#i for real could FEEL the elitist part of my brain going IF YOU WANTED THINGS TO BE CLEARCUT AND SIMPLE WHY WOULD YOU READ A TRAGEDY / WAR

[snow-and-saltea]

sorry imma put this one on here, i wanna reply to it but i won't be able to without watering down my intent, and if i do my point loses its weight

edit: nvm LMFAO i worded it nicely in the end, under the cut tho cus this is mf long

(context: in this chapter of a manhwa, the sister of a criminal who attempted to kill the main protagonist talked with her and told her about how her other brother died in interrogation for being part of the revolutionary group against the monarchy. his death was happening in tandem with the main character's violin recital, of which her father left his duty from interrogating the brother, just so he could attend. it was framed in such a way to show how oblivious she was to the political climate surrounding her, how her privilege kept her sheltered, and how even when the criminal's sister went to their gates she was detained and shooed away and dismissed as "causing a fuss". their eyes meet from the MC being up high on the balcony, and the woman from down low past the fences, officers manhandling her into going away as she was a commoner and could be seen as an ally to her brother as part of the revolutionary party. the woman says specifically that she doesn't think that the mc is guilty, she just wants her to know what happened. and the mc reflects on all of this and realises how clueless she's been, how sheltered of a life she had that, until now, she couldn't find the common thread between the two of them, and she starts crying and apologising. later on, when she calms down, the weight of her privileged birth and its responsibilities hits her, and she's steeling herself, and the chapter ends.)

first of all. hmmm?? "what exactly is the FL's fault"? of course, if we were to go by straightforward, linear logic, SHE hasn't done anything wrong. she never ordered her dad to kill people. she doesn't even know people are dying. no one has been put under harms way by her direct actions. all these things would be enough to clear your conscience.... if you are a child, that is.

if you are an adult, like she is, you will eventually realise that you have the power to impact people and things and your surroundings. if you are an adult with a moral conscience, you will feel BAD about your obliviousness to others' suffering that makes you rethink about what your blindspots in perception are; how could i have missed something so vital - how long has this been going on - why did this continue to happen? and this is the stage she is getting at. by our estimates as modern people living in modern world standards, it is very late to be living this long and not realise that you are not the only unique occupant of the world, blind to other people's perspectives. but that's besides the point, because everyone has their own path and pace to follow. it doesn't matter how long it took to get here, we're just glad you're here now to do the good work with us.

do you not feel some sort of revulsion knowing that a family member of yours is acting in immoral ways, and you've been the unwitting beneficiary to that immorality? does it not burden you with responsibility when you realise you could have had multiple opportunities to speak out against the hurt being inflicted onto others, while you were in a position to do so safely and without extreme repercussion? THAT is what she's feeling. she knows that she technically do anything wrong, but she didn't do anything right, either. and it is not enough to know suffering exists, but to strive to heal it, whenever you are able.

this is obviously a fictional story so it doesn't have to be that deep; except it can be, and it's trying to be, because this story is set after the revolution has toppled over the monarchy, so themes like classism, privilege of birth and how to quantify someone's 'value' will be present.

nevermind i wrote all of this but i got so heated instead that i actually managed to write a pretty polite sounding response to the comment, leading with curiosity abt their perspectives and trying to sound friendly and Open to Discussion. the proofreader in me will never die as long as im pissed off at people but trying to find a constructive way of communicating that upset 💪😎👍

anyways. this is what i wrote instead

i don't do zines these days but my proofreader ability for real saves my ass so many times in writing communication. fr i think i would've made some very regretful choices if i were trigger happy ajdhskdjkdjd i'm quite satisfied w what i wrote, i lined out what i got different from them and expressed curiosity on their perspective, posited positives to recontextualize things so that i'm not just going "no ur wrong and Here's Why", gently went "we can agree to disagree!" and remained pretty lighthearted throughout, with no accusatory or pointed language. i'm p proud of myself!! i am able to engage in discussions without pissing myself and other people off!! hurray!!

[wandering-neko]

I made this for Facebook but this is an easier space for large thoughts lol

CN: community vs subculture concerning white supremacy and/or other elitism

though i want to ensure i've been thinking of this stuff conceptually and i do not mean this as an ill reflection of my communities and friends - but i need to be honest i think that much like most online social relationships can be para-relationships in nature, i think subculture communities are not a fair use of the term community

Ever since i heard that, in essence, "you're a part of your community where you like it or not, you're just a bad member" it really drove me to consider what a community is. The only community i identified with beyond the nebulous "community" of a town was the community of subculture - Steampunk, Flow, Goth, LARP, etc etc. These were "communities" that I found kinship for.

But these communities were welcoming and were always opt in - truthfully given the constant strive to be a welcoming community, and not gatekeep (another term i'm realizing ways more than i was thinking) there wasn't a bad way to be a "goth" - you could be a bad person who was a goth, but truth be told, i looked at these opt in communities through rose tinted glasses, that only "good" people, good community members, would opt in. But i think this was the first crack into why i feel i (and maybe in general, we) have been using "Community" unfairly.

First off, all subcultures have bad-actors, full stop. Every one. but due to the opt-in/out nature of them, we can take different approaches and intentions to try and define what a bad actor is and what to do about them. This ranges from the missing-stair approach, call-ins, call outs, black-lists (both open and closed) and other approaches. Some are more successful than others.

but i'm starting to think perhaps the most successful is when casting someone out, when removing them isn't an option, the outcomes are going to be better.

So what communities aren't given the option to cast people out? Your physical communities. your neighborhoods. your towns. You will see these people every day. And if they're a bad actor, maybe you change how you interact with them, but the best way to handle them is to call them in, and hope they're willing to change. And the best communities can do this well - and the ones dealing with white supremacy individualism and defensiveness (and probably other tenants) will have the hardest time to handle this

How do you change how you handle them? I imagine if you're like me you'd assume how you'd change your engagement in mutual aid and support. And honestly its probably why subcultures exist. some elitists decided that some were not into someone - pick your favorite oppressed group and their typical oppressors - so they decided to build them out of the govt community aid networks. and when they did, to justify, they had to lean heavier and heavier into capitalistic elitism to make the social monkey brain not see these people as "in need" and instead "outsider"

And in this society where people were labeled outsider for very real cultural differences that should of been embraced and we built up these 'outsider' classes, we continued to sub-divide until we had subcultures. So we could identify 'our own' and avoid "the other". I feel like Catholicism vs protestant may of been one of the first subcultures in historic colonial America. And as we grew and grew as a country, we found more ways to subdivide - by wealth and everything - but i think i've lost the thread. Why don't these subcultures count as communities?

I think they use to, for a long time. But then we started basing our subcultures on the internet instead of in person. No longer are we meeting sunday at mass, friday at the goth club, saturday at the punk bar, now we're chatting online, getting a huge boost of feel-good-hormones being in HUGE communities that our monkey brains love, all with the same interests and hobbies, and we seek out these 'communities' because how wonderful it is to feel so like minded, after being divided for so long!

but these communities are commodified - the mutual aid and support are tepid at best, especially since we're really spending our resources on enjoying it and paying for the experience, not on helping each other.

(Then i think of subculture vendors and local artisans and the benefit those spaces bring them - still commodified a bit, but maybe more mutual aid and support than i'm giving credit for? still a work in progress - mostly i've been feeling so disconnected WHILE being connected to so many of you and in so many communities and interests. And i think its because i've based my 'communities' more on interest than on geography. And thats not fair to me, and i don't think thats super fair to you. I can only imagine the social-monkey stress of seeing me reaching out and being literal states away sometimes and unable to do simple hang outs, as much as it stresses me to not connect with you when you need physical interactions. And likewise we're both seeing the <3 and likes go up without getting that interaction - not because the likes and hearts and hollow, but because they're impossible. Its unfair of me to expect people 3hrs away, generally more, to visit at the drop of a hat

But maybe i've come to some very side-ways conclusions. Maybe i'm missing something? what do you think?

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What would happen if you were sent back and ended up in the orphanage with Tom Riddle—and say you also had magic?

Oh boy.

Well, there's a lot to question here. Judging by the... spirit of this ask, I presume I'm... pretty much reincarnated. I'm in the orphanage, I'm much younger than I am now and a child, I'm pre-Hogwarts age, and I retain my current knowledge.

For the purpose of this ask I suppose I also retain my current mental faculties. Despite being in the body of an eight-year-old, I'm not The Carnivorous Muffin at eight.

Welp, there's a lot to consider here.

First, I probably don't realize I'm in Harry Potter for quite some time and instead assume I've been reincarnated to some parallel universe. It's the 1930's, I'm in England in the depression, WWI has occurred and the vast majority of major historical events I know about seem to have happened in the right order, and this Earth is eerily similar to the Earth I left behind.

Strange that I appear to remember everything of my past life with my adult mental abilities, but alright universe, I guess that's how we're going to play this.

What I do know is that I'm dirt poor, presumably still a woman which does not bode well for my career prospects, and if I want any prospects in life period I'm going to have to fight tooth and nail for it. It'd be great if I got adopted to help with this, and might be nice to have people in my life who love me, but there's a lot of orphans in the world and a lot of orphans who are much less weird than I am.

The orphanage is the orphanage and not great, Mrs. Cole is overworked, the orphanage is chronically understaffed, and the kids are running wild beating the shit out of each other.

Being a girl, I probably don't have to worry about getting the shit kicked out of me quite as much, but I still probably try to keep my head down and don't aggravate the particularly beefy looking orphans.

Yes, there's some very angry gremlin named Tom Riddle around who will shove you down the stairs in retribution, but that's just a weird coincidence. And then supernatural shit starts happening. Billy's rabbit hangs itself, people get injuries when Tom is nowhere near them, and I start wondering if this is really the Tom Riddle.

I'm in Wool's Orphanage, my matron is Mrs. Cole, Tom Riddle is running around lighting things on fire. It's possible, though it could all be a strange coincidence.

Now, how things go from here depends on how controlled my own magic is. Since accidental magic typically does manifest at least once or twice, it probably does manifest for me for.. something. If Tom Riddle's there to witness it then...

Well, I imagine he's very offended. Here he was, special, different, better than everyone else, and then some girl in the orphanage (who dares to get very good grades on her assignments in school) has it too.

And I just stand there, smiling, going "Tee hee".

He probably confronts me to prove that he's better at it than I am, and he probably is unless the universe hates both him and me, but having someone else with the Shining around probably prompts him to take me as his protégé (in part so he can show off and in part because he's genuinely excited to be able to share this super cool talent).

I am now apprentice to eight-year-old Tom Riddle. Whoop de doo.

Well, I don't remember this part of Harry Potter, so now I'm probably confused as to where I am again. Regardless, I try to advise Tom on how to tone it down and not, say, traumatize Amy and Dennis for life and antagonize all the other orphans forever. He probably doesn't take me seriously. What do I know, I can't even light that patch of grass on fire?

Hanging around Tom Riddle gets me a reputation to, given the difference in genders, probably a fairly nasty one at that. When Dumbledore arrives he's undoubtedly told hot gossip about how eleven-year-old Tom and I have had sex in a ritual to summon Satan. Dumbledore takes this seriously.

Dumbledore probably meets us both at the same time and it's a disaster. I tried my best to prep Tom without revealing I'm a prophet, Tom first doesn't believe there might not be others, then doesn't believe they would be antagonist/anything but amazed by how awesome he is.

Well, Dumbledore lights his wardrobe on fire while I sit there. Dying inside. Dumbledore probably also does something to me too, to teach me some kind of lesson about something.

I imagine he temporarily disfigures me/makes me appear very ugly, then sticks a mirror to the wall, that way I realize that looks aren’t everything/being a whore is wrong. Tom, still traumatized over the wardrobe, is no help and my magic’s probably not controlled enough to do a thing about it.

I spend a day looking like a pig, Tom and I are given just enough money to buy new wands and second hand/barely functioning everything else and given the world’s worst directions to Diagon Alley. Thanks, Albus.

Well, months pass, we get our wands, Tom gets excited for Hogwarts and I... start seriously considering the future. WWII is coming, the Blitz is coming, Tom and I live in east London and must be able to evacuate during the bombing of London (which went on well past the Blitz to the end of the war). I also start considering my future in the wizarding world. Do I now actually have career prospects?

Probably not because I’m muggle born and a woman. My best bet is doing very well in useful subjects and finding employment with the goblins, I can’t imagine they have the same hang ups as the wizarding world.

Tom wants to go to Slytherin, of course, I tell him this is a bad idea. “Gee Tom,” I say, “Not sure how I know this but I have this feeling that Slytherin is filled with people who loathe our very existence and will shank us. Why don’t we pick Ravenclaw or Gryffindor instead?”

No one shanks Tom Riddle! Tom says. Tom is still eleven and while he admits that sometimes I may, in retrospect, have been right about certain things that doesn’t mean he wants to go to the house known for hard work. That’s code word for everyone there being a moron and having no other redeeming features than tenacity. As for the other two, Ravenclaws sound like smug, elitist, nerds and Gryffindors like dumb jocks.

Better to be known for ambition, cunning, and actually being competent.

Well, there’s no talking him out of this one, and goddamn it we’re all each other has.

I’m the closest thing Tom Riddle has ever had to a friend in all these years and in the orphanage the only one who could hold a decent conversation with him. And while it’s not my moral obligation to keep Tom from becoming a domestic terrorist, and there’s no guarantee I even can, dumping him for one of the other houses and drifting apart won’t help.

Not to mention that, after all these years, I’m undoubtedly lonely, I’m in this foreign land, and he’s now the closest thing to a friend I have.

Looks like I’m going to Slytherin, YOOOOOLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOO! I shout as a battle cry as tears run down my face. I may have to convince the hat to put me in Slytherin, but like all human beings I am a mixture of many qualities. I’m not cunning in the least, mind games exhaust me unutterably, but I’m full of ambition. 

This confirms every bad opinion Dumbledore had regarding me and Tom.

For the next several months, Tom probably beats the shit out of dormmates who steal his things/harass him. He beats up mine too because feminism (TM) means that he should treat all people equally when guilty of the same crime. I... am not sure I can win that fight so I just resign myself to having to adopt some of Tom’s tactics to make sure I’m not shoved in lockers, have tampons thrown at me, or pig’s blood dumped on me at the prom.

Once again, everyone thinks Tom Riddle and I are dating. I don’t even know if they’re wrong at this point.

Well, being in class with eleven year olds who seem to have had little to no prior education, Tom and I are undoubtedly blazing through class. I imagine I’m bored out of my mind (the Hogwarts curriculum sounds unbelievably boring) and Tom is... well, probably devouring the library but probably also bored. I decide to try and see if I can find some real history texts on this world (there are probably none, the wizarding world seems to only have two historians and both... have a different approach to history than current modern thought as I know it) and discover what magic even is. That shit is fascinating: wingardium leviosa is not.

Dumbledore likely gives neither me nor Tom points in class, I think the house cup is stupid, so I really don’t care. I have no interest in playing quidditch, neither does Tom, so that doesn’t happen.

The second world war starts up, Tom, me, and the muggle borns are the only ones who give a flying fuck. I work harder on figuring out how to get lodging during the Blitz/the bombing of London. Unfortunately, Mrs. Cole hates me too for being the Bride of Satan, so that’s a no go. Third year, 1939, I probably write her in earnest anyway telling her to PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, send Tom and I instructions for the summer/where the orphans are staying/how they’ve been dispersed to the countryside. As a back up plan, I try desperately to shmooze shopkeepers in Hogsmeade during every Hogsmeade weekend to get myself and Tom part time jobs and lodging over the summer. As a back up back up plan, I spend my time badgering Tom to become very good at survivalist wandless magic and if the Lord has pity on me gain some ability in it myself.

Hopefully, either Mrs. Cole or one of the Hogsmeade shop owners take pity on us. If not, then Tom and I are going extreme camping. Given Mrs. Cole (and the brain damage brought on by Dumbledore erasing memories left and right) and the likelihood of Hogsmeade shop owners just not getting it, Tom and I probably go extreme camping.

(Tom, meanwhile, asks Dippet and Dumbledore if we can stay in Hogwarts over the summer. He’s told no exceptions. London’s being bombed, you say? No exceptions. Toodles. Tom is never the same.)

Me, Tom Riddle, a tent we made ourselves, several rabbits we had to catch and skin ourselves, and the pitiful fire that we can keep going through pure will alone because if we try to use real people spells then we’ll get arrested. It has the benefit of making Tom feel very manly and impressive, catching his own food, but both of us are well aware that this sucks.

But hey, we aren’t dead.

Well, I’m sure Tom doesn’t appreciate that and this is where I imagine he seriously starts talking about violent revolution. I imagine much of my time is spent discussing the merits of not violently overthrowing our ant overlords. I imagine a thirteen-year-old Tom isn’t impressed by my pacifism, but he’s not married to Voldemort yet (probably).

Then I imagine the horcrux thing comes up and... Well, I will argue hard against it. Humans die, it is a truth of the universe, and simply something we have to accept. Horcruxes are not a measure against that, they can be destroyed, given infinite time they will be, and the sacrifice they require is too high: human life as well as the very essence of who you are.

What is a soul? I’m not sure, we never really learn in HP canon, but whatever it is, it is in some way the essence of yourself. If you take half of it and throw it somewhere else, you will cease to be you, someone or something else is walking around in your body while the other half of you exists in endless agony.

If you must chase immortality, create a philosopher’s stone (as I darkly wonder why it was that couldn’t be replicated and what Flamel had to do to make it in the first place). On second thought, maybe we should search for the Holy Grail.

Whether I can talk Tom out of this or not is... unclear. I’m going to say that I can, in part because I imagine he’ll want to show the chamber off to me, tell me when he realizes he’s Heir of Slytherin, and in doing so I can prevent the basilisk incident from occurring. Without that, there’s no dead Myrtle, which means no first victim. That summer, when he goes to the Gaunts, I’ll go with him and convince him that it’s not worth it. He can just turn around and leave these people alone, I hopefully can talk him down. Which means no second victim.

I start writing Flamel to see if Tom or I can get an apprenticeship (Dumbledore probably beats us to the chase and poisons him against us, but it’s worth a shot).

Then, should all go well, I can convince Tom to find employment with the goblins rather than shady antique dealers on the bad side of town. Hopefully, I can convince him to never become Voldemort, and instead we travel the world together looking for the origins of magic or something.

Dumbledore goes around taking people’s memories of us in preparation for when Tom becomes a dark lord and I his lady of the night darkness.

TL;DR Apparently my life would become an SI/Tom Riddle fic. So, thanks anon.

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ twenty-two

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 7.6k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

act three ➻ part four

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If your blood could run any colder, it would, but you think you’re already on the verge of passing out because of the impact of Seonghwa’s revelation. Words die on your tongue, nothing comes out, and all you can do is flit your gaze between Seonghwa and the door off to the left. An exit, a getaway, an opportunity for you to run away from this mess – yet you can’t move a muscle. Seonghwa lifts his hands as though to show you that he means you no harm, but your mind is already running haywire. He must notice your wandering gaze because it’s the first thing he comments on.

“I won’t stop you from leaving,” he says, tone almost too steady and calm for your liking. Perhaps it’s merely the panic that pumps through your veins like blood though. “This isn’t – I wasn’t going to tell you yet, but we can talk about it now if you’d like. I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do. I promise that you do not have to be afraid of me, Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Hongjoong. Does Hongjoong know?” You spit out the question, the only thing you’re able to get out in the haze of panic.

“Does he know what? About you or me?” Seonghwa tilts his head ever so slightly. His movements are slow and careful, and even in his confusion, you can tell that he’s trying his best to show you that he means you no harm.

“Bo-Both.”

A sharp inhale, and Seonghwa looks off to the side. His hesitancy leads you to believe that Hongjoong knows about you, but Seonghwa shakes his head in denial.

“He only knows about me, not you. I haven’t told him.”

“How long – how long have you known?”

“I’ve been… suspicious since we met. The moment I saw you, I could tell that something was off and different. I couldn’t pinpoint it or figure it out right away.” Seonghwa lets his hands slowly fall back to his sides as he continues to speak, gaze slipping to the floor rather than at you. “Hongjoong truly believe that fate is what brought you onto the ship, and I have to agree with him. There’s no way that you – a Siren – could’ve just waltzed onto the ship without it being fate. Once you woke up from the surgery and we started talking more, I had some doubts and wondered if I was reading into things or misinterpreted something. It wasn’t until we were on Aegos that I was able to confirm it. The night after we found you and San in the warehouse and we were sleeping in the same bed. That’s when I knew.”

“Did you see my tattoos? Is that what gave it away?” You draw your arms closer to your body by instinct, hugging yourself tightly as you finally manage to look at Seonghwa’s eyes.

“No, no.” He shakes his head several times before lifting his chin. “It was the Dreamscape. I saw you curled up in the water. The old man pointed me towards you, but as soon as I got close to you, you disappeared.”

“H-Hold on,” you stammer and squeeze your eyes shut. “Slow down, I-I – let me process this for s s-second. I don’t understand what the fuck is going on right now, so j-just give me a minute.” Seonghwa extends a hand to you, but the action only causes a surge of fear to shoot through you.

“Don’t open up to anyone.”

“Don’t reveal your identity to anyone.”

“Hide yourself.”

You swat his hand away as the words ring in your ears. Seonghwa backs up at your motions, brows knitting together tightly, and he begins to speak again, much slower this time.

“Can you please sit down with me so I can explain, Y/N?” Seonghwa’s voice is warm, inviting – safe – and you let your hand stretch out towards him again but with the intent to hold his. His lips twitch into a soft smile, and he slips his hand into yours. The contact is warm and soft. When his fingers intertwine yours, it’s like a wave of comfort washes over you and dispels the panic still rushing through you. He tugs you closer to the bed, climbing up on the mattress and bringing you with him. “I’ll answer any of your questions as best I can. I – I didn’t tell you sooner because I didn’t want to scare you o-or… I don’t know. There’s no proper excuse for it, so I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

You fold your legs under you and stare at Seonghwa’s face for several seconds before even contemplating what to say.

“I don’t – I don’t know anything about any of this. I don’t know what the hell th-that Dreamscape you mentioned is, I don’t know what it means to be a Siren, I never learned any of this shit. I only know that I’m a Siren a-and I have some sort of abilities, but I don’t know what it means. I don’t know why I’m a Siren, I don’t know why I have to hide myself, I don’t know any of this shit. I only know that I’m a Siren because the old man in my dreams told me that when I was fourteen. I don’t remember anything before that, I don’t know who I was or what I was, I don’t know if I knew what it means to be a Siren before joining the military, because all those memories are gone now. I j-just don’t understand any of this, and I hate it. I hate not knowing, I hate feeling so fucking confused all the time, and I don’t know what this means or how I’m supposed to feel about any of this. All I’m feeling right now is fucking panic because I’ve been told for the past seven years that no one can fucking know what I am or I’ll f-fucking die, or some shit like that and–”

Seonghwa stills you, placing a hand over your forearm and gripping you so tight that you nearly wince.

“Y/N, try to take deep breaths. It’s okay to be panicked and confused, but you have to breathe, or you’ll start hyperventilating. Okay?” You nod a few times, lips parted as you listen to him. “Okay, just breathe with me for a bit. You’re okay.” His thumb traces small circles over the skin of your forearm as he imitates deep breaths for you. You follow the movements, eyes lingering on the rise and fall of his chest. It works like a charm really – between the methodical touch on your arm and the deep breathing, Seonghwa manages to calm you enough to have coherent thoughts again.

Seonghwa is a Siren. Your brain can only produce that thought over and over again like it’s a mantra. As you calm down more, your thoughts start to drift and expand. If Seonghwa was lying about being an Elitist, how many of the others are lying about their identities too? Are the military records even correct? Hongjoong never said how many Sirens he had found already. He never specified whether he had found any or not, just that he was hunting them. Why? What’s he hiding? Is he hiding something?

“Okay, I can start explaining what I know if you’re ready,” Seonghwa says, cutting through your thoughts with ease. You blink up at him and nod a few times. “I’ll start with the Dreamscape. Um, it’s how Sirens are connected. The spirit of the Dreamscape guides Sirens to each other if they’re in the Dreamscape at the same time, which only happens if both are asleep.”

“I-Is that – is that Daichi? The old man?”

“Yes, yes. That’s him. He’s the spirit of the Dreamscape, and he only exists in that space.” Seonghwa takes a breath, and you use it as an opportunity to speak again, a question on your lips.

“When… when I first got on the ship, he warned me – um, he told me to avoid nearby danger. That someone close to me is a dangerous threat, one I’ve not encountered before. Why would he tell me that if he’s supposed to be guiding me to other Sirens?” Seonghwa’s lips draw together, and he shakes his head a few times.

“Daichi wasn’t talking about me. He told me the same thing at one point, but I still haven’t figured out what he meant by that. It was long before you arrived on the ship though, so it can’t have been you. His goal – the spirit of the Dreamscape – his purpose is to guide Sirens to each other in the Dreamscape. For you or me, whenever a Siren is nearby, they go to the Dreamscape together and can meet each other in dreams. Through the Dreamscape, they can learn about each other and know what the other is feeling. Let’s say we were in there together, and I felt happy. You would feel that happiness too, even if you don’t know that I’m there. It’s called a Siren’s Intuition in the real world, where a Siren can sense another’s distress and provide comfort. A sixth sense almost. You have that intuition in both the real world and in the Dreamscape, but the emotions and comfort provided through the Dreamscape is considered to be far more potent and effective than real-world comfort.”

“Is it… some sort of connection then?” You inquire, watching Seonghwa’s fingers continue to trail over your skin.

“Yes, it is. It’s not some sort of beacon or signal that tells you where to find a Siren though. It’s moreso feeling a pull towards someone. A red string of fate, whatever you want to call it.”

“H-hold on, I’m confused. If two Sirens are near each other and asleep, they can visit this Dreamscape together?”

“Yes. A black lake with a forest around it and a red moon in the sky. Ring a bell?”

A dark night sky looms above you with its scattering of bright stars. Near the center of the indigo sea lies a brilliant red moon; bright in it’s blinding color. Something about the scene is familiar, the clearness of the sky reminds you of something from your past. No clouds, no breeze, no sounds of nightlife.

“Y-yeah, I know it. Um, so when we slept next to each other in Echidna, you saw me in the water?” Seonghwa nods in response, tongue darting out to moisten his lips. “Why did I not see you sooner? Surely we would have been asleep at the same time before that?”

“Hold on. Let me get something.” Seonghwa pulls away from you, and you find yourself missing the warmth of his touch the second he leaves. He climbs off the bed, moving for a bookshelf along the wall that you hadn’t noticed before. His long fingers trail over each spine along the shelves, and he doesn’t stop until he’s collected three books from the shelf. He brings them back to the bed, placing them in the space between the two of you. You eye his hand as it lingers near your knee. The urge to grab hold of it is very present, but you swallow that desire back and try to focus on his voice instead. “These books explain how the Dreamscape works far better than I could. In general though, you have to be in close proximity with a Siren in order to visit the Dreamscape with them. The exact range of this proximity is confusing and unknown. Sometimes you can both be in the Dreamscape but not see each other. It’s a vastly enormous place, and the forest stretches on and on. When I visit, I’m typically alone, so I’ve spent lots of time just running through the forest as far as I can. Back to the books though. Uh, I used these to learn about Sirens. I didn’t have anyone to teach me while growing up, and like you, I only knew what I was because someone told me. Hongjoong has some books on Sirens as well, so if you want more, you could go to him and ask for them.”

“No, no, no. Absolutely not,” you refute immediately. Seonghwa tilts his head to the side at your quick refusal.

“Why not?”

“H-He can’t know. He can’t know that I’m – I’m a Siren. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, and I still don’t know what he intends to do with Sirens when he gets them. I also j-just need time to process the fact that you’re a Siren and that this is even happening because I have always been told to hide myself and not trust anyone.”

Seonghwa’s throat bobs as he swallows roughly, and he maintains his intense stare on you. You find yourself swallowing around nothing as well.

“I don’t know what you’ve been through over the past seven years, Y/N, but I do understand your fears. I was told the same while growing up, told that in real life and in my dreams. Up until I joined the crew. It stopped then, and I know it may not have stopped for you, but I can promise you that Hongjoong does not intend to do anything bad to Sirens. He doesn’t care about killing Sirens or hurting them.”

Suddenly you’re back at the dingy hotel bar in Echidna with the platinum-haired captain beside you, nursing a drink and talking about his intentions and goals.

“It is said that five Sirens together can unlock one of the universe’s most secret and valuable treasures, although no man has ever laid eyes on it or lived to tell anyone where the treasure might be. I want it for myself. I want to find it and be the person who lives to tell the tale.”

Seonghwa continues speaking, and you have to shake yourself out of the memory to focus on what he’s saying.

“You’ve seen what Hongjoong will do to protect his crew. You are part of that crew, Y/N. He will protect you, no matter what. You are not an exception.”

“Because he needs me. He will protect me because he needs me, not because he wants to or cares.”

“He cares about his crew more than anything else.”

“And what would he choose if it came down to choosing his crew or this treasure he’s after? What then?”

“I… I would hope that Hongjoong would choose the crew, but I simply don’t know.” Seonghwa’s voice turns quiet, a hint of frailty in it that has your stomach churning. You let out a scoff.

“That’s not encouragement to tell him what I am.”

Seonghwa’s hand moves from the bed to find yours again. Your breath hitches at the sudden touch, his fingers slipping between yours, and he lifts his chin to look you in the eye.

“What are you afraid of, Y/N? The last time you lost someone, was it because you are a Siren?”

“N-No,” you stammer, shaking your head a little.

“I know that you don’t trust Hongjoong. I want you to trust him, and I wish that I could help you do that, but you have to be the person who tells him that you’re a Siren. You need to take that step and trust him with that when you’re ready.”

“I-I trust you, though.” Seonghwa releases a dry laugh and looks off to the side.

“That doesn’t mean that I should be the person to tell Hongjoong what you are. So, I promise you – swear on my life actually – that I will not tell Hongjoong about you being a Siren.”

“Okay. Okay, yeah, I – thank you.”

Seonghwa offers a small smile, his thumb dragging over the back of your hand, and the overwhelming warmth of his actions hits you square in the chest. The flames on his back suddenly make so much sense. Perhaps that’s why everything about him feels so hot and burning, and maybe the only reason you feel so comfortable with him is because he’s been a Siren all this time. It raises another question in your mind, and this time, you aren’t as shy about voicing it.

“Have you ever known another Siren?”

“I have, yeah. Only one.”

“One of your parents?” You ask, and Seonghwa’s thumb pauses in its motions.

“No, my mother is a Normie, and my father was an Elitist, but I didn’t know him at all. I was the mutation. Got the gene from my maternal grandfather.”

“Mutation,” you echo. “What do you mean by mutation?”

“Sirens can only be born if someone in their bloodline was a Siren. It has to be one of your grandparents though, through second-degree heredity. The gene mutation in a Siren always skips a generation.”

“So… logically, that would mean that it’s possible for there to be more Sirens out there then. More than five, that is.”

“Yes, it’s possible if generations have been skipped.”

“Then why do they say there’s only five left then?”

“There was some mistranslation in some books several years ago. People starting to think that the legends about five Sirens unlocking a treasure meant there were only five left in the universe. It only built up this urgency to get to the treasure with the Sirens or just to have a Siren as a slave to keep others from getting them. The home planet of the Siren race has been ravaged by slavers for so many years that there supposedly aren’t any left.”

“So Hongjoong just wants the treasure. That’s all it’s about to him? Getting some damn treasure?” You aren’t sure where the sudden bout of anger comes from, maybe the idea that if Hongjoong knew what you are, you would be reduced to nothing but a key to some damn treasure. Seonghwa’s lips purse then turn into a delicate frown.

“He puts up a front. There are two reasons why this is so important and crucial to Hongjoong. One that he’s had long before I met him, the other that came about a year and a half ago. It’s not just about the treasure though, even if it seems like it. Whatever he told you about his intentions was most likely a lie. I like to think that I know Hongjoong better than anyone else, and I know that this is important to him in ways that even I couldn’t understand.” Seonghwa’s expression turns melancholy in an instant. The shift happens so quickly that it could give you whiplash, and it seems so out of place compared to what he said.

Silence drapes over the two of you as Seonghwa loses himself further in thought. You don’t know how much time passes, but you don’t want to disturb him, so you just sit tight with your hand still in his. When he finally pulls himself out of thought, he shakes his head and looks up at you.

“Um, the books. You can take them. If you have any questions about them, you can ask me. I’ve read them probably hundreds of times by now, and I always have more if you need them. I need to go sign some papers for Hongjoong, if you’ll be alright on your own.” Seonghwa pushes the books closer to you, but his hand doesn’t leave yours quite yet.

“I think I’ll manage,” you mutter, letting a small smile come to your lips. “Even though you did quite a number on me.”

“I gave you worse when we sparred,” Seonghwa teases, mimicking your smile. His gaze slips from your face down to where your collarbone peeks out, fully exposed thanks to his shirt fitting loosely on your frame. You know what he’s looking at, and a slight flush rises on his cheeks as you catch him staring. “Well, maybe you’re right. I should’ve done worse though.”

You shake your head, refusing to let him have the pleasure of seeing you flustered, and release his hand to pick up the books instead.

“Before you go, Y/N…” Seonghwa calls out. He gets off the bed with you, suddenly towering over you so much that you have to tilt your head back to look at him. “I’m sure you already know, but it’s best if the others don’t know about either of us being a Siren. Hongjoong is the only exception for that.”

“Why?”

“The less people that know means less of a possibility for suspicion. Suppose you’re suddenly going outside the ship with four people around you trying to protect you from harm. In that case, people will notice that you’re someone special. Pirates have a knack for going after special things. Too many people want a Siren, and too many people would go to drastic measures to get one.”

Seonghwa lifts a hand. He seems to want to push the few loose strands of hair away from your face, but he stops himself at the last second and forces a smile instead.

“Let’s keep you safe, yeah?”

…

“Good morning, Yunho,” you greet as you step out of your bedroom to find the healer waiting for you on the other side. It’s nothing out of the ordinary or weird; he makes a habit of meeting you before breakfast so you can walk to the mess hall together, and he claims that it’s also an effort to make sure you actually eat throughout the day. He falls into step beside you as you start to walk down the corridor, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Good morning, Y/N! Sleep alright?” He tilts his head to the side, and you mimic his motions, shrugging your shirt further up. The marks Seonghwa left are far darker this morning, much more noticeable than you anticipated, and the damn shirt keeps sliding down with even the slightest movements. If Yunho notices your awkward shifting, he decides not to comment on it.

“Yeah, I slept well. The medicine helped a lot.”

“I was moreso talking about the hickeys on your neck, but that’s great news too!”

Your heart plummets to your ankles, and Yunho merely grins at you without a care in the world. You duck your head and try to avoid his stare.

“Was it good? Were you safe? Careful? Talk about limits and what’s on or off the table? Sober in the very least?”

“Oh my – Yunho, don’t ask about it,” you plea. Your whole body burns with embarrassment. If Yunho noticed that easily, then there’s no chance you can hide it from anyone else, so you can just hope that the mess hall is empty this morning.

“I am asking as your doctor. I need to make sure that you aren’t doing anything stupid. Did you use protection?”

You press your lips into a thin line and glance over at Yunho. He stares back in silence for a few moments. Then –

“Y/N!” He gasps, smacking your bicep with the backside of his hand. “Do I need to give you basic sex education? Why didn’t you use protection? I know all the crew members are clean, but oh my god, what were you thinking? What was he thinking? I make sure that everyone has protection just in case so why the hell didn’t he use it? Who was it? I’m gonna yell at him.”

“Yunho, please, this is so embarrassing.”

“You’re the one who fucked someone without protection!”

“Could you not scream that maybe?” You press your hands over your face as Yunho’s tone grows louder and louder. You didn’t think it was possible to feel any more embarrassed than you do already, but Yunho is swiftly proving you wrong with each passing second. “I’m clean, and it’s not like I can get pregnant anyway, so it’s really not a big issue. I was sterilized a long time ago.”

“Sterilized? What do you mean?” Yunho’s tone losing all of its teasing nature in an instant. It makes you regret saying anything, especially with the intensity of his stare that won’t leave you. You huff a sigh before elaborating further.

“The military tied my tubes when I turned sixteen. They do it to every female.”

“Not the males as well?”

“They don’t care about men because men don’t get pregnant.” You shrug, more than used to the way the military views and handles their soldiers, but Yunho’s sigh is nothing short of furious. “They can’t have their soldiers getting pregnant, so that’s why they do it. It doesn’t matter if their soldiers get someone else pregnant, because it won’t be their problem. And they need their female soldiers to be able to sleep with anyone on the job without the risk of getting pregnant.”

“That’s awful,” Yunho mutters through a frown.

“I’m okay with it. I’m not someone who wants to get pregnant or have children anyway. My lifestyle simply isn’t suited for it.”

“You still should’ve been given a damn choice,” Yunho hisses. Even though you know that his anger isn’t directed at you, you tense upon hearing his harsh tone. “It’s your body and your life, not the military’s. They don’t own you. The military really has no fucking morals, and neither do whatever doctors operated on you. A good doctor does not operate on any patient without having explicit permission from the patient unless it’s a matter of life or death. But that? You can’t just take away a person’s choice like that.”

“They took a lot of my choices away, Yunho.”

“Does that make it okay?”

You don’t have a response, and it’s good timing at that because you step into the mess hall. It isn’t empty as you had hoped it would be; Jongho and San sit at one of the tables. You want to curl up into a ball and die, but Yunho places a hand on your back and forces you forward until the two of you reach the edge of the table. Jongho slides closer to San, making room for you to sit down beside him, and you slowly lower yourself to the bench. You tug the collar of your shirt further up but can’t know whether you’ve actually hidden the marks or not. Yunho plops down next to you. He’s back to wearing a smile, but it’s strained and uncomfortable to look at, so the information you shared with him obviously upset him quite a bit.

“Where is everyone? It’s never this quiet in the mornings.”

“Wooyoung is still asleep. Yeosang’s in the training room. No clue where Mingi is, though he’s probably with Hongjoong,” San explains, picking mindlessly at the plate of food in front of him. “Jongho made breakfast this morning, so… be careful.”

“Be careful? The fuck are you saying – I am a great cook!” Jongho crosses his arms over his chest, lips furled into a deep frown, and San avoids his glare by smiling over at you. You return the smile immediately.

Just as you’re about to open your mouth and say good morning, San’s gaze flits lower. The sudden deadpan of his features tells you that you most definitely did not properly hide the hickeys. He swallows roughly and returns to pushing his food around the plate. Jongho notices the shift in his mood, turning to glance at you as you tug the collar of your shirt up to your chin. The air at the table has just grown exponentially more awkward, even Yunho pauses to take note of the tension. He narrows his eyes at San then back at you, flipping between the two of you several times before a bout of realization seems to hit him and his eyes grow wide.

“Well, this is fucking awkward,” Jongho remarks through a deep sigh. You twist to smack your fist against his chest.

“You just made it awkward by saying that!” You hiss through gritted teeth.

“Oh shit, we forgot to get our food!” Yunho cuts in, a nervous laugh echoing his remark, and he snags you by the sleeve as he gets up again. You let him pull you along until you’ve reached the buffet bar where Jongho has set out breakfast, then tug your sleeve out of his grip. “Who the fuck did you sleep with?”

You knew the question was coming, but you still aren’t ready for the confrontation. You dodge Yunho’s prying eyes.

“Was it Seonghwa?”

No response.

“Oh my god, it was Seonghwa.” Yunho pulls away from you, mouth agape as he gauges your reaction. Again heat creeps up your neck.

“Shut up and keep quiet,” you mutter. “I don’t want everybody on the fucking ship to know.”

Yunho lifts a brow. He’s biting his lips to keep from smiling, and his thinly veiled attempts to do so are useless because you can see the laughter in his eyes already. He twists, grabbing an apple from the counter rather than anything Jongho made, then tosses the fruit over to you. He keeps his hand up and points at the start of the trail of marks on your neck.

“That was planned. Calculated. Intentional. Clear as day. He definitely put that where someone would see it.” Yunho shakes his head as he grabs another apple, this time for himself. “Damn, so the lieutenant likes marking and is possessive then, huh? Not bad.”

“Just – Yunho, I can’t stand you. Please just keep quiet.”

“Hey! Let me be fascinated by this new information because Lieutenant Stick-Up-His-Ass actually let loose enough to fuck around. That’s practically ground-breaking.”

“I’m just going to keep my mouth shut and hope that you stop talking,” you grumble out, turning to walk back to the table. Your appetite has certainly gone out the window, but you carry the apple with you anyway. If anything, it gives you something to dig your nails into as Yunho continues talking.

“Listen, sex can be great for stress!”

“What the fuck?” Jongho asks, Yunho’s words carrying over the table as you plop back to the bench.

“Shush, Jongho. I’m telling her about the importance of sex – safe sex – as a stress reliever. We’ve all had this talk before.”

“Jongho might need to know how sex works first, Yunho,” San remarks. He cracks a smile and swings an elbow into Jongho’s side. For a moment, you think that his discomfort with seeing the hickeys on your neck is completely gone. Jongho throws an elbow back at San.

“I know how it fucking works!”

“I hate it here,” you mutter as you try to hide your face in your arms.

“Maybe next time we’re off the ship, you could think about mingling for a night, Jongho!” Yunho’s tone is far too cheery. He seems to be having the time of his life while you’re barely managing not to die from embarrassment. “Sex is great for health. The hormones and chemicals that are released during sex can temporarily reduce symptoms of stress and anxiety. It makes you happier and can take your mind off other things. If you hit it pretty hard and go a few rounds, it can be good exercise for your body. And! Sex helps you sleep better at night. So look at that? Benefits left and right.”

San’s clear and high-pitched laughter resounds through the room, and you push your face further against the table.

“Did I hate it here already?” You mutter, voice barely audible over San’s laugh.

“I do too. I wanna leave,” Jongho sighs.

“Hey, stop that, you two! I am doing my job as a doctor and providing options for stress relief, so you don’t keep running out and getting hurt. You could be doing something much safer that doesn’t involve guns or knives. And if anyone ever needs any sort of protection, you guys know that I’ve got plenty in the med bay if you run out. I have options too to suit all sizes.”

You glance up only to scowl at Yunho, and your scowl turns into a full-blown grimace when you notice that he’s making lewd gestures.

“Stop making hand motions when you say shit like that.”

“I use my hands when I talk! How can you tell me to not use my hands?”

“That’s a joke waiting to happen,” Jongho comments. You sit up fully to send a glare his way now, a warning to not make said joke, and Jongho deftly dodges your stare. Everyone has decided to have impeccable timing today, it seems, because as you look at Jongho, you catch sight of Hongjoong and Seonghwa stepping into the mess hall. Mingi walks a little ways behind them, looming over Hongjoong’s shoulder like a tall shadow.

“You can stop talking, Yunho. In fact, you probably should stop talking,” you mutter, slapping Yunho’s arm.

“I can’t believe you. I am just trying to be a good doctor and give good advice, and this is the treatment I get. No respect. None!”

“What are we talking about?” Hongjoong’s voice cuts through Yunho’s, and you all snap your chins up to look at the captain as he comes closer to the table.

“Just sex,” Yunho replies, waving a hand through the air as though it’s totally casual. Hongjoong’s eyes go wide, and he snaps his mouth shut while Seonghwa chokes on air.

“Nevermind, I would actually rather not know. Changed my mind. We have more important things to talk about anyway.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

“Seonghwa mentioned that you’re feeling antsy about being cooped up on the ship. The two of us have meetings with some business partners and other captains for the next five or so days. If anyone wants to leave the ship and spend time on the planet over the next few days, they’re more than welcome to. You know the drill on what to do while out there already, but you’ve all earned some time off.” Hongjoong glances down at Yunho. A soft smile paints his lips, a moment of gentleness that you rarely see in the cruel captain, and Yunho blinks back with his mouth agape.

“T-Thank you, Captain,” he stutters back after a moment of silence. Hongjoong shakes his head and drops a hand to Yunho’s shoulder. There’s an unspoken exchange there, no words needed, and when Hongjoong pulls back, Yunho has a smile stretched over his lips.

“Jongho, I’ve got something for you and Mingi, if you have a minute,” Hongjoong says. Jongho nods and stands up, patting your back a little as he goes, and suddenly you’re left with just San and Yunho. You didn’t even see Seonghwa slip away, but it’s probably for the best that you didn’t because you don’t think you could look him in the eye out of sheer embarrassment.

A Siren. Just like you.

Then there’s that, which is significantly less awkward and shouldn’t change anything between the two of you. You tried to read through one of the books he gave you last night, and while it did explain the whole bloodline and gene mutation part, you didn’t learn much that Seonghwa hadn’t told you when you spoke. Perhaps the little nagging part in the back of your mind just wants to sit and listen to Seonghwa explain it all instead.

“Do you two want to come with me to town? I’m itching to get off the ship.” Yunho turns to you, glancing over at San out the corner of his eye as he speaks.

“Sure, I’m already dressed to go now, if you two are,” San responds, sitting up straight and pushing his tray of food further towards the center of the table. “We really need to get a better cook or teach Jongho how to properly cook.”

“Eh, I mean, it looks half-burnt. Better than fully burnt, right?” Yunho eyes the food with a grimace on his face. He’s being kind at best when he says it’s only half-burnt, because it definitely looks wholly burnt to you. “What about you, Y/N? You down?”

“Y-Yeah, sure,” you relent with a shaky sigh.

It’s fine. It’ll be fine. Yunho and San will be there. They’ll keep you safe. It’s only a small town. The military isn’t here. It is going to be just fine.

Your confidence about going outside the ship is dropping by the second, especially as the three of you start walking towards the main airlock. You can’t shake the overwhelming tsunami of anxiety that hits you all at once. Yunho grabs hold of your sleeve and tugs you back a little. San continues to walk on even when you and Yunho slow your pace.

“I’m happy you decided to come along, Y/N,” Yunho says, a soft smile playing at his lips. “This is a huge step so, I’m proud. You’re doing well.”

I’m proud.

You’re doing well.

It doesn’t provide the comfort that Yunho is aiming for, but you don’t want him to feel bad about it, so you plaster a smile across your lips.

“For now, I just want you to try relaxing and enjoying yourself as best you can.”

“I’ll try,” you reply. Yunho beams back at you. The sight of his smile provides far more comfort than his words did. You watch him jog to catch up with San and sling an arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, a laugh bursting through his lips. Too much is happening all at once, but it finally hits you that maybe sleeping with Seonghwa the first time wasn’t the best idea. You already knew that, but it really smacks you in the chest with the force of a typhoon now because as you look at San’s back, all you can envision is the conflicted expression that crossed his features when he saw the marks along your neck.

Needless to say, you don’t pay attention to the town or Yunho once you finally get there. You most certainly are not relaxing or enjoying yourself, because thoughts of San consume you. You can admit that the scenery of the small town is nice and quaint. No guards or military in sight either, which provides a tremendous amount of relief, but every passing glance causes anxiety to bubble in your gut more and more. Yunho carries on without a care in the world, flitting from stall to stall and looking at everything under the sun. San humors him a bit by commenting on some of the things Yunho picks up, but after a while, San falls into step with you and walks beside you in silence. Even like this, it’s quite obvious that the two of you are holding each other at arm’s length and refusing to commit to anything. That bothers you more than it should.

With Seonghwa, everything seems to flow and go smoothly. From the minute you met, it’s been that way. Perhaps it can all be boiled down to the fact that you’re both Sirens, and that is what makes your relationship feel so comfortable and simple. But with San, you can’t catch a break. You know you are primarily at fault for that, because it’s your decisions that have caused this heightened awkwardness right now. More than that though, it’s so difficult to get past your head with San. You know he’s in the same predicament himself.

San is the one who breaks the silence between the two of you. He waits until you’ve made a resting spot of a random bench that looks out into the town’s square. Yunho is still in sight; he wanders around with wide eyes and a smile, perfectly content on his own as he talks to the townspeople. San shifts beside you but maintains the awkward distance between your bodies on the bench.

“Y-You shouldn’t… uh, you shouldn’t feel embarrassed or awkward about sleeping with anyone.”

Of course, he had to start a conversation there. You squeeze your eyes shut. San’s gaze is on you – the sheer intensity of it practically burns your skin – but you can’t bring yourself to look back.

“It’s perfectly natural, and something that used to happen on a daily basis back when the crew was bigger.” Except, San’s tone won’t commit. He’s holding back, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible when you both know that he doesn’t truly think it’s okay.

“I’m sorry,” you spit out without any further hesitation. You snap your eyes open and look over at San. His lips are parted in shock, tongue dragging over the corner of his lips before he recovers and closes his mouth again. You continue. “I know that I was looking for some way to cope with what happened in Echidna b-but that doesn’t mean I should’ve done that or asked him to do that. I – uh, I feel guilty for leading you on in a way. I shouldn’t have done that.”

San forces a smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes, and seeing that is almost worse than the deadpan look he gave you earlier.

“I have no expectations when it comes to you, Y/N,” he whispers, tone hardly audible over the din of the town. “I know what we are and what we aren’t. And I know that in the long run, I wouldn’t be good for you. I’m hardly good for you short term as it is.”

You dart a hand out to grab his wrist, fingers closing around the skin. San inhales sharply and looks down at your hand.

“That’s not true, San.” He shakes his head even as you speak.

“I don’t want you to feel guilty, and I don’t want to make you feel like you’ve done something wrong. In my eyes, you haven’t. If I could go back in time, I would prevent that kiss. At the moment, it felt nice, and I thought it’s what I wanted and needed. But it was something else. I know it isn’t what you intended for it to be, but I meant for it to be a goodbye kiss. Even though I didn’t deserve it, I thought I could be selfish and take that much.”

“A goodbye kiss?” You echo. The pit in your stomach grows larger by the second. “What do you mean by goodbye, San?”

“I don’t want to be a downer on our day off,” he says as he tugs his wrist away from you.

“San.” He dares to look over at you. “San, when you went to the warehouse,… was your intention to d-die?”

The soft-sided and melancholy smile that blossoms over his lips is one that will haunt you.

“I was at peace with it because I thought it was the only way out of the guilt and the pain. And then – then you showed up, then you were in a chair across from me, and I couldn’t let you die. I couldn’t die because you were there. Because I needed to protect you and save you. I didn’t want to tell you when we talked about it the first time because I felt – felt like a failure and weak for thinking that that was my only option. Like I manipulated you in some way or made you pity me for what I went through. And that the only reason you opened up to me or kissed me was because I tricked you into doing so. Even admitting it now, it feels like some sort of emotional manipulation. Before you say anything, I know it’s not. My brain just won’t let me accept it. I’m working through it with Yunho; I see Yunho every day, and we talk about how I’m feeling. But… I feel bad for leaving things awkward between us, I don’t want to drag you down or slow whatever progress you have by not being able to progress myself. So when I say that you shouldn’t feel guilty for sleeping with someone, I mean it. I was never expecting anything beyond a goodbye kiss, yet you let me live. We both have things to work through, but because of what we went through together, we can’t work through it together. At least not right now. I really don’t have any expectations of you. I just have a lot for himself.”

“I…” Your voice dies too soon, and even though you know what you want to say, it’s so difficult to get it out. You blink at the street under your feet, taking a deep heave of air before trying to speak again. “Not once did I ever feel like you were manipulating me. I never pitied you for what you went through. You didn’t trick me into doing or saying anything. It was all by choice, and it was all my choice. I see myself in you really. And now that Cara is dead, I’m afraid to face you because I’m afraid to see you become the person that I became. Maybe somehow, I think that just by being near you, I’ll turn you into who I am now. I-I hate myself so much that it hurts to think about you becoming that or seeing yourself that way. If I can’t save myself, then I at least want to save you. I’ve lost too many people to lose you too. And some part of me thinks that if I push you away, it’ll do some good or do something to save you.”

San releases a dry laugh, head thrown back, and he blinks up at the cloudy grey sky above your heads.

“We really are the same,” he murmurs. He tilts his head and looks you in the eye. You still completely under his stare. “It may be selfish, but I don’t want you to push me away. I would rather be hurt and still have you in my life rather than to be perfectly fine without you.”

✧✧✧ a/n: hI im here oasdmfaisgjiogj geez this one took longer than expect mostly bc the outline was longer than expected and aaaaaaaa im not as confident in this one as i usually am but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless ;-;

if you would like to, you can take the survey here!

taglist: @faeriewoobin​​ @sugarrimajins​​ @atinyinwonderland​​ @2504-life @lil7bluedragon​​ @sparklychangbin​​ @jeong-uwu​​ @jeonartemis​​ @anothershorthuman​​ @xxbluestrifexx​​ @yayhei​​ @haotheheckk​​ @noonawriter​​ @lostscenarios​​ @nlost21​​ @mirror-juliet​​ @okokokok123-45​ @purple-aeon​

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[sepublic]

Analyzing Ordinary

I notice how she looks at me

But I pretend that I don’t see

It’s easier if I let the tension subside

           We’ve got Luz being willfully ignorant of Amity’s longing looks, no doubt because she doesn’t want to get her hopes up, as if Amity would be interested in someone like HER, because Luz still has her issues of self-loathing, of inadequacy… And combined with how much she thinks the world of her friends, she probably sees all of them as being too good for her! Not to mention letting the tension subside could allude to the idea of Luz letting Amity confront her feelings at her own pace, not to mention any reservations about falling in love because she doesn’t want Amity to reciprocate and get in trouble with her parents for it…

I’ve seen it in the books I read

A magic that you cannot see

There’s no limitations

They wear it with pride

But the characters I read never act or look like me

I can’t depend on them to lead me through the right door

           Luz has read about it in The Good Witch Azura, not just the idea of being in love, but no doubt a brave and defiant love against what others have to say, and against one’s self-doubts! But Luz not only doesn’t think of herself as being as cool or confident as Azura… But she also knows from firsthand experience that she can’t project her book’s fantasies onto real life, that it’s gotten her into trouble in the past and almost jeopardized relationships!

          Luz is afraid that maybe she’s just projecting her books onto her relationship with Amity, imagining romance where there isn’t, and is thus setting herself up for disappointment and possibly making Amity uncomfortable… And even if she SHOULD follow the books’ advice this one time, is Luz good enough to be like Azura, when she knows that in the end she isn’t? Not to mention ‘door’ could be a reference to the portal back home, and Luz feels like if she gets caught up in fantasy and/or following romance as the Azura books guide her to, she won’t ever go back to her ‘rightful place’ in the human world!

And what’s the point of falling when I know I’m only stalling

Cause I have to go back home

Where I’m just one in the herd

Tripping over my words

Trying hard to go with the grain

Keeping the quirks in my brain

           There’s the obvious allusion of Luz being resigned to the idea of going back to the human world, because as of now she hasn’t yet aired the idea of simply… staying behind in the Boiling Isles, because she feels beholden to her mother Camila, about whether or not she’d approve, not wanting to reject Camila –especially if Camila makes Luz choose- etc. Not to mention, there’s a pretty obvious reference to Luz being neurodivergent, but at the same time…

           I feel this could ALSO apply to ideas of classism, and the Blight Parents’ elitist attitudes! How Luz is probably telling herself that she isn’t good enough for someone of such higher social standing as Amity, someone who was born above her, has worked harder and has ‘proper’ magic… Luz knows her ‘real family’ is either with Camila, or with Eda and the others; It’s not amongst the upper echelons of the Boiling Isles hierarchy, where Amity lives. Luz doesn’t see herself as fitting in with Amity, and she doesn’t want to jeopardize Amity’s life by having the girl fall in love with a ‘commoner’ like her… Especially since Amity is so much more talented, right?

          Plus, Amity is aiming to join the Emperor’s Coven, while Luz is actively defying Belos and even fought and wounded him! What if they end up on opposite sides of this conflict, with opposing ideals and beliefs…? Luz doesn’t believe in the Coven System, so why fall for someone who’s going to help enforce it? Those are Amity’s beliefs, not her own… Luz has to stick up for what she knows and believes in, especially after what she and her friends have been through! Not that Amity can be personally blamed for choosing the Emperor’s Coven, but at the same time…

I’m on the brink of discovery I think

But what if I’m dreaming

That’s what it seems like

           There’s Luz, discovering her own self-worth, that she’s a lovable person… Discovering actual romantic love with someone she knows, discovering what Amity truly feels like deep down… But on the other hand, maybe she’s just projecting again, or being too wishful? Maybe it’s just like Adegast’s illusions.

Cause this girl thinks I’m part of her world

And that new territory’s scary

If I turn a handle

Am I asking for a scandal?

Should I try to be ordinary?

           ‘World’ could refer to the Boiling Isles, but it could also refer to Amity’s life in general and her social circles, etc. How Amity thinks Luz really is worth it and good enough for her, risking what her parents have to say! And sometimes Luz isn’t sure if she belongs in either the human world OR the Demon Realm… The idea of being in a romantic relationship is new and unusual to Luz, as is the idea of exploring a crush that could be reciprocated, but also rejected!

          Luz is also worried of the ‘scandal’ that will be caused, not just for the potential rift and embarrassment that will ensue if she’s wrong, but again, because she doesn’t want Amity to get in trouble with her parents for falling in love with a ‘lowly human’, a sentiment Luz may secretly, at least partially, agree with. So, should Luz try to be ‘ordinary’, stick with her own ‘level’ of people? Stop trying to project and fantasize and be realistic about the situation?

          Not to mention, Amity aims to be a part of the Emperor’s Coven Luz is so against… What if when trying to be with Amity and be good enough for her, Luz gets wrapped up in the Coven System, and falls for its propaganda and elitist ideals? She doesn’t like the Emperor’s Coven and doesn’t want to join it to be with Amity… Can Luz still love Amity while still being so distinctly her own, separate person from everything else that the Blight girl is and aims to be?

          And of course, handle… The ‘handle’ to a door, perhaps the portal leading to the demon realm? If Luz continues to stay in the Demon Realm, is she just asking for trouble? If she heads back to the human world, does she end up crushing Amity’s heart? And perhaps the ‘door’ isn’t referring to the portal, but simply the door to Amity’s own world in the Blight Manor.

mmBAAAAAAAAH!

           Classic Luz noise.

I’ve always been a little odd

The only pea inside the pod

That’s not an expression I’m guessin’

Oh well

           We have Luz not fitting in, not just back home, but also in the Boiling Isles as a human who can’t perform magic the conventional way, as an outsider to the Coven System, AND Luz also not being of the ‘upper caste’ that the Blights belong to. Only pea, only human, only child, etc. Luz is making up words and expressions, she’s always had a unique way of expressing herself, and if the current ways don’t do a sufficient job of capturing herself, then Luz will MAKE her own method of properly expressing who she is! Just as she found a way to do Magic without bile!

See that’s exactly what I mean!

I’m just as awkward as I seem!

Plus she makes me nervous

I hope she can’t tell

           Again, Luz’s self-loathing is coming back into play, she’s good at hiding her own insecurities at times, but in the end, while she’s learned and grown so much… Sometimes, the trauma of years of isolation still comes back to bite her. Not to mention, Luz remembering that she doesn’t fit in with Amity’s ‘people’, getting mad at herself for not living up to a certain standard imposed by either society or herself for her friends… Etc. Then we have Luz being nervous about all of the other stuff I’ve mentioned beforehand, and she doesn’t want Amity to notice, not just because having your feelings known is mortifying, but she also needs to be the girl’s ‘fearless champion’!

           Not to mention the allusions to Adventures in the Elements and how Luz acted then… Luz is nervous about messing up when she really DOES want another friend, romantic or otherwise! To Luz, she’s already messed up and hurt Amity’s feelings before, and after Amity gave her another chance when she didn’t have to, Luz doesn’t want to appear weak or make Amity doubt in her decision… She wants to validate Amity’s trust by being worthy of her love! Like, she knows the girl already had self-doubt issues already. This is the closest thing she has to a fresh start since the Abomination Incident and Luz wants it to be GOOD.

What is it she sees in this cluster clump of me

Or could it maybe be I’m going crazy?

           Once more we have Luz defaulting back to seeing herself as a freak and not being good enough for Amity, especially after all of the times Luz has blamed herself for hurting Amity’s feelings! She doesn’t want to hurt Amity, and that’s even assuming Amity is actually interested in her at all to begin with!

And hey who am I kidding?

This isn’t some sweet beginning

Just a detour to the end!

           Once more, we have Luz remembering she needs to go back to the human world/her place in society. None of this is permanent, she has other places she ‘belongs’ to, and it’s certainly not by Amity’s side, even if Amity is always welcome around her… This as far as Luz’s relationship with Amity will go, especially given what the Blight Parents have to say!

[Repeat]

Do I rewind? Induce amnesia?

Pretend I didn’t see her?

Succumb to stupid fear?

           We’ve got the obvious callback to Little Miss Perfect, which really ties up how Luz and Amity are two sides of the same coin, but are ALSO struggling with the same issues with coming forward, because they don’t see themselves as good enough for the other, wonder what the other sees in them, if they’re just delusional and/or projecting, not to mention their different places in society and how they’ll both go towards different directions… And it’s silly, these girls are afraid of the same thing and it just goes to show that they really need to believe in themselves more! But it’s also sad, because again, self-loathing. Then we have ‘stupid fear’, which could be a callback to Grometheus, with Luz not facing the challenge of being frank to Camila about where she truly feels at home, ergo she decides to instead just go along with what Camila says, rather than face her fears!

Or just believe in my heart?

Why play a part?

Why follow the herd?

Why not trust in my words?

Don’t wanna go with the grain!

Why try to make myself plain!

I’m on the brink of rediscovery I think!

So what if I’m dreaming?

I like the scene that I’m in!

           Finally, we have Luz practicing self-love and belief in herself! Why bother playing a part, in either the human world or the Coven System (especially since she already attacked Belos)?! She’s defying her previous doubts about where she ‘really’ belongs, because Luz belongs with those she loves and vice-versa, and no social class will stand in the way of that! And if Luz can trust in her words to cheer up and inspire others, if they can trust in what Luz has to say… Maybe she can finally take her own advice to heart for herself?

           So why bother? Why bother trying to stick to her place in society, why not stand out and reach a hand to where Amity is, not just to be with her, but to ALSO be a powerful Witch in her own right! Luz is rediscovering who she is, her placement in this world, her relationship back home and with her mother, her feelings towards Amity and vice-versa, magic in general… There’s so much more to do and explore, why go back on that now? She’s always been a curious soul!

           And so what if Luz is dreaming? Even if one needs to be wary of confusing dreams with reality, it’s important to still have SOME fantasies, that sometimes it’s not about being realistic or being pragmatic, or doing the ‘useful’ thing, it’s about pursuing who you want to be and being happy with it! That’s what Eda taught her, and we see how unhappy Willow was when trying to be in the Abomination Track with its ‘more opportunities’.

          Not to mention, this line could also be in defiance to how the Reality Check summer camp and others before have accused Luz of being delusional, of no doubt being too much in her head and hyper-fixations… But what’s wrong with that, really? What’s wrong with being neurodivergent, and passionate into one’s interests? Luz likes the Boiling Isles, she likes her friendship with Amity, she likes who she is and she doesn’t care what others have to say! If she can defy Belos, she can defy the Blight Parents!

And this girl is a part of this world

The thought of being normal’s far more scary

I’ll be brave and I’ll be kind

I’ll make a choice and change my mind

I will mess up all the time

They’ll say I’m weird but I’ll be fine

I’ll be anything but ordinary!

           Once more, Luz sees Amity is not just a part of the Boiling Isles, but a part of the found family she feels happy and accepted in! After seeing what conformity has done to others, after witnessing what it was like back home, the idea of losing all that is too much for Luz! Luz will be brave, not just for others but for herself, she’ll be her OWN fearless champion!

          She’ll make a decision and change her mind on herself as a lowly person who isn’t worth it, as someone who needs to go back to the human world… Plus, Amity’s ‘world’ could also be her place with the Blight Parents and the Emperor’s Coven, which Luz KNOWS is toxic for her, and she’s seen what it does to others- So if she’s so against the system for this, why not go in and try to save Amity from it as well?

          Amity being brainwashed like your typical EC witch is far scarier than any pain of rejection that Luz may have; She needs to do this for Amity, too! Being in subservience to her parents and/or Belos is NOT something Amity deserves, and as her fearless champion, Luz will protect Amity!

           And Luz knows she’ll make mistakes. She knows she’ll ‘mess up’ in the sense that she’s neurodivergent, that she won’t be doing things the proper way for either world she’s a part of… That things will be messy, that she’ll do the ‘impractical’ thing and go by her emotions, instead of just being ‘smart’ and keeping her head down, and not defying the natural order or whatever.

           She’ll make mistakes, and that’s okay, Luz isn’t a terrible person just because she isn’t perfect, that yes she HAS hurt Amity in the past, but that doesn’t mean she can’t make a change, especially not when she’s already done so much for Amity otherwise, especially not when even someone like Lilith can begin making amends! Not to mention, mistakes are an outlet for learning… Luz is learning not to be overly-critical of herself, as she was no doubt taught by a school system that punished her neurodivergence.

           Luz knows that she’ll never be ‘perfect’, that even if she does improve herself, she’ll still screw up here or there in her relationships and whatnot… But if she can be forgiving of the mistakes of others, why not her own? Especially when others feel the same! And others may say she’s weird, but you know what? Considering others’ ideas of what conformity means, maybe that’s a good thing!

          And Luz has always known that her rightful place wasn’t with ‘the herd’, but with her own weird, outcast group of weirdoes! It’s who she really is, and being weird is Luz embracing herself and her identity! Quite frankly… She’ll be anything but ordinary, because whatever she is, whatever the potential she has, and there’s SO MUCH of it…

          It’s definitely not going to be the person she used to be, or who others wanted to be! And even if Amity doesn’t reciprocate her romantic feelings, well. Luz still learned to defy a ‘natural order’ in the end, as she always will! She’ll still be friends with Amity. And she’ll still be someone who can believe in herself, so why not? Why NOT give it a try?

[calciumcryptid]

{ Rät by Penelope Scott Written from the Perspective of Hitoshi Shinsou }

I come from sadists and salients and men who think they're gods

They lack apologies, ideologies, and complex philosophies

They experiment and sacrifice in the name of public good

They taught me everything, as much as society could

And you were atypical and abnormal, but you achieved success

God damn, I admired you, your scarves, your quirk, and your lack of tech

I studied combat because I wanted to do something great like you

The real tragedy is that half of it was true

But you've become so defeatist, so elitist, you're as flawed as any other hero

And your bullshit has gone rogue, but it won't dictate my self-worth

Still, I took the opportunity 'cause I trusted you, now it tastes like dogshit

Your proposal was immodest and insane

And I hope someday karma rides your fuckin' train

I trusted you, I trusted you, I trusted you, it's true

I wanted to be you and do what you do

I lived here, I loved here, I looked up to you

I feel so stupid, and so used

I feel so used

I was your prodigy, your mastermind, the class pet in your heroics class

And I am a villainous quirk dream, born and raised to kick your enemies ass

I fell for voice modulators, cat cafes, the inheritance of your scarves

If you had only been what I dreamed you were

When I said take me under your wing, I never meant leave your class alone

I thought if students learned your ways, it meant that more of us could go

But I don't want to graduate, if they'll just be another fame clogged brain

For us to get overshadowed by, and for us to turn to history

But you've become so defeatist, so elitist, you're as flawed as any other hero

And your bullshit has gone rogue, but it won't dictate my self-worth

Still, I took the opportunity 'cause I trusted you, and why would you lie?

And then I realized that you're just as naïve as I am

Oh, you're so traumatized it makes me want to cry

You dumb bitch

I trusted you, I trusted you, I trusted you, it's true

I wanted to be you and do what you do

I lived here, I loved here, I bought it, it's true

I'm so embarrassed, I feel abused

Well I don't want to purge the flashy quirks, I'd have to purge their heroes first

And my tuition's paid by blood, so I might deserve your fate or worse

But I don't need your damn counsel, I don't need jack shit from you

So when I speak, you bet your life my words are true

Let me level with you, man, as someone guilty of the game

I took the advice, I took the cash, I would've taken your last name

So if any teen on Earth should get to make a call about this, it should be me

And as I see it, you're a dick

So fuck your scarves, fuck your quirk, fuck your lack of tech, fuck your scarves again

You promised you'd be All Might, but you're just another Endeavor

'Cause All Might mended a dream, all you ever broke were spirits

I can't believe you tore your class apart

With the very same ideals that could have been their brand new start

And the worst part is

I loved you, I loved you, I loved you, it's true

And sometimes I feel like I still fuckin' do

I lived here, I loved here, I bought it, it's true

I'm so embarrassed, I feel abused

I feel so used

I feel so used

Take me under your wing

'Cause I feel so used

I feel so used

{ Taglist }

@floof-ghostie @insomniac-jay @pizzolisnacks

[angstyaches]

Come Back to Me Pt.1

Follow up to Rin and Felix meeting at a park bench for the exchange of money and a Ouija board. Actual whump/sickness in this one, as Shayne's bad habits catch up on him. Part Two will be from Charlie’s POV.

CW: panic, nausea, dizziness, fainting, no emeto, hunger/disordered eating mention

Swallow the World, Halloween: Part 3

Shayne was sitting on the picnic table with his feet on the bench, and Charlie was sitting on the bench with his back against the table. Shayne had never seen him sitting with one leg crossed over his knee before. Relaxed. Confident, maybe. He might have looked slightly intimidating if he wasn’t wearing a bright yellow jumper. Or if he didn’t keep tapping his pink smoothie against Shayne’s leg.

“Piss off, I’m not touching that thing.”

“Damn it, Shayne!” Charlie laughed. “I asked for soy yoghurt specifically so you could try it. I threw dairy under the bus for you.”

Shayne sighed. Fuck’s sake. “Give it here.”

He took a small sip through the straw. At first, all he could feel was an icy stab in his throat and chest. He closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth, drawing the warm, early autumn air into his lungs.

“There’s no way it’s that bad.”

“It’s just fucking cold. Reminds me of –” Demons sliding down my throat. “Y’know.”

“Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

Shayne was ready for the cold on the second sip, and the tart strawberry flavour made his cheeks tingle. The acidity was still sharp on the way down, but pleasant in the same way as splashing your face with cold water. There was also a sweetness he wasn’t used to, but wasn’t put off by either.

“Yeah, okay, that’s actually nice,” he admitted as he handed the cup back to Charlie, whose eyes brightened.

“You want some more?”

“No way. It’s yours.”

Charlie didn’t push it, but he still looked pleased with himself. He looked away in favour of gazing out across the park, at the sunshine lazily casting shadows through the yellow leaves. He let his finger hover close to the top of the straw, twirling it gently with his telekinesis without even looking, but that wasn’t what had Shayne’s attention.

He was examining the silver possession scar that curved around Charlie’s neck, invisible to the most people, but a clear mark for a demon killer. For Shayne. He felt a little light-headed with frustration at the fact that they still hadn’t made any progress with getting that demon out of Charlie. That he hadn’t made any.

It also felt a little strange to be taller than Charlie for once. Shayne wondered what would happen if he slid across the table, just a little to the left, and rested his head against Charlie’s. Imagining the smell of his hair from that close made Shayne’s own hair stand on end, and didn’t help with the slight dizziness.

A light whistling sound rushed past his ears. Echolocation; softer and more elegant than it usually sounded, but still unmistakable.

“You hear that?” he asked tightly. No. No, there was no way… He’d only been gone from the house a few hours; Madelyn and Watson wouldn’t care about that. Not enough to follow him all the way to the city.

Charlie looked up at him. “Hear what?”

That was when Shayne spotted him; a familiar figure across the park, sitting alone at another picnic table. His golden complexion and ridiculous clothes would have made him stand out anywhere, not to mention those glowing yellow eyes.

“Fuck.” Shayne hopped down and sat next to Charlie.

“Whoa - what is it?”

Shayne pulled his friend’s shoulder so that they were both turned and leaning towards the table. Shayne was hyper-aware of Charlie’s flesh and bone hidden under his clothes, how real and solid he was. How breakable. Shayne felt like his insides were slowly tightening, pushing more and more pressure up into his skull.

He blinked as Charlie’s hand rested against his cheek, tilting his head to make their eyes lock. “Come back to me. Shayne, you look so... When did you last eat something?”

Shayne couldn’t remember, but he also couldn’t see the relevance of the question. All he could think of were vampires elitists so desperate to rid the world of demons that they would set a trap for the kindest, most amazing –

“Th-the –” Fuck. Why was his voice so shaky? Why were Charlie’s eyes so blue, and why was he seeing four of them? Shayne tried to focus, lowering his head to his hand when the dizziness didn’t pass. “The – the guy on the bench over there, can you – can you quickly check if he’s looking at us?”

Charlie laughed gently. “What? Why would he be –?”

“Just – please.”

“Who, the guy in the suspenders? I don’t think so. He’s just – wait.”

“Wait?” Shayne’s breath suddenly felt like it wasn’t going all the way to his lungs. He clutched the side of his head. “Wait what?”

“He’s looking over at Rin, and – and the guy she’s with.”

Shayne looked up and saw Charlie’s lips move again, but couldn’t remember if he’d replied before leaning back and getting to his feet. He couldn’t remember how he made it so far across the park with his head feeling so floaty, his legs so shaky, his thoughts so detached.

Elliott intercepted him before he got to the side of the park where Rin was sitting. He called out his name a few times before tearing ahead, turning, and shoving Shayne backwards. Shayne stumbled but managed to catch himself, adrenaline clearing his head a little.

“Why the fuck are you here?” Shayne growled. “And who the fuck is Rin talking to?”

“Try and stay calm, alright?” Elliott raised his eyebrows. “You want a repeat of what happened with us last time?”

Remembering the agony of being punched by Elliott made Shayne almost gag. He stretched his jaw and tried to steel himself. “If she gets hurt, Elliott, I’ll – I’ll put you in the ground, whether you’re dead or not. You and your little friend.”

“Seriously, watch yourself, Shayne.” Elliott’s eyes darkened as he bared his fangs, which Shayne had seen rip open the ribs of a deer. “No one’s gotta get hurt here, man, let’s just –”

Shayne stepped forward, tightening his fists. “Let’s just nothing, you son of a bitch.”

“Shayne?” Charlie took hold of Shayne’s arm from behind.

Shayne froze up before he could even think about where to hit Elliott first. Charlie’s hold wasn’t strong, but it still made the wrong chemicals fire in Shayne’s brain, and he had to choke back the instinct to lash out.

He shivered as he realised Charlie was seeing him this angry. The rampageous energy leaked from his limbs and his heartrate dropped, though the panic was still screaming in his head. It was like his body was forgetting the danger while his brain fixated on it.

Elliott nodded over Shayne’s shoulder. “Who’s your friend?”

Shayne stepped right between Charlie and Elliott. He reached back with his trembling free hand, shivering again when he felt Charlie take it. He wasn’t sure anymore if all of this holding was purely for Charlie’s benefit.

“You – you don’t go near him, Elliott,” he breathed. “You don’t even look at him.”

“Okay, relax, man.” Elliott nodded, careful not to break eye contact again. “You want to tell me what you’re so worked up about?”

“How about the fact that you’re here,” Shayne said, “while our friend is meeting someone she’s never met before –?”

The way Elliott’s eyes glistened caught Shayne’s attention. No, this was no coincidence. There was a member of the Aldridge clan that Shayne had never met, and the hooded seller had to be them. The confirmation settled like cement in his stomach.

“The Aldridges planned – planned all of – all of this,” he muttered. Shit, why couldn’t he get his voice to come out any damn louder? Everything was coming out in such short, pathetic bursts. “Unless – unless this goes all the way – all the way back to –”

“Shayne, listen,” Elliott said. “Me and Fee didn’t have a choice in this. Besides, isn’t this something you needed, to help your friend?”

Shayne shook his head, wanting to draw Charlie a little closer behind him, but realising he couldn’t get any closer. His shoulders were already pressed against Charlie’s chest, and most of his weight already seemed to be taken into Charlie’s arms. 

Charlie was holding him.

“Shayne, look,” Charlie said, moving one hand to rest on Shayne’s waist. “I can see Rin, and she’s just talking to the guy. She’s fine, if you just look.”

“He’s right.” Elliott’s face was swimming in and out of focus. “My boy would never hurt a fly.”

“Then why all the secrecy? Mad- Madelyn…” Shayne didn’t mean for it to be a whisper, but it was. 

He’d wanted to make Elliott tell him whether or not Madelyn had orchestrated this, if she knew Shayne had been hoarding demons in jars, if she knew about Charlie. 

God, he felt so weird. 

The weight of the panic in his stomach made him feel like he was going to throw up, but all that came out of him were mumbled fragments of thoughts that burned whitely in his head. “Mads and Watson, they – they found the - they know about – don’t they? They – they’re going to… Charlie?”

“Yeah? I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“They – they’re…” They’re going to hurt you, they’re going to kill you, they’re going to make you go away, they’re going to –

“Shayne?” Charlie whimpered.

The last thing he remembered thinking was that Charlie must have abandoned his smoothie somewhere, because there was no way he’d be able to hold it and catch Shayne on his way to the ground.

[dicecast]

Blast to the Past: What is the Appeal of Fallout

Ok so last time we covered why people are really into the Baldur’s Gate series, which sort of invented most of the CRPG genre (Ultimia is very sad right now).,  Now for the other major Isometric game series, which launched one of the most influential series in Gaming history, I speak of course of Fallout.  

Now I haven’t played Fallout since I was a kid because I remember the interface being extremely frustrating compared to BG (which like...that is saying something) but what people love about Fallout is primarily the story and the roleplaying.  So what makes Fallout 1 so appealing 

1) The post Apocalyptic genre, Fallout and Road Warrior probably define the aesthetic of that genre more than any other, and if that is your jam, then Fallout is for you, it is not just post-apocalyptic but it is deeply interested in the tropes and conventions of that genre.  Now Cards on the Table this is actually a minus for me, I’m more of a fantasy man myself but diversity of genre is good so this likely makes fans of the genre very happy, especially since this game has done more for the genre to anything since Road Warrior 

2) Classless system.  Fallout doesn’t have classes, instead it has a very elaborate system of mechanical perks, stats, traits and skills, each of which can change a lot in how you play the game and express your character.  You have a low more flexibility in building your character than the more rigid focus of Classes+stats+skills of D&D, though personally I prefer Character from Mechanics rather than Mechanical from character.  However you want classless roleplaying, Fallout starts the Computer trend 

3) Social as a real option.   I think today people overestimate this in regards to fallout and seem to imagine that you can talk every enemy down, and that really isn’t the case, but certainly  for the time Fallout was far more evolved in terms of social dynamics than Baldur’s Gate, and a social character is entirely viable.  Critically you can defeat the final boss entirely through dialogue options.  

4) Dialogue options are more like puzzles.   Hbomerguy pointed this out in an earlier critique of Fallout 3 but I think it is worth repeating, in Fallout winning at dialogue options isn’t as simple as just finding the option with “Speechcraft 67″ written next too it.  If you want to defeat The Master, you don’t just need a high Speech, you also need to have found the information necessary to change his mind (specifically that the Super Mutants are sterile), external evidence of said proof, and you also need to carefully pick the dialogue options to do so. Your high Speech and Int only open the door for you to be able to defeat him, you still need to have done your own research, asked other people questions, and brought evidence with you, which makes choosing the right option much more satisfying than just saying “you are wrong and I have 100 Speechcraft) 

5) Variable play experience.  This is true of all RPGS, if I play a male Dwarf Cleric in BG II and a male human wizard I am going to have different interactions but most of fights will be similar.  But if you choose the “Jinxed” Trait at the start of Fallout, which basically dramatically increases everybody’s chance of Critical failure (including your enemies) the entire game is utterly different and a horrific  tragicomedy   of needless violence.  But if you take this combined with 9 or 10 luck, then you will fail less and everybody else will fail more.  It totally changes the nature of the game.  If you choose the Empathy Perk, then bad dialogue options are highlighted in Red so you know not to pick them.  If you choose Mysterious Stranger perk, a Clint Eastwood ripe off will sometimes show up to help you out in combat out of no where and then leave just as quickly.  

6) Negative effects from stats.  If you have a 3 charisma in BG, your party members will fight more, you will get worse rewards for quests, and you will get worse prices, but your dialogue options will largely remain the same.  You won’t get the special bonus dialogue options open to high charisma characters, but you basically have the “default” dialogue options at all times.  If you aren’t a caster, there really isn’t too much of a downside for having a low Int in BG, you are much weaker to mindflayers, as logn as you have some smarties in the party you should be fine.  Not so in Fallout.  If you play a low Int character, you are barely capable of speech so you have unique dialogue options and the game is totally different.  Its objectively worse and kinda sucks but there is a lot of comedy gold in playing an absolute moron.  Later games will pick up on this more, with New Vegas taking the cake with your own brain attempting to quit from you in protest.  

(This is from fallout II but the point is the same)

7) Random Encounters.  In BG, random encounters are all roughly the same, a different type of enemy shows up and attempts to murder you until you murder all of them.  There are a few of those in Fallout but you also have much more inventive random encounters.  just to list a few from the first game 

You can find a wandering singer who will perform for you and increase your charisma by 1

A unique merchant named Duc, who if you kill, you will trigger a random encounter where his men seek revenge.  

A random wounded Peasant which will give you some kind of prophecy 

A Brotherhood of Steel person who will give you some information 

Walk into a fight between two different factions (lots of variants of these) 

Corpses which you can loot

Some travelers who can give you directions or info

And a fucking crashed Alien Spaceship which you can loot 

Seriously far better random encounter design than most RPGs ever

8) Ideological conflict. This doesn't actually make Fallout better than BG, whose overall themes are more mythic than ideological but it makes it different, Fallout is effectively a story about adaptation, about society, technically and what does it mean to relate to the past.  The Vault wants to effectively deny the outside world and pretend WWIII never happened, The Brotherhood of Steel is creating this weird dogmatic elitist technology cult in response to it, the Master wants humanity to evolve to a new species to solve the problem, and what will be the New California Republic wants to recreate the pre War United States.  Different ideologies existing in opposition to each other is a core part of this series and Fallout starts it 

9) The Aethetic.  Fallout has a very unique look and feel which is so iconic that other video games keep ripping it off, and that I have been to multiple fallout themed bars in my life.  This isn’t really evident in the game-play graphics which I think are objectively uglier than BG’s painted backgrounds, but more in the objects, interface, and interactions, like the claymation models you can talk to 

10) Ending slides.  Fallout starts the tradition of having a slideshow at the end that shows exactly how each of your actions changed the world in a different way.   

12) This one doesn’t count because it didn’t really work but Purely turned based combat.  Fallout uses the Action Point system rather than the semi real time/Turn based of BG.  Now....this is more of a hypthoetical benefit because the turned based combat in Fallout doesn’t really work at all, so BG is just objectively better, but if it was polished it could be a radically different way of playing the game.

12) Dogmeat the Dog 

There is a reason why this game is so beloved to this day, it brings a lot of very radical mechanical innovation to the table, even though it is borderline unplayable at times.  

[questforpants]

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.

DUNGEONS AND DADDIES / EP 1 : A MAN AND A HANDSHAKE

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠. lines taken from an actual play d&d podcast, you can check out here 

I’m sorry, I laugh every time I hear it.

Uh, you might find a good use for those condoms on the course of this adventure.

If not in one way, then another.

You’re like our dad, the dad of dads.

I’m the dad of dads. I’m daddy daddy.

Yo, man, play it cool, dawg.

Ah, hey, yeah, what’s up man? How’s it goin’? Are you, uh, are you my ride?

Uh, yeah, uh, can you come here? Can we talk for a second? We’ll be right with you, young man! Can you get over here?

Rock and roll man.

Okay, uhhhh, yeah, no smoking in your car, I dig that. Alright man, your car, your rules.

On the scale from, like, 1 to 20, what kind of dankness are we looking at here, weed wise?

Uhhh, hey man, where’d you, uh, where’d you get that?

I’m very hungry and I kinda wanna fuck!

Uh, yeah man, I dig it. Well, uh, just tellin’ ya, this poindexter drivin’ the car over here doesn’t want you, uh—

He sounds like a fuckin’ narc.

You know what? I’m just gonna take that— why don’t we just put it in the mailbox for, uh, it’ll be our little secret.

We don’t want our mailman finding that, haha!

I feel like I’m fuckin’ bonding with my kid already!

Is this what fuckin’ being a parent is like? Because fuckin’ sign me up, this sounds great!

Hey, I hope you know, I ain’t no narc. I party occasionally too, it’s just, you know, in front of the kids…maybe someday we could, you know...anyways! That’s not important, I just don’t want you to think I’m-

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Power! Power! Power!”

I will make you a naked tree! A naked tree that I will then punch!

How would you like if someone ripped off your skin without consent?

I’m gonna need you guys to be real buddies and listen to Dad now, alright?

Challenge accepted, fatherrrrrrr!

Hey there, man, it’s just about being polite, you can tell a lot about a man from a handshake!

It was born from my brain!

I’m a little bit, uh, hazed out from the strength of the previous, aforementioned blunt.

We’re gonna be very respectful and we’re gonna be very positive, and then we’re gonna go out and we’re gonna have a wonderful time today. Can you say that, can you say we’re gonna go out and have a wonderful time today?

Yeah? What was the craziest thing you’ve ever done?

I burned down my first school!

[strained laughter] He didn’t burn down the /entire/ school, the fire damage was limited to one or two classrooms.

Okay, alright, who wants Grape-Nuts? I’ve got a baggy of grape nuts with me.

Well, I’m gonna be snacking on my Grape-Nuts and if anyone wants some, just let me know if you want some of these nuts and we’ll chow down.

Relationships are built on trust, that’s what you tell me. You should trust that we’re going to buckle up!

You know, I’m tryna’ let them make their own decisions, it’s called free-range parenting.

Well I guess somebody’s not getting their instant oatmeal.

Daddy? I mean, [name]? Is that you?

Listen...pal...I know that I haven’t been there for you. Because I wasn’t married to your wife, I mean to your mom, before your dad died. I’ve written several letters trying to emote on paper what I can’t always do in person and you know, I’m working on that.

[name?] [name], I was informed to tell you not to get in vans with strangers.

Don’t give a shit! 

That’s my little joke, I’m a teetotaler myself but I like to say “neat,” you know and it makes me feel neat.

No, it’s okay, safety is not a priority—

Alright, I’m puttin’ on 60s and 70s greatest hits as we go.

Don't worry, I know how much gas my van has, don't worry about it.

Pretty good place to drop. You just don’t know how to shoot people, but that’s fine.

  Okay now hold still and let me put these bandaids on. Okay, hold still!

Aw, I think I’m gonna throw up...the iodine

I can’t help but— do you remember that scene in Jurassic Park where Ellie Satler, the very attractive Laura Dern, is looking at the leaves and she notices that the leaves are different and that’s kinda the first clue that something strange is going on! 

I thought ‘cause you were dabbing, you were Fornite dabbing.

Oh, modifications, alright. Black market modifications.

Guys, it’s pretty weird out here.

See, I’m not quite sure if this is an LSD flashback or event, so I’m just gonna be a little vague here.

Do you just yell your own name when you’re excited?

That’s what I’m saying. I don’t trust these people.

Guys, which dad do you think has the biggest dingdong?

Woah there gentlemen, watch where you’re shooting that thing!

You’ve gotta be kiddin— [dying noise]

[name], I'm in the middle of battle. I'm wondering what I should do?

Uh, probably die. That sounds like something you would do.

Ooh! Hey diddle diddle!

[deep and angry] Sorry for the language.

I’ve never related more.

Yep! How does that feel?

Not possible, my man. Not a real number, not possible.

God damn it, I knew we shouldn’t have come back for the adults! I knew it!

[muttering] They’re twist-offs, they’re twist-offs…

[slurred] Give me one good reason not to gut ya like a pig right here….

[sighs] Guys, this is tough but I feel like we’re a team. I think we can do this if we all stick together.

“Just pretend you don’t see me feeling things.” 

[low] You’re ridin’ in back with me, kemosabe.

[quiet and scared] Ooh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no…

[extreme stammering] Uh, let’s talk about something else! I don’t know— it’s been a long day, uh, let’s talk about something else.

I feel like that’s pretty much the only thing I wanna talk about. You had vines shot out of you.

Do you still have the condoms?

You know, I think maybe something’s happening to me and I’m still trying to get my bearings on it, so I would really enjoy it if you guys respected my privacy and let me work through what’s going on on my own.

So I’m gonna go ahead and put 10 condoms on my fingers for the time being, just to make sure that nothing bad happens.

I don’t wanna make any more messes in here, so you can consider me condomed up.

Ha! It’s been awhile since I’ve had a laugh, I appreciate a good joke…

[yelling] I’m wearing the condoms!

Sorry, sorry I’m just a little sensitive about the changes that are happening to my body, so--

This is some Lord of the Rings shit right here, y’all.

He, generally, is known as one of the best cultivators of non-voluntary work in this part of the continent.

You’re using a lot of elitist language.

That’s an extremely offensive way to put what my master does…

Well, yeah, agree to disagree, but I feel like they’re probably more useful in the workforce.

Listen up, you big alpha jock piece of shit bozo!

I think I dig where you’re goin’, man, I think I got this.

Okay, I feel like you’re being pretty aggro on me right now, I knew I flew off the handle at you there but—

You’re right, I’m sorry man. It’s been a tough day for both of us.

I just don’t feel like this is a music kinda guy, I don’t feel like this guy pumps a lot of tuneskis.

No, no! He can’t take it back, he can’t take it back! I feel something!

I silence his dumb ass with a kiss!

Something tingles deep down inside of me and I feel love for the first time in a long time, when he puts his mouth on mine.

Snakes are natural predators, we had to put down our purebred Dachshund because he got bit by a snake. This is a game replicating that exact same experience… uh, it will make you so strong and powerful, it’ll make me cry… about my Dachshund.

Thank you, my Number One.

You may keep this receipt of the pact that we have made.

It’s constantly kinda screaming in horror. [very quiet and gentle] Aaah.

Woah, sorry, I slipped there. Been drinking a little bit—

Holy shit, that’s the best you got? This is so bad!

[whispered] What the fuck are you doing?

[yelling] Are you fucking kidding me!?

Hey, do we think that [name]’s handshake or his kiss is more trustworthy?

Oh, thanks everybody, sorry I introduced the kissing thing as something we have to maintain now as part of our cover. 

[travllingbunny]

The 100 6x03 The Children of Gabriel

The last episode was a character-based one focused on our protagonists and the issues simmering below the surface, which came out during the eclipse-induced psychosis. This one was very much focused on world-building, and was such an overload of new information about two new groups of potential antagonists that I had to watch it twice to pick up all of it. But while there was no time for any longer talks about feelings and character stuff, there were quite a few small and/or subtle character moments that were quite meaningful.

We finally get the introduction of Russell Lightbourne (JR Bourne), the leader of the „peaceful“ society of Sanctum, and a few other characters, including his wife Simone, and we get a look at how their society works; and we also meet, for the first time, the mysterious people who are lurking in the woods and appear to be some sort of a rebel/guerrilla group, and who are referred to as „the children of Gabriel“. The first thing I did after seeing the episode was to make a Twitter poll: „Who is creepier?“ with the third option: „Both are super creepy“. At the moment, Russell’s people are presented as pseudo-good guys, but everything about them all but screams that their society is very sinister. The „children of Gabriel“, on the other hand, are presented as pseudo-antagonists, and while I’m more inclined to see them as potential not-so-bad-guys, I would hesitate to call them good, either: they are very grey. And both groups give off cult vibes. It’s possible that there really are no good guys among the people on this planet – or if there is a someone else that may be a good guy, that it’s a third faction that we haven’t met yet – at least not in the present.

The hijackers from 6x02 indeed belonged to Russell’s people, so for a society that’s supposedly „peaceful“, they sure didn’t make a good first impression. Kaylee – that’s apparently the name of the woman who’s the sole survivor of that group of four – was blaming the Earthkru for killing three of them, while saying „we hurt no one“. Err, you came in masked, attacked their ship, tried to hijack it and took people captive. Of course they defended themselves, what the heck did you expect?! New planet, but yet again we have to deal with hypocritical people who attack the protagonists and then blame them for defending themselves. 

There’s no way that Russell and his society aren’t bad guys, right? They are elitist, self-righteous, judgmental, hypocritical, they believe in "special bloodlines" and treating some people as "disposable", they give off creepy cult vibes, Russell straight up makes a comparison between his society and Mount Weather after having heard the story about them – and while I don’t think that Sanctum people are too similar to Mountain Men, as I point out here, this is a big hint that this society is very sinister. They are giving me Capitol vibes (minus the actual Hunger Games, because they’re anti-violence). Including the bad kind of pacifism - the “war is terrible, but oppression, classism and treating people as disposable is OK, so anyone taking up arms to rebel against us is evil”. And I'm pretty sure they have been doing some sort of a mind transfer of the Primes (members of the four founding families from the Eligius 3 mission) into the brains of "hosts" (apparently, being a Nightblood makes you a suitable host) in a ceremony they call „Naming“. This may be technically just speculation at this point, but it’s really, really strongly hinted.

My theory on the „Naming“ ceremony however, is different than the popular opinion in the fandom that the Primes fully take over the bodies of the „hosts“ and that the hosts disappear I don't think it's a full replacement, but more like an upgrade, where the host is changed and the Prime is supposed to be in the driving seat. (Maybe it’s because I’m thinking of the skinchanging in A Song of Ice and Fire and some of the storylines in Dollhouse.) For starters, Delilah was not happy about becoming a Prime, but she didn’t seem to think that she would disappear and her body would be simply overtaken by someone else – and I think she would be way more freaked out if that were the case. Similarly, even in a cult, I can’t see parents being happy for their children to become Primes if it meant that their bodies are overtaken and that they basically disappear. And it would also make it a lot more interesting storyline – especially if the fandom speculation about in Clarke becoming a host for Josephine is correct (and it probably is, in some form – there are quite a few hints towards that, and the setup happened in this episode, when Rose, the blonde little girl who was meant to be a host for a Prime, was kidnapped/rescued by the Children of Gabriel). If the hosts were fully overtaken by the Primes, then this takeover is either never going to happen, or will never be full or will last very short, and Clarke will be saved. But if Clarke and Josephine can co-exist in the same brain for some time, this may open new storytelling possibilities – where Clarke is obviously not going to be obliterated by Josephine, but the two may co-exist in the same brain and body, fight for dominance but also possibly even be allies and work together, so to speak, and maybe help each other? This could indeed be the „acting challenge“ for Eliza Taylor that so many of the cast and crew have talked about.

But what kind of technology exactly are they using to transfer minds? The most likely theory is that it is derived from an early, less developed prototype of the chip/Flame, which Becca already worked on before the apocalypse. There are too many ties between Eligius Corporation, Becca and the Second Dawn. Madi will be in real danger if/when Russell and co. find out about the Flame.

The Children of Gabriel are more mysterious of the two group so far. Unlike the Sanctum people, they may end up being more on the (relatively) good side, and they're rebels fighting against the eternal dominance and prolongation of life of the Primes - but they still planned to kill the hosts as the B-plan if they couldn't kidnap/rescue them. So, killing the Primes is more important than protecting/saving people. Their chanting "death is life" and "death to Primes" also sounds cult-like (even though I think the words themselves are less sinister than they first sound, as they probably refer to stopping the endless cycle of Primes replicating themselves), and they are mostly motivated by trying to impress or get back into the good graces of "the Old Man"...  Is the Old Man Gabriel? I don’t know how he would still be alive, but I feel he is – but not through the same means as the other Primes are prolonging their lives, because CoG hate the Primes and what they do. In any case, this group seems just to be a group of guerrilla fighters, who have also infiltrated the Sanctum – but we haven’t seen whatever larger group of people they are part of, or what their settlements look like. Have they been cast out by the „Old Man“?  

Some big hints about the history of the planet were dropped: Gabriel is considered a "demon" and hated by Russell and his people, who tell the story of how he thought he could walk on water after being bitten by the snake whose poison works as an antidote to the seaweed poison. (The snake that was named by Josie.) Meanwhile, Russell Lightbourne is worshiped as a savior. But it is Russell who has the last name that's very similar to "Lucifer" (which means lightbearer), even though Gabriel seems to be the one who was cast out of this "paradise", or didn't want to be a part of it. And apparently, Russell has the same first name as Sean Maguire’s character we met in the flashback in 6x02, the astronomer and Josie’s father – and is probably his latest incarnation. But Russell was the one who killed many of the original Primes during his eclipse-induced psychosis, shouting „Sanctum is mine“, while Gabriel, the geneticist, Josie’s boyfriend, was the one who got away and survived. So what is going on? False history?

But while the new characters and societies are intriguing, what is more interesting is how it all affects our protagonists. I don't know how long it will be till they start realizing that how sinister this peaceful society is (they don’t have all the info they need as of now), but right now, they are too focused on the fact that they need someone to teach them how to survive on this planet (with not just eclipse-induced psychosis, but also poison seaweed, swarms of bugs, meat-eating trees and so many other weird and dangerous things), which is why trying to convince them to accept them into their society seems to them, understandably, like the best course of action.

At the same time, the fact that Clarke, Bellamy and the others want to find peace and be the „good guys“ as Monty told them, is another reason why they are likely to try to see Russell’s people in a good light. I feel like Sanctum is going to be a temptation to Clarke in particular (based on this episode and trailer hints) for multiple reasons, and they are already trying to suck her in. It feels like a peaceful, happy place, with things that she has only read about and maybe seen on videos but never in real life – such as dogs. (Having an adorable dog come up to you is truly one of the biggest temptations possible.) She gets to wear beautiful dresses, Russell acts nice to her, and kind of looks like her father. But her emotional state is especially making her vulnerable. She feels so much guilt and wants to do better, wants to ensure this better life for her people, while Russell and Simone (playing a good cop/bad cop) are interrogating her about the supposedly terrible past of her and her people. They are sitting there at a table with a huge banquet made just for three people, somewhere in their Renaissance Fair-like castle,  and being judgmental about the things they did to survive or protect their loved ones. And now that they know that she is a Nightblood, she is a target – but how far would Clarke go to try to ensure her people stay in Sanctum? Would she even agree to be a host, both for them and because she’s had self-loathing and suicidal thoughts, so losing herself into someone else’s consciousness may be additionally appealing to her in her current state?

Some themes that have always followed Clarke’s character are: privileged background (reflected in her nickname „Princess“, which I think fans tend to romantcize way too much), tendency to take on too much responsibility, to take charge, but also to isolate herself, desire to save people (which may be either saving everyone – or just saving those she loves), ruthlessness in pursuit of that goal, self-sacrifice. One of the repeated situations throughout the show is: other leaders who have been Clarke’s allies/friends/occasional antagonists would tell her that she is "born to lead" just like they are (which may be just about her personal qualities and tendency to take charge and responsibility in tough situations, but also has some other, less pleasant connotations, when said by people who are royalty/„special bloodlines“ – for being born with Nightblood like Lexa, or as a son of a Queen, as Roan), and try to encourage her to treat people as disposable, as a part of making tough decisions. But no one has been so blatant about it to actually use the word „disposable“, as Russell has. And now he also thinks that Clarke literally has „royal blood“. (The funny thing about it is – she doesn’t, she became Nightblood through science. Emori was very close to becoming one instead. But you know what's even funnier? Everyone who is Nightblood /on Earth or on Sanctum/Alpha- became that through science, or their ancestors did. Of course, valuing people for their bloodline is nonsense, period.)

But Clarke had a few great moments in this episode that made me very happy. First she refused to bow to Russell, and then when she made it clear to Russell that she is going to risk herself first, not anyone else, and that „None of us are (disposable)“. But since those were things I expected, I was particularly happy that Clarke refused to be guilt-tripped about Mount Weather and made it clear that she wasn't going to apologize for saving the people she loves from those trying to murder them. YES. People have made Clarke feel guilty about that way too many times. What she, Bellamy and Monty did was the right thing to do, and most of the adults on Mount Weather were not innocent.

Murphy’s clinical death experience opens up a very interesting and completely new storyline. We’ve had characters talking about what they think happens after death, but (outside of characters whose minds are being preserved in the Flame), this is the first time someone has come close to seeing or thinking they had seen what happens after death. But is this really a normal clinical death experience, or did Murphy have hallucinations while still unconscious, caused by the poison or the antidote? It’s the first time anyone on the show has mentioned the concept of people going to hell due to their sins. I can’t wait to see what character development this causes in Murphy.

There wasn’t much talk about what happened during the eclipse-induced psychosis, which makes sense – people are simply aware that they weren’t really to blame and no one is holding it against anyone (not to mention that they have so much urgent stuff to deal with), but the deeper emotional issues are something that we know about and that I expected to be addressed later in the season. Naturally, they addressed what happened to Murphy the most, since they nearly lost him. Emori was as loving and caring to him as she was violent and murderous during the psychosis, and felt guilty over attacking him, while Bellamy comforted her pointing out that Murphy’s condition was not her fault but his. (These two had some very nice friendship moments in season 5, and it’s nice to see that again.) Bellamy and Murphy had a very warm friendship moment, and Raven showed her relief and happiness about him being alive in her usual snarky manner.

On the other hand, while Bellamy and Clarke didn’t talk about what happened during the psychosis, or what happened during season 5 (yet – we know from the trailer that a big conversation is coming, just not when), they confirmed the trust they have in each other through actions, and small moments of exchanging meaningful looks. Bellamy showed that he still trusts in Clarke’s ability to be again a leader and ambassador of their people– although it was, at the same time, a smart decision and quick thinking. Russell got the impression Clarke was the leader, from the way she was the one asking questions (which happened mostly because she was asking about Murphy’s condition, and later in particular when she was showing concern for Madi – these are the things that spur her into action), and, as Bellamy pointed out, Russell seems to like her, so it was a good idea to use that. Raven was rolling her eyes* (this happened shortly after she angrily remarked „I didn’t know you were giving orders again, Clarke“), and I wonder if she again thinks that Bellamy is „taking Clarke’s orders“ or „a knight by his queen’s side“ or whatever she thought in season 3, which wasn’t really true back then either – but that would especially be funny now, since Bellamy wasn’t relinquishing leadership at all: he has been the one telling everyone what to do and did that right after that scene, after Russell left, and no one has a problem with taking his orders. (Except Octavia, who’s not listening to anyone and still does whatever she wants.) In fact, telling Russell „She is. She can speak for us“ was also kind of giving Clarke a role – so he felt he needed to explain his reasons to her, immediately after Russell left. And unlike Raven, he is not threatened by Clarke being perceived as the leader, and her being his co-leader (one whose role is more of an ambassador who gets to interact with the other leader) is a return to a familiar dynamic that works.

Bellamy taking the responsibility to get Madi from the dropship and saying „I promise“, and Clarke silently accepting that and trusting him with her daughter’s safety, was a really important moment and callback to the most painful moments between them in season 5. It shows they are healing from the terrible misunderstandings – and that Clarke is now thinking about everything differently than she did at the time. Back then, she saw Bellamy’s actions, after he had promised her to keep Madi safe, as a deep, awful betrayal, but now she seems to understand that he saw putting the Flame in Madi as a way to protect Madi and Clarke and everyone else. It’s funny that the fandom was expecting a big and long separation between these two, but instead, they were reunited in the same episode – and the show still managed to use the short separation to show Bellamy walking away and looking back, and Clarke looking at him leaving with a sad, longing look (only interrupted by the adorable dog), and then a reunion with „you kept your promise“ heart-eyes.

*At this point, I feel a bit fed up with the constant bitter and angry remarks Raven is constantly throwing at Clarke. She has reasons to feel angry over Clarke’s betrayal in season 5, but it’s time they talk it out, because this is kind of annoying, especially when it’s the only thing Raven gets to do in the episode. Diyoza was amazing

A lot of people have remarked on the awkwardness of the hug between Bellamy and Echo, and there have been lots of comments about actor chemistry etc. – but thinking that acting choices are random or dictated by how actors feel about a fictional relationship is pretty insulting to the actors, and directors and editors, and also doesn’t make much sense: people who make the show are not incompetent, and all the moments of Bellamy showing more emotion and interest for Clarke compared to how he is with Echo, cannot be accidental, just like it can’t be accidental that there are so many times all three are framed within the same shot, with Echo positioned as the third wheel rather than Clarke. Echo herself may be increasingly noticing this, just as she may have noticed that Bellamy is valuing Clarke’s opinions more than hers or at least tends to agree with and side with her more. Echo suggested fighting, Clarke retorted that they should instead try to be friends and be welcomed in that society, and Bellamy said nothing, but obviously supported Clarke’s position later. (In season 5, when they were still on the ship and Clarke-less, Echo and Bellamy also had a big difference in opinion when Echo was suggesting they killed the 300 prisoners in their cryo-sleep, but Bellamy shut that down quickly, and Echo then agreed with him.) This could make her think that psychosis!Emori was right when she called her a spy „serving her master“, once again, which provoked Echo’s hallucination of her past with the Ice Nation and Queen Nia.

One thing that Echo decided and Bellamy wasn’t too happy about, but did not protest, was inviting Octavia to come with them and Raven to help bring Madi and others from the dropship. He probably realized that it was for the best that they take Octavia as far away from people they wanted to convince that they’re good and peaceful. But Echo may have done it as a combination of hoping Octavia and Bellamy reconcile – because she thinks it would be good for him – and because she values the fact that Octavia is a strong fighter. She respects people who are capable and can be ruthless (which is why she doesn’t blame Clarke, either), and the idea that it’s good to use Octavia’s abilities is similar to what Bellamy initially told her at the end of season 4, that she’ll be useful for them because she’s strong and can help them survive.

But Bellamy is not able to be so chill about things when Octavia is concerned. And she went and confirmed all the worst things he thought about her: that she is not trying to change at all, isn’t admitting any mistakes, and is going to use violence and kill people as her first choice, even when it’s not necessary. The fact that even Diyoza angrily pointed out that it wasn’t necessary shows that this was the case. Leaving Octavia behind may seem very harsh from Bellamy, as is his line that his sister died a long time ago, but I like the fact that he’s sticking to his guns and cutting her out of his life and not allowing her to be a part of the group before she shows a will to change, because an insta-forgiveness/ acceptance would prevent her from even trying – and would harm everyone else, too. At the same time, I don’t think he really wants her to die, contrary to what she said – it was obvious on his face how painful the decision was for him - and I don’t think he really thinks she will (Octavia is capable, has a sword, and has survived a lot of things before). He thinks that she needs to have her own soul-searching on her own – which is probably right.

Not that Octavia will be by herself, since she immediately attacked and got captured by the Children of Gabriel, led by a new character Xavier (Chuku Modu). Ironically, she may end up being the first to learn more about and maybe see the perspective of that group of people (after killing three of them for no good reason) – even though the first interactions are less than pleasant.

Another person who may get in touch with them is Diyoza, who got cast out of Sanctum by Russell, in spite of being 6 months pregnant, after he learned who she was. (I guess they don’t practice keeping people in prison for any longer period of time.) According to him, her reputation as an evil terrorist is so bad that her picture is in their history books next to Hitler and Bin Laden.  So how come they didn’t recognize her immediately? Unless he is exaggerating. Diyoza’s backstory is something I really, really want to know more about. Diyoza herself claimed in S5 that she was fighting against a „fascist“ government. Somehow I feel that she wasn’t really the evil one, especially when Russell and her people hate her.

Diyoza was amazing in this episode, again, and is quickly rising even more on my list of favorite characters. She was a no-nonsense and capable military person that she always is, and made snarky remarks to Gaia about the whole Madi being a Commander thing, basically that she should leave Madi alone to just be a child. Madi was herself a bit annoyed with Gaia’s lessons and snarky, but then felt just as insulted as Gaia when Diyoza made her comments, because she does take the Flame and her role seriously.

When Madi mentioned the scary, evil „Dark Commander“ (Sheidheda) that she sees in her dreams, Diyoza seemed like she had an idea who it may be. Someone from Second Dawn? It’s been speculated that it was Cadogan, though the figure seen in the trailer is not played by the same actor. (BTW, I know that Sheidheda means „Dark Commander“ (shade –dark, heda = commander), but I can’t be the only one thinking that the writers or the guy creating the Grounder speech had a sense of humor and intentioanlly made it sound like Sh*ithead?)

Jordan was adorable, and his romance with Delilah was as cute as insta-romances between two cute people who have just met can be, when they have nice chemistry - but he’s starting to learn that he shouldn’t trust people so easily and that his naivete can be very harmful to the group. He can’t go on being treated and acting as a child in a body of a man in his mid-20s.

This was a nice setup for the rest of the season. 

Rating: 8/10

[no-d4y-but-tod4y]

Unconventional Conventions

So...I want to write more fics. They’re great fun! And I decided that I want to start making a sort of timeline for me and my F/O, so here is my late-night ramblings of how Frank and I met! To be written in third person, because I still don’t know how to do this. I’m making this up as I go along. Please bear with me!

‘Left?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Yes!’

‘What if we’re going the wrong way?’

‘I’ve been staring at this fucking map for until my eyes go crossed, we are not going the wrong way!’

The car descended into icy silence. The driver and the passenger were the best of friends, but five hours on a mostly desolate road is bound to test anyone’s endurance.

‘I’m sorry, I’m tired.’

‘I know, so am I.’ The driver stretched her neck, wincing at the lack of space. ‘There’s list a lot riding on this, you know?’

Indeed. Alma and Kitley sped along an unmarked country road towards the most anticipated technological showcase of the year. The best of the best, from the most prestigious schools, the most esteemed tutors, the most reputable families received an invitation to this event. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity for the academic prodigies of their time to unveil, demonstrate, and sell their fleeting moments of lunatic genius. This provided not only exposure, but the opportunity for potential investors, apprenticeships, internships, and a multitude of prestigious connections.

In short, an inventors dream. Kitley has cried for hours after her sealed envelope arrived three weeks ago. As Kitley’s close friend and trusted confidant, Alma was first choose to accompany her (and her metric ton of priceless equipment) across the country - but she really hasn’t wanted to go. She supported Kit in all her endeavours, of course, but a whole weekend? Of scientific jargon and plummy accents and snooty demeanours? Of things she wouldn’t begin to understand, of the nonsensical racing’s of lunatic minds, of pretending not to realise how out of place she was?

No thanks.

But Kit couldn’t do it alone. And everyone else was more honest.

The bar better be well stocked for all she was compromising for this.

‘Ooh, there it is! Pull in there, I see it!’

The looming gothic country house seemed surprisingly cheery in the hot sun. A string quartet played merrily on the grass, patrons strolled about in twos or little groups. Most people, however, rushed in an out, carrying tripods and boxes and fold out tables and cages. Men in long coats, women in smart dresses and bright red lipstick. More brains than they knew what to do with.

‘Well,’ Kit didn’t realise she was crushing her friends hand. ‘Let’s go in.’

A handsome porter sprung to their aid, taking half of the equipment inside the building with him. Kit joined the line at the foyer, invitations clutched in her hand. Alma accompanied the porter around the back of the house with her load, a quick stamp on the wrist, and followed the man through the winding corridors.

She wondered who lived here. Perhaps they were still there. The faces one sees in a wallpaper pattern, the footsteps creaking along the staircases, the grief-ridden howling of the winter winds. Listen hard enough, and the whole world becomes but an echo of a past life.

They came to a sprawling room, dissected of furniture and grafted with metallic screens and futuristic game consoles.

‘This is your booth,’ the porter explained, dropping their equipment with a relieved sigh. The screen had Kit’s name on it, and their little section included a wardrobe, along with a water cooler and a small table. Some things, she assumed, had to be stored under different conditions. ‘The exhibition will be held in the conference hall, the timings of which are provided here. He handed her two pieces of paper staples together. As of now, you’re free to roam the grounds.’ He held out his hand. Was he expecting a tip? She reached into her pocket and placed five pounds there. ‘I advise everyone not to piss people off at these things. They can cut you head open and stir your brain with a fork. And right now, sweetheart,’ he gave her the filthiest look, ‘you’re not off to a very good start.’

She watched him go, unfazed. See? Lunatics!

***

Alma unfolded the running order one she got outside, and groaned.

Kitley was in the last group. Exhibiting her robotic talents alongside a Dr. Garrett Ferguson, a Prof. Martinez, and a Ms Katrina Morgenstern. That wasn’t until Sunday... what was she supposed to do for two whole days?

The running order came attached to the itinerary, which Alma spared but a glance before stifling a wretch. Seminars, workshops, Q + A panels, guest speakers. All staggered throughout the day in one of the 200 rooms of the house. Each mind-blowing scientific subject more boring than the last.

Kitley hadn’t returned from signing in. Seemingly she received a copy of the itinerary and dashed off. Glad to know she was having fun somewhere...

Alma would have gone along to one. She liked to learn, even if she didn’t - often - understand any of it. But here, these people were elitists. Even just walking around, soaking up the sun and listening to the floral-printed singer on the bandstand, she had been given some questionable looks. It’s like they had a radar. They could smell the mediocrity...

Her clothes, her speaking voice, even her stance conveyed a multitude of errors. The stamp on her wrist might as well read ‘lowly public school graduate’.

She didn’t belong here. She didn’t like it one bit.

And, as even Alma could stand only a certain number of hours at the bar, she needed to find something to do. So far, she hadn’t seen any cornered off areas, or signs indicating where she wasn’t supposed to go. So, she went exploring.

She passed the ‘kit room’ (which seemed now it be a dissected sort of drawing room) on the way to the stairs. Poked her head in to check all the necessities were still there. Nobody had robbed them? Good.

The house really did go on for miles. Magnitude doesn’t really hit you until you experience it first-hand. It seemed bigger on the inside - sprawling. Is this what it feels like to be on the other side of the doll house?

The further up she went, the less well kept the rooms became. It was likely that no one had been up here for a while. The maid cleans it once a month, or something like that. Everything ever that didn’t actually matter had been stored on this floor - fourth, if she remembered correctly. Taxidermy, broken crockery, neglected jewellery. One room, however, that enticed her fancies the most, was a smallish room, drowning in dust: occcupied by nothing but large couches, and a multitude of think, white blankets.

Aww yea.

***

She came to herself in darkness. The stars dazzled and gleamed through the naked window. She remembered, foggily, where she was and what she was doing. Wrapped up in three blankets like a burrito, she felt a sense of slight panic.

She hadn’t meant to sleep that long! Anyone could have found her! Hopefully if she snuck out now she’d make it back to the shared room without worrying Kit. And didn’t she snuggle under two blankets before she dozed off...?

‘Still alive, then?’

She screamed bloody murder. Launching herself in the general direction furthest from the uninvited speaker, tripping over trailing sheets and staggering to keep her balance, her startled gaze quickly found a mint-coated man relaxing on the couch positioned opposite hers, smirking at her.

‘What the fuck are you doing? She demanded, still trembling a little from the dark surprise. ‘Who are you, how did you get in here?’ She narrowed her eyes at him with a vicious glare. ‘How long have you been sitting there?’

‘You’re not starkers under there, are you?’ Her gaze snapped down to the white sheet she’d...why had she covered herself with it?

‘No!’

‘Remove the blanket then, so I can see.’

‘See what?’ She threw the blanket down in rage, despite the obvious confrontational tone of her response. ‘Why aren’t you answering any of my questions?’

‘I know you,’ he gave her a real smile, standing up to cross the room. Instinctively, she geared up to dart away. ‘You’re with Kitley Harlenson.’

Well, that was the only normal part of the conversation so far. Even when alone, always more interested in Kitley.

‘I saw you tip that dreadful porter. You might as well have run over his cat.’ He chuckled with a slight shake of the head. ‘It’s the brooch,’ he nodded towards her breastbone, where a small pin clung to the fabric of her flannel shirt - a tiny silver rocket. ‘Stereotypical and clueless way of showing your support for us...’

‘Us?’ She said, finding her voice at last. ‘You’re scientist too?’

He shrugged. ‘Sometimes.’ A slender hand came out next (notably long fingers) with another gleaming smile.

She wondered how many girls went home elated, thinking they would marry a doctor in due course and never work another day again. All because he smiled at them.

‘I’m Frank, he said she she tentatively accepted the firm handshake. ‘And who might you be?’

She studied the dark mop of crazy curls, at such a sharp contrast to the pristine, professional, white lab coat.

They were still holding hands. What’s my name again?

‘Alma,’ she introduced herself, thanking the heavens that her voice had come out properly.

‘The pleasure’s all mine.’ He kissed the back of her hand - just barely brushed it with his lips - and the stance returned to normal. His eyes sparkled the tiniest bit as he said, ‘Just try not to doze off in my house next time, hmm?’

Her stomach - and face - dropped. ‘This is your house...?!’

‘It’s alright, darling, I’m just teasing.’

‘Why were you watching me sleep?’ She remembered, suddenly, for silver tounges and bewitching good looks made no compensation for stalking.

‘Why, protecting you, of course.’ He bared his teeth in another wicked grin. ‘I came upon you, first of all, so finders keepers, and secondly, there are all sorts of eccentric creatures roaming the grounds here this evening. I should know, I invited them. Sabotage is rife here at these events - you can never be too careful with them. Wouldn’t want them to mistake you for the next female Frankenstein and ship you off to a laboratory in the Swiss mountains. With these people, you never know!’

She tried to figure out whether he was teasing again or not. ‘You’re content with having body snatchers in your-?’

‘Oh, that reminds me,’ he exclaimed rather dramatically. ‘I’d quite forgotten about that horrendous dinner - you know the one I’m referring too, don’t you, presuming you read your itinerary?’

She did. She had. Recollection had evaded her as well. And now she felt fantastic.

A black tie gala dinner with these snobs? To sit around a table sipping £300 wine that was probably just a shop-bought crate with the labels removed, discussing current affairs and politics and how much everyone was achieving, and that small loan of £1,000,000 really kick-started the process?

Can’t fucking wait.

When she fazed back in, he cocked his right eyebrow. ‘You didn’t listen to a word I said, did you?’

‘What?’ It was harder to think now, with that unfamiliar, cloying scent apparently exuding from his skin. ‘No, I just - well, it’s not really my thing, I don’t know that much-.’

‘Come with me.’ He clasped her shoulders firmly. ‘Sit at my table. I loathe these silly affairs, you understand? And you don’t seem to be having a brilliant afternoon either, my darling.’ He squeezed her shoulders a little concernedly. She flushed, hoping it wasn’t as red as it felt. ‘Won’t you please keep me company?’

‘Your table,’ she echoed, incredulous. ‘I can’t sit there! Your table will be filled with the most important people, nobody knows who I am!’

‘I have to sit on my own. I told you, it’s abysmal. I sit at the back of a loooooong room, watching thick-headed rich kids fight over who’s more successful, and no one gives me a thought.’

‘Kit isn’t like that,’ she mumbled.

‘I’m sure she isn’t.’ He smiled at her. ‘She wouldn’t have a friendship with you if that were the case, now would she?’ To her immediate shock, Frank pouted. Bottom lip out, large round eyes the epitome of innocence, forehead creasing. And it was...so cute? She’d never expected that. ‘Please come? Pleeeaaasseee? What’s so unappealing about sitting next to me and getting wine drunk all night? What would you be doing otherwise?

Well nothing. But she wasn’t going to say that. Cheeks blazing now, she mumbled at the ground, ‘I have nothing to wear...’

‘Oh come off it!’ He took her firmly by the wrist and quite literally dragged her from the room. ‘Come to my room,’ he instructed while pulling her along as easily as a suitcase, ‘amuse me whilst I get ready. I’ll find you something to wear.’

Alma followed along obediently until they reached the top floor. Frank ushered into a dark room, and she squinted against the glaring artificial light.

And when she could see again...oh boy.

The very definition of indulgence. Decadence. Affluence. Whatever you want to call it. Purples, blacks, deep reds. Gold trims, silver accents. A sprawling four poster took up most of the floor space, made with rich black silk and mountains of velvet pillows. The curtains were black too, yet sheer. Obviously for decoration then...

A sliver vanity table stood opposite the bed, full to bursting with various shattered, smeared, and unkempt cosmetics. The brushes were unclean, the containers left open. Dark pigments had been walked into the thick carpet. The table itself was a mess too - the illuminated mirror, however, was spick and span.

Through the mirrored doors of the walk in wardrobe, she spied row upon row of glittering corests. Heels were stored underneath, what seems to be a selection of...ahem, toys, spilled from a bag right at the back.

Well it made sense now. Someone of Frank’s financial status could afford hour upon hour from high class escorts. He knew what he liked, clearly - consistency at least.

That was until he discarded the coat with a disgusted scoff to reveal that he wore a corset underneath. And stockings. Suspenders. The works. She watched, jaw on the floor, as he slipped on a pair of meshed gloves.

He turned, and pretended to jump a little from her looking at him. ‘What?’ He grinned, strolling over to the vanity and winking at her through the mirror. He pumped a large amount of liquid foundation onto a filthy stippling brush. He caught her staring again, and mirrored her shock in a pantomime gesture.

‘Academics can’t be beautiful too?’

Alma <3

[iwillgiveyoumyhappiness]

Snob (한솔최)

Idol: Hansol Vernon Choi

Requester: The-Guy-I-Used-To-Despise

Word Prompt: Snobbish

Genera: Angst(?), Fluff

He was snobbish. That was the only way to describe him.

Whenever he passed you in the halls, he looked down his nose at you, like he was so much more superior than you.

Honestly, it felt terrible. How could someone be that much of an elitist?

At first, you thought that it must just be because you were still a trainee while he was part of a highly successful thirteen-member group. But even then, that’d be no excuse. 

After a while, you came to the conclusion that he must just hate you. You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve such a shunning, but it must’ve been something bad. 

You couldn’t particularly even think of a time when you’d personally interacted with him. You always just kind of... Passed. Like shadows, passing through each other, but never truly touching.

Like wind blowing through your hair. Is it really there if you can’t see it?

You’d tried to use that philosophy for Vernon before, actually. You tried ignoring him, but that didn’t help at all. You could still feel his eyes on you, like they were tearing you down, examining your every flaw—just picking at your imperfections. 

pick, pick, pick

It was bound to explode one day, mostly in his face, especially when you were stuck in the same practice room as him for a few hours, with no one to relieve you of your quiet suffering.

There he stood, eyeing you in the mirror while he stretched, his eyebrows furrowed in a condescending way.

The human body has seven-trillion nerves, and maybe it was matter of growing stress or increased hormones, or just messy emotions swept under the proverbial rug, he had manged to get on every single one of them. 

“Okay!” you snapped in English, knowing it would have more of an impact that way. Plus, if anyone were to overhear, it was only a very slight chance that they would understand the brewing argument. 

Whipping around, your sneakers squeaked on the hardwood. “Do you have a problem with me? What is wrong with you?” 

His eyes were wide, and his mouth had actually fallen open. You had caught him off guard. 

Your fists were clenched and you could feel your jaw tighten, almost painfully. “What did I ever do to you? That’s all I wanna know. What did I do to deserve this? I think I’m a relatively nice person, you know. But you don’t seem to think so.”  

You wanted to let him stir for a moment, letting your words swim around his head in a dizzying, sickening way. You waited for an answer, your breathing heavy. You waited for anything—just anything other than him staring like that.

He looked almost... Hurt. Maybe guilty? You didn’t want to see it. He was just trying to get you to pity him, you were sure. Not happening, Choi. 

Finally, he swallowed the lump in his throat, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. Why did he look so nervous? He stood up, looking at the floor and clasping his hands together. 

“That’s not...” he mumbled. You hadn’t heard him speaking very much (he never spoke to you), and to suddenly hear his voice right in front of you, so clearly? It was different than you’d imagined. 

It was more silvery and modulated. It was... Pleasant. He sighed. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, bang-up job, buddy.”

“I know...” he said. “I messed up, right?”

You scoffed. “No shit.”

He winced a little at your harsh words. How was this the same guy that’d looked down on you for the better part of a year..? “Can I at least try to explain myself?”

You would’ve said no. In fact, maybe you should’ve, but for whatever reason—perhaps it was his sad eyes—you just nodded, leaning against the mirror. “Fine. You can try.” 

He looked up hopefully. “Really?” 

“Yeah, but make it quick. I still have to practice today, and I have no patience for you right now.”

He nodded vigorously. “Y-yeah! I’ll make it quick! Or, at least, I’ll try. I mean, I don’t know if I’ll be able to—”

“Dude!” you interrupted, snapping your finger for emphasis. “Stop rambling!” 

He sucked in a breath, as if telling himself to calm down. “Yeah, yeah... Okay. I’ll try. Calm down. Got it.” You gave him a look, immediately shutting him up. He cleared his throat. “Well, you wanna know why I stare at you all the time, right?”

You grit your teeth. “For starters.” He sure was taking this lightly. 

“Well... It’s because...” Was he blushing? “I’m trying to figure you out.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?

“Because I think I might end up liking you a bit, if I got to know you better...” 

You stopped breathing.You stopped blinking.You stopped moving.

You stopped living, for a moment.

“What?” Your voice was quiet, but harsh. It made him shrink a little. “You like me, so you’ve been making me feel like crap? Studying every little messed up thing about me?”

He shook his head, his eyes widening. “That’s not what I’m doing! I’m just—!” He searched for the right words. “I’m just trying to decide what kind of person you are, and I’m trying to do it from afar because I’m too scared to approach you.” He shuffled his feet. “You’re really scary sometimes, because you’re just so cool... I feel like our hearts would go well together.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 

He’d been silently terrorizing you, for months, and then he just comes out with this? No. You wouldn’t have it. In fact, you weren’t having it. You’d already started grabbing your bag, hoodie, and water-bottle, heading out of the third floor practice room.

“Wait, where are you going?” he all but gasped. 

“Away,” you said coldly. 

He blocked the door. “Whoa, whoa, whoa—wait! Why?”  

“Because I’m human, Hansol!” you barked. 

He’d never heard you say his name before, and honestly, even though you were yelling it, he felt a certain sort of pride hearing it pass through your lips. You lips of that sort of strawberry-stained, imperfect shade. He’d been watching those lips for a few months now, and he’d have to stop himself every single time, urging himself not to be a pervert.

“Humans are afraid of things they can’t explain or understand, you got it?” you continued. “Hence, I’m ditching, ‘cause my brain just can’t handle this right now! I’ve got too much stress to deal with this mess, too!” 

He used himself to block the door more effectively, now standing chest-to-chest with you. He offered a sheepish smile. “Do you wanna talk about it..? Your stress, I mean. I know that’s no good, and it totally sucks.”

You were baffled, your jaw hanging slack. How was that person—the one of silent cruelty—and this person—the one of puppy-like out-spoken kindness—the same person? 

You pushed him a little. “That’s it. Get out of my way.” You could feel yourself flush, and you hated it. “You’re confusing me, and it’s giving me a headache.”

He stood firm. “I’m sorry for giving you a headache,” he said genuinely, freezing you in your spot. “I’m sorry I’ve been weird. I’m sorry I’ve been making you feel bad, even though it’s the total opposite of my intentions. I’m sorry I’ve been too much a coward to talk to you. I’m sorry that I’ve snapped random candid shots of you while at lunch—”

“Wait, you what now?” you interrupted. 

He tittered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah... I guess you probably didn’t know about that. Whenever I saw you at lunch or something, I would take stealthy pictures of you.” He chuckled. “Though, not stealthy enough, I guess, since my members totally noticed.”

You wanted to stop yourself, but you really couldn’t. You burst out laughing, holding your gut. “You grade A fruitcake!” you howled, wiping a tear from your eye. “I honestly can’t believe you—are you even real?”

After a moment of initial awkwardness, he joined in on the laughter. “Hey, it’s not my fault that I’m smitten by your mystery!”

“It totally is, though!”

He grumbled to himself. “Okay, maybe that’s true—but still!” He had let down his guard a little, finally backing away from the door. He trusted you enough not to bolt, and rightfully so. You kind of felt stuck now. “So... Are you willing to give this a shot?”

“Dating you?” you asked. “No way.” You sounded firm in your decision, but then you softened. “But as your friend? Yeah. I’m willing to try that.” You gave him a small smile. “And then... We can see where it goes from there.” 

He eyes lit up in a childish, wonderful way. “For real?”

You nodded. “For real. But, that doesn’t change the fact that you really hurt me these past few months. You’ll have to do some serious work to gain my trust, bub.”

He looked serious. “What do I need to do?”

“I’m thinking...” you hummed thoughtfully, then donned a smirk. “Lunch for a month?”

He grinned at your levity, his cheeks becoming dusted with a light pink. “You’re such a bully,” he teased. 

You shrugged. “Get used to it.”

“I will. Much like I thought I would, I kinda like you.”

You nodded. “I’m sure that as I get to know you, I’ll end up liking you too, you snob.”

[mzyrimworld]

Duster Part 13: Quadrum 13

Last time was actually fairly quiet (which doesn’t usually bode well) - Lion and Steroid got married, and real progress was made on prosthetics research and Zeiph actually made some. But will colonists survive receiving them...?

The quadrum has barely begun when a transport pod crash lands towards the edge of their region! The colony’s pretty large already, but there’s space in the hospital right now to rescue somebody. And, hang on a minute, his name is Bellerose?

Yes! It is literally Priscilla’s father! Well, if he came here deliberately, looking for his daughter, he’s a quadrum and a half too late for that unfortunately...

For anybody who’s forgotten, the last remaining prisoner is still suffering with an infection and it isn’t looking good. The colonists are giving him better quality medicine now, but it could be a close thing...

The colonists are informed of an item stash! It does look pretty good; there are several colonists who could use glitterworld medicine to fix their anxieties, and the last techprof subpersona core really saved some research time on the multi-analyser. Perhaps they’ll send out a party if nothing drastic happens in the meantime.

An election! It had been so long since the last one at the previous settlement that I’d forgotten they like to have these. Interesting that neither of the previous candidates have run again. And Lion and Steroid are running against each other! Let’s see what their respective policies are...

Not bad, Steroid seems to be running on a platform of equality, freedom and advancement. He’s also the only person with a family member in the colony, so perhaps Vas will give him a boost...

Perhaps not surprisingly, Lion’s platform has some similarities to her husband’s, though she sounds tougher in decisions and kinder to the ‘weakest members’. Lion’s also the longest resident of the colony who’s running, so perhaps that will help her out.

Frenchy sounds alarmist, arrogant and elitist, but he’s meant to be good at social, so maybe he’ll be able to sell it to the others? Elitism didn’t work well for Zeiph last time...

Emu... Emu can’t possibly win, surely. He’s been in the colony less than one quadrum, his noted traits are ‘annoying voice’ and ‘misogynist’, and he’s known for his brain damage from his last escape attempt. I can’t imagine he would win.

I’m quite surprised Lucya is running, given how quiet she tends to be, and she’s a night owl so people hardly see her a lot of the time. She might not be the worst option, and she’s the second longest resident of the colony running. Perhaps she has a chance?

It’ll be interesting to find out who wins!

Argh, the prisoner reached 98% immunity, but just couldn’t hold out. Oh well, he was trouble enough while he lasted, though his combat skills would have been useful.

Kilo has given birth to the first husky puppy! Little Homer’s father has turned out to be Raider. Still hoping that she might give Jethro a puppy someday.

Priscilla’s father has chosen to join the colony and, er, cannibalism apparently?! Perhaps it’s my privileged urbworld naivety, but some of these people and families boggle the mind.

In any case, he’s another scholar for the colony, has some promise at medicine and also mining for some reason, but he will not fight. Maybe he’ll replace Julio at being chased around by small wild animals. I’m not sure if he’s a worthy addition to the colony necessarily, but the colonists might feel too bad after what happened to Priscilla to push him out.

A ship passes by in nearby space, with the option to sell a few animals. They do offload a few of the muffalo, probably thinking of the silver required to get more plasteel and components for prosthetics. And to prevent more inbreeding when the time comes.

A raid! And using transport pods, our colonists haven’t faced this before. Perhaps they’ll have more advanced weapons as well?

Here’s the first batch - all equipped with throwable explosives...

And the second batch, also with explosives! Of course those can be very dangerous, but they’re also not much use if the colonists can get in melee range. Fingers crossed that nobody gets badly exploded...

Speaking of melee, Vas quickly dispatches one of the most dangerous raiders, and the fellow raider quickly flees faster than the burdened Nobreitra can catch him.

The other colonists have more trouble with the other batch of raiders, and Jay gets set on fire while Dead goes in to melee the one hiding furthest back.

Dead made short work of this one...

And made this one shorter by a head!

This one’s still alive, but full of bullets. If they try to take him prisoner it could be very touch-and-go for him not to bleed to death first...

Not everybody was fighting during all this - the prosthetics research continues, with the ability to make internal organs! Certainly Eri’s missing a kidney, they may be able to fix that soon!

Dead took a few hits, but she’s fine, perhaps thanks to all her armour nowadays.

Jay only took one injury, but it’s a severe one that’s probably not going to be fixed until if/when she loses the whole hand. She’s certainly proved her bravery and dedication in her first battle for the colony though!

This guy will never get that chance - Zeiph couldn’t patch him up in time, and he was getting infected anyway. He was indeed disposable.

The colonists receive a new quest, in return for a bunch of prosthetics! I don’t doubt they’ll look into this, especially following the jade meteorite they had.

Before any of that, though, the colonists feel ready to try putting in some of the new prosthetics. Nobreitra’s first, missing an eye, and one of the more replaceable of the recipients just in case it turns out Julio isn’t safe operating with these home-made prosthetics...

It worked! And well! The first of Zeiph’s prosthetics seems to be a resounding success, and Nobreitra should soon be fit and well to go out on quests as one of the colony’s better fighters.

Before the next surgery can even get underway, the colony’s sent another quest! They’ve never had healer mech serum, but it certainly sounds highly useful, because not all of the conditions the colonists have are curable. Getting rid of Julio’s frailty would be a big help for the surgeries.

Unsurprisingly, the next to volunteer is Lion, who jumps at the chance for more prosthetics, and to get her right ear back. Of course, the other people missing ears are our original colonists, and just because Julio succeeds sometimes doesn’t mean he always will...

Fortunately this is another one of his successes! Lion’s no longer missing any parts, and one side of her head is much better than the other.

Not that she’s satisfied, of course. She’ll always take more parts, given the chance. Though whether her husband wants her to risk going under the knife any more than she already has...

With mostly everyone recovered, the colonists look into the quests - and you can see how much Nobreitra and Lion’s prosthetics have upped their values.

Two parties are sent out - Vas’ mostly fighter party is going west to get the stash they were informed of at the beginning of the quadrum, and Sky’s more diplomatic party is going north to trade the jade. The Healer Mech Serum is also approximately north, so they may wind up looking into that as well if they aren’t attacked on the way.

While they’re off journeying, a heat wave sets in at the base. Not that it tends to be much of an issue for the colony nowadays, as the colonists spend most of their time under the mountain or in air-conditioned rooms.

Vas’ party got to their location swiftly, and honestly it was disappointingly easy. All items obtained, nobody even got hurt. I expect Vas and Nobreitra were looking forward to a fight.

These seem like some very suspect election shenanigans, when nearly half the colony is away on missions. Including one of the candidates, even! Well, if you can really consider Emu a candidate.

Well, whoever did get to vote probably made the right decision, though the fact that she won with 3 votes out of 17 people (7 of whom were away) isn’t that ringing an endorsement. It’s not even a third of the people who were still there. Oh well, judging by last time she’ll lose the job when they move locations, which they probably will fairly soon.

9th of Septober and Vas’ party makes it back home, slowed by Nobreitra getting food poisoning on the way. The colony has more glitterworld medicine available now...

Poor Nobreitra. I wasn’t kidding about the food poisoning, and it’s hit him hard. The problem is actually with Emu, who is generally so bad at everything that he’s been allowed to do the things he’s interested in - including cooking. Which has clearly affected the quality of the food the party took with them on their quest...

Well, this is new. But there’s not much to be done when both Sky and Emu are still off travelling. Sky will just have to deal with it as best they can. Could this be the fault of bad cooking too?

It’s taken a long time, but Sky’s party finally reaches their destination to fulfil the trade, and maybe pick up some more things on offer, particularly plasteel and advanced components.

Of course as soon as they set back out again, the pirates hone in on their valuables...

This party may not be the fighting-est, but it doesn’t take much against one pirate!

Then they arrive at the healer mech serum stash...

The coast looks clear, and we can take this opportunity to check out these sensory mechanities. Strangely, though they are painful and tiring, they actually improve the hosts senses. That could almost be useful?

It turns out the coast is not clear. It’s three vs three, but our colonists might be better equipped?

Jay is downed! And that pirate is making off with the serum, abandoning her pirate accomplices! The colonists are not going to catch her at her speed... Frustrating.

Sky tends to Jay’s mostly superficial wounds, while the remaining pirates cry for help on the sand. Looks like there will be some prisoners to take back at least...

Emu patches the prisoners up while the others rest for the night. The prisoners look to be an elderly woman and a younger man, but they have to get back to the base safely first.

Speaking of the base, they have their own troubles, with the largest raiding party we’ve seen so far. I guess it’s nice to know that they include their elderly in activities? No such thing as retirement here...

The colonists jump in to try and get the better of them before they get too close to the base and more defenseless members...

It doesn’t take too much to scare them into fleeing back where they came from, and as usual at least some of the raiders outpace our colonists.

Not all of them, though.

Dead did most of the damage to this one too. Remember when Dead was a music teacher? Are any of her old students out there watching this?

This one looks to have been dispatched by Vas...

This one too...

Vas really gets through them.

Vas again, but the shooters do play their part.

Now to survey our colonists’ own damage: Frenchy got stuck into his own first fight, taking some shots, but hopefully no lasting damage.

Dead only took a bruise from a pistol whip...

Vas took a bit of melee damage, but he gave a lot more than he got. It will be a worrying day if/when the colony loses Vas.

Morales took one shot to the leg, but he should be fine.

Lion should also be fine, if she will go and lie down so she can be treated before she bleeds out from that shot to her torso.

And with that the quadrum ends! There weren’t as many prosthetic operations as there might have been, but also nobody died, and some quests have been safely completed. Hopefully next time will have fewer raids and more successful surgeries!

Final Stats:

Nobreitra: Has two eyes again!

Lion: Has two ears again! And is mayor!

Jay: Lost a finger by burning

Bellerose: Recruited and reunited with his daughter! ... Sort of?

Emu & Sky: Sensory mechanites?

Vas & Zeiph: Invaluable

Julio: Hoping his surgical luck holds out!

Colony: Gained one colonist, lost one prisoner, gained two other prisoners, sold a few nameless animals

[swampgallows]

it’s becoming harder and harder for me to find solace in places. the guilt inside me is becoming heavy. i know that if i want something, i need to make it happen, but i am so exhausted of having to do everything myself. and the things i do get help with i feel grateful, of course, but then so guilty that i’m needing to be helped that it’s incapacitating. i’m just so late in the game to everything. i’m so outside of life and what other people are doing. i’ve always felt that way, though. i’m never gonna snap into place like they want me to. 

i need to pick a career and stuff. i just have to like shot in the dark pick something at this point because there isn’t going to be some divine calling, my pittance from art commissions is not gonna be enough to sustain me (and i dont think i can get to a point where it will), im just so bogged down knowing that everybody is fuckin poor. 

part of me wishes i could wake up and just ‘be normal’. that i could throw away all the weird stupid shit in my life. the trashy little kid bracelets, the clown clothes, the nerdy interests, the ugly monsters (what on earth is an ‘orc’?), the hundreds of heavy and just plain weird records that are sooo boring and irritating and repetitive and loud and obnoxious. all the shit i’ve internalized about stuff i am beyond passionate about, the only fuel that keeps me alive and gives me a reason to wake up in the morning. i read once about brain trauma, that someone suffered an injury and when they woke up, all of their interests changed completely. they were a classically-trained musician, iirc, and ended up just selling all of their instruments and getting rid of all their books etc because it had absolutely no value to them anymore. they were completely changed. i dont remember what their new interests became, but... the thought of that has haunted me for over a decade. maybe someone will hit me in the head just right until i wake up and be a normal person who cares about normal, accessible things instead of all this fringe and abrasive fantasy bullshit. what if i woke up one day and became a devout christian? i roll over and my room is foreign to me, along with everything in it, and then i just throw it all away? i start over, stripped clean. tabula rasa. i get good interests instead. relatable adult things, like gourmet food and backpacking. i titter with the girls at the office and wear pencil skirts and focus on landing me a tall dark and handsome. 

the thought of becoming that thing is heartwrenching. painful. but it’s all obvious, of course, why i would ever have that masochistic fantasy of completely disowning my worthless oblong self. a me that isn’t ‘ruined’. 

i went through my kandi stash the other day trying to find all my kandi with bells on it (I could have sworn i had more). and going through a lot of it was a flood of memories. high school, college, raver days. when i was in high school, all by my lonesome, the only candy kid or rave-associated ANYTHING in my 4000+ fellow students, i had to wear a lot of my own kandi. and i did so as a beacon, a lighthouse, hoping that i could be a beaming signal to any other candy kids who might be in hiding. and i got so dizzy and self-consuming with my repressed interest that i became a zealot about it, being extremely rude and elitist about my interests because i felt a need to protect them. i felt the pressure of them looking to be watered down or erased. i was the same with warcraft. 

ten years later i’m not as rude about it, but i feel exactly the same way. in high school i had to wear my own kandi, would have it ripped off of my arms in big fistfuls by those who ostracized me, and had to be tongue-in-cheek and submissive about my passion, my very real and non-ironic DEVOTION to this. thank god on tumblr i can write 4000 word dissertations about garrosh hellscream and some of you crazy fucks actually bother to read it, but sometimes i still feel like that kind of pariah for having a very niche and very specific fixation. 

even people who played warcraft when i was in high school told me i took it too seriously because i roleplayed; and even roleplayers in the game told me i took it too seriously because i didnt want to sit around for 6 hours pretending to drink alcohol and trying to get laid, except as an elf. the fact that i really wanted to discuss the lore and delve into the story and the universe of azeroth, of how it would feel to be in that place, to live that life, ostracized me even from the people who claim to feel the same way. but roleplay was never about focusing on how our veins dont surge anymore as undead, how your digestive organs need to be removed post-undeath so they dont explode and rupture and hang out of your bowels like the abominations in the Undercity, how the undead are technically still the same citizens of Loraderon but are being ousted by their living counterparts in neighboring kingdoms. it was just “haha im a funny dead pirate man and i’m going to womanize 12 blood elf women at once behind all of their backs.”

in trying to become a gabber dj too, i felt like i had to take it upon myself because nobody else plays the music that i like. but alll of these things... it feels like i’m just building a house by myself. i feel like nobody truly, at the core, appreciates the intersection of interests that i have, or can only smile and nod at my fervor but not really understand it. and it’s nobody’s fault, nobody is obligated to feel what i feel. 

i’m glad people enjoy the garrosh posts and art that i make. and i’m glad that my friends make kandi with me now and encourage me to play gabber. i’m happy when i get some really good RP, even if i have to be the one to walk up every time. i’m glad that people want me to “do the thing”. i just feel like... there is no payoff once it’s done. everyone gets glad that it’s finished, and they enjoy it then, but then it dissolves. nobody is invested in it but me.

i know the solution is to be more accessible, but i can’t seem to imagine anything other than swinging the pendulum in the opposite direction. like, all or nothing. either you take all of my german expressionism with the warcraft meta and the rave shit, or you get nothing. i dont know how to dilute myself and that’s part of what was killing me at my job. i felt like a novelty. a doll. but it wasn’t their fault.. they couldnt relate to what i was talking about and passionate about, and it’s not their fault. they liked me because i was well-spoken and funny and a diligent worker, which are all nice and accessible things, but when nobody can cathect with me, really empathize with me, i feel like a jester. a consumable. 

my college roommates would tell me that they loved me because i was so funny. and that’s it. i existed as entertainment, but anything human about me—my passions, my interests, my insights, my memories—meant nothing. even my family will ask me a question and then cut me off in the middle of my sentence, expressing more of just their disbelief or confusion about something than actually seeking information. it’s why i stopped answering customers when they’d ask “how did you dye your hair?” and, like an idiot, i attempted to explain the process to them, thinking they actually wanted to know. but a few words in and their eyes glazed over, probably because they weren’t expecting a “real answer”. i began to accept that any questions directed toward me were closer to passive acknowledgements of me just standing there and existing in their field of vision than any sort of actual desired input from me. it’s like when people ask “how are you?” and you are obligated to say “fine” because it is the rote response. if you actually start talking about how you are doing, you are violating the socially agreed upon script of pleasantries. 

i cant do small talk. i cant do scripts. i dont get it. it doesnt make sense to me. and i think retail killed me because of that. i wasn’t a person. i wasn’t even an NPC. i was just a doll. an actor. a pull-string action figure with 5 fun phrases. i was so wacky and weird with my green hair and my silly bracelets and funny observations. ho ho what fun it is to work here with our personal jester to tell us funny stories about her cuh-razy antics she gets up to!

like how nate said “the craziest thing of someone’s year will be seeing someone play the legend of zelda theme on an accordion at a convention and for us that’s just like a walk down the street”. 

my feet straddle two divergent worlds and i cant pick just one but im about to fall in the crevice.

man i fuckin love ratatouille man. i fuckin love that film. i cant choose between two halves of myself. even when the halves want the other half dead.

i need a liaison. where’s MY linguini????

[ladylilithprime]

do all the even numbersssssss

~evil stare~

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one?

Ugh.... Animorphs, Marvel, Sailor Moon, Tomorrow People, Firefly, Gundam Wing, Princess Tutu, DC Comics universe, Smallville, Danny Phantom, YURI!!! On Ice, Supernatural, Star Trek, Star Wars, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Daria, How To Train Your Dragon, Rise of the Guardians, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Power Rangers, Fullmetal Alchemist, Miraculous Ladybug, Phineas and Ferb, Gravitation, Yami no Matsuei, Weiss Kreuz, My Little Pony, FAKE, ElfQuest, Good Omens, Chronicles of Narnia, Lord of the Rings, Transformers, Stargate SG1, Pirates of the Caribbean, Highlander, The Sentinel, Boondock Saints, MacGyver, and a whole wild world of crossovers..... Yeesh. Anyway, I don’t have a particular favorite, though I will go through periods of working exclusively in one fandom or another before switching.

4) What is your favourite genre to write for?

Fanfic genre? Probably Alternate Timeline/For Want Of A Nail fics, where a single change in the timeline causes events to play out differently. I also have a weakness for time-travel fics. ^_^

6) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why?

I thought we agreed never to speak of it again?

8) Where do you take your inspiration from?

Everywhere. Literally everywhere. Frequently from just sitting around letting my brain wander.

10) In your fic A Wish Your Heart Makes, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have an alternative ending in mind?

I’ll be completely honest: the moment I got the prompt, I knew how the story was going to end. If anything, I made it less angsty than originally intended.

12) Who is your favourite character to write for? Why?

Depends on the fandom. In Marvel, regardless of the universe, I love writing for Tony and his flashy misdirection and nicknames hiding a wealth of genius and depth and background that the surface never shows. I have similar reasons for enjoying writing Sam Winchester in Supernatural. However, in Fullmetal Alchemist I love writing for Jean Havoc, a theoretical background character who is still deeply important to the narrative and has all sorts of depths to explore despite his canon dissembling about how “I ain’t the brightest, but I get by”. Basically, I guess I just love characters that have way more going on in their heads than gets shown on screen.

14) How did you come up with the title for Twist The Sinews Of Thy Heart? - You can ask about multiple stories.

It’s actually a line from the poem “Tyger Tyger Burning Bright”. Appropriate choice for a fic that features a “crazy” angel rescuing technically extinct tiger cubs. eh?

16) How did you come up with the idea for Twist The Sinews Of Thy Heart?

My dear enabler @rodiniaorzetalthepenquin asked for “fluffy Sastiel with tiger” for her birthday, and by Chuck I delivered! XD

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

Technically, yes, but I don’t exactly consider them abandoned. I have WIPs whose bunnies decided to fuck off to Monaco and chill with porn stars go on an extended vacation, and so they got put on the back-burner while I pursued other avenues in other fandoms, but I don’t think I’m capable of abandoning a WIP. I either finish it or straight-up kill it.

20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently?

There are a couple of fics that I wish I could have drawn out the resolution longer, but my momentum failed me.

22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?

Yep! Next?

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes?

Eh... I can do it when I need to, but it’s not my preferred thing to write.

26) Which part of your Amethystium fic was the hardest to write?

Definitely part five. I had to write it with just enough ambiguity to keep it from being too obvious exactly what I’d done so I wouldn’t get murdered by my readers.

28) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction?

The internet is full of people who all have different motivations for going online to read fan-created content. Some people are going to be friendly, some are going to be weirdly elitist about fandom, and some of those people are going to be assholes who want to tear you down just because they think they can and believe the internet anonymity will protect them from consequences. Don’t let them drive you out of what you love before you’re ready to move on to something new.

30) In contrast to 29 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

Not really? Maybe some of my really old Animorphs fics that I wrote when I was twelve upon which I look back and feel like I could have done so much better?

32) Are any of your characters based on real people?

Sure, sometimes. Mostly the blink-and-you-miss-them NPCs. Occasionally some of the bigger OCs are based off of real people, but I try not to tell people that, or of whom the character is a representation. ^_~

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

Probably the person who kept harping over my “obvious” lack of understanding of genetics, when I’d actually done the research prior to writing the fic and had sources to back up my in-story numbers. The person kept after me until I just deleted the entire fic “pending rewrite” to get rid of the whole damn argument chain, and I’ve just never gotten around to reposting it. Not even sure I still have the original fic file, actually.... Anyway, that was both the harshest and most stupid criticism ever, and for twenty-two years of fic-writing, that’s pretty decent, I think. (I don’t count flames, because those are just haters being mean.

36) Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s?

...Sam has wings. ^_~

38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it.

Of the people with whom I would like to collaborate and with whom I have not already collaborated, probably @jupiterjames and @theriverscribe

40) Do people know you write fanfiction?

Some of them, if I trust them a whole hell of a lot or we’re mutually blackmailing each other because they write fanfic too. (Looking at you, @jupiterjames )

42) Song fic - What made you decide to use the song “Bailamos” for Harry Potter.

Honestly? The crackfic potential and the chance to write male/male dance choreography. ^^U

44) What is the last line you wrote?

Rarely was Castiel disappointed in the offerings, and even those disappointments were because he didn't care for the flavors, not because of any fault in the quality of the pastries or drinks offered.

46) I really loved your “Phoenix Ascending” fic. If you were ever to do a sequel, what do you think might happen in it?

Well, Michael would take over and stabilize Heaven, Gabriel would get rescued from Assmodickus without Ketch’s help, Lucifer would die sooner, and Jack and Mary would be rescued fairly close to canon with a few obvious differences. Probably. Maybe. If I was writing a sequel. ~shifty look~

48) What’s your favourite trope to write?

Irritatingly, I love writing Slow Burn. I also hate it. Because it’s slow. And long.

50) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Fluff. Angst hurts to write, frankly, and as for smut.... Meh. I'm really not that good at writing it solo; it's a lot easier to do cooperatively when I have someone else's character reactions to react to, but even then the actual deed is not so important for me as the depths of emotions behind it, so... Fluff.

[kimmyiewrites]

Making Waves ~ Chpt 1

AN: I know I feel like I say it a lot but I’m really excited for this fic. It’s a mermaid au that has so much more going on besides pretty tales and ocean cities. I hope you enjoy and can’t wait to hear what you think. Much love!

She was met with a door in her face. For months now she was greeted with the same phrase from George King, owner of Mermaid Lagoon, and a door slammed in her face. It didn’t stop her though. She kept trying each week despite him telling her that, “The mermaids are fine and if they really didn’t want to be here, they wouldn’t have gotten hurt or caught.” That statement didn’t infuriate her any less than the first time she heard it.

Peggy Atwell had a degree in mermaid biology. Yes, it’s a thing, it’s a further concentration in marine biology. She always dreamed of working with a team doing research and helping the half human creatures of the sea but with each marine biologist she reached out to, she always received some elitist answer claiming that they wouldn’t work with someone who believed in fantasy. Mermaids were in fact real and despite the hundreds that have been captured or taken under the pretenses of rehabilitation for entertainment, marine biologist who had been with the science for a long time still didn’t believe in them.

For as long as she could remember, Peggy was intrigued by the ocean and by mermaids. Her mother, Naomi, said that it was because water ran through her veins instead of blood. To an extent that was true. Peggy’s blood never turned red like human’s did when it hit the air. It remained blue. When Peggy asked her mother about it after discovering that other people’s blood was red, Naomi told her it was because water ran through her veins and that reasoning always stuck until Peggy really began her studies into mermaid biology and culture.

Naomi had done everything she could to keep Peggy away from knowing the truth. When she had taken the baby girl in she had made a promise to the parents of her daughter that she would protect her as much as she could. She even went all the way to get a mermaid biologist to help Peggy when she became ill. So Naomi had to lie at least a little. When Peggy started her studies questions began to come up. To keep her promise, Naomi told Peggy that her father had been a mermaid and that’s why she had some traits.

Peggy believed her mother but what she was told was the furthest thing from the truth. Peggy Atwell was actually a part of a well known family in the mermaid world located in the Atlantic. Her real name was Peggy Schuyler and her mother and father left Peggy with Naomi a few days after Peggy was born. The Schuyler’s were afraid for their youngest since they were running from a couple of catchers from Mermaid Lagoon. The mermaid couple came across Naomi’s sailboat and left Peggy with her so they could get back to their other two daughters.

Despite having to keep her mermaid traits a secret, she had a happy life and was now working at the one place that all mermaid activists hated, Mermaid Lagoon. While she was in college she interned with the rehab facility there and when no one else would take her, she was welcomed back with open arms. This time she wasn’t just apart of the rehabilitation team, she also served as a trainer for some of the exhibits. She hated how other trainers treated their merfolk but the ones she worked with always reassured her that she made their stay there worth while.

“Another rejection?” Hercules Mulligan, one of the custodians and overall handy man of the park asked Peggy as she marched by him.

She huffed before letting out a small growl in frustration. She turned on her heel to face one of the only coworkers she could say she was friends with. “I just don’t get it Herc! I have given him evidence that these pools are just way too small for them. There are some mers that have tail deformities because they’ve been here so long and their pools aren’t big enough.”

“He’s not gonna listen to you unless the money starts talking, you know this but good for you to sticking to your beliefs. Just don’t go getting fired, huh? There’s some people around here that would not be too happy to see you gone.” He reached out and gave her arm a squeeze. Hercules really liked Peggy and the merfolk he talked to about her had nothing but good things to say. He was quite serious about her not getting fired. He needed to make sure that things stayed on track and Peggy no longer being here was not a part of the plan.

Peggy sighed and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’ll let it be for now. I’m starting to sound like a broken record anyway.” She patted his hand with a small smile. “I’m gonna go check on Johnny Boy so I’ll see ya around. Try not to have fun without me.” She pointed at him as she backed away.

Hercules laughed and rolled his eyes. “Because I could have so much fun without you here.”

She laughed as she turned back around to head towards the rehab facility. Mermaid Lagoon was part zoo, part amusement park. Dispersed between the different tanks were roller coasters and other thrill rides that the park’s visitors could ride. At certain times there were feedings, entertainment shows that included tricks, and educational tours. So at each tank there was plenty of standing room and a small seating area. If it was a special show then the mers were transported from their usual tank to the main pool that was in the middle of the park. Seating was set up like an amphitheatre and the seats closest to the pool were labeled the splash zone.  

When Peggy wasn’t out in the main part of the park she was back in the rehab facility. The rehab was its own building near the front of the park, off to the side. This is where donations were asked for despite the outlandish ticket prices. The building was basically a large warehouse that had three rows of tanks and a larger pool so that the mers could swim laps and do other exercises that could help get their strength back. Suspended above the tanks were walkways so that the biologists could walk around above the tanks so they could talk with the mers they were helping recover from various injuries. This walkway and even the floor of the rehab had special employee only entrances. The visitor entrance lead to a loft type space where visitors could look down below to watch as employees worked with the mers. In the visitor space there were posters and other interactive screens that told them what was happening down below. The only time visitors were allowed on the suspended walkways was if they were apart of an educational tour.

As soon as John saw Peggy along the walkway he swam up to the top of his tank, crossing his arms over its edge as he waited for her to get closer. He hated being trapped here but Peggy always made it better. It was probably because she unknowingly reminded him of home. She waved at him when she saw him pop up, remembering the day that John was brought into the facility. That day was forever seared into her brain. She had been so scared for him, as she was with every boating accident she worked on.

She was working with another mermaid on tail exercises when Theo, another woman that Peggy worked with in rehab came rushing down the floor screaming Peggy’s name. Peggy hopped down from the platform on the pool but before she could even get a word in, Theo was dragging her down the row towards the direction of the small medical bay they had in the far back corner of the building. This was where they examined each mermaid that came in or if one of their performers fell sick. “Male, looks to be about in his twenties if we were going with human age, boat hit his tail, it’s bad.” Theo stated as she pushed Peggy towards the room where she could get into scrubs instead of her wetsuit.

“Are they trying to stop the bleeding? I need to know vitals and need to have all surgery utensils prepped. We need to keep his tail wet, if he starts to transition that is not going to bode well for him, at all.” Peggy started to give out orders. She was the youngest member of the rehab team and yet when the original lead doctor retired, he had given the position to Peggy. She had shadowed under him and knew all of the procedures they did on the regular like the back of her own hand. There were some people that doubted the doctor’s decision but after watching her work her first emergency surgery, those doubts were quickly erased.

Once she was in her scrubs, Peggy ran to the procedure table. Wet towels were laid underneath him while the team was trying to get him to stop fighting them. “You haven’t sedated him yet?!” Peggy cried, rushing to his side. Theo prepared the anesthesia and waited for Peggy’s order. “Hello, my name’s Peggy and my friend Theo will be giving you some medicine so I can get you all patched up okay? Is that okay?” She had cupped his face and was looking directly at him, trying to get him to calm down.

His eyes had widened when he saw her face. He couldn’t believe that Peggy Schuyler was here, that he was talking to Peggy Schuyler. He had come up to the surface with Angelica and Eliza once when they were trying to find their long, lost sister. They had found her sitting on a sandbar in a secluded part of the beach. The sisters had asked him to draw a picture of her for them and he happily obliged. She didn’t look sad this time. She looked scared but determined. He nodded his head, figuring he would be in good hands if he was in the presence of a Schuyler sister. The last thing he saw before everything went black was Peggy looking over to whom he assumed was Theo.

Peggy jumped into action as soon as his eyes closed. She focused on his tail first, made sure nothing was severely broken before focusing on the bigger cuts along his tail. She performed something similar to a skin graft for the larger cuts and then did a basic stitching for the smaller cuts. The procedure took hours and when she was done they put him in a shallow pool until he woke back up.

The healing process was long but two months had passed and he was showing great progress. The smaller cuts were all healed but the larger cuts were still healing and they were working on getting his tail strength back as well as learning how to swim again with the tears in his tailfin. “Rejected again, huh?” John asked once Peggy had reached his tank.

She sighed and nodded her head. “Herc thinks I should pause my efforts for the time being. Doesn’t want to see me fired.” She rested her arms on the railing of the walkway so she could be at about the same height as John was.

“Well, yeah, there would be a lot of mers not happy if you were suddenly gone.” He agreed with a nod. “Me included.”

Peggy smiled, reaching out to give his arm a reassuring squeeze. “I can’t go making you unhappy now can I? Guess that means I’ll actually listen.” She teased him as she pushed herself from the railing. “How we getting to the pool today? Do I need to get the cart or are you gonna swim?”

“I’m gonna give swimming a go. Just don’t start to freak out if I take a long time. My stamina’s not what it used to be.” John answered her with a small smile.

“We’ll get you there, now get going. I’ll meet you over there.” Peggy waved him off as she turned on the walkway and headed down to the pool. As she walked down the steps to the main floor, she looked up to the viewing area to see if she and John were about to have an audience in his therapy session today. He seemed to always want to try and show off when that happened. There were kids pressed up against the glass with older kids and parents standing back so the younger kids could see what was going on. Peggy gave a smile and a wave before she hit the main floor.

There was a small platform that was attached to the side of the pool where most of the trainers usually worked from. They were able to jump into the pool from the platform if needed. Peggy climbed the ladder up to the platform just as John swam into the pool. He came up for air and swam towards the platform, pulling himself up on it. His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Peggy sat down next to him, toes barely skimming the water. “What happened to taking it easy on the way over?”

“I thought I would be fine but that was a bad thought.” He panted, gripping the edge of the platform.

She rubbed his back and walked him through some breathing exercises until he recovered from his little excursion. She really did hate when she had an audience for her training session with John. “Ready for some exercises?”

John nodded and brought his tail up to the platform, laying down on his back. Peggy did the same thing, lifting her legs in the air, keeping them together and angling her feet out so it would look like a mermaid tail. “We just need to get you a tail already. Those fake ones you humans wear are not the most ideal but I would make an exception for you.” John told her, chuckling a bit.

Peggy laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind when I go through the gift shop again but for now this is what you’re stuck with so c’mon, tail up.” They worked through different exercises before they both lowered themselves into the pool. This was one reason why the mers kept in the rehab liked when they got to work with Peggy. She did all of the exercises with them until she felt like she could just sit back and watch to make sure they were doing things properly. She had talked Theo into doing the same thing but she just showed them what she wanted them to do before she sat back and watched. The others stayed on the platform and practically barked orders.

“You did so great today.” Peggy said as she pulled herself up onto the platform.

“Thanks.” He smiled as he floated on his back around the pool.

Peggy shook her head as she wrung out the water from her ponytail. “Can I trust you to get back to your tank okay? I’d like to check on Angelica and Eliza before I leave today.”

John nodded and went to treading water. “Tell the Schuyler’s I said hello and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You got it.” She waved before climbing down. She grabbed a towel from the table sitting next to the pool and continued drying off as best she could as she made her way back outside to the park. She tossed the towel towards the dirty linen hamper as she passed it and poked her head into Theo’s office. “I’m checking on the Schuyler’s and then I’m headed home. You good?”

Theo looked up from the paperwork she was doing. “Yeah. Just catching up on some stuff before heading out myself. I’ll see ya tomorrow.” She smiled up at her friend.

“See ya later then!” Peggy said with a wave as she continued on her way.

The exhibits were decent sized she supposed even if she fought to make them bigger. There really wasn’t much room to swim as mers were used to. They were about two olympic sized pools long and attached to the main pool was a smaller one where the mers could go into. It was a den like area much like with zoo exhibits there’s always a place for the animals to go inside.

Peggy entered the Schuyler’s exhibit through the employee entrance near the back. She pressed the button along the wall that would ring a bell and flash a light in the pool to let them know that she was here. She walked to the edge of where the smaller pool was and sat down, dipping her feet into the water. She didn’t have to wait long before Angelica and Eliza popped up, pushing their hair back out of their faces. “Peggy!” They exclaimed as they swam closer to her. The two older Schuyler’s hated that they had to get to know their baby sister this way but were just happy that they were able to get to know her.

“Hey guys!” She smiled, bending down enough so that she could give them each a hug as best she could. “John also says hello and I still very much got a door closed in my face.” She updated them on all that essentially happened since the last time they talked that day.

“You’ll get him next week.” Angelica smiled, encouraging her little sister to keep fighting for what she believed in.

“That’s the thing. I ran into Herc right after and I think I’m gonna press pause on trying to talk with King. I don’t want to lose my job.” Peggy explained, nervous about the sisters’ response.

Angelica looked disappointed but before she could say anything, Eliza spoke up. Angelica was stubborn and wanted to keep the fight going until the change was made. Eliza knew though that sometimes the best strategy is to wait until the perfect moment arrived for an attack. Besides if Peggy lost her job here then future plans could be ruined. “We don’t want you to lose your job either. We’ve gotta put away the,” she paused momentarily to try and think of the name. It wasn’t coming to her so she continued on, explaining what she was thinking of. “The game that has the red and black pieces and play the game that has the knights but is played on the same board.”

“Checkers and chess?” Peggy asked for clarification.

Eliza’s eyes lit up. “Yes! That’s the one. We’ve gotta put away the checkers and starting playing chess.” She nodded confidently, giving Peggy a reassuring smile.

“Thanks, Liza.” Peggy returned the smile. “I’m certainly going to try. I’m not very good at chess.” She laughed, pulling her feet out of the water. “Is there anything you two need before I head home?”

“Nope, we’re good.” Angelica said with a wave.

“We’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well, Peggy.” Eliza smiled, waving as she watched her younger sister leave. She then turned to Angelica. “Are you sure we can’t just tell her? I want to be able to really talk to my sister.”

Angelica sighed. “I know, Lizzy. I do too but you know what Herc told us.”

“Yeah, I know. Still doesn’t mean that I like it.” Eliza sighed and dove back under the water.