” 

He’s quiet again. 

Spencer smells like vanilla and old books — although the latter might just be your imagination, something to do with the power of mental association — Spencer could probably explain the science behind that. Your brain has them inextricably linked, though. You’ve caught hints of that smell before, but never up close like this. 

The softness of the worn knit of his cardigan makes you want to rub your cheek against it like a cat. His arm, skinny as it may be, feels like protection — like you’re safe here. 

After the brutal violence of the case and the emotional turbulence of the day, this quiet, golden moment is even more breathtakingly peaceful by contrast. It doesn’t feel real. 

It’s too good to last. This isn’t yours. It’s not going to last, no matter how right it feels, and your chest already aches with the idea of letting him go.    

You try to appreciate it while you can, to remember every sensation, but your body is leaden, exhausted down to the bone, completely drained of whatever adrenaline-stubbornness-caffeine combination was keeping you running until now. Spencer’s thumb rubs invisible circles on your shoulder, and he breathes evenly, and you feel safe. 

You’re asleep before the next commercial break. 

A distant car alarm wakes you, sometime later. In the handful of seconds before it’s turned off, you come to without opening your eyes, trying to remember where you are and who you’re with. The smell of vanilla makes you relax instinctively, before you can process why. 

Spencer has all but melted against you in his sleep, soft and boneless. He’s got both arms around you now, holding you close, his breath tickling your forehead. Then he stirs, and you can feel the moment he realizes where he is, because his muscles go tense as he freezes. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs hoarsely. He’s barely audible over the infomercial voices coming from the TV. “I didn’t mean to — sorry. I’ll go.” 

And before you can think better of it, you whisper, “Don’t.” 

He’s still frozen, and silent for a second that feels like an eternity. “You mean —”

“I don’t want you to leave. Stay.” 

Honesty seems to be your default setting tonight, and anyway, you can tell without looking at a clock that it’s long past midnight, well into the early-morning hours where boundaries and reservations and reality don’t seem to follow their usual laws. You can’t lie to him (or to yourself) right now. 

Spencer’s voice cracks as he says, “Okay. I’ll just — let me get the light.”

You don’t open your eyes as he slips away. This all seems like a dream, and the sharp bright lamp light might make it dissolve around you. You might wake up. 

The TV goes quiet, and when you tug at the hotel comforter, sliding between cool sheets fully clothed, the barely-there rasp of moving fabric sounds loud in its absence. 

Spencer turns off the lamp, and you open your eyes. You can just see his shape as he navigates the dark room, negative space on a charcoal backdrop, but as your vision adjusts, you can see a faint suggestion of his features in the blue-black. 

You feel it, though, when his weight makes the springs of the old mattress dip. You’d expected him to lie on his back again, but instead his face is just inches from yours when his cheek comes to rest on the pillow. You feel the way he’s breathing, quick and shallow and nervous. You feel your heart kick in your ribs, thudding so loud he must be able to hear it. 

He reaches out slowly, hooking an arm around your ribs, and pauses with just the very tips of his spidery fingers touching your back, between your shoulder blades: five soft points of contact that you feel so intensely they might as well be electrode pads connecting you to a defibrillator. 

This is crossing a line, and you both know it. 

It’s not a sexual touch, it’s not that sort of thrill going through you, but something about this feels profoundly intimate. That intimacy is almost more shocking than lust might’ve been, and it’s much more dangerous. It’s the sort of closeness you don’t walk away from unscathed.  

Spencer’s fingers flutter, butterfly-wing delicate, like one or the other of you might be trembling. 

“Are you sure this is okay?” he whispers. 

“Yes.”  

Maybe you’re both trembling. 

His palm comes to rest on your back, easing you closer, and you shift, settle, readjust. He pulls back and tilts his head just long enough to brush his lips over your temple, soft and sweet, before tucking you neatly under his chin, where you fit like you were meant to be there, with your nose nudging at the gap between his collar and the delicate skin of his throat.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispers, sounding just as awed as you feel. 

“Sweet dreams, Spencer.” 

.

.

.

If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message! 

More Criminal Minds fic is here. 

[wlwcarries]

i'm becoming more and more convinced that charlie's dms are real. i’m going to give you guys the evidence there is so far, for you all to make your own conclusions. personally, as much as i hate to say it, i think the dms are real.

i want to preface this by saying that i hoped as much as everyone else that the screenshots were fake. i honestly debated even posting about it at this point because everyone seems to have made their peace that they’re fabricated and moved on, and i don’t want to start or rehash anything. i promise you, i hated making this post as much as you guys are probably going to hate reading this. but i feel like we as a fandom deserve to know and address the truth, and choosing to ignore this will only do more harm than good.

there are two tiktoks showing proof of the messages: here and here

it’s pretty clear imo that charlie sent those messages in that group chat. there’s publicly available information proving a lot of what i’m going to talk about, but i’m not going to expose anyone especially since a lot of the people involved are minors. if you want to talk more about it, feel free to dm me but i’m not going to post anything publicly beyond those tiktoks. 

so yeah. charlie talked about smut in a group chat with at least one confirmed minor as far as we know. in the screenshot you can see that someone explained what smut was to him, and then he continued on talking about the explicit fic. 

i know that a lot of us on here, myself included, love to harp on l*lex shippers, and while the racism involved with the ship should by no means pushed aside that's also not my biggest concern at the moment. a lot of these people are young teenage girls and there’s a clear power imbalance involved. they’re fans, and he’s an adult man who they look up to. yes, they shouldn’t have sent the fic to him in the first place, but charlie’s an adult and should have known better than to encourage this. this is on him. he really can’t see that interacting and talking about sexually explicit material with minors isn’t alright??? is he that scared of his fans turning on him if he doesn’t act like he’s their close personal friend???

he needs to realize that he’s not going to lose his fanbase if he establishes boundaries with them. honestly, there’s more of a chance that he’ll lose them if he doesn’t establish boundaries. other people said this better than me (i’d like to link chloe @willexx’s post here which makes a lot of really important points regarding this as well as discussing madi, and this post by @reggieshairflip which goes really in depth into a lot of great points), but this is really concerning. 

i also went on twitter last night to see what people were saying on there, and i’m beyond words. the majority of the commentary seems to be along the lines of “protect charlie from the smut!!” 

y’all. charlie isn’t the one who needs protecting. regardless of the legal situation, if he wants to read fanfic he’s gonna find ways to read it. he’s a grown man, he’ll be fine. that’s so far removed from the actual point, i don’t know how else to explain it. charlie will be fine. we don’t have to be worried about him. 

maybe people should focus on the fact that he’s talking about smut in a group chat with minors on it? like first off, don't be in a group chat with fans of your show, but especially don't talk about smut with minors, what the fuck. and the fact that he doesn’t even seem to realize the issues with what he’s doing is troubling in and of itself.

charlie has been involved in various other groupchats with fans for a while (this isn’t a new thing by any means), and i will admit that most of those interactions thus far have been innocent and harmless. regardless, the fact that he’s in group chats with fans at all worries me. these people are largely young, teenaged girls who idolize charlie--they’ve practically developed a parasocial relationship with him, and that’s not healthy in the slightest. 

he’s not their “bestie,” he’s a celebrity. he keeps up with the innocent and harmless things, and encourages them, but doesn’t establish boundaries--and that’s what leads to people thinking that doing more is okay because he hasn’t said otherwise. people meeting him at the airport at 2am, fans showing up to owen’s house at midnight and then charlie entertaining them. that’s what this kind of behavior leads to, and i fear that it will inevitably lead to much worse in the future. i’m not trying to take blame away from the people who did these things--fans have to respect boundaries, set or not--but as a public figure charlie has a responsibility to set clear lines.

the point of this post is absolutely not to “cancel” him or anything. that wouldn’t be productive at all, and one of my favorite things about the jatp fandom on tumblr is our ability to have actually constructive conversations about things like this. this is tumblr, and i know i’m basically speaking to an echo chamber here-- but i feel this is important enough that it has to be said, even if nobody outside of this site will probably see it. 

he needs to be held accountable and made to realize that what he’s doing isn’t okay. i get that this is his first experience being at the center of a large fandom like this, and i understand that he’s probably really excited about all the fans and wants to connect with them as much as possible. but he would do well to take notes from jeremy (and hell, madi, and she’s sixteen and didn’t have any prior acting experience at all), and engage in a healthy, responsible way like they do. i’m not going to speak about owen because i don’t really have much info or knowledge about how he interacts, but this potentially extends to him as well.

this is a really complicated and messy situation, and i get that. feel free to share your thoughts, but please be respectful. sending love to all of you guys rn 💜💜💜

EDIT: TO CLARIFY. i have seen this post making the rounds on twitter. i’m okay with that as long as it’s not a screenshot and the post is directly linked HOWEVER charlie did not straight up send smut to that group chat. they sent him the title, and he looked the fic up and sent the link in the group chat to clarify it was the one they were talking about. he was informed that it was smut, but it wasn’t just him sending the fic unprovoked. everything i said above still applies, he should not have engaged or encouraged the conversation but please don’t spread false information. 

[becomewings]

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life <I’M FINE>

    BTS Universe Story Highlights, pt. 2 / 4

« pt. 1  |  » pt. 3

Introduction

JungKook’s and YoonGi’s stories are the first of the paid content in BTS Universe Story and are substantially more detailed than the episodes covered in part 1. As this led to longer summaries (4.2k and 3k), I have added “tl;dr commentary” at the bottom of the post after a section of additional thoughts. This commentary summarizes the parenthetical asides I made throughout the summaries and may be of interest as standalone reading to those who have already played the game yet would like to review its connections to the BU texts and MVs.

Content warning: contains references to death, suicide, suicidal ideation, child abuse, domestic violence, blood, homicide, depression, trauma, PTSD

This guide contains major spoilers and includes references to other BU media

Do not repost, copy, or quote without permission

The Boy on the Threshold

In this story, SeokJin works to uncover the motivations behind JungKook’s nightly street wandering, instigation of fights with thugs, and decision to jump from the roof of a construction site. He was aware of the “darkness” within JungKook but never thought that he would give up on himself. SeokJin is determined to find a way to make JungKook think “I want to live” on his own.

In the afternoon on 11 April Year 22, SeokJin drives by the crosswalk outside Songju Jeil High School. Spotting a grim-faced JungKook, he gets out to greet him. JungKook visibly brightens and pelts him with question after question, finally finishing with, “But how come you’re here at school?” If the player chooses the response “I came to see you” rather than “I was in the neighborhood,” JungKook seems a little disbelieving due to the coincidental timing but nevertheless pleased. SeokJin offers him a ride, thinking that JungKook will not carry out that night’s actions from previous loops if he gets home right away. In the car, SeokJin reminisces aloud about the day they all met. On 3 March Year 19, all seven boys arrived late on the first day at Songju Jeil High School and were scolded outside by the Dean. (Aside from the absence of extra students, this scene looks very similar to the BTS Begins Middle Scene VCR, including the detail of YoonGi arriving last. This VCR predates official BU content.) When the Dean spotted SeokJin in their lineup, he reduced their punishment of community service for one month to just that afternoon. After classes, the boys cleaned the annex. The old classroom-turned-storage room became their secret hideout where they enjoyed various activities like dancing, playing the piano, and spending time with one another. JungKook appears happy as they chat about their school days, although in one path, his face falls after he remembers when he and YoonGi were caught in the annex. SeokJin is concerned, but JungKook insists, “It’s nothing.”

They say goodbye outside JungKook’s house, but SeokJin watches to make sure he goes inside. JungKook hesitates before ringing the bell at the gate. His mom answers, surprised and at a loss by his unexpected arrival. She asks him to come back later because his father’s relatives stopped by, and the intercom cuts off before he can answer. (His mother remarried, so this is really his step-father and family.) SeokJin wonders if JungKook has no one to lean on at school or at home and if this is why he wanders the streets at night. He asks JungKook where he wants to go now. “The beach… the one I went to with you guys,” JungKook answers, then says he’s kidding when SeokJin hesitates, thinking about the night ahead. SeokJin invites JungKook home instead, hoping to keep an eye on him before he needs to save NamJoon at the gas station.

In his bedroom, SeokJin hastily takes down the map and notes pinned on the wall of the boys’ incidents around the city. After letting JungKook inside, he shows him a box of photos from their time together in school. While JungKook browses, a notification on SeokJin’s phone reminds him of Songho Foundation’s inaugural ceremony that evening. Songho Foundation is a scholarship foundation funded by his maternal grandmother’s estate, and his father formally introduces him on this occasion. SeokJin also receives a call from his father’s long-time aide, a man he refers to as Uncle JunHo, who instructs him not to be late to the ceremony. Claiming it won’t take him long, SeokJin asks JungKook to stay there and wait for him to return. He is worried about leaving JungKook alone but also concerned that bringing him to the gas station after the ceremony will make him late to intervening in NamJoon’s incident.

In the lobby of the hotel hosting the Songho Foundation Inauguration Ceremony, SeokJin recognizes many important faces from around the city: Song JunHo, his father’s aide; Seo HyunJung, the city’s deputy mayor; the CEO of Youngjin Engineering & Construction Company; a professor from Munhyeon University; and the Jeil High School principal, Jo JinMyung. SeokJin doesn’t want to cross paths with the principal but is drawn into a conversation with him, the mayor, and his father, Kim ChangJun. “Assemblyman! Congratulations on the launch of the scholarship foundation,” Deputy Mayor Seo says to Kim ChangJun. “I hear that your son has been accepted to Munhyeon University? You must be happy that he’s attending your alma mater.” Kim ChangJun shakes his head. “He still has a lot to learn.” She remarks that everyone knows how well SeokJin has grown up and inquires about his career plans. The player is presented with three choices: “I haven’t decided yet,” “I want to become a good person,” and “I want to become someone like my father.” SeokJin’s father continues to look grim while the others chuckle in response to the first two answers, but his expression softens at the third, which SeokJin knew would not rub him the wrong way. Deputy Mayor Seo proposes to Assemblyman Kim that they establish a regular meeting to discuss community development, mentioning that it would be better if he could invite the city’s prominent citizens and give a speech. Assemblyman Kim agrees, telling his assistant Song JunHo to make note of it. The ceremony concludes, and the guests head towards the hotel’s restaurant. SeokJin is wary of his father’s watchful gaze but impatient to carry out the rest of the night’s plans. While his father is surrounded by other people, he informs Uncle JunHo that he has to leave to work on a group project. SeokJin slips out of the hotel and heads to NamJoon’s gas station.

While SeokJin is gone, one of the photos in the box catches JungKook’s eye. It shows the seven boys sitting on a wall with the ocean behind them. (This photo resembles the shot in Euphoria at 5’32” except that they appear to be wearing school uniform shirts and slacks.) A flashback retells the afternoon of 12 June Year 19 when the boys cut school early and visited the sea, trudging over 3 kilometers under the scorching sun to find a boulder that is rumored to make your dreams come true. (The date is not specified in the game, but the memory closely follows this set of entries in The Notes 1.) Everyone collapses in disappointment when they can’t find the rock at its designated location. JungKook is tired but not as disappointed as the others—just walking there with them is enough for him, even though he often feels uncertain of his place among the group. He gets up on the pier railing, reflecting: “I’ve always liked walking on the edge of walls or on top of lines. Focusing on centering my gravity means that I don’t really think of anything else, and the boundary—not quite a part of either place—always felt like where I should be.” Balancing precariously, JungKook walks until someone grabs his arm. YoonGi scolds him not to do this. JungKook assures him that he will not fall but privately thinks: “YoonGi would often grab my arm when I walked on railings. The others would look after me, too, after seeing him do that. I liked their helping hands. It felt like they were telling me that I should go to them. That this wasn’t my place. Maybe their hands were why I walked on the railings.”

The story returns to the present in SeokJin’s perspective. He rushes back to his room after saving NamJoon and finds JungKook asleep, leaning against the bed with the photos still scattered around him. Feeling both relief and regret, SeokJin quietly coaxes JungKook to lay down and sleep more comfortably. JungKook wakes up and says he should go home after hearing that it’s past ten o’clock. The game cuts briefly to SeokJin’s father in his study with his aide. Kim ChangJun asks Song JunHo to fetch SeokJin, as he needs to know what goes on for the foundation. JunHo says that SeokJin must be entertaining a guest for the group project because he spotted an unfamiliar pair of shoes in the entryway.

Back in his bedroom, SeokJin is startled when his father knocks on the door. It’s rare for his father to visit the second floor of their home, so he let his guard down while chatting with JungKook. “F-Father.” Stammering, SeokJin flinches and gathers up the scattered photos. “Did you leave the ceremony early to waste time like this? Even lying to say you were doing a school project?” asks Kim ChangJun. His cold and reproachful stare suffocates SeokJin. When his father’s eyes scan to JungKook standing awkwardly at the side, SeokJin is plunged into a childhood memory. On 10 October Year 9, 9-year-old SeokJin hid a school friend who was being chased by scary men in his bedroom. His father arrived and asked if the boy was Mr. Choi’s son, saying people had come to take him. When Kim ChangJun ordered him to “be a good boy,” SeokJin froze and was powerless to stop his friend from being handed over. The following day, SeokJin was told his friend transferred schools. (This event is also depicted as the first entry of The Notes 1.) In the present, SeokJin struggles to think of an explanation, smothered by that memory and his father’s pressuring stare. JungKook timidly speaks up. “I was only here to visit for a short while. I was actually about to head home. Hey, I’ll go now.” SeokJin knows he can’t leave him alone yet and finally forces himself to move. “Father, I… I’m going to go out for a little while.” He runs outside, but JungKook is already gone.

The story cuts to JungKook’s perspective as he arrives in a familiar alleyway. He is thankful that SeokJin was so considerate to him but feels that he shouldn’t have gone to his home since it made things more complicated for his friend. “YoonGi even got expelled because of me… Why do I always mess things up for the people around me?” JungKook thinks. The player is presented the choice to either text SeokJin or call YoonGi. In the first path, SeokJin calls JungKook while he is mid-text and says that he’ll come pick him up, but JungKook declines, thanks him, and hangs up. In the second path, JungKook fiddles with his phone, wondering if YoonGi will be annoyed or even answer. He remembers when they crossed paths a few days earlier. On 7 April Year 22, JungKook heard a familiar tune while roaming the dark streets and saw YoonGi playing piano through a broken window of a music shop. YoonGi stopped and eventually staggered out of the shop without noticing JungKook reaching out to him. JungKook tried to play the music by memory, and suddenly YoonGi returned—just like their days at the classroom. (Note: In his 7 April Year 22 entry of The Notes 1, YoonGi is drunk and stumbling by an empty construction site when he recognizes a clumsy piano tune that he’d been playing “not long ago.” But when he runs to the music shop and finds JungKook, the text does not indicate that he remembers this is his second visit to the shop this evening. Additionally, the Wings short film First Love seems to reference some of the events of this night—or evokes YoonGi’s distorted memories of it, mingled with a representation of JungKook’s later accident.)

In the present (11 April), JungKook wonders if YoonGi is doing well. He has thought about him since their chance encounter but doesn’t have the courage to call him first. (The narrative paths rejoin here.) JungKook wonders where he should go now yet doesn’t want to think about anything. He stops in the middle of the road, and a passing car’s headlights make him dizzy. SeokJin arrives in the distance and shouts his name, but JungKook just thinks, “One more step from here. Just one more step, and everything ends.” He steps in front of the honking car. SeokJin calls him in the distance, and JungKook feels everything slip farther away. The glass shatters and the loop resets.

Awakening once more on the morning of 11 April, SeokJin vows to protect JungKook until the end. The memory of arriving too late as JungKook threw himself in front of the car reminds him of how he was also unable to protect his childhood friend when he was 9. He needs to devise a new plan, since JungKook practically ran out of the house when confronted by Kim ChangJun. The story cuts to that evening, with JungKook looking at the photo in SeokJin’s bedroom. This time, SeokJin ignores his phone’s buzzing reminder about Songho Foundation’s inaugural ceremony. He asks JungKook where he’d like to get next and, when he doesn’t have any ideas, offers him a tour of the university campus.

JungKook seems happier looking around the campus, the cherry blossoms in full bloom. SeokJin uses this opportunity to ask him if anything is on his mind and if school is going well. JungKook answers nonchalantly, but SeokJin remembers how grim he looked at the school crosswalk that afternoon. He asks if JungKook still hangs out with the other guys. “HoSeok and TaeHyung are working part-time jobs. The others… I’m not sure,” JungKook answers, expression darkening. SeokJin wonders if he shouldn’t have brought it up but still presses him. “How come? You should talk to them from time to time.” “But it’s because of me,” says JungKook. “The reason why YoonGi was expelled… It was because he was trying to protect me.” 

SeokJin either responds “It’s not your fault” or “Don’t think that way.” Following the first choice, JungKook insists, “No, it’s my fault. YoonGi wouldn’t have talked back to the teacher if I wasn’t there.” SeokJin shakes his head. “No, you couldn’t really do anything given the situation.” JungKook replies that he should have at least apologized and that he never had the chance to tell YoonGi he was sorry. “That’s how you felt, huh… I should’ve done more. I’m sorry,” SeokJin apologizes. JungKook shakes his head with a smile, but SeokJin knows that he doesn’t understand what he really meant. (Per events in The Notes 1, it is technically SeokJin’s fault that the teacher found them in the classroom.) If the second dialogue choice, “Don’t think that way,” is chosen, JungKook questions, “How could I? When it was because of me.” “No…” SeokJin is not brave enough to say that he’s the one to blame. The camera (i.e. the animation) starts wobbling as though SeokJin’s vision is swimming. “SeokJin?” asks JungKook in concern. “I should’ve done more. I’m sorry.” The episode ends with the same dialogue and animation of JungKook shaking his head with a smile, except that in the second path the camera is still wobbling from SeokJin’s perspective. (This is the only episode I noted in the game that has a slight difference in endings based on the player’s final choice, although it is essentially cosmetic.)

Episode 5 opens with a more detailed memory of 11 June Year 20 from JungKook’s perspective. The high school was holding an open house for parents. Not wanting to stay in a classroom, he wandered off and heard piano music drifting from the annex. JungKook slipped into their classroom hideout and settled down to listen. YoonGi continued to play without acknowledging him. The music helped calm JungKook—it seemed as though YoonGi understood how he felt and was trying to console him. The sound cut off abruptly as the door slammed open. “You rascals! What are you doing here?!” the Dean of Students demanded. He slapped JungKook, knocking him down. A flurry of verbal abuse poured over his crumpled form. YoonGi shoved the teacher’s shoulder and stepped in front of JungKook. “Wow, look at this kid… You put your hands on a teacher? You better be prepared, Min YoonGi.” With that ominous threat, the Dean departed. JungKook spoke from the floor. “Hey, sorry for making you—” “It’s nothing,” YoonGi cut in. JungKook wondered why he helped him. It was the first time someone had protected him, and he believed that he would never forget the view of YoonGi’s back. YoonGi asked why JungKook was smiling. “I don’t know.” Still smiling, JungKook touched his throbbing cheek. YoonGi stared at him before breaking into his own smile and sitting down next to him. They sat there wordlessly for some time. The feeling of growing closer to YoonGi made JungKook feel giddy the rest of the day. But YoonGi did not come to school the following day, and two weeks later, he was formally expelled. (The encounter with the teacher and YoonGi’s subsequent expulsion are also referenced in JungKook and YoonGi’s 25 June Year 20 entries in The Notes 1.)

In a brief interlude in the present (11 April at the university campus), SeokJin reflects again that he does not have the courage to confess to JungKook the real reason why they drifted apart. He walks with his eyes trained on the ground until JungKook calls for him to look at the cherry blossoms floating in the wind. The scene cuts to 30 September Year 20 for another of JungKook’s school memories. He stood outside the school’s annex, reflecting that his friends probably didn’t know that he went there every day. Although school was a place he found awkward and unfamiliar, their hideout was a space for him that put him at ease. On that day however, only HoSeok was inside the classroom, gathering up the items they’d left behind. JungKook realized that the time they spent together was now a memory and would never return again. (This is also an entry in The Notes 1.) Back in the present, SeokJin notices that JungKook looks grim once more and tries to improve his mood by asking if they should go to the beach. JungKook privately wonders: “Do you think YoonGi would go? And no one knows what’s going on with JiMin. Will we really be able to go together like we did then?” Holding up his pink camera, SeokJin says they should take a picture to commemorate the evening. They’re both smiling in the photo, and he hopes that they’ll all smile together again one day. After their campus tour, SeokJin walks JungKook home, ignoring the many calls he receives from his father’s assistant JunHo.

At the crosswalk outside the high school the next day (12 April), SeokJin reflects that staying with JungKook instead of attending the inauguration ceremony seemed like a good choice. He prevented JungKook from jumping off the building and stopped NamJoon’s incident too. But SeokJin wants to keep an eye on JungKook for a few days. While he’s waiting, the principal Jo JinMyung approaches and greets him, asking what brings him to the school. SeokJin tries to excuse himself, but the principal brings up the ceremony. “I thought you’d be there, but you weren’t. Did something happen? Why weren’t you there?” Caught off guard, SeokJin either answers vaguely (“I had something important to do”) or honestly (“A friend had an emergency and I couldn’t attend”). JungKook joins them slowly during the exchange, and the principal seems a little suspicious regardless of the player’s choice. In the “honest” path, he adds, “Next time, think about what's truly important before acting.” The paths rejoin when the principal smiles pointedly and mentions that he should call the Assemblyman soon. SeokJin wonders if Jo JinMyung intends to tell his father that he was with JungKook. Kim ChangJun did not approve of the time SeokJin spent with his friends even in school. “Father thinks it’s useless to have human relationships that don’t help you succeed.” When he and JungKook are in his car, SeokJin notices that the principal ominously watches them pull away.

Later that day, SeokJin meets with his father in his office. Kim ChangJun looks exhausted. Though they’re similar heights, to his son he seems like a massive grey wall. “Why didn’t you attend the inauguration ceremony yesterday?” he asks. SeokJin either lies (“A professor asked me to do something last minute”) or answers honestly (“A friend had an emergency and I couldn’t attend”). The ultimate result is the same: Kim ChangJun speaks after a long moment of silence. “The one thing I want from you is for you to be a good son.” “Yes,” says SeokJin. “I don’t think it’s a difficult task. You may leave.” As he exits, SeokJin hears him call Song JunHo and worries that his flimsy excuse will fall apart. Running into the principal may have made matters worse too. Despite his uneasiness, SeokJin has no choice but to keep going and trust that everything will work out. While NamJoon and JungKook are safe for now, he wonders if he can be a person for JungKook to lean on for comfort whenever he needs it so that he will not resort to such an extreme decision again.

SeokJin visits JungKook after school every afternoon the following days. On 15 April, JungKook asks if it’s okay for him to come like this every day. SeokJin assures him, “Yeah. I come to see you because I want to.” He observes that JungKook still seems to take social cues from him rather than acting comfortably, so he encourages him to either pick what they do next or where they should go eat. On 19 April, however, JungKook does not appear at the school gates. SeokJin tries calling him, only to learn that the number isn’t in service. Someone shouts his name, and HoSeok emerges from the Twostar Burger across from the school. “I had heard you were back, but I didn’t think I’d see you here in front of the school.” HoSeok digs a piece of paper out of his pocket, explaining that JungKook stopped by earlier. “He said he’s switching schools.” SeokJin asks where, but HoSeok doesn’t know. This has never happened before in a loop, and SeokJin wonders if he caused it. HoSeok hands over the paper, which JungKook requested be given to SeokJin. It’s a drawing of the cherry blossom tree they saw together, with a thank you note written at the bottom. SeokJin hopes that his suspicions aren’t correct.

Hunting for clues to JungKook’s whereabouts, SeokJin visits Jeil High School’s administrative office the next day (20 April). He receives slightly more information if he acts like he knows the Director of Administration, but as the student records are confidential, the man only reveals that JungKook transferred to a boarding school. On 30 April, SeokJin is summoned to his father’s office. Kim ChangJun asks him to sit down and continues speaking with his aide, Song JunHo. He confirms an upcoming appointment with the Deputy Mayor before asking, “Oh, did you take care of that incident?” “Yes. Do you mean the one concerning the Jeil High student?” JunHo responds. “I’ve taken care of the issue with the student.” Heart racing, SeokJin realizes that his father was behind JungKook’s transfer and deliberately let it slip as a warning to him. On their way out, Uncle JunHo adds, “SeokJin. You do know how difficult it was because you didn’t attend the inauguration, right?” SeokJin promises that he’ll be at the next meeting. Back in his bedroom, he decides that he made the wrong choice in this loop. He wanted to be someone JungKook could always come to, but instead he pushed him farther away. HoSeok calls him at that moment. Voice wavering, he relays that JungKook has disappeared. Some of his classmates stopped by the restaurant that day, inquiring if anyone talks to him often.

The story cuts back to 25 April with JungKook in class at his new school. His mom likes the dormitory here, and he suspects that she feels more comfortable without him at home. School, home, the dorms—he doesn’t belong in any of those places. While pairing up the students, the teacher notices that they have an odd number now and asks JungKook where he wants to go. He closes his eyes and remembers a voice: “JungKook, let’s all go to the ocean.” He thinks, “I want to go…” The scene jumps to JungKook walking towards the ocean shore. The glass shatters.

SeokJin opens his eyes on the morning of 11 April. He wonders what caused the loop to reset and assumes something must have happened to JungKook after he transferred schools. Again, he could not keep his promise of getting them all to the ocean. The episode ends with SeokJin sitting atop the seaside observatory at sunset. (This is a key location on 22 May Year 22, recurring in The Notes and depicted in the HYYH On Stage: Prologue short film and Euphoria MV. It looks the same in the game.) SeokJin ruminates on what may have happened to JungKook and where events started going wrong. He thought he could be the person JungKook needed to lean on, but he failed. This arc concludes with him wondering: “Was my method wrong? Or is it not supposed to be me? Maybe… If the person who’s supposed to console JungKook’s scars and be there for him isn’t me… Then, who can save JungKook?”

The End of His Gaze

SeokJin’s main challenge in saving YoonGi is the unpredictability of his actions between loops. The opening of this story is no different. On 2 May Year 22, SeokJin chases YoonGi after he leaves his workroom with a heavy bag but loses sight of him in the streets. As soon as he picks the nearest motel, black smoke pours from one of its windows. (The sign matches the motel in YoonGi’s scenes of the I Need U MV.) YoonGi ignores the commotion outside the room’s locked door. Once again, SeokJin is too late, and the glass shatters, resetting the loop.

Waking in his bedroom on 11 April, SeokJin considers how YoonGi backs himself into a corner no matter how or when he tries to intervene. It’s different from the incident with NamJoon because no outside person or situation is involved. SeokJin realizes that if YoonGi’s struggle and variables that make his decision so unpredictable are within him, then the only way he can stop YoonGi is by truly understanding him. He takes out his old camcorder from high school, hoping its footage may reveal some clues. In the first video clip he plays, YoonGi is off in the corner of their classroom hideout drawing music staves but speaks up to tell HoSeok and TaeHyung not to play a prank on JiMin. SeokJin wonders if YoonGi still writes music and remembers the piano in his workroom. In the second video, TaeHyung quibbles with NamJoon, who is tired yet refuses to take a nap until YoonGi pushes some desks together and tells him to lie down. SeokJin focuses on YoonGi for the rest of the video, but he is either motionless or off camera. He finds a similar challenge within his photographs: he has less than ten solo photos of YoonGi, and though his face is visible in group pictures, he is never looking at the camera. Still perusing the photos, SeokJin overhears voices from the camcorder. “It being here is a secret. Okay?” TaeHyung whispers to YoonGi. “What’s a secret?” SeokJin in the recording asks. TaeHyung and YoonGi, standing by the piano, both whip around. TaeHyung dismisses it as nothing and shushes YoonGi when he asks, “Why are you hiding something like that?” In the present, SeokJin wonders what they hid in the classroom and decides that it’s worth investigating in case it can help him save YoonGi.

On 15 April, SeokJin visits their old classroom hideout at Jeil High School, which is still being used as a storage room. The player can choose from a total of four locations to explore, provided they select the piano last. SeokJin identifies his father’s name alongside the message “Everything started from here” on the graffitied wall (he first saw this note in his 25 June Year 19 entry from The Notes 1). Even after thoroughly examining the piano, he does not find YoonGi and TaeHyung’s secret or anything else useful. Uneasy at leaving YoonGi alone for so long, SeokJin leaves the school and parks in front of his friend’s workroom. YoonGi appears to be safely inside, so SeokJin browses through the old video files on his camcorder and finds one that continued recording after he thought he had pressed the stop button. Listening to his and YoonGi’s voices, he recalls a forgotten memory of the day they walked out of school together.

The majority of episode 3 plays through a memory of an afternoon that SeokJin and YoonGi walked out of school together (date unspecified; this event is also referenced in YoonGi’s 2 August Year 22 entry from The Notes 2 and the similar Note accompanying Map of the Soul: 7). SeokJin receives a text summoning him to the principal’s office. The office is empty yet suffocating when he arrives. Principal Jo JinMyung arrives and apologizes for making SeokJin wait. SeokJin looks down, heart suddenly heavy. The scene cuts to YoonGi entering the storage classroom as he thinks about all the days he doesn’t feel like going home. It’s not a comfortable place for him, yet there’s nothing for him at the school either, except for the group’s hideout. He feels awkward in the oddly quiet room and puts some sheet music on the piano’s rack. But when he thinks about how no one is there requesting songs from him, he can’t bring his hands up to the keys. The flashback transitions back to SeokJin’s perspective following his meeting with the principal. As expected, the principal wanted him to report on YoonGi’s behavior. SeokJin spoke carefully so as not to tip him off about anything, but he hears internal whispers calling himself a hypocrite even when he’s laughing with his friends. Fretting over how much longer he can protect YoonGi, SeokJin runs into him at the classroom hideout’s door. He hopes YoonGi doesn’t notice how flustered he is, but YoonGi doesn’t say anything beyond confirming that he’s heading home. SeokJin tries to strike up a conversation as they walk out together, but the conversation awkwardly fizzles out whether he brings up food or the weather. YoonGi points out that his phone is buzzing, and SeokJin’s camcorder falls from his bag as he looks for it. YoonGi waves him off when SeokJin films him to test that it still works. He sheepishly lowers the camcorder and forgets to turn it off. YoonGi breaks the uncomfortable silence when they are almost across the field. “Is something up? You didn’t look very happy earlier.” Heart pounding, SeokJin tries to laugh off this sharp question with an excuse, but YoonGi stares straight at him. “You’re awkward too, SeokJin.” “What is?” “Your laugh.” YoonGi pauses before continuing, “When was the last time you genuinely laughed?”

The scene fades back to the present in SeokJin’s car (15 April). He can’t make out the rest of their conversation in the recording or remember what he answered. He wonders why YoonGi asked him that. SeokJin was always tense then, afraid that his friends would learn of his meetings with the principal. Did the others notice, too? While he’s lost in these thoughts, someone outside shouts, “Fire!” Flames erupt from YoonGi’s workroom. Realizing he should have focused on YoonGi and not the video, SeokJin runs into the building. As he tries to open the locked door, he hears the glass shatter.

The fourth episode opens on the night of 11 April with SeokJin watching JungKook and YoonGi walk away from the construction site and towards NamJoon’s container. A few days later, SeokJin spots JungKook on the sidewalk on his way to YoonGi’s workroom. When asked where he’s going, JungKook avoids his gaze and replies, “I was just… walking around.” SeokJin knows this is because he has nowhere to go. Not wanting JungKook to keep wandering and remembering that he was once close with YoonGi, SeokJin invites him along. The perspective switches to JungKook as they enter the workroom. It reeks of alcohol, and YoonGi is fast asleep among empty bottles. “YoonGi… will be okay, right?” he asks. SeokJin picks up the bottles without responding. A memory from their school days occurs to JungKook. TaeHyung chased him around their classroom hideout, trying to snatch his sketchbook and succeeding when JungKook found his escape unintentionally blocked by YoonGi standing in the doorway. JungKook was dismayed when YoonGi called TaeHyung over to the piano so they could look at it together, but then YoonGi deceived TaeHyung and threw the sketchbook to JungKook. In the present, SeokJin doesn’t want to waste time while YoonGi sleeps. He taps a lost-in-thought JungKook on the shoulder and says they should leave, but JungKook responds that he will stay until YoonGi wakes. 

Back again at the classroom hideout, SeokJin hunts further around the piano. He uses an old mop handle to fish out a piece of paper from underneath it. The hidden secret turns out to be TaeHyung’s abysmal math test. Dejected, SeokJin slumps to the floor. On this level, he notices a small handle on the piano’s lower panel and uses it to pop off the cover. Faded music sheets are wedged into the piano’s frame. A phrase on one of them catches SeokJin’s eye. (함께 라면 웃을 수 있다 : The Korean is not translated in game, but Google translates it as “if we are together, we can laugh.” This recurring phrase is instead translated as “we can laugh when we’re together” in The Notes 2. In YoonGi’s 2 August Year 22 entry, he also reflects on finding the note written in the margins of the music scores he took from the classroom. The handwriting isn’t his own. Additionally, a similar sentiment is expressed in a line of You Never Walk Alone, which is the basis for one of the BU-inspired Graphic Lyrics books.)

This message reminds SeokJin of YoonGi’s question: “When was the last time you genuinely laughed?” “This moment is the answer to that question,” he thinks, initiating a flashback to 20 March Year 19. The boys gathered around HoSeok in the classroom, chattering excitedly about the new club he’s leading. TaeHyung jokingly called him “Mr. President.” HoSeok told him only members could call him that before asking YoonGi if he wanted to join. “I’ll allow you to join without an audition, but only you.” TaeHyung exclaimed that he was just trying to get YoonGi to call him president. “Oh, it was obvious?” HoSeok chuckled. “Acting up again, huh?” YoonGi spoke up from the corner. The memory fades, returning to a pensieve SeokJin. He clearly remembers YoonGi’s face as he laughed with the others. “When did we stop laughing? Did it start that day, when I ruined everything?” SeokJin wonders. “It’s my fault,” he says aloud, standing there with the sheet music in hand until the sun begins to set. (Note: the date of the memory may be a typo. On 20 March Year 20 in The Notes 1, TaeHyung overheard SeokJin in the classroom informing the principal of the trouble he and YoonGi had gotten into. SeokJin realized that NamJoon heard it but not TaeHyung, who remained hidden out of sight and then pretended not to know. It’s not impossible that this memory really occurred in March Year 19, but most of them had only met at the beginning of that month.)

On the night of 15 April, SeokJin follows YoonGi at a distance from his workroom to an alleyway bar. (It is possible but not entirely clear that this is the same day SeokJin found the sheet music at the classroom, which is why I did not specify the date earlier.) It appears that YoonGi visits this bar often since the owner asks him if he has money today. SeokJin sits at a table behind YoonGi and watches him knock back shot after shot. Deciding that he shouldn’t leave him alone any longer, SeokJin musters up the courage to join him. YoonGi doesn’t look surprised to see him. He smiles before looking down again. SeokJin attempts a natural conversation to catch up. YoonGi asks why he didn’t come along the night when everyone got together at NamJoon’s container. “It’s been awhile since we’ve all seen each other, and JungKook… Never mind. You were probably busy.” SeokJin apologizes and inquires how JungKook is doing, then turns the same question on YoonGi when he replies that he doesn’t know. “Anything new with you?” SeokJin presses when YoonGi avoids his gaze. “Well, as you can see.” YoonGi dodges a direct answer.

The restaurant owner brings them a second glass. They are quiet in a restaurant full of chatter. SeokJin brings up the past to break the awkward silence, asking if YoonGi remembers the day they walked out of high school together. “Why do you ask?” says YoonGi. SeokJin explains that he remembered what YoonGi said to him that afternoon. “I want to ask you the same thing you asked me then.” SeokJin is nervous but continues, not wanting to waste this opportunity. “When was the last time you genuinely laughed?” YoonGi is silent for a moment. “Who knows.” SeokJin encourages him to think about it. “What good is it whether I remember or not? It wouldn’t change things now, even if I remembered.” YoonGi’s refusal to express his feelings upsets SeokJin more than his indifferent tone. “I just wish he would open up to me so I could figure out… anything. If only I could tell him,” SeokJin thinks. His internal narration continues over a shot of him in high school looking at his phone: “Or maybe… If I went back further in time, mustering up the courage to protect my friends, and prevented YoonGi from being expelled. If I did, maybe now we’d be…” “What’s with that expression?” YoonGi’s voice snaps him into the present, and he stares at SeokJin the way he had when they walked home from school. “Nothing, just… I feel like it’s been a while since I last saw you and I’m wasting time with useless subjects. It’s nothing—” SeokJin tries to laugh it off, but YoonGi interrupts. “You’re the same as always… There’s something there in your expression, but you say that it’s nothing.” This remark hits hard, rendering SeokJin speechless.

YoonGi’s words echo in SeokJin’s head even after he arrives home later that night. How did YoonGi notice what SeokJin thought he kept well-hidden? He once viewed YoonGi as someone who was indifferent to the world and trying to distance himself from everything. It dawns on SeokJin that he is mistaken. He opens his camcorder, hoping to see something new with this changed perspective. A recording plays in which he, YoonGi, and JungKook are the only ones present in the classroom hideout. When YoonGi starts playing piano, JungKook gets up from the desk and carefully stands by him. YoonGi doesn’t seem bothered and continues to play. Suddenly, he stops. “You wanna try?” In the present, SeokJin wonders why he asks JungKook that out of the blue and replays the footage, feeling like he missed something. This time, he notices that JungKook begins chewing his nails before YoonGi asks him. “Can I?” says JungKook. “Why not? It’s not my piano or anything. You can play if you want to.” At YoonGi’s words, the color returns to JungKook’s face and his hands drop from his mouth. SeokJin watches a little more of the video. As the recorded YoonGi patiently corrects JungKook’s wrong notes, he realizes that YoonGi doesn’t merely ask JungKook to play on a whim but out of respect for him.

SeokJin turns his attention to his box of photos. The player can choose up to three to examine. SeokJin realizes that YoonGi is a little further behind the group and not looking at the camera not because he feels left out or is avoiding attention, but because he is always watching how they are all together. YoonGi knows us very well, he thinks. He stopped JungKook from biting his nails by asking him to play the piano rather than acknowledging it directly. He saw through SeokJin and recognized when his laughter wasn’t genuine, even after several years apart. SeokJin thought that YoonGi wanted to give up everything, would never open up to anyone, and experienced feelings that were impossible for him to understand. “But if we were the ones to make YoonGi laugh… It may be possible to save YoonGi,” SeokJin reflects. With more determination, he vows to save him. “I’ll save him no matter what, because we can laugh when we’re together.”

SeokJin visits YoonGi every day after their meeting at the bar, responding that he’s making time to see him when asked if all university students have this much free time. They grow more accustomed to each other’s company, but SeokJin’s glimmer of hope fades as alcohol and aimless wandering continues to fill YoonGi’s life. Since just visiting YoonGi’s workroom seems meaningless, on 24 April SeokJin decides to show him the sheet music he found in the hideout, hoping it will encourage him to resume songwriting. Upon seeing the music, YoonGi has a flashback to 25 June Year 20, the day he received the school expulsion notice. He ran immediately to the classroom and played the piano as though possessed. The anger refused to settle. He shoved all of his sheet music into the piano and vowed to never play the piano again. In the present, YoonGi asks, “Where’d you find this?” At his cold expression, SeokJin wonders what he’s done wrong and explains aloud that he just happened to find it in the hideout’s piano. The papers fall from YoonGi’s hand, scattering across the floor. “Leave,” he spits. “What? Min YoonGi, what’s going on?” SeokJin asks. YoonGi shoves him. “Just leave.” “Don’t do this, let’s talk for a moment,” SeokJin tries again. But YoonGi replies, “I have nothing to say to you.”

YoonGi avoids him after that. On 25 April, SeokJin calls him numerous times without any answer and finds only torn sheet music and empty bottles in his workroom. He remembers YoonGi’s last words to him and says aloud, “It can’t be. No way.” An ominous thought crosses his mind, but he forces it out to focus on recalling something from memory. The story cuts to him running down a street, trying to figure out where YoonGi went to set the fire in the last loop. (It is never clarified what SeokJin’s “ominous thought” is—it may refer to YoonGi setting a fire or possibly even a suspicion that YoonGi figured out SeokJin was involved in his expulsion.) SeokJin finds the same motel (the one with the sign like in the I Need U MV) and rushes upstairs in a cold sweat. Faced with a hallway of identical doors, he doesn’t know how to locate YoonGi’s room. Whether the player chooses for him to call out to YoonGi or “think of something else” (which results in him pulling the fire alarm), the result is ultimately the same. SeokJin forces open the last closed door with a fire extinguisher, but the room is empty. Filled with regret, SeokJin wonders what he has done wrong. “Like an idiot, I… I knew that the location and method of YoonGi’s attempt could change, and yet…”

“Fire!” someone yells. The motel across the street erupts in flames. “No! Please…” SeokJin begs, falling to his knees. “How can I stop this tragedy? … Am I not enough to stop it?” The story ends as he hears the glass shatter once again.

Additional Thoughts

For me, JungKook’s arc really draws back the curtain on SeokJin’s private life. It demonstrates SeokJin’s challenge to balance saving his friends and maintaining his own daily life, particularly fulfilling the duties that fall to him as a prominent assemblyman’s son. We see little of this side of him until The Notes 2, when his perspective has already drastically changed.

JungKook’s reflection about his habit of walking along the edges of walls is an interesting moment of self-awareness. This “tightrope-walking” is depicted frequently in the MVs.

The car accident and loop reset at the beginning of JungKook’s 4th episode suggests the possibility that the I Need U MV depicts JungKook deliberately stepping in front of the oncoming car rather than accidentally. (Maybe people have already interpreted it this way, but personally the thought had never occured to me due to how it’s shot and acted.) The car accident is a recurring theme in the loops for JungKook, particularly as he is struck the night of 22 May and comes to believe that it was SeokJin who hit him.

This internal dialogue of SeokJin’s from YoonGi’s arc gives me a lot to think about: “If I went back further in time, mustering up the courage to protect my friends, and prevented YoonGi from being expelled. If I did, maybe now we’d be…” SeokJin’s first experiences of the time loops are depicted in the Save Me Webtoon. At that time, he believes that 11 April is the date that he can begin fixing things, but it’s not clear if this ability granted by the cat-like creature truly gives him control over to which date the loop resets. (It is more obvious that he cannot control what triggers the reset itself.) Does he ever go back earlier? Only *ahem* time will tell, but if you want some more food for thought, please check out these interesting quotes that occur before 11 April Year 22.

As mentioned above, the following “tl;dr” commentary summarizes the parenthetical notes I provided in the summaries in case you want to review them on their own.

The Boy on the Threshold — tl;dr commentary

SeokJin’s flashback to 3 March Year 19, when all seven boys arrived late on the first day at Songju Jeil High School and were scolded outside by the Dean, looks very similar to the BTS Begins Middle Scene VCR (aside from the absence of extra students), including the detail of YoonGi arriving last. This VCR predates official BU content.

The photo in SeokJin’s collection that catches JungKook’s eye resembles the shot in the Euphoria MV at 5’32” (the seven boys sitting on a wall with the ocean behind them) except that they appear to be wearing school uniform shirts and slacks.

JungKook’s flashback to the night of 7 April Year 22 expands the context of his reunion with YoonGi, adding that he is drawn to the music shop by a familiar tune and through its broken window sees YoonGi playing piano. YoonGi doesn’t notice him when he staggers outside, and JungKook tries to play the music by memory. In his 7 April Year 22 entry of The Notes 1, YoonGi is drunk and stumbling by an empty construction site when he recognizes a clumsy piano tune that he’d been playing “not long ago.” But when he runs to the music shop and finds JungKook, the text does not indicate that he remembers this is his second visit to the shop this evening. Additionally, the Wings short film First Love seems to reference some of the events of this night—or evokes YoonGi’s distorted memories of it, mingled with a representation of JungKook’s later accident.

I mentioned in part 1’s introduction that every episode’s ending is identical regardless of the decisions made by the player, but the end of episode 4 is actually cosmetically different (a wobbling camera/animation effect) if the second path is selected for the last choice. The dialogue is the same.

The end of episode 7 depicts the seaside observatory. This is a key location on 22 May Year 22, recurring in The Notes and depicted in the HYYH On Stage: Prologue short film and Euphoria MV. It looks the same in the game.

The End of His Gaze — tl;dr commentary

The motel sign at the beginning and end of the story matches the one visible in YoonGi’s shots of the I Need U MV.

When searching the classroom hideout for clues on 15 April, SeokJin identifies his father's name alongside the message “Everything started from here” on the graffitied wall. He first saw this note in his 25 June Year 19 entry from The Notes 1.

Episode 3 presents a memory from both SeokJin’s and YoonGi’s perspectives of the afternoon that they walked out of school together. Although the date is unspecified, this event is also referenced in YoonGi’s 2 August Year 22 entry from The Notes 2 and the similar Note accompanying Map of the Soul: 7.

On his second attempt at searching the classroom, SeokJin finds sheet music that was hidden inside the piano. A phrase written in the corner of one paper catches his eye: 함께 라면 웃을 수 있다. The Korean is not translated in game, but Google translates it as “if we are together, we can laugh.” This recurring phrase is instead translated as “we can laugh when we’re together” in The Notes 2. In YoonGi’s 2 August Year 22 entry, he also reflects on finding the note written in the margins of the music scores he took from the classroom. The handwriting isn’t his own. Additionally, a similar sentiment is expressed in a line of You Never Walk Alone, which is the basis for one of the BU-inspired Graphic Lyrics books.

SeokJin has a flashback of 20 March Year 19 in which the boys are excitedly chattering about HoSeok’s new club. However, given the larger context of this moment (both in the past and what prompts it in the present), the date of the memory may be a typo. On 20 March Year 20 in The Notes 1, TaeHyung overheard SeokJin in the classroom informing the principal of the trouble he and YoonGi had gotten into. SeokJin realized that NamJoon heard it but not TaeHyung, who remained hidden out of sight and then pretended not to know. It’s not impossible that this memory really occurred in March Year 19, but most of them had only met at the beginning of that month.

Did you learn anything new from these stories that I did not specifically mention? Let me know in the replies or tags! Please stay tuned for part 3, featuring JiMin and HoSeok’s stories.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

The Thief and the Tinker, Part 4: Circles and Cycles

part 3

Part 4

Viren: *smirks and plinks Runaan's coin to Ethari*

Ethari, furious: You throw another Moonshadow at me and I'm gonna lose it.

Circles and Cycles

Angst rating: 8/10

Back to Ethari, because we're not done with him yet. Ethari is soft, but he isn't weak. He won't be a willing pawn for Viren. He loves Runaan to the point of invention, and his devotion is more constant than the moon itself. He'll agree to do what Viren says, and he'll be Very Sad. But his spirit is in no way broken. Viren bribing him with the coins containing his family will only have the opposite effect. It'll give Ethari something to fight for.

We could get Focused Chaos Ethari. We could get Angery Trickster Ethari. We could get Rules, What Rules? Ethari. Let him try to steal the coins, try to break them, try to kill Viren, and be stymied at every turn, until he settles and seems cowed. And then all he does is craft his way out of the problem.

What if we are gifted with Iron Man Elf Ethari, who pretends to build a fake Key for Viren, but meanwhile he's really building a coinbuster with whatever he can get his hands on - primal stones, magically imbued gemstones, stolen artifacts, his own arcanum, his own reputation as the Master Craftsman of the Silvergrove. He'll use almost - almost - anything, to stop Viren and free his family.

Ethari may have to choose between those two things, though. And he's a hero, deep down, just like his family, just like his daughter. If he has to choose, he'll choose to stop Viren and save Xadia. He'll pay the same price as his family has if he must.

He'd let Viren think he was motivated purely by wanting his family back, but Ethari is far too steeped in the illusion and sacrifice for that to be all there is to his motives. It's a so-close-and-yet-so-far thing, how he and Viren almost embody the same ideals. Almost. Ethari would take one look at Viren, who just burnt down his whole Forest, he'd see the biggest threat in Xadia, and he'd say anything to get a chance to stop this juggernaut of destruction from getting his hands on whatever that ultimate power really is, locked behind that missing key. If he has to abandon his people and bawl his eyes out to convince Viren he's in, then he will.

And Viren wouldn't make it easy for him. He knows clever when he sees it. He went through all this trouble to persuade Ethari to work with him. He would need to keep Ethari as off-balance as possible to ensure that he keeps working as he should.

Angsty jewelry, anyone?

Viren giving Ethari his husband in pendant form to remind him what he's working for, when Viren and Ethari both know full well that only dark magic can open the hellcoins. Ethari wearing another pendant of his love, except it's not a metaphor this time. It's literally his love, in a coin around his neck.

Viren would love making Ethari stay close to him of his own free will if he ever hoped to free Runaan. Making people bind themselves to you is a big power flex. Remember that TDP stream future-season teaser note about Bait being in a creepy restraint in a future season?

This card is written on in all-caps, so that really could be "Bait" or "bait," or--knowing this show--both. Viren's been using Runaan as bait for Ethari all along. Putting his coin in a dark magic pendant casing for Ethari to wear would be a great parallel for that. Oh god. Oh man.

Maybe he'll stab the coin's scary casing right through that circle on Ethari's chest, right over his heart, make that Iron Man reference really obvious. Ethari also losing his shirt at some point, for angsty Viren-related reasons? It's more likely than you think. I mean... Ethari is literally involved in both forms of forging at this point. Shirt's gotta come off for uhhhh work reasons. And because he's hot. Because of all the forging. Mmhmm. I mean how else are we finally going to discover what his markings look like this is research I swear

I mentioned that I liked god-tier villains, right? Yeah, this is amazing. I haven't wanted to die and ascend over an idea for quite a while, but Ethari vs Viren in a drawn-out battle of wills would kill me in the best way. Especially since, while it looks like they're essentially fighting for who gets Runaan, they're truly fighting a much larger battle with much higher stakes. They're fighting for the future itself. It's an epic struggle between the Narrative of Strength and the Narrative of Love. And we've seen what happens, over and over, when the Narrative of Strength gets to call the shots.

On a meta note: If Ruthari's story arc isn't a love letter from one trauma survivor to another, and on a broader scope to all survivors who see it, I don't know what is. Sometimes life just chews us up and spits us out and we can't stop it and it breaks us. But sometimes we can reach out and grasp the chance to help each other, even after that, even when it hurts a lot, because we know what it means to be loved, and to love, and to want a safer future for each other and for people we'll never meet. The future is worth standing together for, helping each other back up for, fighting side by side for, even if you can't see how it'll end, or even how to begin. We are stronger together, and sometimes we need to fight for our "together" before we can fight for anything else. And that's worth it, every time.

This is glorious, it's beautiful, it's tragic, it's amazing, it makes me want to dance, it makes me want to scream into the void, it makes me want to slap someone with a semi truck. No, someone specific, don't worry, and he super deserves it.

Because Ethari is going to win. He was always going to win. He's soft, and he's clever, and he hasn't forgotten what love means. It's what he's fighting for. Not power, not control. Love. He doesn't want to dictate Runaan's future or anyone else's. He just wants his husband--and everyone else--to have one at all.

So he's going to win.

What thwarting Viren looks like, I couldn't possibly guess. TDP is no stranger to angst, so there will probably be a high cost involved in outwitting the dark mage. Maybe not everyone can be rescued from the coins. Maybe Ethari will lose his life, or his soul, or his vision, or something else really angsty. Viren could even kill him and resurrect him as a smoky craftsman, or a zombie craftsman, or something equally biddable but horrible. The only thing I'm sure of is that Ethari would never willingly make a working Key of Aaravos Ethari as long as there's a chance Viren could possess it. But I do believe that if he gets the right opportunity while he's busy saving the world from Viren's dark intentions, he'll break his husband's hellcoin open somehow and set him free, even if he has to smile at the devil to do it.

Ethari understands the difference between "you can" and "therefore you should." He might sacrifice his own world to save his husband, but he'd never sacrifice someone else's world. That's one of the Moonshadow cultural limits I've noticed: they accept boundaries when it comes to other people's autonomous rights, especially regarding life and death.

These limits could get pushed. Ethari will be under great duress and emotional strain if he goes through this kind of interaction with Viren. And maybe he will choose some dark things. Everyone else has. But I'm placing all my eggs in the basket labeled "Saved By Love." Either I'm right, or I'll get the best angst omelets in the universe. And I do love omelets. A villain invented them, you know. ;)

Another support for Ethari not making the key for Viren: the real Key exists!

Callum has it right now. The plot doesn't need Ethari's key (yet? ever?), but it does need Ethari to learn what he's made of, to stand up for something, or against something, or both at once. And once he learns what he will and won't do and the universe has rewarded his discovery with the return of his beloved husband then Ethari will be ready to take on whatever else the plot has in mind for him.

Depending on the plan, all of these events could happen in S4, as a setup for even bigger things to follow. Viren's wishes can be thwarted here and the show's overall tension will only continue to rise. It would let Ethari flex yes pls his skills so we know who he is, it would show how driven Viren can be for a long-term goal, it would let Claudia saunter further downwards, it would reveal some human/Moonshadow history, and it would resolve the seasons-long tension regarding Runaan's fate, allowing for the cycle of speculation, feels, angst, and Ruthari fanart to begin again. ;) Viren would need to find another way to pursue his long-term goal. And Callum's Key will get a little more clarity on just how important it is to the fate of the world - which will make everything he does, and everyone he talks to, and anyone who knows what he's carrying, intensely important.

Nyx is gonna steal it isn't she, omg chaos birb

To Viren, Ethari was a main course, meant to be devoured and consumed in his lifelong quest for something that will finally satisfy. But to Ethari, Viren was just empty calories to be passed over in favor of ordering his perennial favorite dish, one more time.

Once Ethari escapes Viren's clutches with as much of his family as he can rescue, Viren may turn back to looking for the real Key, especially if someone's seen it recently. Hunting a kid probably seems easier than hunting a full-grown Moonshadow craftsman who just outsmarted him. okay so maybe Nyx stealing it would be a good thing and save Callum's life

Ethari could go on to help repair the Sunforge, or rebuild the Moonhenge, or work on constructing Moonshadow villages in Katolis if he hasn't been ghosted for abandoning everyone after the forest fire. He might build magical devices for any number of reasons, to help all kinds of characters. Hopefully, wherever he goes, he'll have Runaan with him, in some way, for at least a little while. Cycles be like, and I feel like Runaan will not want to remain still for long, for whatever reason. Does he need revenge, atonement, justice, a new body, to find Rayla, to find Ezran? He'll be back in action as soon as he can, I think.

Okay, but, I'm so soft at the thought of a scene where Runaan and Ethari come before King Ezran. The husbands tried to save their people Runaan's way, the old way, and it only continued to endanger them. Following the cycle, as Moonshadows do, was the wrong move. But the son of the last human Runaan killed reached out with mercy and broke a thousand years of suffering and sorrow and hatred. Ezran did what Runaan couldn't: he saved the Moonshadow elves from total destruction. And that, more than anything else in the world, could soften one very broody assassin's heart toward humans again.

What would Runaan do, if his heart truly changed toward humans? What would he say to Ezran? I could see him struggling for a long moment before dropping to one knee to pledge his heart as he once had to do before the Dragon Throne. He doesn't know any other way but to serve. Ezran, reading the whole room and everyone's feelings before he tells Runaan that No, we don't do that here. That he's free, and free means free. No chains, no oaths. Just trust and friendship. He should get to make his own decisions for a change, even though that can be hard and scary sometimes. Runaan being genuinely scared, because that's too much freedom. But he's not alone. He has Ethari, and Ezran, and Rayla, and Callum, and their people, and their allies. And no matter what else happens, the people of Katolis - elven and human - will find a way forward. Together.

part 5

[nightswithkookmin]

You need to back up your ON break up theory with more than just fake subs and vague statements about 'claiming behavior'.

During the period you allege they were broken up, Jimin pulled Jungkook in a hug on run behind, Jungkook called Jimin sexy at a press conference, Jimin and jungkook did that whole 'how does it feel to be in the same unit'/'time to change' flirty thing, Jimin grabbed Jungkook by the lapels... and more. Begging pardon but if they were grieving the loss of their romantic relationship while trying to be professional colleagues and pals.... isnt that sort of insensitive? Like I know you admitting you might have read it wrong and have changed your view in light of new footage might be a blow to your ego, but I don't think you are thinking rationally when you insist on this break up theory. It's sad because I found so much meaning and connection in some of the stuff you have written, particularly pertaining to internalized homophobia, racism, mysogynoir and bts changing over time to become more enlightened, but your devotion to this ONE theory, and defensiveness whenever it is (rightly imo) challenged makes me wary of your theories in general, which might be extremely unfair to you, as a thinker. Your log is really funny and great in a lot of ways so i cant really quit you.

Ahhhh it's been a while I got one of these...

Hello, how you doing! Lol. Silver is that you?

Chilee, it's the name calling for me.

Ego, irrational, charlatan, Tuktukker- I'm desensitized to such ad hominems at this point. You don't throw words like these around and expect me to sit at the table and talk. Imma yeet myself out real fast. Lol.

There's just something different, wholesome almost, about this post though. Sounds constructive I think. Or maybe it's because I just woke. Chilee. Lol.

It doesn't feel at all like you are attacking me. It's strange...

You're gaslighting though but it's fine. I've built a resistance to that from years and years of dealing with my abductors or family. Potato potahto.

I often put my sanity before other's insanity which is why I don't indulge posts such as these and I'm not sorry about that. I mean is this an Ask or Submission? I don't- what am I supposed to say? What is the call to action?

Sigh.

If I come across as defensive sometimes, 10 out of 10, it's probably because the person on the other end is being offensive. Straight up. Cause and effect, the science don't lie.

You don't expect me to not defend when I'm being attacked. That's just tacky.

I don't think there's anything wrong with challenging views and notions because at the very least, that's about the exchange of ideas and I welcome it.

I set the limits at the racial slurs, the mocking tones, the emotionally charged rants meant to disparage me and my entire ancestry rather than argue a point, the interference with my personal life and business all because I hold a different view on a topic, the doxing, gaslighting, the bad mouthing, spreading lies about me, turning my friends against me, stripping away my rights and copyrights, harassing people who enjoy my work among- other things.

I usually exercise my right to self preservation in these instances- imma block, delete, ignore, forward or clap back. Word. Lol.

I'm sorry, but if you have to attack the individuality of a person to argue your point, you've lost the argument and you never had one to begin with.

Take for instance, the bit you wrote about me taking a blow to 'my ego' - do you see the problem with that?

What has holding a view different from yours on a particular subject got to do with the ego?

Do you mean to say the only way I can hold an opinion different from yours on a matter is if I were hubristic?

Are you projecting? What's happening? Lol

And if I call you out for this, I'm defensive? Way to add gaslighting to your bigotry and intolerance of opinions that don't align with yours. No offense.

I give myself permission to hold unpopular views. I give myself permission to think differently from others. I give myself permission to see what I see and believe what I believe and form an opinion on what I see and believe divorced from others' views and based on my own understanding of the workings of this world or in this case Jikook.

No amount of name calling will change this fact. We see things from different perspectives after all.

You need to back your ON break up theory with more than just fake subs and vague claims about claiming behavior.

Lol. Fake subs? You mean the Hajima bit from the On comeback special I put in my video? Interesting.

I think I see what you mean about my break up theory and I agree to some extent. Like, come up here with charts and paragraphs and excel spreadsheets on why I think Jikook were broken up?

I would be happy to do that kind of analysis.

I think the problem for me here is, I feel tasked to convince rather than to share my opinion on the matter or even expand on my theories for discourse sakes and that makes me really uncomfortable.

Not to psychoanalyze you, but I feel when you ask this of me you are not just asking me to divulge my thoughts on a topic but to disabuse you of your own biases surrounding the topic.

I don't think this is about my opinion at all. I think it's about your own beliefs about Jikook. And there's nothing wrong with that. If you believe in something you need to stand for it. Just don't mind if others do same and don't call them names for doing so. Because if you do mind, then that's bigotry.

The fact is my opinion contradicts your beliefs about Jikook and you either want to punish me for it hence the slurs, are in denial, or you want to believe my point of view- can't really tell.

I think there is a limit in general to how far I can prove Jikook in anyway and that has nothing to do with lack of evidence, my ego or my rationality. And yes, I often shroud my beliefs in vague expressions because I don't want to set myself up or open myself up to legal suits. I can only prove Jikook to a point and nothing beyond my belief. Beyond that, I would be skating on thin ice and making bighit a tad richer.

During the period you allege they were broken up, Jimin pulled JK in a hug, grabbed Jungkook by his lapel, JK called Jimin sexy, they did the flirty challenge...

So if I understand you correctly, all these is what makes Jikook a couple to you and indicate they are dating?

Alright then.

Hobi calls Jimin sexy all the time. BTS calls eachother sexy all the time. I don't think that's a sign they are in a polyamory.

Jungkook plays with his hyungs' dick and ass and talks about falling for them most times. I don't think that makes him gay or in a relationship with any of them.

Lemme just cut to the chase. I've reached my photo limits. I have said a countless times now, that I don't view skinship and all these interactions you've pointed out as indication two people are dating- especially not two Koreans working within the homoerotically charged space of Kpop.

And I have given out a few of the metrics I use in considering whether any ship in BTS is real over the course of my blogs- intimacy, exclusive behaviors such as and not limited to claiming eachother and exercising certain rights and authorities over eachother and against the group, stress trails as a result of keeping their relationship a secret, the microaggressions, breaching the fourth wall and others.

I think what this comes down to is differences in perspectives on a fundamental level. Not egos.

I don't see the things you see as the signs Jikook are real and dating, as signs Jikook are real and dating. If I did, I would be seeing every ship in BTS as real but I don't.

And you consider the metrics I use in ascertaining Jikook as vague something something. I think we are at an impasse.

But explain the bit about 'insensitive' to me please. I would love to engage in that discourse. Why would it be insensitive for two exes to act cordially with eachother within a workplace in the aftermath of a breakup?

Then the bit about grieving...

So grieving is one of your metrics for accessing whether or not two people are broken up?

That's interesting. I mean I don't disagree but I also don't think Jikook are gonna come to work with oversized pajamas, dark shades, boxes of tissues and a blanket slung over their shoulders because of a broken heart... it's 2020 not Manila. They've grown, are learning and getting better at dealing with their emotions on camera because, as Suga pointed out, they are aware the least bit of tension translates to the screens.

I mean Jimin said it himself in his 2020 interview, he's learned to react less intensely to certain things. And sometimes, he tries to downplay certain things. He tries to perform Jikook when Jikook are not in a great place. It's only in recent times, On era, where JK has opted out and not gone along with it.

I think he does that and uses their shared 'Jikook agenda' and performances of Jikook as a means to fix things or break the ice between them at least.

But clearly Jk wasn't having it that day as he kept putting up boundaries with Jimin throughout that Run episode- unless of course you are disputing this as well on the grounds Jimin dragged his ass into a hug. Chilee.

I think most people wouldn't have felt there was something off with Jikook in that On period at all had it not been for Run 116. It's similar to how, had it not been for Jimin's birthday saga, the Esquire shoot behind scenes and Grammy reaction video, no one would have felt there was something going on between Jikook in the October timeline.

I think we would have seen and felt the less interactions and professionalism between them in the aftermath of it but for the most parts, moments like the couch scene in the Grammy reaction video wouldn't have made sense to any of us especially as we had just witnessed JK in the ON:E concert rushing to comfort and console JM when he was tearing up at the end of the concert.

At least when he pushed JM into a ditch somewhere in the dark in Soop we know he had been drinking and they were playing competitive sports. Even with that he still showed some concern when Jimin fell and injured himself afterwards.

I think we would all be wondering if Jikook were fanservice at that point, a fanservice relationship where JK only consoled Jimin when he cried infront of thousands of people at concerts and nibbled his ear while he was at it.

And I think we would be on opposite sides of the argument: me, arguing Jikook were experiencing a hiccup in their relationship and you, rationalizing that moment with anything from 'JK don't have to be at JM's beck and call' 'he is an introvert who is shy to show affections publicly' to even something about the weather.

But I would have looked at this moment from the October pop up video behind scenes and assumed JK was mad at Jimin for something JM had done and had done something in retaliation and was now feeling sorry he did.

And I would have based it off of this moment, or a countless similar ones from around On era or the previous eras where JK had done this exact same thing- frozen in place and staring at Jimin in the middle of a shoot or interview after sliding his hands down Tae's chest, clung on to the others unnecessarily to get a reaction out of JM.

Would I have been right? It really doesn't matter to me as long as it makes sense to me. I ship Jikook in a way that makes sense to me. Jikook are gay, in a gay relationship with each other and are human like anyone of us- that makes sense to me. Whether I am right or wrong.... who cares and why does it matter?

Personally, I think the only person grieving in that period was JK not JM and I don't think he grieved for long before he switched off his humanity and went stone cold tit for tat terminator on JM and BTS's ass. Lol. He had JM looking all kinds of subdued in that era. Lmho.

People grieve in various ways. In my opinion. For Jimin, I feel he puts on a strong facade most times when he has to film during such times and lately I feel he masks his emotions with anger.

Jk masks his pain with anger too sometimes but I feel in recent times, he is leaning more towards indifference. I think he tries not to be as affected by certain things as compared to the early half of 2020...

But I understand what you mean when you talk about grieve. I think for me rather than look for physical evidence of grief like a sad face, a tear drop dripping down a face, I love for vulnerability in them.

JK's is easy to tell because he tends to open himself up to others such as Tae or Jin or Hobi- and I don't mean like his interactions with them. I mean he leans on them for moral or emotional support.

In the Holiday remix video where he was hiding behind Jin, I felt he was feeling very vulnerable and exposed after that intense moment with Jimin.

It's what he does when he is feeling vulnerable. He turns to others especially Jimin and if Jimin is the cause of his vulnerability he turns away from him like he did within On era or even in Run 116.

When he is in a good place with Jimin, often he is closed off to the others. Jimin does the opposite. He shuts himself up entirely from the group. I don't think he likes to go through his pain by himself.

I've always found that bit fascinating about them. Jk opens himself to people when he is at his lowest while JM closes himself off when he is at his worst.

It played out in their rainy day fight as well. In JK's vulnerability, that's when he let Jimin in, lowering his walls while JM on the other hand closed himself off to him.

Can you give me more than they were together in that period because they played with eachother's lapels?

You don't think I'm thinking rationally when I insist on my theory? Uhmmm... okay? What is rational in this case?

Listen, I recieve a lot of hate for my 'irrational thoughts and opinions' out in these streets. I've lost potentially great friendship on this platform because of it. As I type this, there is someone in someone else's DMs persuading them not to read and engage with my posts because I'm extremely evil I think Jikook break up from time to time in their relationship.

If I genuinely believed in the slightest least or had the least doubt that Jikook were together in that period I would change my mind on the topic- damn my pride and ego. It simply isn't worth the hustle.

If it helps your sanity, please stop reading my blogs. My blogs are not for everyone. It makes some people happy, it makes some people mad and some people experience both.

My gratification is in sharing my thoughts and chronicling Jikook's journey for my own appeasement and support of Jikook. I owe it to them as a believer and a supporter to humanize them as much as possible.

I do not seek to convert others, change minds, or convince anyone of my opinions or to disabuse anyone of theirs.

Let's just agree to disagree on the matter please. Or if you can drop the ad hominems, I would be more than happy to go back and forth with you on this very topic. It's actually shaping out to be one of my favorite Jikook eras. I love me some terminator JK. Lol.

Signed,

GOLDY

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 55: Movie Night

Lots of quotes from the movie Lilo & Stitch ahead! Fewer quotes, but some, from Trolls and Frozen.

Bold italics are trollish, ~tildes~ indicate goblin.

Content warnings for this chapter: Swearing. Here we reach the story's first F-bomb.

Also, there is some talk between characters about the harshness of life in the Darklands, how Changelings are treated by the Gumm-Gumms, and mentions of cannibalism.

This was supposed to be a light-happy chapter that got feels-y at the end, but then it went and got all dark on me.

Oh, also-also, (Not) Enrique finds out Claire flirted with Jim a while ago and misinterprets what exactly happened between them, but that gets cleared up fast.

Becoming The Mask

Once again, Javier and Ophelia Nuñez were out for the evening, leaving Claire in charge of Enrique. Claire had gotten permission to invite "some friends" over to watch movies. Jim and Toby arrived to find Mary and Darci already there – Jim suspected, like the time he'd 'babysat', that Claire had purposefully asked him to arrive after she knew her parents would be gone.

They set up piles of cushions and blankets on the floor between the couch and the TV. Jim propped the Amulet up on the coffee table they'd pushed to one side. Maybe some of the ghost Trollhunters would be interested in human movies.

"Finally get your fill of the touchy-feelies?" Enrique teased Jim, seeing how they were all seated separately. Jim snorted.

"Not hardly." He pulled the smaller Changeling in for a hug. "Humans just have different rules about casual touching, is all. Freezing to death's not really a concern in this climate."

"Wait, what?" said Toby, dropping the pillow he'd been holding. Jim looked up to see all the humans staring at him.

"Darklands thing," said Enrique easily. "Gets cold there."

"We'd sleep in piles," Jim explained. "I had a bit of a reputation for being … clingy."

"If you weren't good at finding food and soft stuff, we'd never've put up with ya." Enrique proved himself a liar by climbing onto Jim's shoulders instead of jumping back to the floor. He fluffed the hair on Jim's scalp. "Jimmy-boy got his first nickname for that."

"Shut up," said Jim playfully. "Anyway, humans get weird about touching around puberty. I can still hug Mom whenever I want, but Toby gets embarrassed if I hug him around other people, and Claire, Mary, and Darci haven't given me permission to touch them casually yet."

"… Did you … want permission?" asked Claire. "You, kinda, said you were uncomfortable with that, I thought."

"No, it was more wondering if you were flirting with me that felt weird," Jim assured her. "After that conversation I felt like it'd be awkward to bring up that I was open to hugging and such."

Jim thought he felt Enrique growl, to quietly to properly hear. His hand, still in Jim's hair, changed position so the tips of Enrique's claws were on Jim's scalp.

"When exactly did this happen?" Enrique asked.

"Claire kissed Jim on the cheek on his birthday and then Jim said he wasn't interested in dating her," said Mary.

"Also that I realized she might not have meant it in a flirty way and if I was misinterpreting things she could ignore what I was saying," Jim added. The claws retreated.

Claire looked away. "So what movie did we want to start with?"

"Lilo & Stitch!" exclaimed Darci, looking through the shelves. "I haven't watched this in forever!"

"That's a good one." Jim tilted his head to get Enrique back in his peripheral vision. "Enrique, have you seen it yet?"

"… Yeah."

"Isn't that the one that always makes you cry?" asked Toby.

"It's beautiful. Of course I cry."

Stitch was a constructed 'abomination', who shapeshifted to blend in, and his adopted family found out what he truly was and still wanted him. How could Jim be expected to keep his composure in the face of that?

"So, quick question," said Jim. "Is talking during the movie a crime, or is commentary what makes it a group activity?"

"Commentary," said all three girls together.

"Okay, good." Jim and Toby usually talked during movies, unless one or both of them were seeing it for the first time. Sometimes even then.

+=+

"Not guilty! My experiments are only theoretical, and completely within legal boundaries."

"We believe you actually created something."

"Created something? Ha! But that would be irresponsible, and, unethical. I would never, ever – make more than one."

"What is that monstrosity?"

"Monstrosity?! What you see before you is the first of a new species!"

"You have to wonder if she and Merlin ever had a talk like this," Enrique muttered in Jim's ear. Jim snickered.

"And as for that abomination … it is the flawed product of a deranged mind. It has no place among us."

Jim stopped laughing and cringed. He loved this movie a lot, but some of it stung.

+=+

"A quiet capture would require an understanding of 626 that we do not possess! Who, then, Mr Pleakley, would you send for his extraction?"

"… Does he have a brother? Close grandmother, perhaps?"

"Fun fact," said Darci, "in early drafts Stitch was a career criminal and Jumba was an old accomplice."

"Friendly cousin? Neighbour with a beard?"

+=+

"Surely the teacher won't notice I was late if he doesn't see me come in!" Claire narrated sarcastically.

+=+

"I'm sorry, Scrump!" Mary wailed, as Lilo ran back to retrieve the doll she'd angrily thrown aside.

+=+

"Let me illuminate to you the precarious situation in which you have found yourself. I am the one they call when things go wrong. And things have indeed gone wrong."

"As a cook, that kitchen horrifies me," said Jim.

+=+

"If you promise not to fight anymore, I promise not to yell at you – except on special occasions."

"Tuesdays and bank holidays would be good."

The entire group cracked up.

"How does kid Lilo's age even know what a bank holiday is?" said Claire. "I don't even know what a bank holiday is!"

"Maybe she saw it printed on a calendar?" said Toby.

+=+

A raindrop fell on Stitch's head. He fired his ray gun into the sky. It started raining, hard.

"Oh, no, I broke the sky!" Darci cried.

+=+

"Does it have to be this dog?"

"He survived getting hit by a truck, how much more sturdy and not-gonna-die do you want?" asked Jim.

"Yes. He's good. I can tell."

+=+

"I'm sorry I bit you. And pulled your hair. And punched you in the face."

Mary nudged Claire. "Remind you of anyone?"

Like sunflowers, everyone else popped up and turned towards them.

Claire blushed. "We got into a fight in first grade and for like two days we decided we didn't want to be friends anymore, then our moms made us say sorry."

"He will be irresistibly drawn to large cities, where he will back up sewers, reverse street signs, and steal everyone's left shoe."

"It's weird they get in trouble for everything but this," commented Enrique. "Human grown ups might not believe a dog stole a trike, but wouldn't they think Lilo did it? She's fought the other kid before."

"It's nice to live on an island with no large cities."

+=+

"It's not an angel, Lilo, I don't even think it's a dog!"

"Isn't that the rolling thing Draal can do?" said Toby.

"Yeah, more or less," said Jim. "I mean, I don't think Draal bites his feet – but maybe that's the trick."

"At least with those stick legs you've got," said Enrique. He curled into a ball and rolled in a circle around the group. "Face it, you're out of proportion for this move."

+=+

"626 was designed to be a monster. But now, there is nothing to destroy. You see, I never gave him a greater purpose. What must it be like, to have nothing? Not even memories to visit, in the middle of the night?"

"Now, this next bit I don't care for," said Jim. "The Ugly Duckling is a messed-up story."

"What've you got against The Ugly Duckling?" asked Mary.

"The blatant segregationist propaganda? 'A swan will never fit in with ducks and everyone is better off sticking with their own kind'. You don't even have to read it as a race metaphor. Between that and The Little Mermaid, I thought for while that Hans Christian Anderson was a Changeling writing cautionary tales about why we shouldn't get attached to humans."

"… Was he?" asked Claire.

"Probably not. I couldn't find any real evidence and the rest of his work doesn't match the pattern."

"Counterpoint," said Darci. "The Ugly Duckling is pro-integration. Everyone thought he was an ugly duckling because they didn't know what swans look like. If he'd grown up with ducks and swans around, they could've judged him for what he was instead of what he couldn't measure up to, and he might've had a happy childhood instead of only finding a community that accepted him as an adult."

Jim considered this, and nodded. "I guess I can see that, too."

+=+

"Heard you lost your job."

"Well, uh, actually, I just quit. That job. Because, you know, the hours are just not conducive to the challenges of raising a child –"

"Nani, no!" Jim begged. "I know almost nothing about Social Services but I'm pretty sure choosing to leave your only source of income looks worse to them than just losing it!"

"Thus far you have been adrift in the sheltered harbour of my patience; but I cannot ignore you being jobless. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly."

"And next time I see this dog, I expect it to be a model citizen. Capiche?"

"Uh … yes?"

"New job. Model citizen. Good day."

+=+

"So, we saw Cobra on the beach after all the tourists got scared off … D'you think he was just standing there watching them the whole time?" Mary wondered out loud after the surfing sequence.

+=+

"Until we meet again …"

Lilo was about to tell Stitch about her parents. Without thinking, Jim grabbed the remote – on the coffee table, next to the amulet – to fast forward.

"What are you doing?" Darci cried. "This is one of the big emotional turning points of the film!"

Jim paused it. "Sorry. Uh … Tobes and I usually skip this scene."

"I think I can handle it," Toby assured Jim. To the girls and Enrique, he explained, "My parents died in a storm when I was two. A cruise ship, not a car accident. I got kind of upset the first time we watched this as kids, and, we got in the habit fast forwarding this part. I think I'm okay with it now."

"You're sure?" asked Jim.

"I'm sure."

"Okay …" He rewound to the point where he'd started fast forwarding.

"That's us before. It was rainy, and they went for a drive. What happened to yours?"

Jim watched Toby more than the movie for the next few minutes.

"I'll remember you, though. I remember everyone that leaves."

"Do you remember them?" Claire asked quietly.

"Only the stuff Nana tells me." Toby shrugged, and readjusted the cushions he'd propped up his arms on. "I've seen lots of pictures. A couple home movies."

+=+

"Don't run. Don't make me shoot you. You were expensive. Yes, yes, that's it, come quietly."

"I'm … waiting."

"For what?"

"Family."

"Ah. You don't have one. I made you."

"Maybe … I could –"

"You were built to destroy. You can never belong."

Jim blinked fast to keep the tears back. He sniffed, and pulled the blankets more tightly around him.

+=+

"Okay, talk! I know you had something to do with this, now where's Lilo? Talk! I know you can."

"Claire?" said Mary. "You okay?"

Jim looked over. Claire's jaw was clenched, and her hands were tight on the blanket, and her eyes were huge and fixed on the screen, and she was shaking.

"Ah … maybe the little sib getting snatched by otherworldly forces wasn't the best movie choice," Enrique said. He reached out like he was about to go to Claire, then pulled back his hand and hunkered down where he was.

"LILO! She's a little girl this big, she has black hair and brown eyes, and she hangs around with that THING!"

"I'm. Fine," Claire insisted.

"You're sure?"

"We can just fast forward."

"I said I'm fine!"

"Okay …"

Mary and Darci each scooted their blanket and cushion piles closer to Claire's, bracketing her on either side. Jim tactfully retreated to the Nuñezes kitchen to microwave a few more bags of popcorn. Enrique went with him. They could still hear the TV.

"What? After all you put me through, you expect me to help you just like that? Just like that?!"

"Ih."

"Fine."

"Fine? You're doing what he says?"

"Ah, he is very persuasive."

"Is it normal to feel bad for her?" Enrique asked.

"I think so? It's an awkward situation for both of you." Jim selected the white cheddar flavour. "But it's not like there's an alternative. You're not a polymorph. And really, the only reason she's upset is because she found out."

The Nuñezes had the same microwave as the Lakes. Jim didn't find the popcorn setting especially useful for this brand of popcorn – it tended to burn a third of the kernels– so he used the timer instead.

"I never apologized to you for that, did I?" Jim asked.

"It wasn't all your fault."

"Still, I'm sorry for my part in getting you caught."

The Changelings got back to the living room in time to see the unfortunate tourist lose his ice cream for the third time.

+=+

"Does Stitch have to go in the ship?"

"Yes."

"Can Stitch say goodbye?"

"… Yes."

Like he always did during this scene, Jim cried. He let himself do it this time.

+=+

"Wait, how is Little Mermaid a cautionary tale?" asked Enrique during the credits. The camera panned over a photo of Stitch reading to a flock of ducklings. "For getting attached, I mean. I thought the moral of that one was to control yer temper and be careful who you made deals with?"

"Sure, the Disney version," said Jim. "They adapted it to make a more dramatic, less depressing story. And give the characters names. In the older version, the sea witch is actually a neutral character. The terms of the mermaid's transformation are that she's traded her tongue for legs, but walking on land hurts, and she'll become fully human if the prince marries her, but if he marries anybody else, she'll die."

"That doesn't sound neutral."

"Wait for it. The prince gets engaged to a human princess, so the mermaid's older sisters trade their hair to the sea witch for a magic knife and a loophole; if the little mermaid kills the prince before the wedding, she can turn back into a mermaid and survive."

"Kay, I see it now."

"Except she doesn't go through with the kill, so she dies, and because she wasn't really human, she doesn't have a proper soul, so her spirit's not allowed to go to Heaven."

"… Whoa."

"I know, right?"

"I mean," Mary commented, "not murdering somebody is kind of a low bar for moral decency. It's not as if the prince owed her anything just because she was attracted to him."

"No, no, whether the prince deserved to die or not is irrelevant," said Jim. "The point is that the mermaid had a chance to, objectively, trade one life for another, and because she was attached to the particular person she'd have to kill, she didn't prioritize her own survival, and therefore suffered."

"Wouldn't the guilt of murder have caused suffering anyway?" Toby pointed out.

"Not if she wasn't attached," Jim insisted. How were they not getting this? "If she could've just cut the throat of any random human, she'd've been fine. The moral of the story is that caring about people causes pain. That's what makes it depressing."

"Do you like any fairy tales?" asked Darci.

"Sure. Just not most of Anderson's work."

"What should we watch next?" said Claire hospitably. "If we're on a 'sister movies' theme, I've got Frozen."

"Isn't that one also based on an Anderson fairy tale?" said Mary.

"Not really," said Jim. "The Snow Queen was more 'inspiration' than 'source material'. Elsa never kidnaps anyone, and they left out the broken enchanted mirror. Plus it's fun to see all the different ways humans think trolls are like."

"We also have the Trolls movie," said Claire. "I haven't watched it yet. My dad got it for Mom's birthday because she used to collect the dolls."

"I haven't seen that one yet, either," Darci commented.

"Should we?" said Mary. "Any other votes?"

"I'm game for whatever," said Toby. "This one's a musical, right? Those are always fun."

Jim squirmed.

He hadn't watched this movie despite his curiosity, after an online clip of the opening had explained the premise. Getting eaten alive was his greatest fear. Did he want to watch a movie about trolls narrowly avoiding being eaten? Did he want to explain why he didn't want to watch it?

While he debated, the movie got put in.

"Once upon a time, in a happy forest, in the happiest tree, lived the happiest creatures the world has ever known: the trolls. They loved nothing more than to sing, and dance, and hug, and dance and hug and sing and dance and sing and hug –"

Enrique started laughing.

Oh, shit, Jim hadn't warned him.

"Uh, Enrique –"

"Ssh! This is ridiculous. I mean, the huggy bit's kind of like you, but the rest of it – ha!"

"But then one day, the trolls were discovered by – a Bergen!"

"The trolls are gonna –"

"Ji-im! Spoilers!" Toby hissed.

"They were the most miserable creatures in all the land."

Jim grabbed Enrique and covered his eyes. The smaller Changeling yelped and squirmed. Jim switched forms so his fingers wouldn't bleed from the clawing.

Enrique got his eyes uncovered just in time to see the Bergen flick a troll into its mouth.

The onscreen troll's exclamation of "Oh my god!" was drowned out by Enrique's much more lurid cursing.

"What the –?" The girls and Toby all turned to stare. Claire pointed at Enrique accusingly. "I knew that didn't mean 'I'm sorry'!"

"The hell kinda movie is this?! Why would you watch this?!" He twisted to look at Jim, who let go of him rather than risk yanking his scruff by accident. "You knew?!"

"I saw a bit of it on the internet when it first came out. That's why I froze up when Claire suggested it."

That … that was the wrong thing to say. Enrique rounded on Claire. A techno-rock cover of In The Hall Of The Mountain King boomed from the movie soundtrack.

"Why in FUCK'S NAME would you think we'd WANT to watch trolls get EATEN? Is this some kind of threat?"

"How the fuck would it be a threat?" Claire shot back, stealing some cushions from Mary to prop herself up taller without getting out of her blanket cocoon.

"Most Changelings –" Jim started to say.

"DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I'VE ALMOST BEEN EATEN?" Enrique roared. "I DON'T! CAUSE IT'S A LOT!"

"We've all had close calls," Jim finished. "Nyarlagroths, Hellheetis, goblins if you catch them in the wrong mood, Gruesomes if you're already hurt, Stalklings, and it's a … popular threat from Gumm-Gumms."

"You forgot the sloorbeasts," said Enrique bitterly.

"Nobody's gotten lichen patches that bad." At least, they hadn't when Jim got out. "Have they?"

"Still counts."

"Uh, excuse me." Toby raised his hand. "I think I speak for us all when I say, what?"

"The Darklands are a hostile environment with predators and scavengers," explained Jim. "That's the other reason we slept in groups."

"Bigger targets, but we could have lookouts."

"Okay, that's its own kind of horrifying, but I was more reacting to the cannibalism?"

"Changelings don't count as real trolls," Enrique said sarcastically. "We're Impure."

He left out the part where they'd eaten their own dead. Jim didn't add it.

(It wasn't like they'd hunted each other for food. Sometimes a Changeling just died, somehow, in a way that didn't get them eaten by something else, and … well, food was scarce in the Darklands. They couldn't afford to be picky.

It also paid to keep watch over the sentry posts. Gunmar occasionally used the Decimaar Blade to post a sentry and then forgot to order them to rest and eat. Once they died, the average adult Gumm-Gumm was a meal for twenty Changelings, easily, if they could get to the body before the Gruesomes did.)

"Okay, we're switching to Frozen." Mary made the executive decision. "Wait," she said, while exchanging the disks. "If Changelings aren't trolls, how does Jim's adoption work?"

Because of course this was the perfect moment to tell Enrique about that, right in the middle of a squabble with his adopted sister.

"For one thing, most of Trollmarket still thinks I'm human." Jim switched back to human shape to illustrate the point.

"You got adopted?"

"AAARRRGGHH and Blinky thought I should have legal standing in Trollmarket outside of my job."

Enrique stared at him. Green diamond-shaped ears were pinned back. Buggy, slit-pupil eyes were wide and hurt.

"You get everything," he grumbled. "Two nicknames, and the goblins liked you, and you could always find food, and here you're the boss's favourite even when you're a traitor, and your human family still likes you, and now you get a troll family too? S'not fair."

"Hey, the goblins liked you, too." Jim was fully aware that wasn't much comfort compared to all the rest of it. "They gave you your nickname, remember?"

"They gave you one, too."

"Yeah, but you got yours first."

They probably weren't supposed to hear Darci when she muttered, "I feel like we're missing a lot of context."

"Shit," Claire muttered back. "Not Enrique told me a bit of the name part. They don't remember their names from before they were Changelings, and they don't get real names until they have Familiars, so they use nicknames instead. From each other or from goblins, he said."

"They don't get names?" Darci's voice went squeaky at the end of that.

"We're trying to come up with something other than 'Enrique' for him."

"You're trying," Enrique corrected. Darci squeaked again.

"Can we maybe circle back to the cannibalism thing?" said Toby. "That feels like the kind of trauma that should get unpacked at some point."

"I would rather leave it packed," said Jim.

"The way you blurted it out like that feels like you need to talk about it."

"Not all psychology is Freudian, Tobes."

"Do your parents still have baby name books from when they were picking Enrique's name?" Mary asked Claire. "Real Enrique, I mean."

"They didn't use one. He was named after our abuelo."

"Okay, so what about your other grandfather? What was his name?"

"Jose María." Defensively, "It's gender neutral in Spanish."

On the television screen, the movie menu finished another loop and started again.

"I tried spelling my name like it sounds, en are ee kay, but Claire said it spelled 'Nrek'. You get why I couldn't use that."

Jim laughed.

"What's funny?" asked Toby. "Is that an insult or something?"

"No, it's goblin, in English it means 'bottle'," Jim translated. "Or possibly 'container of food'." The only bottles he's seen them use held formula for the Familiars, and the word hadn't come up on the surface, so the distinction was unclear. "It's either a silly name or a really morbid one."

"Aaand we're back to the cannibalism."

"No we are not!"

"Na na na heyana, Hahiyaha naha …"

Either somebody had decided to start the movie, or the DVD had that feature where it automatically began playing if nothing was selected after a few loops of the menu.

The conversation went in circles a couple more times, then faded out.

+=+

"And who's the funky-looking donkey over there?"

"That's Sven."

"Uh-huh; and who's the reindeer?"

"… Sven."

"Oh, they're – ? Oh! Okay! Makes things easier for me."

"~Riot~," said Enrique.

"Huh?"

"My nickname. Before. It meant 'riot'."

What are you doing? Jim wanted to demand. Was Enrique just – just giving up on a real name?

"You can call me that for now. Till we work out a for-real one. Better than 'Not Enrique'."

Jim stuffed some burnt popcorn kernels into his mouth to keep from protesting. He couldn't undermine Enrique's – Riot's – chosen name, right in front of a bunch of humans, when he'd been arguing with them about how rude that was for weeks now.

"Oh. Okay." Claire half-smiled. "Riot."

Jim shut his eyes to hide the flaring glow.

+=+

Previous Chapter (Angor Rot gets treated much better, and more sensibly, than in canon, and is correspondingly less vengeful)

Table of Contents 

Next Chapter (Featuring either Otto or Gatto)

A quick thank you to Taycin on AO3 for providing some name-gender context when this chapter first went up.

[thecagedsong]

Chapter 12: Home 

Hello Friends,

It looks like you’re cleverer than the Sphinx said you were. Good for you. You’ve set back my timeline, and not many can claim that particular feat, congratulations. Now it’s time to focus on Kendra, how to make the best use of her? So many ideas, none of them involve negotiating with light-lovers.

Until we clash again.

The lemonade had been yummy with just the right amount of sour. It was a shame their ball had knocked the pitcher to the ground. Seth had fumbled Tess’s pass, thinking about Ronodin’s note in the barrel. It had been in the barrel when they finally set down after leaving Wyrmroost. Now Seth was letting it distract him from distracting his cousins. The distraction wasn’t even worth it, as he still hadn’t found anything in the note that he could use that they hadn’t already thought of before now.

“Should we clean that up?” Seth asked. Knox hopped out of the pool to grab the ball, set the pitcher right, and jumped back in.

“Nahh, I just dripped a bunch of water on it, and what else are we going to do?” he replied. “Come on, another round.”

Dale had been able to construct a small basketball hoop while they were gone, but it was too short for anyone but Tess on dry land. Seth had suggested putting it over the pool, and it was much more challenging. It was Tess and Seth v Knox, and Knox was winning 6-3.

“Last point,” Seth said, “Then I want to grab something to eat.”

Tess grinned at Seth as Knox checked him the ball. He sent it back.

“Super secret surprise attack!” Tess yelled, jumping on her brother’s shoulders. With a whole lot of squirming, Seth managed to steal the ball from Knox, who kept crying “foul!” and made the final point.

“You cheaters,” he said, holding Tess up by the arm. She grinned.

Seth dunked himself in the pool one last time to cool off, then got out. “You won the game, that last point didn’t matter anyway.”

They got out and dried off, Knox collecting his basketball. Just as they were about to leave the pool area, Knox turned around and made a longshot.

“Nothing but net,” he said, pumping a fist. It was pretty cool, but Seth wasn’t going to let Knox know that.

“You have to get it now,” he pointed out.

“Worth it.”

Grandma Larsen made sandwiches for lunch. With the secret out, they decided to just live together in the main house. There was enough rooms, especially with Tess and Knox sharing the attic. This was the first time Seth was at Fablehaven and not staying there, but three was kind of a crowd, and he was a little proud that his Grandparents knew he didn’t need the protections of the attic anymore.

Or maybe they just thought he’d ruin the protections with his spotty record. Anyway, he was fine with the arrangement.

Tess went immediately to the Journal of Secrets after drying off and brought it to the lunch table. Grandma Larsen whisked it off the table as she set lunch down, citing that Kendra wouldn’t want sticky fingers over her journal.

“Any news from Agad?” Seth asked as the Sorensons came down for lunch.

Grandma Sorenson shook her head, “Your possible teachers are very limited. The Sphinx would have been ideal if, surprise, he hadn’t turned on us once again. This is the hard part, but we’ve been here before.”

“What about rumors of a Nova Song?” Seth asked, “Maddox know anything?”

“Just that he’d give an arm and a leg for one,” Grandpa Sorenson said, shaking his head. “He’s looking too, Seth.”

“Dale, Hugo, Hank and I made a lot of progress on the stables for flying mounts. Tomorrow I was planning on going into town for some more literature and games to populate them with and keep our Luvian friends entertained,” Grandma Larsen offered. “Anyone interested in coming with me?”

“Will there be ice cream?” Tess asked.

Grandma Larsen pretended to think about it, “I suppose. It’s going to be a lot of stuff to carry, my helpers should be rewarded.”

“Can I invite one of my fairy friends?” Tess asked, getting excited.

Grandma Larsen shook her head, “I’m sorry sweetie, but the magical creatures can’t leave the preserve.” Tess opened her mouth to argue, “Even if they promise to come right back. It’s an important part of the treaty. We can also pick up some new seeds though, for your friends that like flowers.”

“Okay!” Tess said, “I’m going to go tell them right now!” Tess ran into the garden, passing Tanu as he entered.

“Sorry!” Tess called, racing past.

“Welcome Tanu, were you and Hugo able to find what you were looking for?” Grandma Sorenson asked.

“I found a good tract of land for an Oak grove,” Tanu said, “It’s a little hard to tell exactly what breed of oak tree the seeds are, or the requirements for living wood, but the more humid climate near the marsh should accommodate most varieties. With the help of some fairies, the grove will be set up in a couple of years. We have ten seeds, and to plant them all, we’ll need a bit wider space than currently available. I was hoping to take Seth this afternoon to negotiate with the Hag.”

“Sure,” Seth said. “Anything. Lowly Vatka was pretty cool. You’ll need to ask Tess about the fairies though.”

“Better take Hank with you,” Grandma Larsen said, “The caretaker has the right to visit once a year, and on demand. He’ll be back in half an hour or so.”

“I can come,” Knox said casually. “Help plant the trees.”

The grandparents exchanged a look, and Seth knew exactly what was coming. Weird that it wasn’t directed at him for once.

“Knox,” Gloria said, “The hag is most certainly one of the more dangerous creatures on the preserve. Her favorite pastime is lay false trails that send people drowning. And she’s old, she won’t take kindly to visitors, or our request to grow a forest on the edge of her land.”

“Anything Seth can do, so can I,” Knox said, puffing out his chest. “I was fine at Wyrmroost.” He turned to Seth, “Especially with Grandpa Larsen along, we’ll be fine. Tell them.”

Seth shifted uncomfortably. Grandpa Sorenson raised an eyebrow. “Well, its not up to me,” Seth said, looking down at his plate. “Grandpa and Grandma Larsen are caretakers here.”

He was hedging, and everyone knew it.

“I don’t believe this. Am I grounded or something?” Knox asked.

“Well, you did sneak into the dungeons and land yourself in one of the seven most dangerous preserves in the world on a whim.” Grandpa Stan said, “We aren’t going to reward that behavior, if that’s what you’re wondering. And then, if I recall correctly, you convinced two satyrs to take yourself and your 9-year-old sister across said preserve, using an untested magic item, again, without permission from either the caretakers or us, after the dragons had declared war on all mortal kind and your cousins especially.”

“But Seth did stuff like that when he was just starting out!” Knox protested.

The stares turned back to Seth, who groaned, “Yeah, and I was grounded to the yard tons of times for that. I left out those parts, but your actions have consequences. No, we don’t blame you for Kendra’s kidnapping, but they can totally blame you for breaking their trust and sneaking into the barrel.”

Knox looked around, and saw that no one was going to budge. Grandma Larsen looked a little like she wanted to offer to have him go shopping with her and Tess tomorrow, but decided against it.

“Fine,” Knox said, standing up, “I’ll be in my room then. No one will have to worry about me going anywhere. Let’s make the grounding real.”

He stomped up the stairs.

“That was rude,” Seth accused. “Why did you guys let him make me the bad guy?”

“Just a check to see how much you’ve grown, and as I saw it, Knox would only have listened to you,” Tanu said with a chuckle. “Make sure you have a pair of galoshes before we go.”

The fieldtrip in Hugo’s cart went much smoother than Seth had expected it to. Probably because it felt like years since Seth went off to do a single task that didn’t derail itself halfway through. He knew it was all Kendra’s fault when that happened. Seth led them through the marsh, not tricked by the false trails. They negotiated the boundaries with Gintra through Seth speaking her language, promising her two goats and a kid and a new cloak in exchange for the necessary land.

Seth nearly choked when Grandpa Larsen offered to give her a kid, but Tanu whispered that all parties involved knew that meant a baby goat, and they went forward.

Hugo stopped a ways away from the house.

“Hugo?” Seth asked, leaning over his shoulder, “What’s up buddy?”

“New people coming,” Hugo rumbled. “Dragon.”

Seth shared a startled look with the others.

“I have my dragon fear potions right here,” Tanu said, patting his bag.

“A dragon is too big a threat to the treaty to ignore,” Grandpa Hank said, “Fablehaven’s boundaries aren’t meant to deal with the magic of dragons. Hugo, take us to the dragon.”

Hugo turned and started in a new direction. Grandpa and Tanu downed their potions grimly.

“Could it be a wild dragon?” Seth asked, “I mean, Wyrmroost is the nearest dragon sanctuary, and Agad said it was fine this morning. I know there were some dragons who agreed to live in peace outside the preserves.”

“It’s certainly possible,” Grandpa Larsen said, rubbing the stubble on his face. “Unlikely. While the dragons are able to communicate with each other between sanctuaries, they are supposed to be completely cut off from their free kin, that was a stipulation. But it’s supposed to be impossible that there’s a dragon here at all.”

Seth remembered Celebrant’s victorious, swiping claw. He’d been hoping for a little break from dragons. To go back to dealing with demons and the undead for a bit, before coming face to face with another dragon, but he could handle it.

Hugo was cutting cross country in the way only he could. They didn’t talk anymore.

“Huh?” Grandpa Larsen asked, “The Naiad pond?”

Seth focused, and realized they were, in fact, approaching the pond around the hedge. Was it a shortcut or…

“Raxtus!” Seth said, climbing up to look over Hugo’s shoulder.

“Who’s there?” called the dragon.

“It’s Fablehaven! Who do you think it is?” Seth called. Tanu pulled him down when the archway nearly took his head, but he just grinned and popped up again. Sure enough, Raxtus was standing on the lawn. A silvery white dragon, he was about the size of Charlemagne, but much longer in the tail and neck.

“Hey Seth,” the dragon said, “I brought something for you guys. Oh, um, hi,” Raxtus said, bowing his head when he noticed Grandpa and Tanu get off Hugo as well.

“Raxtus, this is my Grandpa Larsen, and I can’t remember if you’ve met Tanu,” Seth introduced, “Guys, meet Raxtus, son of Celebrant and literally the best dragon ever.”

“An interesting recommendation,” Grandpa Larsen said, bowing, “Please call me Hank. I’ve heard much about you from my grandchildren.”

Raxtus turned to Seth, his eyes sad, “Mizelle filled me in on what happened to Kendra. Kidnapped by Ronodin and lost her memory? I’m really worried for her.”

“We’re working on it,” Seth said, “I promise.”

“May I ask why you brought us a canoe?” Tanu asked. Seth finally noticed the wooden canoe behind Raxtus. It was long and had swirly painted red designs decorated the sides.

“Is it a clever boat?” Seth asked, getting excited.

Raxtus tilted his head, “What’s a clever boat? No this is —” suddenly Warren appeared in the boat, lying down. Seth scrambled forward and touched him.

“Seth?” Warren asked. He blinked and looked around, “Right, Fablehaven. Good pick Raxtus.”

Warren climbed out and stretched. A few moments later Vanessa appeared and Warren helped her up.

“Home sweet home,” Vanessa said, doing the same stretching as Warren.

“I bet you’re honestly surprised by how much you mean that,” Warren teased, nudging her shoulder.

She lightly punched him back, “You’ll be waiting a long time Burgess, if you’re waiting for me to go soft.”

“It is good to see you two safe and well,” Tanu said. Vanessa and Tanu gripped forearms, while Warren went for the hug.

“We managed to get a small foothold back in the Cresent Lagoon,” Warren said, “We’re here to make our official report and recruit what help we can.”

“Better wait until we’re in Stan’s office then,” Grandpa Larsen said. “We can head back, and Hugo can carry the canoe. Raxtus, will you accompany us?”

The dragon shook his head, “I’m kind of running between sanctuaries and trying to keep tabs of everyone and my ears open for Kendra. I’m going to say hi to my adoptive mom and then head back out.”

The headed back, and Warren pulled Seth towards the back of the group.

“Kendra’s kidnapped again,” Warren said.

“At least we didn’t have to have a funeral this time,” Seth said. “And I have it on pretty good authority that Ronodin wants Kendra alive.”

“How good?”

“Bracken’s sister.”

“Pretty good.”

They walked in silence a few minutes.

“I hate not being able to help her,” Warren admitted, clenching a fist. “I had to be where I was, but I can’t help but feel like if I was there, I could have changed something. It always feels like this when it comes to Kendra, I’ve gotten sickeningly used to it. Honestly, are you doing okay?”

Seth really thought about the answer. Warren let him.

“I broke down pretty bad when she was taken,” Seth admitted, stopping so the others went on ahead. “And now, I don’t know, it feels more like when she was off artifact hunting and I was stuck trying to figure out how to crash her adventure. I don’t know if it’s because I know she’s being kept near Bracken, or everything is just too much for me to think of it like anything else.

“I’m kinda scared it’s all going to hit me again, and I’m going to fall apart. But if I keep busy enough, maybe I’ll be able to find her first.”

Warren put a hand on his shoulder, “Thank you for being honest. You’re tough Seth, possibly the toughest kid out there, but tough kids and tough adults need breaks, time to just feel. If you think you’re going to break, or you need to break, let me know and I’ll make space and handle things until you’re ready again.”

Seth’s throat was too thick to speak, so he just nodded. As they approached the yard his voice came back.

“And if there’s anyone tougher than me, it’s Kendra,” Seth said. “We fought over who would turn the Key of Forgetting, but she wouldn’t let me. She wanted everyone to know that she loved them, you and Vanessa especially. Thought I should share the message.”

It was Warren’s turn to nod.

They reached the yard and Tess ran up, “Look Seth! The fairies taught me how to make a flower crown! They did special stuff so there are no loose ends! Put it on!”

Warren stepped up beside him, looking amused, and Tess went silent.

“Oh, who’s this?” Warren asked, crouching. “You make a great flower crown.”

Tess looked at the crown in her hands, then at Warren. She squealed and thrust the crown at him, then ran away.

“That’s Tess, little cousin on Mom’s side,” Seth said. “She’s fairy struck, and probably just developed a crush on you.”

“Well, that’s a backstory I’m dying to hear,” Warren put on the flower crown, and posed for Seth, “Does the red make my eyes pop?” he asked fluttering his lashes.

Seth laughed, and Warren wore the crown into the house.

They were in Grandpa’s study, and Warren and Vanessa hadn’t been missing out on adventure. Rampaging Triclops, magic pearls, and dragons to spare, all dependent on island spirits to keep them in line. Island spirits shaped like those big nosed stone heads.

“But most important,” Warren said, “We have reason to believe Ronodin corrupted a pool there.”

“Why would he do that?” Seth asked.

“We don’t know,” Vanessa said with a smile, “And while it is possible there is some significance to the pool that the caretaker is unaware of, it is also likely that his work is not done.”

“Which means he might be back,” Seth said, getting excited, “Or we might find one of the caves to the Underking’s domain nearby.”

There was a sudden ringing sound, and Grandpa Sorenson fished out a cell phone. “Agad, yes, Warren and Vanessa just caught us up. We were about to start brainstorming solutions on our end. Tanu is ready to head out again, and we were trying to figure out who else to send.”

Grandpa froze, then nodded. “Why am I entirely unsurprised? Anything on Kendra?”

It was frustrating to sit there, and not be able to hear everything. He wasn’t the only one. Vanessa and Warren were gripping hands, his grandmothers both looked tense, and Grandpa Larsen was swirling his glass.

“Okay Agad, I’ll let them know.”

Grandpa Sorenson sighed, “I won’t hold you in suspense. Talizar’s den is at the Crescent Lagoon. Seth, you mentioned that this demon approached you in a dream scape. Do you think you could negotiate with him into learning more about your abilities without making things worse?”

He thought back to Talizar. Both himself and Kendra’s demon friend vouched that he hated dragons more than enough to want Seth to win the war against the dragons. He seemed fairly neutral on Seth’s demise, and hurting people in general. It would stink that Talizar was right, and Seth would seek him out in the real world, but that wasn’t enough of a reason not to do it.

He would need to be fully trained to use Lady Luck, or sneak into the Underking’s domain. Talizar had made some pretty big promises. With a plan and some help, and now that he wasn’t in a vulnerable place like the dreamscape, he might be able to walk away from this experience. He had four months by Mizelle’s deadline.

“I don’t want to make a mistake like I did with Granulas,” Seth said. “Talizar didn’t seem so bad, but neither did Granulas. I think I could work something out, but I’m also going to be missing something, or I’ll trust him and I’ll get someone else killed.”

“If it is a matter of trusting your judgement,” Vanessa said, “That needs to be dealt with now. I have seen second guessing kill too many allies. You need to learn that trust can be pieced apart. That is necessary in interacting with demons. You may trust that you have a similar goal. You do not trust them as you would another human. You do not trust them with things you care about. If you can’t piece apart the trust needed to learn from everything else, then you should not be attempting to negotiate with a demon at all, and we will find another way.”

Could he do it? Life had taught him the answer to that question.

“I can do anything if it means helping Kendra,” Seth said, resolved. “With some help to make sure I’m not leaving any loopholes, I can handle Talizar.”

“I believe that I will be an asset, in that case,” Grandma Larsen said, “Like Vanessa, I spent years working with the Society of the Evening Star, I second what she has said about coming out of a deal with a demon, and have much to add besides. While tracking Ronodin and attempting to retake the preserve, my goal will be to keep Seth safe. Is that satisfactory?”

Grandpa Sorenson eyed her suspiciously, “Why do I feel like this is how you claim full ownership of the Sombrosa Swords?”

Grandma Larsen shook her head, “Stan, we both know darn well I should have been their owner back in 83’. If it takes a mission protecting our grandson for your pride to finally hand them over, well, that’s on your conscious.”

“I had you pinned,” Grandpa Sorenson retorted, “the ref would have finished counting if the umbrakas hadn’t gotten loose!”

Grandma Sorenson put a hand to her head, “Stan, just give her the swords. They haven’t been much use hanging in our bedroom. We’ll be the nice, diplomatic grandparents.”

“With crossbows,” Warren added.

Grandma Sorenson smiled as his help, “Yes, with crossbows and broadswords and leadership positions. They can be the secret agent grandparents with butterfly dao, rapiers, and masks.”

“So…Seth, Vanessa, Tanu, Gloria, and I should be getting back to Crescent Lagoon?” Warren checked.

“Dress for warm weather,” Vanessa advised.

A/N: Shorter chapter for Seth, finally. I love the boy, but he has been hogging the action so far. Mostly set up, some comeuppance, some favs, lots of character. Chapter thirteen is the chapter I’ve been dying to post though, easily one of my favorites. Look for that one, cause Kendra gets to see someone besides Ronodin!

[cockasinthebird]

419 please?

I hope 26 is grown up enough for you!❤️

419. “Spend the night with me?”

Thank you so so much for requesting a mystery prompt, and celebrating my 500 followers with me!!! I am so happy that people are wanting to participate in this! And I hope that this is to your liking 💕

It got long, as in, 5.8k long, which was not at all my intention, but when inspiration strikes, go with the flow, right?? So here we are! Enjoy~

--

They had kept in touch over the years. Or at least tried, although it did become near impossible to find time to chat after graduation.

Billy went off to college and afterward started his own quite successful workshop, where he with a charming smile and abundance of personality has wormed his way into high society, and old women’s lust for young and rowdy guys covered in oil and tats as they fix their expensive porches - shirts not included.

And Steve moved to Chicago to begin his “training” as an heir to the Harrington Construction empire, where his current title as COO is simply a pretty facade, as his role is nothing more than to put up appearances and give orders originally from his father’s lip.

  Today’s headache comes from a stack of papers towering like a city on top of Steve’s desk. He flips through page after page after page of permits and legal shit, trying to understand what any of it means; if he’s to ever take over as president of this company, he must know what a “nonconforming structure” is, and learn to read a site map.

Thankfully he gets interrupted when the intercom dings, and his secretary speaks; “Mr Harrington, there’s someone on line two for you. Says he’s an old friend.”

It’s kind of weird how he just immediately knows who it is, and it brings forth a deep and exasperated sigh. He rubs his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose as he gathers up energy, before reaching for the button that allows him to say, “Thank you Claire, you can go home for the night.”

Out the window he has a gorgeous view of the cityscape, drenched in black and dotted with night lights, proving to him that it is far later than he anticipated.

He then brings up the handset and, in a company approved tone, says, “Harrington Construction, this is Steve Harrington.”

“You’re a hard man to get to, Stevie,” a voice that sets his soul aflame drawls out every single syllable.

Steve’s heart beats a bit faster, a bit wrong, at the thick tone of his high school “sweetheart”. The “one that got away,” and all that painful jazz they make movies out of.

“Hey Billy,” he sighs and thuds his head against the back of his expensive leather chair.

“Don’t sound so excited now, princess,” the grin on Billy’s face all too apparent in his tone.

To think, 8 years has passed since he called Steve “princess” for the first time, and even at the ripe age of 26 he keeps up the same old front. Yet it still makes Steve blush all the same, a curse or a blessing, that depends entirely on who you ask. Some things never change.

“What do you want?” he grumbles, sounding just like his father, and that realization makes him sick enough to call a doctor, or a therapist, either one is good for him.

“Woah, bad timing?” 

“No…” Another of a thousand sighs escapes. “No, just… work, you know how it is.”

“Actually I do!” and Billy sounds all too chipper for Steve’s taste in energy levels right now. “I’m in Chicago this week for a fancy car show downtown; going to schmooze with some rich folks to get sponsors for my shop in Cincinnati.”

“Oh yeah, you mentioned that some time ago, I completely forgot.” Steve peers at the haunting sight of papers stacked nearly as tall as himself. He’s been too busy lately and forgets all too much. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, I’m sure your work is way more stressful than mine.” Billy has become more forgiving with age, and it is something to get used to. “You busy now?”

Steve takes a second to respond, stares at the papers on his desk in hopes they’ll catch fire, but settles for a more realistic solution, and spins around in his chair for as long as the wire of the phone allows, till he can’t see his obligations any more.

“Nope, I’m free, what’s up?”

 -

He should have expected this. 

Sure Billy spends his days flexing in front of the rich ladies whose Wall Street husbands give all their attention to their secretaries and assistants, where he no doubt has grown accustomed to champagne, scotch, and what else these lonely housewives might bring him as a “thank you”, but he still manages to choose one of the seedier bars in all of Chicago, Illinois. Some things never change.

Low ceiling, even for a basement, half-circle booths in dark leather, a bar that can maybe fit 7 people, and walls decorated in probably stolen road signs. It reeks of sweat and cheap beer, successfully assaulting Steve’s senses.

He definitely doesn’t fit in, sticks out like a sore thumb immediately in his custom tailored suit and tie that draws everyone’s attention to him, staring like he just insulted their mothers. 

“Hey! Harrington!” Billy calls out, barely audible over the old school rock music, and all Steve sees is his hand waving in the air near the back where the lights can’t quite reach.

Being raised proper like he was, by the hand of babysitters and maids, Steve apologizes the entire trip from the front door to the last booth, as he pushes his way through the more sleazy and possibly dangerous looking crowd. He wouldn’t stand a chance if even one drop was spilled on any of these men’s shirts.

When he sees Billy his heart does the same dance as it did last they saw each other, years ago at the kid’s graduation, where they got drunk and reminisced about “the way things used to be”, about the way they used to be, and being reminded of that now makes it a bit hotter under his white collar.

Billy’s slumped against the seat, arms full of tattoos and spread across the back of the booth, legs as wide apart as the skinny jeans will allow. Some things never change. But he has. He’s gotten thicker, more muscular, which is awfully apparent in the way his white tee hugs his torso. His hair is longer, curlier too somehow, but still it’s good to see he kept the mullet. Oh but that wicked grin carries the same charm that led Steve into the lion’s den way back when.

“Good to see you could find the place,” Billy says and gives Steve a very obvious once over, taking in how sharply dressed he is, smoothly shaved, hair short and slicked back.

He doesn’t move further in to allow for any room, hogging all the space except for a bit at the end where Steve won’t be able to sit without them being inappropriately close in such a public setting.

“My driver knows his way around, thankfully.”

Steve unbuttons his jacket and takes a chance; sits down and hopes that Billy will move once he sees that Steve isn’t afraid to push boundaries anymore, isn’t afraid to challenge the retired Keg King.

But he doesn’t move - stays firm in his placement on the seat, planted even, biting his tongue as their thighs press together.

“Still living on daddy’s dime, huh?” 

“Kinda hard not to since I work for him,” Steve laughs.

Even through the fog of alcohol and cigarettes, he can smell Billy’s strong cologne, and it triggers something in him he hasn’t felt in damn near two years. Some things never change.

“Ah yes, good ol’ nepotism,” Billy chuckles, low and gravely, eyes staring too long at Steve’s lips before going up to meet his gaze.

“It’s a family business, a dynasty if you were to ask my father, so it is only to be expected,” Steve says with a smile, exhausted in a sense that is all too clear despite the low lighting.

“Mhm, sure, listen,” Billy mumbles out with disinterest, then leans in closer - not that there was much space between them to begin with. “I didn’t ask you here to talk about work or your father, if I cared for that I’d have simply called.”

Billy hadn’t called in close to half a year before today.

Steve hasn’t called in over half a year.

Neither had bothered finding time to “hang out” in two years, both had tried to move on from their past, yet they’re here now, together, and maybe Billy is tired of trying to forget, and maybe Steve is willing to remember.

“Then why did you ask for us to meet here?” Steve whispers, certain that Billy can hear him, and the way his eyes go dark beneath heavy lids proves he’s right.

And Billy licks his lips before pulling the lower one in to bite at it suggestively. “I think you know exactly why.”

His hand brushes against Steve’s neck, sending a ripple of goosebumps across his skin, his entire body perking up at such a simple and gentle touch. Steve can’t look away from those deep pools of desire, won’t even try, honestly.

He takes a stuttering breath before saying, “Not getting enough from your aged clients?”

Billy huffs a laugh and smiles rather than grins at that. “Come on, Stevie, you know me better than that, don’t you?”

“Do I?” the response quick through a teasing smirk.

“You should. I don’t sleep around with married people - their sons and daughters, however…” he trails off, well aware that Steve understands, but Billy isn’t exactly subtle, ever.

“Is that all I am to you?” Steve coos and pushes his knee against Billy’s. “Some rich married man’s son?”

“Is that all you want to be to me?” Billy moves in to ghost his breath across Steve’s lips.

“Billy…” Steve whispers cautiously.

“Don’t worry, pretty boy, it’s a gay bar, no one here will mind…”

And perhaps that’s why people stared at him like that when he came in… or at least some of them.

Steve’s hand rushes up to feel the slight stubble of Billy’s jaw as he kisses him with such eagerness that only grows from missing another person this much, a touch that Steve didn’t know he had been craving so bad till he walked into the room.

Billy’s tongue dives in as he pushes to deepen their kiss, a hand on the back of Steve’s head to pull him closer, proving just how needy Billy is as well for this, as if there’s nothing else he could want for in the world but the taste of Steve’s mouth.

And it makes him breathless, lungs wanting air but lips wanting to touch. When Billy pulls away Steve tries to move along, to stay connected like that, but Billy dodges every attempt, to groan out,

“Spend the night with me?”

Steve can’t help but laugh, gaining him a rather inquisitive look from Billy. “Why didn’t you just ask me to your hotel room right away?”

“Well I thought you’d be more likely to agree to go to a bar with me than my room!” Billy can’t help but laugh, too. 

“You’re not even gonna buy me a drink first then?” 

“Oh baby,” Billy purrs and nuzzles his nose against Steve’s neck, kissing him softly and dearly. “You can order all the room service you want at my hotel - wine, champagne, scotch, vodka, if that’s what you want.”

“Mmh,” Steve hums and tips his head aside to allow Billy better access. “Are you sure you can afford my expensive tastes?”

Billy reaches forth to loosen Steve’s tie and frees the first button of his shirt. “I’ll write it off as a business expense, anything for my princess.”

“Fuck,” Steve lets out a breathy moan as those words shoot straight through him; jolting his heart and waking his dick. Some things never change. “Then what are we waiting for?”

 -

Maybe it’s because he grew up with old money, a house full of expensive and dark furniture, ornate and vintage, but the hotel is not what he expected.

It’s so… modern, with white furniture, large windows, and polished metal. It all looks impeccably clean.

The couch faces a large fireplace, a TV mounted in the wall above, glass tables on either side of the armrests, and behind the seating is a set of glass doors that open into the bedroom that holds a king sized bed with no doubt real silk sheets, and an en suite bathroom. It’s a small and generally scarcely decorated hotel room, a plant over in the corner to bring some color, a pretentious painting with only a streak of red, but it’s upscale and no doubt rather expensive.

And the trust fund kid in Steve wonders how the hell Billy can afford all of this and room service, but he’s not going to ask nor complain. Pretend he’s on an all paid trip where he can do whatever he wants, far far away from his father and his duties. Even if it is just for one night, he can relax and enjoy himself; leave his baggage at the door.

“It’s paid for by one of my ‘sponsors’,” Billy says while taking Steve’s jacket off.

“What?” 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you looking around thinking ‘How the hell can Billy Hargrove afford all of this?’” Thankfully Billy doesn’t sound offended by the notion that he’s still just a poor man.

“And who is your sponsor that allows you to live so lavishly?” Steve turns to Billy with a smile, who offers a smirk rather wide.

“Mrs. Howard.”

“Ah,” Steve huffs as if it was what to be expected.

“Yeah, ah,” Billy mocks him and brings his hands to the Armani belt, unbuckling it and smoothly slips it through the loops of Steve’s dress pants. 

Steve toes his way out of his shiny oxford shoes as Billy expertly unbuttons his shirt, only to find a tee beneath, and he expresses his irritation with a clear groan.

“Why do all you suit monkeys always wear a shirt beneath your shirt?” he complains lightly yet shoves rather hard for the button up to fall past Steve’s shoulders.

“I don’t know if you know, but white fabric is often rather sheer, and I’m not a fan of my subordinates seeing, well, more than they should,” Steve explains rather matter-of-fact, but doubts that Billy actually cares for the reason of it.

Instead he throws off his own tee before pulling at Steve’s, caring for something far more carnal as is evident in the way he goes to kiss and bite up and down Steve’s now fully exposed neck.

“Didn’t you- ah- didn’t you promise me something like room service?” Steve asks as he pulls Billy away by the luscious mullet, earning him a snarl and exposed teeth that want nothing more than to taste his flesh.

“Can’t it wait?” Billy growls lowly. 

And Steve wants to say no, wants to tease and make the other wait for it, if not perhaps beg a little, but when Billy grabs his ass for leverage as he grinds them together, all Steve can say is, 

"Fuck," as his brain short circuits.

Billy grins like he knows what he does to poor old Steve, like he remembers the kind of power he has over him. Some things never change. 

He licks a hot stripe up Steve's neck, and nibbles at his ear. "Come on, pretty boy, let's get you into something more… Comfortable." 

Hand in hand, Billy leads them both through the glass doors to the bedroom, and before Steve can even think of anything to say, he’s shoved onto the silk sheets where he lands with a loud poomf.

As he lies there flat on his back, he gets a good and proper look at Billy, and finds time to appreciate just how much he’s changed, how out of place he is here, inked skin in stark contrast to the white and dull background the suite offers.

His arms have been decorated with more skulls, which is no real surprise. A crown wrapped in thorns on top of one skull, another seemingly choking on rose petals. On his left bicep sits a gorgeous, topless mermaid on a rock, looking out over the horizon, surrounded by an ornate frame as if she were a painting.

Billy stares all the same down at Steve, who’s gotten a bit softer with age, his very legit excuse being that practicing sports in high school was what kept him fit then, and now he’s barely ever got time to hit the gym. But Billy looks at him like he doesn’t care, like he enjoys it, like he did back then.

Steve is incapable of looking away as Billy’s strong hands unbuckle his own belt and zips down his jeans, and…

“Are… are you not wearing any underwear?” He gawks and stares at the full, veiny cock jumping to attention as those jeans fall to the floor.

“Thought it was unnecessary,” Billy says with a grin all too alluring and knowing.

Steve wants to say something; feign protesting that Billy shouldn’t “assume I’m that easy,” but isn’t he? About an hour ago he was in his office, flaccid like a eunuch, accepting of his status as celibate what with his luck in the dating pool. Now he’s so fucking hard words fail him.

Billy wants Steve.

Steve needs Billy.

Some things never change.

Fingers calloused from hard work drift down Steve’s chest and stomach something so reverently and grateful, and as they hitch themselves in the waistband of both trousers and trunks, Steve lifts up his ass to allow for Billy to strip him clean.

“Mmmmm,” Billy, pleased with the sight of Steve’s lengthy erection and flushed skin, hums like he’s just been served his favorite meal on a silver platter.

And he drops to his knees by the end of the bed, kissing his way up the inside of one thigh, hands on the outside of either, guiding Steve’s thighs over Billy’s broad shoulders, around his head, feet locking together on his back.

Steve props himself up on his elbows for a better view, as Billy’s warm, soft, wet lips get closer and closer to his throbbing cock that hasn’t been touched proper for months, and even that one time at the office Christmas party wasn’t all that fulfilling.

The further up Billy goes, the more he sucks on the skin, drawing forth purple marks to leave as a reminder for Steve - not that this is something that will be forgotten anytime soon. And when he finally reaches the end of his short journey, he wraps his fingers around Steve’s dick, firm and confident in the grasp as he moves his hand up and down at a tantalizingly slow pace.

“Fuck,” Steve sighs with appreciation, well aware to the fact that it’s because it’s Billy, specifically, that makes this all the more enjoyable - all the more formidable.

Because Billy knows what he’s doing with Steve in his hands, and he makes use of old tricks as he lets out his tongue to tease at Steve’s taint, licks his tongue flat over his balls, to the base of his shaft, making the entirety of Steve’s body twitch and writhe as waves of euphoria rush through his muscles.

“Shit, Billy!” Steve moans and is quick to entangle his fingers in golden locks, as Billy starts a slow climb up his aching dick.

He can’t resist the way his back arches, abs flex, hips stutter, as he involuntarily thrust into the hand aided by a wide and sensational tongue, that eagerly laps up the pre cum that dribbles down.

And when Billy closes his mouth around the head of Steve’s cock, the poor brunette chokes on his own sounds and presses his head hard into the mattress, eyes screwed shut tight, as Billy immediately goes as deep as he can before Steve hits the back of his mouth, prodding at his uvula as he gags and swallows the best he can, making Steve practically cry and tremble with self restraint as to not just shove his lengthy prick all the way into that gorgeous heat.

Not that Billy isn’t trying his best to do just that, gagging and drooling all over Steve’s cock and his own hand working at the start of hard flesh, all of it a wet mess as he starts bobbing his head, looking up through his lashes to see how those erotic gasps and curses drip from Steve’s open lips. He keeps a calm and trained rhythm, tongue out where his lips can’t reach, throat contracting around the leaking head, hand moving along with every bow.

It’s driving Steve mad; the sweet wetness of Billy’s mouth, cheeks hollowing, the ecstatic humming and moaning sending vibrations down his pulsating cock, it’s everything he’s been craving for years.

“Billy… Billy, stop,” he tries to warn him, “Or I’ll- ah-”

But it only makes Billy more eager, somehow - keeps his lips locked around the head, tongue twirling at that weak spot beneath, as he jerks Steve off fervently, effectively pulling him undone.

“Shit, ah- fuck, Billy, I’m- I’m-”

The heat in his gut reaches a fever point, and he’s powerless as he cums into Billy’s mouth, dick kicking as he empties out, voice so loud the neighbors must be hearing it, but he can’t be bothered to care about that, as satisfaction soothes across him, like sinking into a Jacuzzi and letting yourself drift away on the soft bubbles.

Gingerly, and with what could be misconstrued as honest affection, Billy licks Steve’s softening cock clean of what he might not have initially swallowed, then leaves a trail of affable kisses up his torso as Billy climbs onto the bed, situating himself comfortably between Steve’s shaky legs.

“Hmmm good?” Billy whispers with a well deserved, self-satisfied grin. He continues kissing the soft and pale skin, along the jaw, the moles on Steve’s cheek, the corners of his lips as he smiles and nods.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles warmly and with a full heart, “Good.”

“Don’t think we’re done just yet, pretty boy.” And the grin grows wider, grows more salacious; rousing in the way he licks across his teeth.

“I’d hope not,” Steve just barely manages to mumble out before pushing their lips together, quick and brief before Billy pulls away from the needy embrace.

He takes long and hurried steps from the bed to his open suitcase, where his hand dives straight for a bottle of lube and a condom, and the sight of it jolts Steve right awake, because oh god oh yes does he want nothing more than Billy’s steely cock inside him.

The bed dips beneath Billy’s weight as he kneels between spread legs. “Think you’re ready for more?” his breath a ghost on Steve’s desirous lips, who leans in for a kiss, but Billy pulls away with a shitty little smirk.

“Please,” Steve whines and brings a hand to the back of Billy’s head. “I need you to fuck me, Billy; haven’t had a good dick in years.” He nuzzles their noses together and carefully kisses Billy’s astonished expression.

“Jesus Christ, princess,” is all he can groan out in response, sounding like he’s never been more turned on, which might just be the case. “Such filthy words from such a pretty mouth.”

And the electricity in the air courses through Steve as Billy kisses him again, deep and sensuous, lets out his tongue to feel how Steve’s own writhes around the vivid little sounds he makes.

While Steve tangles his fingers in that mane, Billy pops open the bottle and slicks up three digits before swiftly bringing his hand down between them. Their lips break apart as he teases the tip in a circle around the rim, because Billy wants to witness the way Steve’s face shifts, and with gazes locked tight and assuredly, he pushes in, slow, courteous. 

Steve bites hard at his lip when Billy smoothly dives past the first knuckle, then the second, and a slight “Fuck,” escapes as he fights to keep his eyes open, keep himself raised and near where Billy watches him with fondness that can only come from absence. Or maybe that’s just what Steve wants that look to mean. He moves his hips down to swallow up what’s left of Billy’s middle finger, keeps eye contact with intensity that begs for more.

When the finger curls together inside it knocks out a little “Ah,” that interrupts his steady, heated breathing. He licks his lips before leaning in to meet Billy again.

He was never one for a quick fuck, something hard and rowdy and crude, which took some confidence to tell Billy way back when. No, Steve wants it nice and soft and gentle and loving. Wants to hold hands, kiss and lick at salty skin, wants to be kissed, bodies flush and sticky with sweat as they rock together, held dearly. Some things never change.

“You think you can take another?” Billy asks, kind and considerate, pulling Steve back from where his mind was drifting off to.

“Yeah, please,” Steve coos and refocuses on those gorgeous baby blues.

Billy chuckles like thunder on a warm summer day, and he smiles just as charming. “You don’t have to say please or beg for it, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Steve hopes to find a glint of a lie in his eyes, because the truth will only make saying goodbye all that much worse, and when there’s nothing but honesty there, his voice cracks dangerously as he whispers, “Billy…”

As Billy presses in a second finger, Steve lets his head fall backwards with a pliant moan, arms wrapped around Billy’s broad shoulders to keep him up and close. Close enough for Billy to kiss and nibble and bite playfully up and down his neck, feeling the vibration of his voice and rhythm of his pulse as Billy pumps his fingers in and out.

It doesn’t take long for it to not be enough, making Steve whisper out, voice going hoarse, “More, ah-”

And Billy raises up his head to try and read Steve’s expression. “Already? You sure?”

The tenderness to his tone makes everything better, makes everything worse. Makes Steve want to beg him not to go, please.

“Yes, fuck-” Steve wets his lips and meets the inquisitive gaze. “Billy it’s been so long, I just need to feel you inside me so bad.”

There is no resisting the magnetic pull between them, as Billy eagerly kisses Steve, to taste how sweet those words are, how needy they are. With their lips locked he adds a third digit and swallows every sound Steve makes like he’s starving for his attention.

“God, you make me so fucking hard, baby,” Billy growls out and moves his hand faster, going as deep as he can with every thrust, making Steve whine. “Can’t wait to feel how tight and warm you are again.”

To even his own wonder and amazement, Steve’s cock is starting to fill out again already with only a few minutes break from his last orgasm. Two years since he last felt this good, felt Billy’s thick fingers open him up, felt Billy’s veiny dick brush against his thigh, eager and wet with pre.

The stretching burns faintly, but the pure pleasure of it all is making him impatient for more, and he kisses Billy with breathless enthusiasm. “Billy, I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m gonna go insane.”

Billy chuckles, awestruck and joyful in a way that makes his eyes crinkle, lips stretch wide, Steve’s heart ache for the good old days. So he leans away, retreats his fingers and reaches for the condom he dropped on the bed before, but pauses with it in hand, staring down.

“What?” Steve asks, his stomach turning in some way at how those eyes adore him like he’s a marbled statue behind velvet rope.

“You’re so gorgeous.” Billy reaches up with his dry hand to push away brown locks from Steve’s face. “You’ve grown so handsome over the last few years.”

And Steve should have known- he should have known that that was what that look meant, should have recognized it from the way they’d watch each other in secret back then. He wants nothing more than for this moment to grow into eternity. Moving on was painful and he should have said no to meeting, because now he’s facing another half year just yearning and pining and wishing.

He returns to reality as the condom wrapper gets torn open, and watches how Billy slips it on with a perfected roll of his hand, how he strokes himself with the excess lube, how he lines up with Steve’s fluttering hole.

Billy grabs the underside of Steve’s knees, spreading him out and folding him in half to properly expose everything, allowing Billy a splendid view as he slowly pushes the head of his steely cock in.

Steve’s arms give up beneath him and he falls onto the sheets; a long drawn out “Fuuuuuck,” escapes with a moan as Billy fills him out, satiating his hunger, stretching the muscle till he’s panting for air with a stutter.

“Oh Billy,” he gasps and sends his hand in search for another, blindly skipping across silk till he’s found.

Fingers lace together and Billy leans down to kiss each of Steve’s digits. He settles in between wide spread thighs and sits still there for a moment, appreciating how well his cock fits, how Steve is clenching around him.

His lips travel down Steve’s arm, up his bicep and past his shoulder as he moves down and closer to whisper in a blushing ear, “You feel so amazing, princess. Warm and tight and perfect, like you were made for this- made for me.”

Words that could make him cum untouched, if Steve were to be honest about it. He had love once. They had love once. But life pulled them apart, and it was always a struggle to find their way together again, only for brief moments, a day or two, before they’d have to abandon that warmth and feel the pain of separation again.

And Steve wonders if Billy feels the same way as he does.

With their bodies drawn together, chests flush and warm and sweaty, Billy starts moving gently, pulling almost all the way out just to bottom out in a slow motion, and Steve adores how the head of his cock drags against each muscle, massaging every inch in reach.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” Steve moans softly and relaxes fully underneath the heavy weight of Billy’s sweaty, tan, inked up body.

“Ahh, me too, mmh-” Billy whispers back, voice thick and luscious in Steve’s ear before finding his way to his mouth.

Fingers entangled, hips thrusting tenderly, tongues dancing a well practiced waltz, it just proves that-

“Some things never change.”

Steve had gotten lost in the euphoria of their tryst, and barely even heard Billy’s words, wouldn’t have believed he had spoken at all, if when he opened his eyes he wasn’t met with such a caring look from heaven's own gaze. He can’t help but smile at Billy’s talent for knowing exactly what’s on his mind.

They both smile into the kiss, but falls into bawdy ‘o’s as Billy sets a faster, more shallow pace, encouraged completely by the way Steve moans more and louder, and when his prostate is found he arches his back.

“There- ah! Billy!”

“I got you, princess,” Billy grunts out, going for soft but sounding too fucked out.

He kisses as far down Steve’s chest as he can, running a hand over his twitching stomach to reach for the leaking prick-

“N-no! Don’t!” Steve utters through whimpering lips. “I-I can cum without- wanna cum without.”

Billy’s quick to remove his hand again. “You sure?”

“Y-yeah, I’m- mmh- I’m close-” With his free hand, Steve reaches up to push off of the headboard and deeper onto Billy’s cock sliding in and out.

The devil’s grin smooths across Billy’s face, and he licks his lips. “Already?” his tone low and desirous, “You really needed this, huh? Needed me.”

“Ah- shit- yes, you! Only you, Billy,” Steve calls out loud and turns his head to press kisses against Billy’s wrist.

“God, that’s so fucking sexy, Stevie,” Billy groans roughly, like tires on wet gravel. He grabs Steve by the hip; angling him up so that he can thrust deeper, grind harder. “Wanna feel you cum, baby, strangling my dick with your tight little hole.”

Every movement lights sparks inside of Steve, the fuse to the fireworks burning faster and faster every time Billy’s incredible, fat cock pounds into his prostate, every touch scorching and phenomenal, overstimulating to a point where he won’t last much longer.

And it truly takes no more than a kiss to his collarbone, Billy’s hand squeezing at his hip, before he’s cumming again, body tensing up, emptying his lungs towards the ceiling as Billy fucks him fast through his orgasm that sends fireworks loose behind his lids.

“Fuck, yes that’s so fucking good, arrh, Steve-” Billy spills into the condom, hips stuttering involuntarily with a few too hard and crude thrusts as he buries his face in the crook of Steve’s neck.

They freeze like that once all energy has drained, sweaty and heaving for air, pressed together in a mindless haze of unadulterated pleasure. Steve almost forgot how good he can feel, how satisfaction feels, to be completely and fully blissed out, happy.

He’s the first to move in a while, as he wraps his legs around Billy and snakes one arm across his back and up to hitch on the opposite shoulder, keeping him as near and close as physically possible, hoping to lock them together forever.

Billy kisses him gently, tasting the salt that runs down Steve’s neck, humming content and ending with a happy sigh.

“You know…” he breathes out, voice so faint it’s as if he’s barely there at all. “I’m staying in town for the week.”

“Mmmh, yeah,” Steve coos, sleepy and exhausted. “For the car show, you’ve mentioned.”

“Yeah, but also…” Billy raises himself up on his elbows.

He runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, removing the locks that’s plastered to his forehead. It takes him a moment to continue, thoughts clearly processing something, as is evident in how concentrated his brow furrows.

“I’m… considering relocating my shop, keep the old one running but make headquarters in a bigger city.”

And Steve’s no fool, he catches on immediately, knows exactly what Billy is barely insinuating, and his heart is going rampant, close to exploding maybe as it jumps around his chest, making him truly speechless.

“Was hoping you’d, I dunno, help me look around? Find a shop for sale or something. Some place here in Chicago.”

“Billy…” Steve whispers, hoping that his tone conveys every single thing he’s feeling right now, and perhaps the way Billy smiles at it proves that he hears it all. “Yes, I’d love to help you out.”

Billy leans down to kiss him, lips portraying something new and hopeful.

Maybe… maybe some things are about to change.

[skinfeeler]

on the internet, there are accusations which are so grave that as a result of their charged nature are hard to even publicly denounce because even doing so makes them stick to the person accused — sometimes they are made up out of whole cloth for sordid and hateful reasons exactly because of this — something i'm sure something most tfem people will be familiar with. in light of that, all that can be asked of me is that i list the circumstances as i know them which i think may have given rise to these.

around mid-2019, shortly after i had been raped, there was a huge debate going on across multiple of my friend groups after i made the mistake of reblogging a theory post about the fate of coltan mining 'after the revolution' that my landlords didn't like. it was upsetting for me as i was rather dependent on my limited contacts at the time, who now all looked to be up in arms with each other. while under the influence of various drugs to cope and self-harming in other ways i liked a few posts in the discourse that seemed reasonable to me given my politic and in terms of people most of whom i understood at the time as people who were friends with others i found reasonable, which generally corresponded to a skepticism that we could extract enough coltan ethically to maintain the current technological status quo and all that entails. this was taken in the moment to be an insult to them as apparently, those people in question whose posts i liked in a haze were their enemies (for being too post-colonial for their tastes?). in that moment, while my blood had not yet dried, the choice they saw fit to make on dealing with this perceived slight was to harass me and force me to apologise for, apparently, personally betraying them as such after extended diatribes about how what i did was evil and how i did not deserve to give my own explanations for it in any way while hurling extended abuse at me. this after they had used my blog as a springboard to cause a situation that was incredibly stressful to me— and sordid in general, the genocide accusations all around were completely unwarranted and served no actual purpose, but i digress.

this set a precedent of harassment and abuse where over the course of the years, even before i started renting from them after they bought a house — they did this because their current situation was no longer tenable — they would consistently, at every imagined or real slight choose to resolve the situation by mobbing me and not giving me anywhere near enough room to construct a narrative of my actions for myself, let alone to assert my standpoint to them, no matter the scale or scope of the situation. too often took this easy way out, and justified it to each other and me by speaking about well, they're married so 'of course' they're going to 'stand up for each other', because of trauma, because of whatever mental illness, the language changed but the message was the same— this is to not be beholden to further context or negotiation, or even juxtaposition with my own mental problems and needs. this extended not just to fights but also to even negotiating any sort of vaguely consistent and regular house cleaning regimen, insisting that it was not possible 'right now' in any way to keep the house to a decent standard of cleanliness, with new reasons being constructed as old ones became irrelevant. to them there was no such thing as a different frame of thought, in fact, they seemed to deny the concept of a frame of thought altogether: to them if you opposed them in thought, behavior, opinion, or behavior, it was either out of ignorance or out of personal malice, or at least, they felt entitled to treat specifically me this way, while they knew i had no other options— as they admit to when they speak in their own crude terms about my former social isolation. for all the good they might have done to me and at times actually did — honesty demands i acknowledge this — they did not fulfill their responsibility to manage the living environment in which these good deeds were placed prevent it from being coercive and harmful. that it is everyone's duty to make not just a token or symbolic but an adequate attempt at not being violent to those who the world has placed you in a position of power over and that this is what ultimately is the determinative factor of moral character as opposed to 'the sum of good things you do' is, i believe, understood in ample contexts by most people.

from domestic to ideological to interpersonal, this was their modus operandii, thereby right down to monitoring my internet usage. you may understand that when this became so blatant as the parable of the scorpion and the frog being recited to me — a noxiously essentialist story which apparently they didn't grasp was very telling of them to kin as the scorpion in, but which is surprisingly common and i've encountered before and since — i no longer had any grounds to keep faith that any of this was ever going to meaningfully change, and i sought out a new place to live, as me returning to my parents permanently or elsewhere was not an option. i did find one, in the end, and the day where i... refused to apologise for blocking them on tumblr (???) which was apparently existentially upsetting to them, which i did because i couldn't bear these two engaging with me in the established way and was anticipating that they would again — as they persistently have, and immediately did — was the same day i exited the house for temporary shelter because apparently laying down a boundary that simple or like, digital wasn't viable. at the end of the day, with three bags over my shoulders and in my arms, i fumbled the door closed behind me which apparently made some loud kind of noise (i was preoccupied with other things entirely, so i didn't notice), and for the first time in that day nicole came out of her room after me, running after me screaming at me and hurling insults at me and family who had come to pick me up, this is what is being referred to as ‘slamming doors’. as far as i am concerned, her response to that then and as well as her response now was and is more intelligible as abject rage at me refusing to play along with the rules of engagement that she had grown to believe were immutable and sacred — to defy or question them, supposedly ableism or whatever was convenient at the time, now apparently 'social darwinism' — than any real and actual violence on my part.

[emmcarstairs]

Lucie Herondale: From Childhood to Adulthood

A/N: Sadly, technology is still not that advanced and I don’t have access to Cassie’s head. What you’re about to read is my interpretation of several scenes and symbols, based on what I’ve read about cautionary fairy tales, mythological tropes and my own literary experience. Of course, fairy tales don’t reflect the complexity of real life. But sometimes authors make use of the codes found in their construct. I’ve written this text for fun. So if you enjoy reading such literary analyses, by all means, proceed. 

Disclaimer: Discussion of sexuality

So these days I can’t stop thinking about Lucie and her story (surprise, ik!) and I had a sort of epiphany. In one of my ramblings about Lucie, I mentioned how Lucie’s arc is reminiscent of a typical coming-of-age tale. These writings usually serve as a subtle introduction of adulthood to children. And I think I found a clue about Lucie’s next step towards maturity.

So where did we leave Lucie in Chain of Gold? She is now aware of the hidden power within her which has been docile all her life. At first, her power manifests itself unknowingly to her (interrogating Gast, saving Cordelia). By the end of the book, however, she uses it intentionally (commanding Jesse) and we know she plans to exercise it again. Pay attention that she’s initially afraid of her “monstrous power”, as Gast calls it; she doesn’t want to order anyone around and she’s not sure of the extent of her abilities. She knows of their existence but she hasn’t mastered them yet.

Alongside the awakening of her demonic power, Lucie experiences another “awakening” - that of her sexuality. She tells the reader that she has begun to notice things she wouldn’t have paid attention to before:

She would not have noticed his state of undress when she was so young, but she was very conscious of it now. (p.170) 

Still, Lucie has not yet fully grasped the meaning behind these new aspects of her life. Throughout the book, she attributes them to familiar experiences: 

As a writer, one had to pay attention to these things. Descriptions were very important. (p.220) 

Or she’s completely baffled by the way her body reacts:

She could feel her heart pounding, and was a little surprised at herself. It wasn’t as if seeing ghosts was that a rare occurrence for her. (p. 219) 

Now, I have to make an important side note: In fairy tales, harnessing one’s sexuality usually stands for gaining knowledge. Sexuality is in direct opposition to innocence which can be interpreted as the state of still having knowledge to learn. In my previous analysis, I touched briefly upon how the awakening of Lucie’s powers and the realisation of her full potential (=sexuality) are interwoven together. So we’ll see how these two develop simultaneously. 

So far, Lucie’s character arc loosely follows “The Heroine’s Journey” (you might have heard of “The Hero’s Journey” but the two are different). While “The Hero’s Journey” is primarily about performing a deed of bravery and  physical power (e.g killing the dragon), “The Heroine’s Journey” is oriented inwards and it’s main goal is to reconcile the monster within (=”monstrous power”). It’s about descending into the deepest parts of oneself and returning with a greater awareness. Maureen Mardock, the author of “The Heroine’s Journey”, writes: 

Persephone is pulled out of the innocence (unconsciousness) of everyday life into a deeper consciousness of self by Hades. She is initiated into the sexual mysteries … She becomes Queen of the Underworld.

So the question is how this descent may be portrayed in TLH. What if I tell you that Lucie will be “initiated” into a world of “sexual mysteries” very soon? And that this “world” is none other than Hell Ruelle - a literal Downworld establishment.

In an early chapter, Lucie, Cordelia, and Anna meet up for a party at the Hell Ruelle.

Let’s see what some of the characters have to say about this place.

Matthew: “Are you quite sure you want to come, Cordelia? It will be scandalous.”

Cordelia: “It was rumoured that more daring things happened at salons as well, in the shadows and the dark gardens, couples gathering to tryst where no one could see them.”

Anna: “One famous noble lady seated her artistic guests in her ruelle- the space between her bed, any lady’s bed, really, and the wall. A scandalous spot.”

Also consider the following: Hell Ruelle is the place which Matthew and Anna, two of presumably the most “scandalous” characters, visit regularly. It’s the venue for Anna’s attempts at seduction. The place where we see Cordelia wearing probably the most revealing clothes she’s ever put on in her life. And, of course, the place where she and James share the steamiest love scene in the whole book.

In short, it is a scandalous spot, where adult pleasures take place. And I find it significant that Lucie is about to go there now, after her initial awakening in CoG. 

A few weeks ago, I actually wondered if Lucie would have had her birthday by the start of CoI. You know, as a means of showing that she’d literally grown up. But it’s not possible since that would mean she’s the same age as James. Then the cover was revealed and one of the first exclamations @jesseblackthorns made was “She looks very matured!”. It’s true because this is the point of her journey towards self-discovery. Kudos to the designer! And then I thought: what better way to show this than with her visit to Hell Ruelle in the beginning of the next book as a symbolic crossing of one of the thresholds to adulthood? 

“Threshold” is an important word choice here. Look at what Cordelia sees at the entrance of Hell Ruelle:

Inside was a narrow hallway whose walls were heavy red cloth tapestries hanging from the ceiling to floor, obscuring whatever was behind them. At the end of the hall was another door, also painted red.

We have a hallway, we also have a door, a literal threshold, if you will. It’s a boundary between two worlds. The tapestries “obscure” Cordelia’s perception; a hidden potential is out of sight, anything might lie beyond. The color red is everywhere; red is often associated with passion, desire and sexuality. Moreover, it’s hanging from the walls, it’s bleeding. I don’t want to get too explicit but the sexual subtext is there. 

As she goes further in the heart of the party, we have this passage:

Cordelia felt her heart flutter a bit - there was something about this night that felt dangerous, and not because she was in a room full of Downworlders. The fact that none of them were making any attempt to hide it did make it seem less worrisome. (p.228)

The Downworlders reveal their true nature here. In a way, here they are their fully-realised selves (=adults). So Cordelia has symbolically entered adulthood – and adulthood often feels dangerous and confusing. Note the succession of details which are closely associated with adult entertainment. Cordelia notices the paintings of naked figures on the walls. And after a brief hesitation, she proceeds to drink champagne - an alcoholic drink -  for the first time in her life. 

Despite the feeling of danger and novelty in the air, Cordelia doesn’t turn around and run. She embraces it. She jokes about the nudity depicted in the paintings, and she leaves the party as a hero after saving the warlocks. This goes to show just how self-aware Cordelia is and I think we can all agree that she’s one of the most mature protagonists Cassie has ever written. 

What about Lucie then? We haven’t seen her in such a setting before and it would be interesting to follow her experience. I hope that we’ll have a glimpse of her POV during the party. In my opinion, this is very likely since we’ve already had Cordelia’s POV and Anna is in her element in this place. So it all depends on what Cassie wants to show us and the plot. 

To sum up, Lucie’s visit to Hell Ruelle is a symbolic step towards adulthood. In CoG, she’s wary of the newfound power within her which also symbolises her sexual awakening. Following “The Heroine’s Journey”, the more comfortable Lucie gets with wielding her power, the more aware and confident of herself she’ll become (and vice versa). The coming-of-age stories usually tackle themes such as the interplay between uncertainty/disgust and attraction about sexuality. The visit will broaden Lucie’s horizons and it’s a step along the way of her becoming a fully-realized human being in terms of fairy tale tradition.

Thank you for reading! If you have any questions, please ask me! <333