#its not my fault the admins chose to do what they did

[stinkylittleanon]

I need someone to request dysphoria comfort headcanons from, I'm fuckin going through it at school this week

[softsillytwsted]

Among Us with the First Years

Yall guess who’s late to the party! I played a long session with my friends and it jump-started my writing.

Warnings: mentions of blood and violence.

General

First of all, the number one rule of this game is to keep quiet and stay anonymous until the next meeting, but no one follows this. For one thing, y’all are sitting in a circle while playing this so it’s hard not to talk

Ace also finds it extremely funny to mess with Deuce and Sebek

Then there’s Grim who can’t play and is instead back-seat playing on your lap. He is also honest to a fault so it’s obvious when you two are the imposter

Ace, Deuce and Epel are always down to play, but it takes Jack and Sebek some goading for them to join. Luckily Jack never backs down from a competition and Lilia encourages Sebek to ‘enjoy his youth’

You all usually play a quick game during lunch time or do sleepovers at Ramshackle and play all night long

ANGRY RANTS IN THE GHOST CHATS

The emergency button was pushed. “Speed run on Ace let’s go!”

Ace

Ace uses the red character with the cherry hat

He’s the best at this game hands down

This smooth talker is good at persuading people, especially Deuce, to his side

He can also start a harmless conversation while murdering someone in cold blood like a psychopath

Maybe because he loves playing tricks on people that he’s able to use sabotages to his full advantage

Although Ace is the best at the game, because he’s a little shit he’s on everyone’s hit list and will die if he’s not careful

Surprisingly enough, Deuce isn’t Ace’s favorite person to kill. It’s Sebek. Sebek’s reactions just make everything funnier.

Ace looked at the task bar. “It’s been silent for awhile now. Who’s not done with their tasks yet?”

“I’ve finished,” replied Epel, the pouting ghost.

“Same,” you chirped while Grim huffed in your lap.

“I finished too,” Jack, the ghost, responded as he hovered disapprovingly at the imposter in-game.

“I-I still got a few left...” Deuce muttered.

“I have a few left as well,” Sebek declared. You/Grim, Deuce, Sebek and Ace are the only ones alive. 

“Well, I’m done,” Ace sighed. “Can you two hurry up? It’s getting kinda boring waiting around like this.”

Oxygen tanks have been sabotaged.

“Funny how this happens right after you said that!” Grim accused Ace. “Y/n! Get the top one, the top one! We’re not gonna lose this game!”

“Alright already! Deuce stop panicking and finish up your tasks. Ace or Sebek should do-”

The moment you reached your destination, you watched helplessly as Ace’s cherry red character slashed your character in pieces. Grim hissed in annoyance as you silently stared up at Ace. He winked at you.

“-the bottom one...”

Deuce

Deuce uses the dark blue character with the egg

Ace is the first person he goes after when he’s the imposter

Unironically likes to do the tasks and is the fastest at doing them

He also can’t multi-task. Focusing on his tasks while watching out for corpses and the imposter is impossible for him

Will literally run past a corpse 5 times before finally noticing it

This boy isn’t good under pressure especially when everyone is yelling at him. If the oxygen tanks or reactor is sabotaged, Deuce will bang on every wall before reaching it 

Also can’t come up with a good alibi when accused

Epel pushed the emergency button.

“I believe Deuce is the imposter... when I was passing by I saw him standing still in the hallway and when I came back he was still there.”

“W-what? No no no I wasn’t! I was moving around! I’m not the imposter!” 

“That sounds exactly like what an imposter would say!” Sebek barked.

“Yep, I definitely think Deuce is the imposter,” Ace chuckled. Ace doesn’t really care if Deuce was the imposter or not. The frustrated look on Deuce’s face as he tries to think of a way to clear his name fueled the ginger’s amusement. 

“I don’t know, maybe he was just taking his time looking at his map like the last few games?” You tried to defend Deuce, but only Jack agreed with you.

“Nah let’s kill him.” Ace

“Ya.” Epel

“Ditto.” Grim

“Agreed.” Sebek

“...” Jack

And so Deuce was ejected into space where it was revealed that he in fact was not the imposter. He pouted at his phone, still trying to figure out where to go next. “I told you I’m innocent.”

“Cheer up Deuce! Next time should be better,” you giggled at him. Deuce perked up at your laughter and beamed at you.

“Thanks for believing in me back there. I can count on you next time right?”

“...Deuce did you forget the imposter is chosen at random?”

The imposter was later revealed to be Epel.

Jack

Chose the white character with the ski goggles

The second worst player in the game

Is the person who always enforces others not to group together, but when he sees two people in a room he will hover over the door to make sure one of them won’t kill the other

The boy has a hard time lying and faking doing tasks and everyone exploits this

The quickest games are when he’s the imposter and sometimes it’s over before he can even kill someone

When Jack is innocent: “Jack are you the imposter?” “No”

When Jack isn’t: “Jack are you the imposter?” Ears flat, tail lifeless “...”

This game gives him the worst existential crisis because a part of him wants to play with all his might but the other JUST. CAN’T. LIE.

You found Sebek’s cold body lying in the admin room. All hell breaks loose once you report the body.

“FINALLY SOMEONE FOUND MY BODY! I was getting frustrated when SOMEBODY keeps passing me,” Sebek shouts while looking pointedly at Deuce.

Deuce shamefully looks away.

“Alright let’s start with the usual questions,” you began and turned to Jack. “Jack are you the imposter?”

“...No.”

“Okay Jack’s out-”

“Hold it! We shouldn’t rule out Jack just because he said so!” Ace interrupted you with a scowl on his lips. Jack snarled at the accusation. 

“Are you calling me a liar?” he growled out. Unperturbed at the 192cm wall of muscle who was bristling at him, Ace’s face twisted into a mocking smirk.

Well I ain’t calling you a truther. “That’s the whole point of the game! For all we know, you could’ve finally wizened up and are lying to us now!”

“...Ace has a point,” Deuce held his chin in thoughtful agreement. On the other hand, you and Epel were conflicted. 

“I’d say we vote Ace out,” Grim said with a sly grin on his face. “I saw his character look at us funny.” The little monster still held a grudge against Ace for saying Grim sucked at the game. (”But it’s true! You’re paws can’t even hit the buttons!” “Shut up Ace!”)

“That is suspicious,” simple, easily swayed Deuce agreed. 

“Wait wait wait! How the fuck does that make sense?” Ace retorted. At the same time, Grim began smashing his paws at the screen and managed to vote for Ace. (“Hah! Take that Ace!”)

Deuce cast his vote immediately after, and Jack followed up while sending an amused smirk towards Ace. Epel was red in the face from trying to hold in his laughter from the silliness of it all. Eventually, he managed to vote for Ace.

Ace was ejected into space. Crew mates win.

“Lucky guess,” Ace grumbled under his breath.

Epel

Epel chooses the purple character and uses the straw hat

Has the most wins under his belt and is that one player that never gets killed 

Epel usually plays it safe until someone riles him up and now he’s killing like he’s got something to prove

The master of vent assassinations.

Seriously. Usually when the first body gets reported, it’s been discovered that two other people have been killed already.

Tends to go on cams more than do the tasks

You, Ace and Jack were doing tasks in the electrical room. The lights go off and Epel’s purple character jumps out of a vent to stab you with its tongue. When the lights come back on, Epel is gone. Jack discovers your dead body and reports it immediately.

“It was Ace. I was in the same room with him and Y/n when the lights were off. Then he killed Y/n.”

“Hah? No way why would I do something that obvious?”

“So you admit you’re the imposter?”

Everyone votes Ace out. You discreetly squint at Epel for being so devious, but the lavender-haired boy only smiles sweetly at you in return. You were Epel’s first kill in this round, so after you finished your tasks you spent the rest of the game following him around. 

You quickly realized that nothing was more frightening than Epel, a 156cm ball of fury.

You watched him hide in the medical room’s vent while Jack was being scanned. The minute Deuce, who stuck around to see Jack start the scan, left the room Epel jumped out and murdered Jack in cold blood. You saw Jack flinch as his character died, but he resumed his tasks without a grumble.

With only two people left alive, Epel stalked the halls to look for his last kill. He found both Sebek and Deuce in the cafeteria. One is at the vending machine, and the other is at the garbage disposal. Deuce finished first and spied Epel heading towards Sebek. “Oh Epel, did you finish your ta-” he watched as Epel’s character slashed into Sebek. The game ends soon after.

Thanks to Epel, the kill cool down was extended... again.

Sebek

Chose the lime green character with the horns (”THEY’LL NEVER BE AS MAJESTIC AS WAKA-SAMA’S”)

Living in the Valley of Thorns has him unfamiliar with technology in general so he’s extremely clumsy with the controls.

He also has a hard time navigating the area and is always hitting the walls and missing the doors

Also the slowest at doing tasks 

Speaking of tasks, there was one game where he thought he finished all of them and he ended up giving the imposter enough time to kill everyone (”If the tasks are not all green that means you didn’t finish them!” “WHAT!?”)

Sebek is very mission-oriented and although he considers it beneath him to lie, he will to fulfill his objective

Will go the long way around to try and avoid his shifty friends

Absolutely fun to tease but not the worst at the game to be fair

“Wait so who did you see kill Jack, Deuce? Sebek or Hot Sebek?” you asked the teal-eyed teen. 

“For the last time STOP USING MY NAME!”

“Quiet normal Sebek,” you shushed him. “Let Deuce talk.”

“It was the hot one... H-hot Sebek.” Poor Deuce tried so hard to contain his laughter as he spoke. Ace was already rolling on the floor and Epel was stifling a chuckle with his hand.

Sebek was fuming but stayed quiet while everyone else voted. Soon Hot Sebek AKA Ace gets ejected into space and the crew members win.

“We’re starting a new session and this time no one else will use my name. GOT IT?”

“Sounds good,” Jack said as he glowered at Ace. “I don’t understand why you would want to hide your identity. We should all face each other with everything bared - fair and square!”

“That is exactly right, Jack! Cowardly tactics should be frowned upon!”

Ace deadpanned, “Did you guys forget that’s the whole point of the game?”

[theholycovenantrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, MAL! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF DAMIEN WARD.

Admin Cas: At long last, our Antichrist is among us! Mal, your application left me totally enamoured by the vicious, wicked, and beautiful creature you placed before us. As you pointed out, Damien is a being of halves — half human, half divine, half animal — and yet, nothing in his life has even been done in halves. You breathed such life into him, made him so much more than his epithet or his Vice. The way you used the Prophecy that still lingers, even as it’s been fulfilled, and injected that into your future plots was just so exciting! And, I have to admit, when you mentioned the way that he tugs at his gloves as a threat, as a flex of his power — well, that just felt so DAMIEN. I can’t wait to see what you’ll do with him, and I’m beyond excited to see what ruin he wreaks on the dash! Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Mal

Age | 25

Personal Pronouns | They/them

Activity Level | I’m a full time student and have other general life obligations, but I’m generally fairly free on the evenings and weekends. In numbers I’d estimate my activity at probably a 6/10. 

Timezone | EST

Triggers | REMOVED

How did you find the group?  | I came across one of your beautiful promos in the lsrpg tag, if I recall correctly.

Current/Past RP Accounts | Jove

IN CHARACTER

Character | Damien Ward 

What drew you to this character? | I had Damien’s bio lingering in the back of my head since I first read it, and then Admin Rosey kindly suggested he and I might be a good fit for one another, and I sunk my teeth in. The image of eight year-old Damien standing over a body with wolves licking blood from his hands stuck in me like a fishhook. He’s half-mortal, half-divine, half-wild creature. I am reminded of classical Greek heroes, defined by transgression, made great and made beautiful by the same things that make him monstrous. 

He’s in a position with so much glimmering potential on the horizon. He’s fulfilled his purpose, in a sense, and yet the world remains rebuilt beneath him. Is it enough for it to lift him up as it has? He was not built for times of peace, and here he is living in one. This can only go on so long, and how could I not adore a character surrounded in so much tantalizing possibility?

Also, I am such a sucker for the fascinating family dynamics that surround him. His own mother, who willingly took Lucifer himself into her arms, could not bear the sight of what they’d made together. Damien was made for wild, inky shadows, to be at home among bloody-mouthed beasts. And yet, when hell opened it’s maw to swallow him whole, he found family. An Antichrist who is loved, who might wrestle with his sister like a wolf-pip and turn his face upwards to face the judgement of a mother, and care what she sees. The thought must have been so utterly foreign to Damien as a child, whose mother could not stir a single response from him, for whom he could never find reason to twist his mouth into a smile. And yet he offers Azazel everything she asks for, he listens attentively to his father and learns to craft words of bright silver. It is a remarkable thing, that one could look into Damien’s wild, inky darkness and learn to love him. Perhaps the only thing stranger is that he has learned to love back. 

Also, he’s evil and sexy and I love him.

What future plots do you have in mind for the character? | 

THE FORTUNATE SON | The family dynamics surrounding Damien are stunning, fire-forged and battle-tested, yet razor thin cracks grow along their obsidian surface. They are bound so tightly together, love each other with terrifying ferocity, yet even the closest of bonds can snap when struck from the right angle. They are all caught up in tantalizing possibility, but the crack most likely to become a fissure runs in a sharp, direct line straight from Damien’s ambition to Judas’. 

Damine knows what his pseudo father is: The Great Betrayer. Damien is not blind to the fact that he is a dangerous man to share power with, even an invisible crown. But he took Damien in when he was a hollow and wild thing. The first creature whose eyes Damien found recognition in was a wolf. Judas was the second. Damien has killed with them both. Sons rising up against their fathers is one of the oldest stories in the world. Damien has already lived it, once. In dark, seething moments, he wonders if he may have to live it again. Is Judas, like the wolf, not a creature of his nature? Is placing his trust in his hands not akin to placing his head in the mouth of the beast? And yet... neither has failed him thus far. 

(And yet, he thinks with a secret tenderness he knows may curse him, he loves them both.)

I can see either Damien or Judas turning against the other should the right leverage be applied to their deep yet delicate bond. A war between them would be a terror wrought upon the world and upon themselves. Conflict between them would be devastating and delectable, both to the characters and the world around them.  It might seem nearly inevitable, two ambitions like theirs poised so keenly for conflict, and yet I just as easily see them united should they find another common enemy. Damien’s sights may turn towards Judas should he find himself unable to resist the ache in his jaw to destroy, yet should he be given something else tantalizing to gnash his teeth against, Damien may always find himself choosing the latter. 

SEVEN DEVILS | Outside of his found family, the Vices, each carefully hand-picked for their own strains of terror, are Damien’s closest allies upon this earth. Though even then, loyalty, let alone trust, among demons is a dangerously fickle thing. Even the best of the creatures of hell are a ravenous, power-hungry lot, and Damien is not nearly foolish enough to think none of them might hunger for the power he wields as their self-appointed leader. Raum is the only among them he can truly trust, she who he plucked from obscurity and gave grand purpose, she who is the closest being to him not called family. Yet he chose each of his Vices for a reason, and each of them has unique value to him. I see him trying to craft an individual loyalty with each of them, tethering them all one-by-one to his ambitions.

This is not to say I can’t see him failing in this lofty task, no matter what he might think of his silver-tongue and the bone-chilling power of his mere presence. Damien is perfectly capable of overestimating the power of his own thrall, or of being too caught up in the affairs of his family to hear the whispers passed between them, or countless other faults that may make him vulnerable to those in his inner circle. I would love to explore what may happen should one or more of the vices turn against him, their united front fracturing. Damien believes that he is the one who raised them high, who granted them their lofty titles, and that he has every right to cast them away should they fail him, and I can all too easily see such a move back-firing spectacularly. 

The seven of them create a complex web of loyalties, and as much as Damien prefers to think himself the clever spider at its centre, he is just as capable of being caught up in it as any of the others. 

LIVING IN THE AFTERMATH | Perhaps more of an internal development than an interpersonal one, but I’m deeply interested in exploring how the events since Lucifer was vanquished continue to affect Damien. He never found a father in the Morningstar. The word family will forever evoke Judas, Abbadon, and Azazel before the woman who birthed him and the man who sired him, but the Devil’s blood still runs in his veins. So much of what he is, as acerbic a thought as it may be, is owed to the circumstances of his birth. 

Seizing hell and sending Lucifer careening upward, outcast from the realm he once ruled, was the first step to ridding the Antichrist of his father’s shadow, but it would prove to be far from the last. Three hundred years longer, Damien had to wait with a pernicious, buzzing anxiety, for the last of the Morningstar’s light to finally fade from his eyes, and that too would not bring the end of his influence. Though he did not stand in the way of the search for the bodies of God and his Morningstar, speaking of the affair left his tongue dry and bitter in his mouth. Their time had come and gone. All that was left of them was dust. And besides, if mortal and demonkind so desperately sought what was left of the Morningstar, all they had to do was turn their eyes to his progeny. Lucifer’s blood thrums through his veins, yet they seek his crumbled remains instead? It defies Damien’s understanding. 

The Heretics and their precious Sanctus Terra (a name that to this day he can’t help but feel a petty disdain for) only exacerbated his frustration. Going to war with them was delightful, yes, crushing their ranks between his teeth brought a dark kind of satisfaction he hadn’t felt since he’d seized the Morningstar and ripped him from his throne. Damien could have waged war for centuries, never tiring of the taste of mortal blood, of flexing his power against their generals. But too many others were not so inclined - and it was with disdain (and a fair bit of pressure from those around him) that he agreed to set the war aside to establish the Holy Land. His beloved Azazel being made Moon - though were it up to him, he’d have given her the whole piece of land to her to do with what she pleased - at least served as something of a consolation prize. Even on this so-called neutral ground, the power of his family has made itself known and respected. 

Still, his resentment for the place has not entirely faded, and while he’s willing to at least tolerate most of what it has to offer, some of its residents make that ire come bubbling up to the surface. Namely, Estienne, who in all their lofty arrogance and sly demeanour has come to be emblematic of everything Damien hates about the place. Estienne is but a pale imitation, thinking a touch of plague-given divinity makes them his equal, who seems to seek a dynasty with his own sister not unlike the one Damien has with his. It’s petty, Damien’s disdain, yet powerful. I see Estienne managing to push all of Damien’s buttons, and as much as Damien would like to forget about them entirely, they remain a thorn in his side, with more influence over him than he would ever care to admit. 

CUT FROM THE CLOTH OF FATE | Damien was born swathed in prophecy. Destiny’s shadow has hung over him and lingered behind him for the entirety of his existence. The Antichrist, born to eat the world. And he’s done it, hasn’t he? He has torn the Morningstar from his throne and bit out his throat, he has brought Hell itself to the surface of the earth. Civilizations have fallen to his wrath, cities crumbled under his touch, the world as it was once known torn to pieces and turned to dust. Yet what is destruction wrought when revival follows it like a shadow? 

I see Damien at something of a crossroads. In one sense, his prophecy is fulfilled; he took the world between his teeth and crushed an age to it’s bitter end. Half the world is his in all but name (though Judas’ shadow lurks around every corner, he too crafting himself an invisible throne), but contentedness can not and will not come easily to Damien. Something stirs within him, something yet to be named, perhaps even recognized, but its roots have already taken root in the core of him. Restlessness stirs in his hounds, power festering from underuse, and a quiet, dull ache grows in the set of his jaw. He was made to destroy, not to rule, but he cannot deny that there is something delectable about the word ‘king’.

I see him in quiet, solitary moments turning the prophecy over in his mind. What is one meant to do, once he’s swallowed the world? There are moments he regrets letting it regrow so quickly, giving him so little time to bask in the ruination of his making, and there are moments when he wonders if his prophecy remains unfulfilled, still dark and beckoning. Every moment spent with Nerissa pulls it from him, makes his hands itch to rip off his gloves and feel ruin blossom under his touch once more, this time with no rebirth to follow. There are times still, when he thinks he ought to tear apart the prophecy itself with his teeth, render it as meaningless and obsolete as the ashes of the Old Testament. His father was a king. Perhaps it is time to claim a different kind of birthright. 

I can see Damien turning his sights on The Holy Land and Caelum (and maybe - if those lands have somehow fallen to his wrath - Infernum itself) hungry for destruction at whatever cost it may come.  Just as easily, I can see him looking to his invisible throne and the crown of shadows growing on his brow, and decide that it is time to make them something more tangible. I’m not sure Damien himself knows exactly what he wants, but I know it would be utterly delightful to see which direction the story and the other characters may push him in, and find out. 

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes. But if Damien is going down, he is going down in one hell of a blaze of glory. 

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation | The dark, beautiful thing about Damien is that if he were asked this question, I’m not sure he could give you a solid answer. Oh of course he wouldn’t say as much, his lips would twist up in something not quite a smile, and from his tongue he’d create something lovely and argent, perhaps ask what the earthquake’s driving motivation is to turn a city to dust, or what drives a pack of wolves to tear the stag limb from limb. It would be long after his shadow had ceased to fall upon you, after your bones had warmed from his chill, that you would realize he answered only with questions. That is, if he answered at all, and did not instead slit your throat for the presumption. 

Damien is, above all else, inevitable. The trajectory of his life has forever been defined by what he is more than who. The line between them blurs beyond recognition. Damien is a force of nature, a wild animal, and a fatherless son all in the same breath. He is a creature of ferocious instinct, who knew that he thirsted for the sweet, metallic taste of blood long before he knew why.

All this is to say, Damien’s motivation is a fractured thing. One might call the thing driving his heart to beat and his hands to rend destiny or instinct or hunger, but in a word, I would call it ambition. Damien was born with grand purpose, with a dark, insatiable thirst. He was going to kill the world. Now he’s done just that, in a sense, chewed up the old world and spit it back out, only to watch his pseudo-father carefully tend to the remains. Something new has blossomed from Damien’s destruction and perhaps, were he anyone else, that would be enough. 

Which path to carve forward remains unknown, even to Damien himself, but one thing remains certain: this is not where his story ends. He did not overthrow the Morningstar to live an idle eternity, to bask in even the chaotic peace of Infernum. He balances on the line between ‘prince’ and ‘king’ and yet is permitted to openly call himself neither. He looks to the north and sees wide swathes of earth that do not yet know his destructive trust. All the while, something inside him grows, inky shadows spreading where he stands. So many highs he has yet to reach, so many ways to wield his power against the world. 

What does Damien want? The answer swirls like a storm building inside him, shapeless and impatient. If he really must name it, I believe he would choose a singular, all-encompassing word: MORE. 

Character Traits |

Vicious: Full of vice. Is there a word that more completely sums up all that the Antichrist is? The word may conjure the traditional vices, but it is also a word for the wild, fierce cruelty Damien is capable of embodying so completely. He is vicious in that he is wicked, but also in that if he proclaimed he was raised by wolves one might believe him. Damien is a sharp, dangerous thing, and he bears each vice with pride, but none more than his self-appointed title: wrath. 

Volatile: In certain environments, such as his childhood, one could be easily be mistaken in thinking the Antichrist scarce feels anything at all, cold and distant as he might be. The truth is something else entirely. It might not show on his face until the ice inside him has whirled into a blizzard, but without his gloves Damien’s power would act on its own accord. Damien feels deeply, quickly, and to those who know him well enough can seem almost childish in the changes of his mood. Especially now, when the path before him is so unclear, and Damien finds himself all but itching for his next direction. 

Aloof: Cold is the first word that many think of when they encounter Damien. He walks into a room like the winter chill blowing in. And how fitting it is, that the distant, aloof child of the Morningstar could make even the fires of hell seem cold. Damien is a singular creature; he prefers to stand apart from most (with few exceptions made, for family and to an extent, the Vices). And how could he not, the only half-demon known to walk the Earth? 

Eloquent: Damien came of age under the wing of Judas, the silver-tongued betrayer. He has learned to weave words from the best teacher one could desire. Yet, the Antichrist himself is not a creature of lies by his nature. He may employ them should they be needed, but Damien prefers those who look upon him to know exactly who he is. He barely spoke a word the first eight years of his life, silent as a shadow. Now, every word is chosen carefully, the beauty of his words a sharp contrast between the dread he invokes. 

Passionate: How irritating he finds it, that language so often describes passion as a fire. Damien is a creature of ice and shadow. Passion, for Damien, is a blizzard, whiting-out everything in its path, a glacier, slow-moving and unstoppable, or the nocturnal beasts coming out of hiding at the fall of night, inevitable as it is fearsome. When Damien cares, he cares deeply, and with terrifying ferocity. 

Dauntless: What does the Antichrist know of fear? Damien has never met an obstacle he did not hesitate to rise to meet, not even the Devil himself. As a child he looked down into the fiery mouth of hell and he found himself a home in its fires. Damien is bold, welcoming a challenge, particularly in battle, and does not do well with idleness. 

In-Character Para Sample | 

There’s something wonderfully fascinating about watching the effects of his presence before the affected even knows Damien lingers close by. Even creatures of hell can react like prey animals under the unseen gaze of a wolf, a mysterious chill creeping up their spines, hairs standing on end as they twist their necks in search of the source of their unease. The corner of Damien’s mouth ticks upward at the sight. It’s a rare thing in these languid days of peace, that he gets a chance to flex this particular muscle, lingering in the shadows of Infernum’s ever-ostentatious decor in a dark corner of a busy room. It will not last, the effect of Damien’s presence can only go unnoticed for so long. Sooner or later, the cold will seep deeply enough into someone’s skin to dismiss as a figment of imagination, and he will be given away. He’s only managed to escape notice so far because slipped in from a side-door, treading quickly and silently, and took a vantage point half-covered by a heavy velvet curtain, and, far more significantly, because the room’s attention is fixed on none other than Judas himself.

It’s a rare gift that Damien’s pseudo-father possesses, that silver-tongued charm that makes one believe that no matter what you may have heard about ‘The Great Betrayer,’ this time, you can trust him. Damien understands the mechanics of it, taught from Judas himself, exactly how to weave your phrases, the rise and fall that leaves a room full of creatures as wild as demons hanging on every word. Still, he has so few moments where he gets to watch Judas in his element while unobserved himself, watching with a hint of fondness as he sways opinions word by word. Typically, he would delegate one of the Vices, or perhaps someone below them, depending on the importance of matters, to keep an eye on his parental figure in his stead. Like Judas before him, Damien calls attention to himself by simply walking into a room. The dynasty that Judas, Abbadon, Azazel, and himself have carved out for themselves may not call themselves royalty, but the subjects of Infernum address them as if they wore crowns and carried sceptres all the same. Their power - much like what Judas displays now - is nameless, but it is palpable. 

As much as he enjoys the light thrill of watching from the shadows as Judas works his political machinations, he did not come here just to watch. No, Damien has matters to discuss with his father of sorts, but the opportunity to glimpse him working his schemes unnoticed is not something he was about to turn down, even if the moment might be brief. Unfortunately, there’s nothing especially interesting about the conversation, mere political minutiae Damien rarely has the patience for. Judas reaches a pause and Damien watches a nearby demon shift uncomfortably on her feet, and Damien’s time to linger has come to an end.

“Judas,” he says, stepping out of his shadow-y corner. He cannot pretend it doesn’t bring him some satisfaction, the way the energy of the room so instantly changes. Eyes flit between Judas and himself, unsure where this goes next. There are precious few, who could get away with such an interruption, Damien one of them. He could wait, but why would he? He, too, wears an invisible crown. He, too, demands the attention of all that look upon. Sometimes, he thinks Judas ought to remember that fact. “My apologies for the interruption,” he says coolly. His expression betrays nothing, Judas likely the only person in the room who realizes that Damien has nothing especially urgent to say. Still, the room has come to a standstill, everyone else willing to wait on their two kings. Damien stands still as a sculpture, and watches with silent satisfaction the entire room stills with him, letting the long moment pass. 

“A moment of your time?” 

Extras | 

Headcanons | 

Though he adores the infernal terror of Azazel’s hellhounds, Damien has his own hunting dogs - a pack of wild wolves that came to him almost unbidden. He dotes on them, a reminder of the first wild creatures whose eyes he ever saw himself reflected in, but they are from domesticated. Though they may seem docile under Damien’s touch - lounging at the foot of his imaginary throne - but they are wild, vicious things, far quicker to show their anger than their master. The first sign of Damien’s displeasure is often not a hint in his body language, or even a look in his eye, but the low growl of the wolves at his side.

Serpents and birds of prey flock to Damien as hell, seeming to crawl out of the woodwork when he’s around. He’s open to their presence, but doesn’t dote on him the way he does his wolves. Still, it isn’t unheard of to see Damien with a hawk perched on his shoulder, or with some venomous snake casually curling itself around his ankle. 

Usually, Damien doesn’t mind his lack of wings. It sets him apart from his demonic kin, a reminder to everyone around him that even in the realm of Infernum, he is something else, otherworldly no matter where he might make his abode. That only changes when - for whatever reason - he is in need of fast transport, and must rely on some other demon’s wings. He will not, under any circumstance, admit this out loud, and does what he must with all the animalistic grace that eternally characterizes his movement, but it is - to be frank - rather embarrassing. 

Sometimes, as a threat, Damien will tug on the fingers of his gloves. 

Pinterest

[magnus-the-maqnificent]

Flufftober Day 5

Among Us

“You ready, Alexander?” Magnus asked his husband as he entered into the room.

Alec scoffed. “Obviously, I am.”

It was a Saturday night, and while Magnus usually liked to spend Saturday nights outdoors, having fun, today he was in his bedroom with Alec, and they planned to stay up all night long. Not to talk, or to indulge in other sensual activities, but to play a video game.

It was all Sheldon’s fault. He had gotten every single one of their friends addicted to this game - ‘Among Us’, it was called. Magnus and Alec had both been sceptical of the game at first, and then they’d tried it out in secret, and gotten addicted to it. Not that they would admit it to anyone, of course. They had appearances to maintain.

Alec walked over to him and sat on the bed, stretching his legs out and leaning back into the pillows. “The kids are asleep.”

“Great,” Magnus said, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. “I’ll create a room.”

“Okay,” Alec said, taking out his own phone and opening the game. Magnus created the room and told Alec the number. He watched the screen as a new character popped up next to his - two miniature astronauts, one black with the name ‘Alec’ floating above his head, and the other blue, appropriately labelled ‘Magnificent’.

“Must you always choose black?” Magnus asked.

“Black is nice!” Alec protested. Magnus accepted it with a shrug, and watched as other astronauts popped up, each of a different colour and sporting hats of omelets and cherries and in one case, a wet floor sign. When the count reached ten, he started the game.

“I’m gonna buy a pet,” Magnus declared, looking at one of the astronauts who had a pet crab by his side.

Alec raised an eyebrow. “You want to spend actual money on a game?”

“They’re cute!” Magnus protested. “And you know money isn’t an issue with us.”

“Still, its silly,” Alec said. “They’re virtual. You can’t actually pet them.”

“But they’re nice to look at and they’ll follow you around and be cute,” Magnus said, doing his tasks, which meant dragging wires across the screen to fix them or swiping a card, which took an embarrassing amount of attempts because he could never tell what ‘too fast’ or ‘too slow’ was. As he was making his way to the navigation center from admin, Alec let out a squeak from beside him.

Magnus turned to him. “What happened?”

Alec frowned adorably. “I’m dead.”

Magnus sat up straighter. “Who did it?”

“I’m not supposed to tell you,” Alec pointed out.

“Technicalities,” Magnus said. “Where are you? And who did it? I’m going to throw that asshole out of this spaceship.”

Alec’s lips twitched up into a tiny smile. “This is just a game, you know.”

“And yet,” Magnus said, placing a kiss on Alec’s cheek. “Anyone who hurts you, virtually or otherwise, deserves to be thrown off a spaceship.”

Alec sighed, his lips breaking out into a sloppy grin. “Lower engine. It was lime green.”

Magnus went over to the lower engine as fast as the tiny astronaut's tiny legs could go, but someone clearly found the body before him because ‘DEAD BODY REPORTED’ flashed across the screen, starting a meeting. Immediately, several messages poured in.

‘Where?’

‘Who?’

‘Who’s the imposter?’

‘I was in electric with cyan’

‘Yeah, he’s with me’

‘Lower engine’

Magnus muttered as he typed out, “It was lime green. I saw them kill black.”

“That’s cheating,” Alec said, but Magnus ignored him.

‘No, I was in cafeteria doing task’ came lime’s reply.

‘Yeah I saw him doing tasks’

“Well I was on my way to reactor and I saw him kill black,” Magnus typed out, then told Alec. “See, they’re definitely going to vote him out now.”

Instead,

‘You’re lying’

‘Blue acting sus’

‘If you saw him kill, why didn’t u report?’

Magnus gasped at lime’s accusations, and went to immediately type out a reply, but it was too late. Alec chuckled next to him.

‘It’s blue’ said someone else.

‘I was with lime in medbay’

‘Vote blue’

Magnus let out a squeak when the votes came in, and it was seven against one between him and lime. He watched with despair as his astronaut floated across the starry space, followed by text that read, Magnificent was not the imposter. 1 imposter remains.

“Screw them,” Magnus muttered, and Alec let out a laugh.

“Well, atleast now we can be two ghosts hanging out together,” Alec said. Magnus perked up at that.

“True, that.”

He drifted across the cafeteria to Alec, who was continuing with his tasks. They were both ghosts now, haunting the spaceship and it’s denizens. Well, not really. The others couldn’t see them or the messages that they put in the chat box. It was a little infuriating, really, but also amusing to see them scramble around to find the imposter while the ghosts already knew.

There were plenty of other ghosts, too, but Magnus ignored them and stuck to Alec. They drifted around the spaceship, and after completing all their tasks and watching the astronauts eject another not-impostor, chose to hang out in one of the hallways.

“Well, we don’t have anything else to do now,” Magnus said, drifting this way and that as Alec stood still. “We’ll just have to watch the stupid tiny astonauts make poor decisions now.”

“I feel like that could be our life motto,” Alec said. “Watching people make poor decisions.”

Magnus chuckled and moved towards Alec, until their ghostly forms mostly overlapped.

“Get inside me,” he muttered with a wry smile, and Alec let out a choked laugh, nudging him in the ribs.

The game ended abruptly, with the word DEFEAT on top in large red font, and lime green below, looking absolutely menacing with the red background and a cherry on top of its head.

“Another,” Alec said, and Magnus tapped the play again button. After the game started and the astronauts started to separate to get to their respective tasks, Alec added, “Lets stick together. I don’t want either of us to die in this round.”

Magnus agreed, and they both went from room to room, one of them waiting while the other completed their tasks. When they were in the communications room, Alec commented,

“Looks like we’re all alone.”

“Yeah, I don’t see anyone in the hallways,” Magnus said.

“Perfect.” Alec shot him a sly smile. Magnus stared at him, a little confused. Then Alec tapped something on his phone, and Magnus’s attention was turned to his screen that was now an angry red. He gasped as Black punched Blue to the ground and then shot him with a gun, killing him.

Magnus almost threw his phone across the room.

“You’re the imposter!” he almost yelled, turning on Alec.

Alec’s smile turned sheepish. “Sorry, love.”

“You-“ Magnus spluttered. “I got ejected out of the spaceship for you! And you killed me!”

Alec’s eyes widened a little. “Um-“

Magnus pouted and narrowed his eyes at Alec. “That’s not very fair of you, is it?”

“Wait, no-“

Magnus turned his face away, and heard Alec sigh. A tiny smile made its way onto his face anyway. He watched on his phone as Alec reported the body himself, and sent several messages on the discussion board.

‘It’s me’

‘I’m the imposter’

‘I killed my boyfriend’

‘I’m a terrible boyfriend’

‘Vote me please’

Magnus’s smile widened, and when he turned to Alec, it was to see him staring back with a tight lipped smile and defeated eyes, an expression of annoyance and amusement and plenty of love.

“You’re such a drama queen,” Alec said, his half-smile widening a fraction.

Magnus grinned at him. “You love me for it.”

Alec’s expression softened and he leaned in, pressing his mouth to Magnus’s.

The game was forgotten not long after.

[thebiasrekkers]

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,764

Tag List: @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali​

Chapter 33: Tomorrow

“I hope tomorrow will be different from today...”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Occasionally there were things better left unsaid in life. This applied to every soul that could be counted, especially among people. Never tell the woman you were seeing that her ass looked fat despite how many times she asked. Never mouth off to someone who could kick the shit out of anyone who dared to cross them without batting an eyelash. Never reveal bedroom secrets to someone who had their eye keenly on someone else’s bedroom partner.

Yes, some things were better left unsaid and sometimes there were simply no words for what a person may have wanted to say. Keeping lips sealed was often for the best.

Jungkook kept his lips zip-lock tight the day Eden came home from work. She had “the look” on her face – the one that practically screamed ‘I’m deep in thought so don’t fucking disturb me’. He’d been waiting on her for nearly an hour, wanting to surprise her since he finished work early for the day. 

He wordlessly tried to take the groceries from her, but she refused. Instead, she insisted that he reach into her coat pocket for her keys. When he did, however, he was surprised to see that it wasn’t the set of keys he was used to seeing. The brass key was replaced with a stainless steel one and attached to it was a single keychain with a cartoonish looking puppy on it – its expression reminiscent of one of the faces Jungkook often made when he was pouting.

She waited for him to open the door, but the shock was too much. The meaning behind it was way more for him to process at that moment. When Eden shouted at him to open the door, he nervously slid the key into the lock and almost broke it in the jam. Finally, he opened it and quickly took the groceries from her, shuffling inside and almost tripping out of his shoes. She laughed when he tried to give the key back to her, brushing past him to head into the kitchen. Jungkook smiled, putting the key into his pocket. 

Neither of them said anything as they pushed around in the cramped kitchen, trying to put things up without getting in each other’s way. They were mostly successful and when he tried to grab her hand, Eden ignored him and started stripping out of her street clothes while fumbling for her shower things. Jungkook couldn’t keep the goofy smile off his face when he noticed her rosy cheeks, laughing and grabbing for her. He spun her around until he felt he might be sick. He kissed her hard, refusing to allow her to make it to the shower. Not before he made love to her on the floor.

Twice.

When he’d thoroughly worn her out, he laughed and rubbed at his sore shoulder from the punch he’d received from her. But it was worth it. So fucking worth it.

After they showered, Eden shuffled around in the kitchen and made dinner. Nothing fancy. Just a large pot of ramen with some chicken mandu thrown into it as an afterthought. For a moment, all Jungkook could do was stare at her; considering every movement and drinking in her presence. He loved the way she was in that moment: hair disheveled and loosely wavy, her clothes clean but torn and askew – as if she’d fumbled from the bed and walked into a thrift store to pick out her threads at random.

When they finished, he offered to do the dishes, but she insisted on doing them herself. Eden’s bare feet shuffled around on the polished wooden floor and every so often he could see the tattoo on her left thigh peeking out from under the hem of the extra-large shirt she wore. There was no way to explain why it was sexy, it just was.

Moo Shin, he thought, reading the hangul tattoo, Heaven’s warrior.

“I’m going out to smoke,” she said while drying her hands with a kitchen towel. She grabbed both her pack of cigarettes and lighter off the counter, shoving them into her pocket.

Jungkook stood up, grabbing one of the large fleece throw blankets off the couch and followed her. The nights were still a bit chilly, even heading into Spring, and he didn’t want her getting sick. Her hair was still wet.

She sat down on the perch of the roof, knees curled up to her chest, before lifting the lighter up to her cigarette. Jungkook took a seat behind her, wrapping the blanket around them both, before curling her close against his body. She was struggling with the lighter and he reached out, taking it from her and igniting it smoothly with one flick of his thumb. Waiting for her to inhale her first drag of pleasure, Jungkook moved to rest his chin on her left shoulder. Eden turned her head slightly to keep the smoke from his eyes and he smiled. While he often nagged her to quit smoking, he appreciated the little things she did to keep it from bothering him. Not that it did, but he never actually told her that.

“Jungkook-ah,” came her voice, gruff but the tone was soft, “do you want to keep living in the city?”

Smoke pillowed from her nostrils and he felt his left brow quirk slightly, his thumb pressing into her skin as it rolled under her shirt. He didn’t say anything. It was a question that was slightly jarring, and he took comfort in her warmth and scent in order to get his bearings.

It wasn’t like the thought hadn’t occurred to him before. City life was exciting, sure, and there were merits to living in the city. But there were days when he dreamed about returning to Hwaseong. It was country enough that he could see the stars and enjoy them, but small town enough that he wasn’t struggling or yearning for modern conveniences that made life easier.

Shifting while pulling her closer against him, Jungkook urged her silently to turn her body so that her legs were resting on the safer side of the roof’s perch. Eden looked up at him, cigarette poking out from between her lips while raising her brows curiously at him. His hands moved so he could cup her cheeks inside his palms. 

“If you want to stay, then I want to stay. If you want to go, then I’ll go with you.”

He watched Eden’s eyes widen slightly, clearly surprised by his answer. It was a simple one. Jungkook knew she was successful enough to pick up her business and move it wherever she wanted. If she struggled financially with that kind of move, then Jungkook knew he could pick up the slack. His brothers spent the better part of a decade making sure that he never had to spend his money unnecessarily.

“So honestly, Noona, that’s a question I should be asking you ,” he said softly, smiling down at her.

“Jungkook…”

“I’ve been alone for most of my life. Until I met my brothers, I didn’t have anyone. My parents didn’t want me, and I’ve always had to fend for myself. I moved to Seoul because that’s what the others wanted.” His smile fell a fraction and he felt his brows furrow. “…because I didn’t want to be alone.”

He shifted slightly, meeting her gaze, and Jungkook could feel his heart slamming viciously against his chest. Her eyes reflected the night sky, the amber colors of the streetlights giving them an ethereal umber glow. He reached out to grab her cigarette, disregarding it with a toss. She could yell at him after, but right now, at that moment, Jungkook wanted to kiss her and it was in the way. His kiss was not gentle, but possessive and borderline desperate as he claimed her mouth with lips, teeth, and tongue.

He didn’t want to share with her how much all of this meant to him. Not yet. It was still too new. Too fragile. It could be taken away before it truly began. Jungkook never wanted to be able to love her more than in the moment she’d first opened her heart to him, offering to simply be together in the here and now. To trust one another.

How could he tell her that? How could he tell her that he wanted to love her but also wanted to keep her for himself? Jungkook knew how independent she was and how determined she was to continue walking the path she chose for herself.

Would she allow him to walk beside her beyond the present? Beyond tomorrow?

Jungkook couldn’t help but dread every tomorrow that would pass.

Growling softly, he pulled back – sucking her lower lip in the process and releasing it only after he nipped it red and swollen. She breathed softly over his cheeks, smelling like spearmint and nicotine, and he grinned. Eden drove him to the brink. He’d said it before and felt there wasn’t a need to say it again. Instead, Jungkook drug one heavy palm down her side and pressed it between her thighs, flicking his wrist so that he was firmly holding the area he wanted to violate. She did this to him. Made his brain turn to shit and amped his body up for a lot of "mine" fucking. No one could blame him for it.

“This is your fault,” he muttered while grinning, leaning forward so that his mouth brushed lightly against her own, “you should take responsibility.”

He pressed his palm against her again, waiting for that soft little gasp that he loved to hear. He knew she would tell him no, but getting a rise out of her was almost as sweet as getting the green light. And when she said no and finished smoking her cigarette, they would go back inside to finish Empress Ki while cuddled up together on the bed. She would be revved up and distracted with wanting him, feigning sleepiness just to be mean.

But Jungkook knew she wouldn’t be able to take it anymore. She’d pounce and when she did, he would claim every inch of her until she was well spent. And as Eden slept for real, he would whisper to her how he really felt. About how much he loved her, how much she felt like home, and how he wanted to build something meaningful with her beyond tomorrow.

Nothing would be held back.

Seoul – Myeongdong; Jung District South Korea

The city was so loud.

There wasn’t a single instance of silence that could be had. Especially at night. Jungkook hated the city at night. The stars couldn’t be seen and there was so much white noise from the jumbled conversations that muffled around on the streets in conjunction with the ambient sounds from the city.

The parks in the city, thankfully, were a little bit quieter. Jungkook could tolerate the murmured sounds of metropolitan activity when surrounded by trees and nature trails. He sat down on a bench under one of the cherry trees. In a few months, the petals would be a soft pink. Dozens upon dozens of tourists came to take photographs while the locals simply enjoyed the landscape. A sign that winter was finally ending soon.

The bitter chill of everything dying would have renewed vigor knowing that a warm breath of life would follow suit.

“There’s at least one good thing about all of this,” said a voice nearby.

Jungkook lifted his head, peering into the face of Lee Jooheon. He flashed him his trademark dimpled smirk and Jungkook gave a half-scoff in response. Raising one brow, he watched Jooheon plop down onto the bench beside him.

“Oh yeah,” he asked, both of them leaning back in tandem, “what’s that?”

“I don’t have to fuck you up for wandering into our turf.”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook said dismissively, “you’re the one who told me to meet you here in the first place.”

“I know,” Jooheon replied simply, shrugging one shoulder as he rested one arm along the back of the bench, “but that’s because you aren’t some chicken shit. I knew you’d come.” He turned to peek at Jungkook. “You would have come even if you were still a Golden Jackal.”

Jungkook felt his lips press together in a thin line. “I’m still a Golden Jackal, Joo Hyung,” he said, tone even, “that hasn’t changed.”

Jooheon raised a brow at him. “Oh yeah?” He laughed. “Well, that makes oneof you.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that you’re all a bunch of toothless mutts now.”

Jungkook’s arm shot forward, fist curled and aimed to strike. Knuckles smashed into knuckles as Jooheon’s own fist collided with his. Nerves twitched as the two of them pressed their own weight against the other, bodies shifted toward one another. Jooheon’s smirk still held but Jungkook was far from amused, their arms trembling from the amount of force pressing against each other.

“I guess you’re still the Steel Claw after all,” he said, almost laughing.

Nothing about this amused Jungkook at all. “You’re lucky I don’t rip your spine out for what you did to Eden.”

Jooheon pouted, adding an extra bit of force behind his knuckles to push Jungkook’s arm back a bit. “Hey, I wasn’t the one who did it. That was Minhyuk Hyung.”

“Don’t fucking play word games with me, Yellow Jacket.” The honorific was dropped, replaced with his alias. Jooheon’s expression changed from a playful pout to an actual frown. “As far as I’m concerned, you Jade Fangs are all one and the same.”

Both Jooheon and Jungkook thrust their arms out, breaking the connection and effectively ending the mini strength match they were having. While Jungkook brushed his hair out of his eyes, Jooheon frowned and shook his hand a few times. When he stood, Jungkook followed suit and the two of them remained just a couple of feet away from each other. They continued to stare, not wanting to give off any sign of weakness. They may have dissolved the group, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t still carry himself like a Golden Jackal.

Jooheon could see that now.

Scoffing, Jooheon pivoted on his heels while stuffing his hands into his pockets. Jungkook relaxed a bit, but immediately felt his spine go rigid when his old friend turned around to look back at him.

“Changkyun-ah was serious when he gave that offer to Hoseok Hyung,” he said, craning his neck to face the sky, “and if you guys aren’t going to come back, there’s a chance you’ll try to interfere.”

“Interfere with what, Jooheon?”

“Some advice? You all should leave this city.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes but said nothing. Jooheon lowered his head, his gaze shifting back to look at him.

“Leave, Jungkook-ah, while we still just consider you eyesores.”

“Ha!” Jungkook half laughed, half scoffed – a single brow raising in question. “Yeah, right.”

This time it was Jooheon who narrowed his eyes. “I’m serious.”

“And why should we?” Jungkook slowly folded his arms across his chest. “Why the hell should I even listen to you?”

“Because whether you remember it or not, we were friends once, Jungkook-ah. If you don’t want to be part of this anymore, I’d rather you not get swept up in the shit-storm that is brewing. And trust me when I tell you that it is coming.”

Jungkook watched Jooheon turn and began walking away, holding one hand up in farewell.

“Consider it a parting gift from an old friend, Jeon Jungkook. Whatever happens after this, just know it isn’t personal.”

He waited until he could no longer see Jooheon before finally falling back onto the bench. Even though he hadn’t done it, Jungkook felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He heard from Namjoon Hyung that a deal was placed on the table in front of Hoseok Hyung, but he didn’t take it. He refused to let their goals be obscured or smeared over someone else’s ambitions.

Pulling out his phone, he looked at the lock screen to spy the time. Instead of paying attention to the actual time, he focused on the picture he took with Eden. They were both smiling. She’d been obstinate about not wanting to take the picture until his own stubbornness had her relenting. It was the first time he got her to smile freely.

His brows knit together harshly as his grip on the phone tightened.

…did we make a mistake?

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, KAT! You’ve been accepted for the role of OTHELLO. Admin Rosey: So, one thing that’s really difficult to highlight without overemphasizing is Othello’s dichotomy and his constant conflict. Sometimes you can focus so wholly on one aspect of a character that it’s overwhelming. But Kat, you write Odin so effortlessly, so FREAKING effortlessly that you capture it throughout the application as an integral part of his character -- interweaving it into the plot, the sample, even the “what drew you to this character” section. I am completely blown away and utterly terrified of what havoc you’re going to wreak on the dash. I am screaming over this application and I always will, time and time again. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Kat Age | 25 Preferred Pronouns | She/her Activity Level | OK so my classes went online and my job has cut staff in half so I have so much free time and so much muse. Listen…. LISTEN I know I’m not always reliable but it’s game time lemme say like at least twice a week, I’m here for the haul let’s write baby!!!!!!!!!!! Timezone | EST How did you find the rp? | I originally came across it in the lsrpg tag, also my girl Taryn recommended it and also I miss y’all :( Current/Past RP Accounts | These are links to inactive past accounts:

https://neosy.tumblr.com/ https://grchcmisms.tumblr.com/ https://99gael.tumblr.com/ https://halogenq.tumblr.com/ https://odinbellc.tumblr.com/ ;) https://pavellam.tumblr.com/

IN CHARACTER

Character | Othello, Odin Bello – requesting faceclaim change to Trevante Rhodes :^) What drew you to this character? |

Through my first experience writing Odin I learned a lot about both him and myself as a writer. He was initially a challenge for me because at my roots I was never someone successful in writing characters with good intent, the easier side of him being the one of violence and chaos, something that was difficult considering more often than not… that isn’t who Odin is, or more fittingly, who he wants to be. I struggled with his daily life, the man he tries so hard to be and who he’s used to becoming over the years and I realized that was the key in; the struggle. I’ve teetered around writing for a while recently, the desire and the muse not being there for me when I remembered my dear, dear, Odin and for a split second I wondered about him. Such an interesting thing, to wonder about a character, to dive deep into your mind’s eye and ask, “How is he doing, I wonder? The man of gold and copper, the being of olympus and hades? How is my boy?” And realizing the responsibility of creating and finding that out is all mine. It felt like seeing a past lover in the check out line, wide eyes as you remember the missed calls and blocked number, and realize how fuckin’ good they look today and, damn, were stupid for leaving them.

Dearest Odin, please take me back. I miss you so dearly. I’ll try hard not to leave you so suddenly this time, that was my bad.

Who am I to fool myself? My heart always brings me back to him. Feed me an optimist with nothing but a history of failure, rocks beating down on a pristine marble surface til the cracks spell misery. It’s all his fault, the pain, suffering, and failure… but he tries so hard. It’s as if he’s doomed from the beginning, the first cries from his mouth as a child, a bad omen, the first steps he takes, the small tottering of a baby, were faced in the wrong direction. Some people are born bad, some people are cultivated as such, and Odin, at his root, is a demon in disguise even despite his most valiant efforts; it’s a nature he fights everyday and, oh, the battle grows bloodier and bloodier.

The rest may look familiar to you:

I’ve always been a sucker for a good heart and bruised knuckles.

Such beauty and chaos, such destruction and uncertainty, an aching heart that slips through your fingers as you struggle to grasp it, begging it to hold still. He shakes and struggles with nature and nurture, who he should be and who he wants to be, and more importantly, what he’s become. He feels the remorse and pain of it everyday when he wakes and each night he goes to sleep – for a time he managed to be the person he worked so hard to be. It crumbled under his feet and his developing insanity, the rumble of his father’s ways breaking the ground under his skin and causing something of a snap, a moment of true obscurity. He hates himself for it, but he cannot yet again break his mold, he cannot become someone else. His will is cracking, his heart breaking.

Give me his nuance, give me his pain, give me his turmoil, and oh, please, give me his struggle; the desperate gasp of collapsed lungs and a tattered chest. I cannot stress how beautiful I find him, the feeling in my ribcage so solemn at his childhood and forthcoming, his painful attributes and breaking spirit. A man who shows his kindness through terror and bloodshed, so intent on being a good person that he’d tear the throat of a thief with his teeth.

Yes, I’ve found love.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | Where do you see this character developing, and what kind of actions would you have them take to get there? 3 future plot ideas would be preferable.

(I have new ideas but lord, do I struggle with formulating plot ideas in this format so I’m just gunna keep the same ones because of such and because I DO in fact still want to play them out.)

MEN SHOULD BE WHAT THEY SEEM //

Oh, can the flash of his teeth brighten a room. His smile is bright but, these days, so rarely genuine. He no longer knows who he is truly fighting for, what side of the coin he lays on with his copper spinning on its side in a never ending spiral. He does not know where he belongs, nor, who he truly is and it plagues him in a way that’s all too familiar, a way that feels like his mother’s comfort and his father’s recklessness, the smell of alcohol on someone’s tongue when they speak and the feeling of a caress on skin. He needs to make a choice, a permanent decision for once in his life, pick his path and follow it to the end instead of cutting through the woods once more. Who are you, Odin? His own face in the mirror becoming more unfamiliar in each passing day, a building anxiety and insanity, a hurricane creating a disaster inside him. Who are you?

His reflection tired, tainting his handsome face and false expressions, a hunger growing just under the surface, a desperation so hot; who will you be?

FOR SHE HAD EYES AND CHOSE ME //

Delilah, oh, how she filled something inside of him, and oh, how he tore into the filled space as if rabid, as if being whole was too much to bear, the filled space too heavy, and the paranoia of losing it all creasing his forehead and melting in his palms.

So he did what he does best, and he ripped through the plaster and insulation like a hammer, shattered the glass and caused the empty space to bleed. It hasn’t stopped aching, despite his insistence that it has healed, sometimes he still wakes with his shirt soaked in blood, drenched in suffering. How can he learn to forgive? He learned his lessons but the morals cannot seem to stick, the weakness he caused in his own self and the horror he caused for the woman he loved – loves, still finding its way through his mind and heart. He seeks self forgiveness just as much if not more than he seeks hers. He cannot move on without finding solace or closure but those are two things so hard to capture and accept. Sometimes, he feels so much like his father with his past misgivings it stirs disgust.

It’s time to repent.

THE GREEN EYED MONSTER //

Ivan is a scab, an infection that Odin refuses to treat. He’s become cautious, wearily aware of betrayal in the past and more on the horizon. He has a feeling, a ponderance that keeps him up at night, the sends shocks through his veins. He hates to think of his friend, his family, as a traitor, as a monster in disguise seeking to antagonize the worst parts of Odin himself, but it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore. It scrapes the back of his mind, creates an itch that he cannot scratch no matter how deep he digs, no matter if the skin starts bleeding, it won’t go away. How does he cut out another piece of his life, another piece of himself so vital? It feels like he is losing those most important to him, that they’re all turning on him and it creates nothing but fear, more paranoia and uncertainty.

He wants so desperately to be wrong, but knows what will happen if he is not.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | If anyone deserves to die at some point in this rp I feel like Odin’s a good contender to get fuckin’ GANKED

IN DEPTH

Please choose between the interview or the para sample (or both, if you like!)

In-Character Para Sample:

Act I

The sun beats down on darkened skin, wind blowing through open cruiser windows, sunglasses adorned on his face and a holder keeps track of coffees. In the daylight he glistens – not in a literal sense of glowing skin and eyes, he does not hover over the earth as if ethereal, not a streak against the sky that blinds any human eyes that dare linger, but instead in the sense that no one could ever find the man to be anything but happy. His teeth, those straight, white, teeth that come alive in a smile and clear rooms with a sneer peek from behind pulled lips in a grin. He walks with a swagger, bearing gifts in coffee for other officers and sharp humor and barked laughs for poor moods. He so easily falls into the facade of being created from nothing but light and the body of Christ, a saint in all regards except moral, light jests greeting all who perceive him and all who engage.

Well groomed, upkept and clean, there was no reason to suspect anything was amiss in the crook of his grins, the sharp of his wit, the movements of his muscles under skin. He even makes arrests like a holy man, like someone with something to lose to violence. His hands rest on the steering wheel, music plays from the stereo and he nods his head, every other line finding its way out of his lips even in no one’s presence but his own. He isn’t playing a character in the moment, enjoying the everydayness of the outside world, the warmth of the air touching his limbs and being sucked into his lungs. He feels joy, he embodies it, he hovers with it. His foot eases off the gas at the turn of a light and one hand finds itself resting outside the drivers window, head cocked to the side, heart beating steadily in his chest – firm and ever present in the strength of his pulse.

A human being in all forms; a person, a person, a person, and his phone rings.

Pulling in the parking lot he answers the call, the perspective outside leaves the voice on the other end muffled as it’s pressed to his ear, his face falling ever so slightly, car pushed into park. He nods even though the speaker cannot see him, he makes a sound of understanding as they continue and suddenly something is more solid inside of him. The fluidity, the liquid that flowed between sunlight and good music steels itself against the reality of his life, of who he is and what he is to do, the lake jostled and good-feelings distorted. It’s not for the faint of heart, not created for those with poor constitution, and he is a police officer until ten tonight; that’s what he says to the voice on the other end so they tell him to have it done by eleven. He does not hesitate until he hangs up, a sigh of the last good breath leaving his lungs. A moment of silence for what he lost.

He grabs the coffees and heads inside.

Act II

The headlights send streaks through the night, the yellow color sending shadows running rampant across the near empty field – long and sickly. The air is not still but choked, a vice grip stealing the oxygen away from those who dared attempt breathing. There stood a figure in the darkness, large shoulders over a larger frame, muscles tightened as he digs and digs, the shovel breaking the earth harshly with each bend of his arms. His breathing is rough, like a rubber band pulled to full capacity trying to bend and break to fit the expansion of his lungs. The shovel carries on.

The silence that hung heavy around the lone sound of crumbling dirt could kill in its own regard; ringing in his ears as he ignores the shower curtain wrapped in duct tape buried in the back corners of his trunk. Odin’s mind is empty to everything but the task, split skin and dried blood from his face and knuckles, the bruises adorning his ribcage. Perhaps it was self defense for the sake of defense, he threw the first punch but it was returned just as well and by then, truly, the control was lost. It was what they had wanted to happen, and he was nothing if not complicit. He supposed that was what they liked about him, another body, a bloodhound. Caving for the sake of therapy, sober by daylight and drenched in sweat and blood by nighttime –  if only to keep his sanity. He was nothing if not built of power and control in both physical and mental regards over everyone but himself.

Try to carve a better god out of wood, put him on a pedestal and pray all you’d like, the real sacrifice will come in blood much later – but this flesh and bone, that which has created the man who finds himself up to his chest in dirt standing at over six feet, he is paid now and up front. He is solid, and real.

He straightens up, dirt caked to his jeans and soiled t-shirt, sweat broken across his skin making him shine under the glare of the headlight, the sheen making him appear as if glowing under the half exposed moon. He plants his hands on the outside on the deepened earth and pulls himself out, breathing hard through his nose, a noise like a grunt, face twisted, teeth appearing behind pulled lips. He stares at the dip of the trunk, chest moving, knuckles tightening, shovel thrown to the side. He isn’t even halfway done yet; he gathers himself, and pulls the latch free.

Act III

(TW: self harm kind of)

The neighborhood is still and quiet, blackness behind every window and curtain at such an ungodly hour, the only sounds being the low rumble of the occasional car passing on the main road nearby. In the stillness there begins a movement, the shape of a tall man shaking open the gate leading to the back of a house, his clothes defiled and leaving trails. He strips in the backyard of the home; shoes, socks, shirt, and jeans forming a pile of mud and dirt by the sliding glass doors until he stands in his boxers, fingers unlocking the back door, the cold of the night wetting trails down his back and sides, whispering to his skin. He walks slowly to avoid making any noise, the sound of keys hitting the granite of a kitchen countertop. Even despite how delicately he walks, the mass of his body makes the stairs protest lowly when his feet find them.

The man first goes to the bathroom, the light flicked on as he tries to avoid his face in the mirror. He is not the same creature that caused the blood to pool in his wounds, not the same monster with dirt caked under his nails – not here, he can’t be; not in front of her. He turns on the shower, body directed towards a corner of the bathroom while he waits for the water to heat, staring blankly at the space where the two walls meet, hands twitching, brain fighting not to think, the sound of static until smoke fills the room. The adrenaline still pumps through his veins, the wild-eyed insanity created by anger and a lack of self control, the rush of the final blow still stinging in the shaking of his muscles. The water turns first brown from the dirt adorning his limbs, then becoming a far more sinister red when he submerges his face and hands, he washes himself slowly, rubbing at his back and shoulders, the sweat off of his skin, the searing pain of smoking water near boiling scalding the back of his neck. He doesn’t allow himself to think, not now, not yet. He doesn’t hum or sing, doesn’t talk to himself, but instead thinks only of his actions as they happen or nothing at all.

He doesn’t know how long he stands under the water, so hot it scalds, burns off the sin and the disgust, scrubbing and scrubbing until he could feel himself beginning to cause harm, wounding, convincing himself he’s becoming clean until he forces his hand, stopping the running water. He stands even longer still, his wet skin freezing over in the silence of the steamed room. Finally when he finds himself ready, he dries off until he feels pristine, the wash of the shower head like a baptism into the form of a different man, a new mold built into his model. Only then does he look in the mirror, eyes meeting the reflection of a handsome man, a cursed man, a martyr only in the sense of self respect and fear. His eyes are tired, his face adorning new cuts and scratches, bruises blooming his sides under skin and over muscle. He aches all over. He bares his teeth at the reflection and it does it right back, a snarl of bright white, the bones straight and sharp, and his eyes so quickly become frightening. He turns away.

Odin’s face peers around the door of a new room, hands finding covers and the soft sound of a woman waking. She turns to him, her face telling of sleep and her lips turned slightly down in a frown, her hands finding his chest, wrapping around his torso, her face in his neck, breath fanning over that damn skin of his and she says, “Long night?”

His fingers trail down the back of her shirt, fingertips pressing to the small of her exposed back stretched between her clothes and he hums quietly, face buried in her hair, body melting and moving to fit hers more comfortably, grip tight to squeeze her form, to hold onto something solid, to find his anchor. “Always, baby. Go back to sleep.” He says in a low voice, something comfortable, something familiar there, as if he’s smiling. She makes a noise of acceptance, curling even further towards him, as if a safety, sinking even further as his fingers trail up and down her back, soothing, as to not allow her to be distraught. Delilah was always the one he worried about, not concerning himself with the rotting inside his own chest, the ache of something breaking within him. He fights with the inability to sleep while the rush of the night still feeds inside of him. He does not concern himself with what little is left of him because while he is with her he is safe from the part of himself that only consumes, he is not concerned with the fragility of his own being, not while he breathes in the heat radiating off of l'amore della sua vita.

Meanwhile, miles and miles away, something begins to rot under the cover of freshly turned Earth.

Extras: I made a tag for him a long time ago and haven’t touched it much since tbh but like I'ma probably add stuff the next few days so this 4 u: https://hypnosreigns.tumblr.com/tagged/character:%20odin%20bello

[baekthecorgi]

tell me if you wanna go home (jaemin) genre: high school au, coming of age au, fluff words: 2.9k summary: jaemin finds a home in you.

"a mad axeman murders four high school freshmen," the newspaper headline was written in black bold capital letters

it was definitely a time of crisis for your neighborhood but it was kind of a blessing in disguise to meet na jaemin under such a bone-chilling circumstance. (no, jaemin's not the axeman)

the school admin (your mom's constant nagging actually) required the students to have a walking partner or at least have a group of friends walk home together. preferrably, the students go with others near their vicinity just to be extra safe.

you can count the students taking the same route as yours with your fingers. your house was exactly a 30-minute walk from the school and judging from the distance, it was natural that no one picked you as their walking partner. it put your mood down for the rest of the day. you shrugged it off and accepted your fate of being the fifth victim like the drama queen you were.

"wait up!" jaemin shouts, footsteps trailing behind yours as the chilly air seeps through your blazer. the air was nowhere near chilly anymore when jaemin flashes you a dazzling smile. a smile that could rival the sun.

"jaems? shouldn't you be with jeno?" you question, confused. he wasn't your friend or anything. just an acquaintance, a classmate, the kid sitting at the last row chatting away with his seatmates.

"where's your walking partner?"

"i don't have one." jaemin gives a baffled look.

silence ensues. you were expecting for the boy to fly away as soon as he threw you the questions. instead, jaemin matches his pace with yours. "this isn't your route, jaems," you say. you really didn't want jaemin to be the sixth victim. (once again, stop being a drama queen.)

"it is, actually. i just take the long route to jeno's house and make my mom pick me up there."

"then jeno's the one without a walking partner"

"he's with renjun. it's fine," he waves the thought off as if it wasn't a big deal

"are you sure about this?" you wanted reassurance, not pity, and jaemin was glad enough to give you that.

"i'm still walking with you aren't i?"

and with that starts a beautiful friendship with na jaemin. the first walk-a-thon, as you would call it, was one of the longest thirty minutes of your life. jaemin kept jumping from one topic to another while you reply with dry statements, or worse, a hum and a nod.

jaemin's the human embodiment of bliss while you defined the word: awkward.

but as the walk-a-thons became a daily occurrence, your awkward exterior is stripped down and jaemin glows brighter than ever having found a new friend he could walk home with. besides, he was done taking the long route. jeno can suck it.

as the news died down--the murderer caught--the students disregarded the whole walking partner protocol. you didn't bother waiting for jaemin at the usual spot after class since you knew he'd drop you like the other students did with their partners.

but somehow, jaemin finds his way back to you

"my walking partner's going on another walk-a-thon without me? hmp rude," jaemin crosses his arms cutely, huffing. let's just say he was engulfed in a big bear hug by the happiest girl in the world.

as the years pass by, jaemin becomes the best friend you've always deserved and the nagging big brother you wish you had. countless moments were shared between the two of you. inside jokes which sent you raised brows and confused faces by renjun and jeno. petty fights leading to a tickle war of some sort. huge arguments that renjun had to patch up because your stubborn selves refused to make up.

one finals week, you felt your brain swell from information overload. so jaemin turns up the speakers, blasting "feliz navidad" at two in the fucking morning. it was june and yet you and jaemin were bouncing the hell out of the mattress, singing the christmas carol at the top of your lungs, till the bed springs popped out. the cops turned up in the end (ugh neighbors,, snitches end up in ditches) but needless to say, it's one of the many favorite memories you share with him.

you were also there to witness each other's firsts. jaemin's first injury. your first brow wax. jaemin's first car. your first time watching jaemin's basketball and actually bring home the bacon aka MVP, bitches. jaemin's first time watching you beat the heck out of the opposing school at the district science decathlon.

it's hard to believe four years past right under your nose. you spent too much time enjoying what life could offer with your best friend, you forgot that it ain't always gonna be this way. you dreaded the day you and jaemin would separate ways just like the time the school abolished the walking partner program.

unfortunately, the time has come. with only less than a month left before graduation, you and jaemin finally receive your acceptance letters. he got into his dream university while you got into yours. you were happy and all, but calculating the distance made your heart ache.

"so, have you decided where you're gonna study?" you ask

jaemin pauses as if weighing his choices at the last minute before speaking, "seoul university, most probably." he looks at you and his eyes seem to plead for you to choose a university close to his. "you?"

jaemin was always the smarter one

"KAIST"

"but that's in daejeon!" he exclaims, surprised. "it's two hours, almost three, from seoul. you got accepted in yonsei, right? why don't you just go there? we'll be closer that way."

you were never the type to settle somewhere far from home but you took the opportunity to live independently. besides, you can't have jaemin with you for life. you have to stand on your own feet and this was the perfect chance for that.

"it's my decision, jaems. my call. as much as i would love to stay close--" you were cut off by an angered jaemin stomping away from the scene.

that week, jaemin was missing in action. no texts. no calls. no anything. he treated you like a ghost in the hallways, averting his gaze to either renjun or jeno whenever you meet. you gave jaemin time. maybe your decision still hasn't sunk in his mind.

"dude, why aren't you talking with your best friend?" jeno slaps jaemin's back

"careful," the latter glares making jeno cower in fear, "and it's her fault for choosing KAIST over yonsei"

"jaemin, i can't stand your stupid ass." jaemin flinches at renjun's words. "you're so fucking stupid. you're not in any position to dictate what she should and shouldn't do. and what if she's a hundred miles away from home? she's doing it for her fucking future, not for you! if you don't support her decision then are you really her best friend?"

silence ensues. jaemin never really saw it from renjun's perspective. now he feels like a fucking idiot for putting his wish before yours. the university was no problem, he was super proud of you, in fact. acceptance letters from both KAIST and yonsei university was a rare occurrence and a big deal. jaemin just can't imagine you being so far away from him. he couldn't bear the thought of it and it made him illogically mad that you didn't share the same vision. of never having to be far from each other.

"i'm sorry. you were right it's supposed to be your decision and i shouldn't interfere with it. forgive your best friend?"

"jaemin, do you really have to climb through my window at midnight? the front door's wide open for you"

"so i'm taking that as an apology accepted?"

"ugh, just come get your hug you big baby"

fast forward to prom week

the whole school was buzzing on the upcoming prom. since this was the first and last prom for the seniors, every single detail mattered. everything was a big deal. on top of all that, everyone already chose their partners. some picked their friends, some from other sections, and for the lucky ones, their significant others.

deep inside, you secretly wished jaemin would ask you out. as a friend, nothing more. you wanted to spend the it with him, dancing the worries away just for one night. you didn't want to think about the countless possible futures. you just want to live in the present with jaemin by your side.

"who are you asking out?" you ask jeno, propping your elbows on the lunch table and idly resting your chin above your palms.

"a close friend from 4-B," jeno replies, "renjun?"

"oh, you know," renjun wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. you stand in disbelief, pulling the roots of your hair. "no way!" your eyes widen, exclaiming, "i call bs!"

"watch me slow dance to Can't Help Falling In Love with her on prom night losers," renjun brags, leaning back on his chair. "how bout you sis? found your prince charming yet?"

actually, you were quite glum the entire day. you assumed jaemin has found a partner of his own since he didn't ask you out or anything like that. renjun missed the dejected expression painted on your face. you can feel jaemin's stare on you boring holes from its intensity as if he was expecting something. you answer renjun with a slight shake of the head. you may or may not have heard jaemin sigh in relief.

jeno's forehead scrunches, bemused. "i thought you were going with jaemin?"

"where'd you get that?"

"me," jaemin replies. "i mean, it's a given we're going to prom together." renjun takes a bite of his chicken to hide the growing smile on his face. god, you two were so dense.

"that's now how it works, jaems"

"well, we're best friends. like i said, it's a given." you roll your eyes at your best friend's ego and decide to just give it to him. you chose to ignore the quick skip of a beat your heart made.

"you know, there's this guy from 4-D who was supposed to ask y--ouch! what was that for?!" jeno yelps and reaches below the table. he caresses his knee to which jaemin painfully kicked.

jaemin sips on his water bottle as if there was nothing fishy going on. "tell me the deets of your dress so i can match my suit with yours"

prom was prom. a bunch of teenagers balled up on the dance floor, subtly grinding on each other under the influence of alcohol contained in pocket-sized flasks. hot, rowdy, and simply, a big mess. all of which you weren't. not when you looked like a doll in your jean-clad cocktail dress hugging your figure perfectly and your old, dirty Converse shoes to match it. it was enough to stop jaemin in his tracks. the choice of clothing was bizarre but it made you stand out. you always did stand out from the crowd in his eyes. it was hard not to.

jaemin decides to sneak you out because you weren't fit for the disaster of an event that was waiting to happen.

he drives in his (brother's stolen) car and takes you away from all the ruckus. you didn't know where he was taking you but anywhere with jaemin was fine.

the trip was a rendezvous. much like the time when you would sneak out of the house and head over to jaemin's because 24 hours wasn't enough time to play Animal Crossing with your best friend and giggle under the covers throughout the night. it was like that, except this time, you were two best friends driving to god knows where in search of more time. time to spend with each other before reaching the brink of adulthood.

the car screeches to a stop. you peek out of the window to see the wide expanse of the open campus.

"you're brother's gonna kill you when he finds out about this"

"what he doesn't know won't hurt him," jaemin breaks into a laugh. it was the only sound that could be heard within a mile amidst the crickets chirp.

"you've already got a campus tour right? last week?" you nod hesitantly. jaemin wants to memorize your home for the next four years by heart. "lead the way then"

you stroll around the campus, pointing at different buildings and describing the various departments of the university. you tell him which department your course was in, the building where most of your classes are at. basically, anything your brain can muster up at the moment.

weird glances were thrown at the both of you from the students coming in and out of the dorm. you sat on the steps in front of your soon-to-be dorm, chattering away as if it was normal for two high school students to hang out in an open campus in their prom attire.

later, you lead jaemin to the empty quad. you follow jaemin's actions when he lies on his back. he notices the red blotches starting to form on your exposed skin caused by the grass prickling it. jaemin takes off his coat and drapes it across your shoulders.

you whine, complaining how the night sky was as empty as the quad and how the stars were being unfair for refusing to shine. jaemin reasons that the stars were too afraid to rival the brightest one of all--you. but of course, he says all of that in his head.

"aren't you worried?" you break the silence. "what if one day we find someone new and we replace each other with that someone? what if we meet again in seoul during break and all we see is a stranger in front of us?"

"what if home doesn't feel like home anymore? what then?" jaemin hears the anxiety in your tone of voice. it felt good to voice out the worries inside your head but you didn't want to burden jaemin with it. you didn't want to seem clingy.

"i'm proud of you for taking such a big step. choosing a good university far away from home and in the course you've always wanted." jaemin reassures, "i get where all your worries are coming from but no one could ever replace you. i'll text you or call you when i'm free. we could even video call if we're not busy. we'll always stay close, you mean too much to me to just let this end."

"jaemin," you softly call his name. he shifts his position to face you. your breath hitches at the boy centimeters away from you. you've never seen jaemin this close and personal. you've never seen jaemin as someone more than a friend.

your voice was feeble and small. "are you scared?"

"so scared," jaemin says almost in an inaudible whisper. "you have no idea"

"what are you scared of?"

"the future, being so far away from you," he holds his gaze on you but this time his eyes were insinuating something different you couldn't read. jaemin takes a sharp breath as if inhaling an ounce of courage before continuing, "i might be in love with my best friend and that scares the crap out of me."

"jaems, we can't. if we go through this now, the distance will kill us."

jaemin locks his eyes with yours, full of love and reassurance. "we've been through everything else together. this is no different." he swipes the stray hairs falling only to tuck it securely behind your ear. "i don't care if you're miles away, you can call me any time and i'd drop anything if you needed me. you know that."

"the distance will tear us apart. jaemin, we really can't," you choke back a sob threatening to escape your lips but jaemin shushes you as if saying everything will be alright.

"you're worth any fight"

the first few weeks in college was rough. the hectic schedule, the long lecture hours, the difficult lessons and the terror professors. they were all new to you, jaemin as well.

it was hard keeping in touch at the same damn time. if you were busy, jaemin wasn't and vice versa but somehow, the two of you compromised and made it work.

jaemin was a man of his word--never failing to send you a text or call before the day ends. even one “good morning, sunshine” text was enough for you to get going and receiving a “good night, i love you :)” text from you was enough for jaemin to get a good night sleep.

sometimes, jaemin would get the craziest ideas at ungodly hours of the night

"oh my god, jaems, are you out of your mind?!" you massage your forehead at the sight of your boyfriend, hugging his plushie cutely, in front of your doorstep in the middle of the night.

"i couldn't fall asleep. i need cuddles," jaemin welcomes himself in your apartment. if you didn't love the guy so much and if he didn't look too cute in his pink pajamas, you would have kicked him out.

"let me get this straight. you drove four hundred miles on a school night for cuddles?"

"and kisses. now enough chitchat, more smoochies," jaemin puckers his lips and jumps on your bed, arms wide open to snuggle yourself in. you smile and accept his warm invitation.

anywhere with jaemin feels like home because he is your home 💝

--

note: i rewrote this because tumblr deleted my fucking draft which was almost done. i hope this one’s better than the draft i made ugh i had to restart so it took a while sorry. jaemin’s a bit of a prick here but he’s an adorable prick who needs a hit on the head to make him realize things sometimes. im just glad im done with this. i can finally tick one off my to-do list omg!! drop some feedback, guys :D

masterlist

[scripturehomosexuality]

Update: Why This Blog Has Been Silent, And This Blog is Moving

If you’ve been a regular reader here, I’m sure you noticed that this blog has been silent for the past few months. The silence has been so extreme, I missed posting on its third anniversary. Believe me, this silence was not intended. Certain circumstances forced it to happen, though given current events, it might have been a blessing in disguise. I’ll go more into that later.

Though I write this blog, I’m still a regular person who must face the same troubles as everyone else. As such, around the time that I made the last post, my life became quite unstable through no fault of my own. After a certain point, that instability put my living situation into serious doubt. Thus, I was faced with a choice - deal with the situation and neglect the blog, or keep up the blog while the rest of my life fell apart. I chose the former. I wouldn’t be able to give any help if, among other things, didn’t have a place to live.

Plus, believe it or not, the loss of my smartphone had an effect. Through that phone, I was able to maintain constant supervision of the blog and the g0ys subreddit. It inexplicably broke down in June, and I’m currently stuck with a substandard model. Thus, maintaining control over both became much harder.

At this point, though it’s not in an ideal place, things are much more stable now. That instability has reduced, and I’m working to get a better phone during this month. Plus, I was still writing in fits and spurts. I currently have three finished articles waiting to be published. One of them is the post intended for the blog’s third anniversary. I have many more drafts meant for publication this year at various stages of progress. I logged in periodically to keep the blog active, and did so again on December 26th to start resuming normal activity.

That was the first time I logged in for all of December, and as I know now, I was in for a surprise.

Earlier in the month, and after a revision in September 2018, Tumblr changed their Community Guidelines again. Under the subtitle “Adult Content”, they read as follows:

“Don't upload images, videos, or GIFs that show real-life human genitals or female-presenting nipples — this includes content that is so photorealistic that it could be mistaken for featuring real-life humans (nice try, though). Certain types of artistic, educational, newsworthy, or political content featuring nudity are fine. Don’t upload any content, including images, videos, GIFs, or illustrations, that depicts sex acts. For more information about what this guideline prohibits and how to appeal decisions about adult content, check out our help desk.”

Like the September update, this change is very problematic. In short, anything showing sexuality or nudity (even toplessness) is now banned from Tumblr. At least, they say as much. They also say that they will make exceptions for “certain types of artistic, educational, newsworthy, or political content featuring nudity”.

You might not realize it, but a huge problem lies within that phrasing. The policy doesn’t say that they will allow ANY nudity that is of artistic, educational or political value. They say that they will only allow “certain” types. Whatever counts as those approved “certain” types is totally up to Tumblr’s discretion, and is subject to their fleeting whims.

Nevertheless, you might think that such a policy would exempt this blog. After all, as you’ve seen, all nude photos featured here are shown mainly for their historical value. All of them were captured with the consent of those photographed. All of them are in black and white, which immediately shows that they have some age. While this blog has never felt squeamish about showing nudity, it has done so to teach history in the best way possible.

Well, you’re wrong. Within the past few days, four articles were flagged as being too adult for Tumblr, and were hidden from public view. They are

Capitalism’s Role in the Taboo Against Nude Swimming

The Innate Male Need For Communal Nudity (Under Appeal but Not Visible)

Happy Two Year Anniversary

What The Olympics Teach Us About Same-Sex Bonding (Since Restored)

So if you’re looking for them, please know that they still exist. I didn’t delete them, and I never would intentionally delete them. You just can’t see them. Furthermore, as you probably noticed, the first three are key posts of the “Everyday Nudity” series.

Personally, I’m not surprised that the series was among the first output affected. The “Innate Male Need” article was what nearly brought down the blog in March 2018. Some staff within Tumblr clearly opposed its publication, even though it violated none of their guidelines at the time. They were so opposed to it, they tried to hold the site hostage by shutting it down whenever I tried publishing it. Though I ultimately succeeded, it seems certain Tumblr staffers were looking for another opportunity to take it down again. They did, and this time, the guidelines are on their side.

Plus, I think I need to note the following: through their myriads of photographs, all three posts were a terrible indictment on U.S. society. They amply demonstrated

the failure of the U.S. education system to teach something that was ubiquitous just a generation ago

the utter and unprecedented prudishness of modern U.S. society

the cooperation of the U.S. capitalist system in sustaining this taboo on everyday nudity

the inconsistency of this reality in a nominally Christian country with supposedly “traditional” Christian teachings on homoeroticism

the role of “gay” and “straight” media in obscuring this story

These articles were some of the most read posts on the blog. And they had an effect. Information about the topics covered therein are becoming common knowledge, and I believe that’s due to articles like these.

Thus, I’m willing to make the following call on the Guidelines changes - they weren’t done just to purge itself of pornography. Furthermore, these changes have affected many Tumblr blogs, including some who didn’t publish NSFW content at all. To me, this was ultimately a political move. This was done to purge Tumblr of politically “inconvenient” content, and make it more palatable to corporations.

To prove my point, I will go back to my own content. All nude photos here were clearly attached for historical value. The posts that contained them were meant to educate and inform. To any reasonable mind, I’m sure that would count as “artistic, educational, newsworthy, or political content featuring nudity”. Even after being appealed - which would require human intervention - the ban was removed only for the “Olympics” article. So to me, the only other reason why they would be flagged was because the message they were sending was objectionable. In other words, from what I can see, the suppression of these posts is plainly political censorship.

Furthermore, Safe Mode already hid “adult” posts from people who didn’t want to see it. For their part, all three posts contained warnings that nude photos were inside the posts. None of those photos were visible in the post previews. If Tumblr admins were solely concerned with creating “a place where more people feel comfortable expressing themselves”, that was a somewhat fair (if deeply flawed) solution. It left more sexual blogs to operate in relative peace, and allowed more prudish viewers to mostly avoid them.

Plus, if the Guideline revisions were just concerned with adult content, why flag the “Olympics” post? That post contained no nude photos at all. The only thing that would cause offense was that, through its frank commentary, it tore apart establishment sexual concepts that are corporate in origin.

Along with that, from what can be seen, the porn bots on Tumblr (which are usually corporate in origin) are working just fine. The ban seems to affect only output from individual blogs. Thus, I don’t think that NSFW content was offensive because of its content. Instead, that content was offensive because it didn’t come from corporate producers. It came from the people themselves, as authentic expressions of sexuality often unseen in more mainstream output. It is this which is being hurt by this ban, and I don’t think that’s an accident.

The fact that Tumblr is now hiding them means that Tumblr hasn’t been comfortable with them for some time. The mere presence of community-driven sexual content evidently gnawed at them. They wanted them gone, but it didn’t want to do it too fast, lest it alienate their core audience.

Tumblr CEO Jeff D'Onofrio says that they will only hide posts that violate policy, and will not delete them. Frankly, I don’t believe him. Hiding them is a subtle way of abolishing them from public memory. Deleting them completely just finishes the job. Plus, this new change clearly signals that they are uncomfortable with having certain blogs on their platform. I can’t see why they wouldn’t take the next step and eradicate those posts, or completely delete the blogs that post them. Furthermore, as said before, abolition of sexual content is merely the pretext of the moment. Others will likely emerge to further apparent goals of purging Tumblr of its most unconventional users.

On top of that, I’m not the only one who thinks it’s political. In a recent commentary on the changes, Vox remarked that the change (and reaction to it) is reflective of larger trends. They explained that “on a deeper level, the giant outcry over this [policy change] reflects a larger anxiety from users — a fear that Tumblr is cracking down not just on porn but on the very essence of Tumblr culture: unruly, unsanctioned, and in many ways, united by the very spirit of deviance that Tumblr is trying to kill.” I truly believe that this is the case. Sex is just a pretext to remove the culture of free speech that has always characterized Tumblr.

Make no mistake - this move is totally in service to a growing American corporate state. It is a corporate state that is of the corporations, by the corporations, and for the corporations. Its sole motivation is creating a culture of sheer conformity and neat division, because that ensures capitalism’s everlasting growth. It dislikes anything that rocks the boat, except if that rocking will make more money.

After all, keep the following in mind. This ban was apparently spurred by the recent actions of Apple, who removed Tumblr from its online store. On the eve of the ban’s enforcement, it was promptly restored. This is despite the fact that NSFW content still exists on Tumblr. The difference is that such content is now mainly corporate in origin, instead of the more community-driven content. So what was the issue here? Was the content the problem? Or that it came from the wrong source, and as such, had an authenticity that corporate content couldn’t compete with?

All signs indicate that the censorship drive won’t stop here. Tumblr has already gone to excessive lengths to crack down on content that most users didn’t object to. Meanwhile, the porn bots and others who supposedly caused the censorship haven’t gone anywhere. Adult content isn’t the problem. Instead, it is that Tumblr contains a potent people power that corporate America simply can’t tolerate.

As a result, I must read the writing on the wall that becomes clearer every day. I predict that this blog will be deleted along with many others. I believe that by the end of 2019, “The Scriptures Don’t Condemn Homosexuality” will cease to exist on Tumblr. I personally think the end will come by June. But even if that doesn’t happen, I can’t see how it will survive past December 2019.

This blog has consistently railed against modern sexual philosophy, which preaches that same-sex desire and behavior is inherently abnormal. As this blog has shown, that philosophy owes its growth to runaway capitalism (aka neoliberalism). Neoliberalism sustains and protects that philosophy, and vice versa. That system of thinking simply cannot tolerate challenges to its logic. And while the blog is mostly intact, I’m sure more changes will be made to make blogs like this less likely to exist on Tumblr. 

As such, barring any repeal of censorship, this will be the last new post on this Tumblr blog. No more content will be posted here. I don’t know if new posts will be used as pretext to shut the blog down. No messages sent to the inbox will receive a response here. However, I will not delete the Tumblr site, since this is the one that users know the most. This blog will remain in suspended animation until Tumblr inevitably shuts it down.

At this point, the Wordpress site will become the main site. The next few weeks and months will be spent transferring all articles to that website. I will try to recreate the Tumblr blog on Wordpress as faithfully as possible, including the extra links at the top of the page. I will also utilize Wordpress’ tools to make it even better. The Tumblr site will become an auxiliary site to direct traffic to Wordpress.

To be clear, I don’t see this as a final solution. This will be a real test of Wordpress’ tolerance of free speech. I have no idea how Wordpress will respond to what I will publish, but I hope for the best. Even as I’m heading to Wordpress, I’m also researching other platforms in case Wordpress doesn’t work out.

For the time being, my first priority will be helping reanimate the g0ys reddit chat. More than anything else, this blog aimed to make like-minded people connect with each other for personal fulfillment and social change. The Reddit chat seems best equipped to do that, and as such, I view it as the blog’s greatest legacy. Thus, I will be posting there more regularly in the days and weeks ahead. Furthermore, I also help see how to keep the chat active even when the moderators aren’t there.

I’m not going sugarcoat anything. This is a big step backward. Right now, I should just be concerned with getting new content out. I never thought that when the blog is so established, I’d have to move its content between platforms. This will be a time consuming process, because there’s over 100 posts to transfer. My finished manuscripts for this publishing year won’t be seen for months.

As such, the inactivity of this blog might have been a hidden blessing. If I continued publishing, it would have counted as more posts to move. Since output stopped in September 2018, it makes my job easier.

Furthermore, its readership has never been higher: for the first time, there were over 1000 trackable visitors in a single month, during November 2018. Its actual count was probably higher, so doing this move will be incredibly disruptive. During this transfer, I don’t know if all readers here will be able to make the switch.

However, in the end, this is what is needed. It helps accomplish goals that are bigger than Tumblr, this blog or myself. This Tumblr site merely wishes to further the work of the g0ys, the Man2Man Alliance, and other associated movements - to free humanity of sexual concepts meant to control, punish and enslave. Tumblr is just a means to an end. This work will go on with Tumblr or without them, because the stakes are too high to do otherwise.

Finally however, I want to thank David Karp and the version of Tumblr he oversaw. They created what is becoming an rarity - an internet platform where freedom of speech and thought truly ruled the day. This blog’s work simply would not have been possible without Tumblr, and was far better because of it. I’ve met and heard from many readers of like mind whose feedback aided me further. The photo content in the “Everyday Nudity” series came from other Tumblr blogs. I will always be grateful to them for allowing this blog to speak freely, and am sorry to have to leave.

However, times have changed and this blog must change with it. This work will go on. Concepts of sex have a tremendous effect on other parts of life. I will working to help make those concepts fit reality, so that all can be truly free.

- Herold Jennison

[noona-clock]

Happier - Part 2, Final Chapter

Thank you to @chenline for helping me with the plot AND for being so patient! I’m sorry it took me a while!!

Genre: AU/Kind of angsty

Pairing: Jaebum x You

By Admin B

Part 1, 2

You and Jaebum had been dating secretly for three months now.

The night you had “gone out for ice cream with Jackson,” you both had decided your feelings for each other were too strong. But you knew your mom could never find out, so really the only option was to lie. Except you hated lying. But you loved Jaebum more. So you came to the conclusion you were simply ‘not talking about it’ rather than ‘lying.’

You enlisted the help of your newest friend, Jackson, although you did feel kind of guilty for making him your cover-up.

“Of course I’ll do it!” Jackson had exclaimed. “I’m very good at making up elaborate stories.”

You had thanked him profusely, and you’d promised him you would go on friend dates with him to repay your debt.

Now, three months later, you thought things were going pretty smoothly.

Whenever you went to meet with Jaebum, you told your mom you would be with Jackson. On your way out of the house, you would text Jackson with your secret code: “I’m on my way, handsome!” This way, if your mom ever snuck a peek at your phone, she wouldn’t get suspicious.

You also invited Jackson over to your house sometimes because you knew your mom would bug you about it if you didn’t. Jackson did a wonderful of job of acting like your boyfriend whenever he came for dinner, and he really was a big reason why your mom never found out you were actually seeing Jaebum.

You were currently at Jaebum’s apartment, snuggled on the couch listening to DefSoul’s latest recording. He had written a song about you named “Don’t Worry,” and he wanted you to be the first (besides his bandmates) to hear it.

“Have I ever told you that you have the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard?” you asked, tilting your head to look up at him.

You saw his cheeks flush and a shy smile pull at his lips. “Yes, you have.”

“Well, it’s true,” you grinned, placing a soft kiss on his jaw.

Jaebum pulled you closer to his chest, lazily running his fingers up and down your arm.

The song played about five times before you let out a sigh.

Jaebum knew this was your way of letting him know you were about to leave. Whether or not you did it on purpose, he had figured out quickly you always let out a sigh before you told him you had to go.

“I need to go study,” you said as you reluctantly sat up. “Finals start next week.”

“But then you only have two semesters left,” Jaebum pointed out.

“Thank god.” You weren’t sure how much longer you could last.

“We’ll celebrate when you’re done with all of our exams.” Jaebum followed you as you stood from your spot on the couch, shuffling over to grab your purse on his kitchen counter.

“Any ideas?” you asked, a smirk pulling at your lips as you felt his arms snake around your waist from behind.

“Yeah, I’ve got some,” he murmured, attaching his lips to your neck.

“If you keep doing that, I’ll never leave,” you giggled.

“And that’s supposed to make me stop?”

“Jaebum,” you whined, turning around in his hold and looping your arms around his neck. “I really need to study. If I don’t get good grades, I’ll have to take the classes over again, and that’ll delay graduation.”

Jaebum opened his mouth to rebut, but he stopped himself. You were right. And you finishing school was what both of you were waiting for.

“I know, I’m right,” you smirked. “As always. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“All right,” he sighed, leaning in for one more kiss before finally letting you go.

You thought of Jaebum your whole drive home, as you always did, so you were in a particularly good mood when you arrived at your house. You could still feel his lips on your neck, his arms around your waist... If you didn’t have to study, you would turn around, get back in your car, and drive right back over to his place.

You smiled all the way up your walkway, humming softly to yourself as you unlocked the front door and stepped inside.

“Mom, I’m --” 

You usually called out to let your mom know you were home, but tonight, she was already waiting for you. And your smile fell. Because she looked angry.

“Where have you been?” she asked, her voice low and even. Which was a very bad sign.

“...With Jackson, like I told you,” you answered immediately.

“Oh? Then why did I just speak with his father who was at dinner with him?”

“...Because they went out to dinner after I left.”

“I asked about you,” she told you. “His father seemed to have no idea what I was talking about. He told me Jackson wasn’t dating anyone.”

“Well...” you gulped. “He should probably be more involved in his son’s life, then.”

“Why have you been lying to me?”

Oh, great. Once your mom accused you of lying, there was no turning back. She knew. So you simply stayed silent.

“Who are you really seeing, Y/N?”

“Mom, please just --”

“Who? That musician, isn’t it?”

“His name is Jaebum,” you retorted sternly.

“I knew it. Honey, I have told you before, you have no future with a musician.”

“But he’s not just a musician, mom! He’s Jaebum! His career doesn’t define him!” you cried.

“But it defines his bank account! And you can’t be truly happy if you’re struggling to put food on the table!”

“It’s not like I’ll never have my own job! Once I graduate, I’ll --”

“But that’s just it! You’re still in school! And you’re living under my roof, so you follow my rules. You’re breaking up with him.” Her eyes were ice as she crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrows raised as she dared you to challenge her.

You stared right back, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

“I can’t!” you blurted out. “I love him!”

“Then you have no place here.”

“Wh--”

“If you choose him, you’re no longer welcome in this house.”

“Mom, that’s not fair!” you yelled, tears pooling in your eyes.

“Life isn’t fair, honey! You don’t always get what you want, and that’s just how it is! You either complain about it or you get used to it!”

“But Jaebum is not just something I want!” you exclaimed. “I love him! You remember what it’s like to love someone, right?”

“Don’t get sassy with me,” your mom snapped. “I already told you the deal. You either break up with him or you find another place to live.”

“Well, I’m not breaking up with him,” you sniffed.

“Get out then!”

“FINE!” You turned on your heel, nearly ripping the front door off its hinges as you swung it open and marched back to your car.

You somehow managed to make it back to Jaebum’s house, your tears and anger clouding your vision as you drove. You barely remembered pulling into his apartment complex, walking up the stairs, knocking on his door. 

“Hey, what happened?” Jaebum asked gently the second he saw you, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly.

“My mom found out,” you sobbed, burying your face in his neck. “She said I either had to break up with you or find another place to live.”

“Ah, fuck,” Jaebum murmured.

“What am I supposed to do? I still have two semesters left. Where am I going to live, how am I going to pay my tuition? That’s, like, 20 thousand dollars!”

You felt Jaebum freeze momentarily before putting his hands on your shoulders and pushing you away so he could see your face.

“Wait, you -- what do you mean? What are you talking about?”

Your brow furrowed deeply as you gazed up at him with bleary eyes. “Jaebum, of course, I chose you. I made that mistake once, I’m not making it again!”

You were almost offended he thought you wouldn’t pick him.

He pulled you back to his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly and rubbing your back. “It’ll be okay,” he assured you. “We’ll... we’ll figure this out.”

Just as you were about to respond, your phone began to ring. You slid it out of your pocket, a wave of relief washing over you when you saw Jackson’s name.

“Y/N, I am so, so, so sorry,” he pleaded before you could even say ‘Hello.’ “Your mom found out, didn’t she? And it’s all my fault. Oh, god, she probably kicked you out of the house. Right?”

You let out a breath, still holding onto Jaebum with your free arm. “Yeah.”

“Listen, come live with me. My dad just signed the lease on a brand new apartment, it’s got three bedrooms, you won’t have to pay for anything.”

“Jackson, what?” you laughed. “Come on, don’t be absurd.”

“I’m not! I’m totally serious! It’s mostly my fault your mom kicked you out, I feel responsible! Let me make it up to you. I’m not going to stop bothering you until you say ‘yes,’ please, Y/N, I’m your friend just let me do this I promise I’ll be the best roommate I won’t bother you unless you want me to and you’ll have your own space and it’s close to your school and we’ll --”

“Okay!” you cried, only to make him stop. “Fine, fine, fine.”

“...Really?”

“We’ll talk more later, okay? I’ll call you.”

“Okay, and listen you won’t regret --”

You shook your head as you hung up, chuckling softly at Jackson’s antics.

“...What was that all about?” Jaebum asked, his voice low.

“It was just Jackson offering me a place to live. He just got a new apartment, and he’s trying to take responsibility for my mom finding out.”

“...Well, you told him ‘no’ right?”

You quirked a brow up at your boyfriend. “Well, not exactly.”

“Why not? You’re not going to say ‘yes’ are you?”

“Well... I mean, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because you’re moving in here with me!”

“What?! Jaebum, since when?!”

“Since... now.”

“So, you just decided without asking me?” you scoffed.

“Well, no, but -- I mean, you’d rather live with Jackson than with me?!”

“It’s not that,” you sighed. “Can you just give me some time to think, at least?”

Jaebum let out a humorless chuckle, and you felt your anger rising again. “What is there to think about? I’m your boyfriend, you should move in with me.”

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD DO,” you yelled, letting your emotions take over. “You’re no better than my mom!”

And before he could say anything else, you stormed out yet another door.

Not even an hour later, you found yourself at Jackson’s place, and you resolved to stay there - at least for the night. You didn’t want to leave anywhere else again for the time being.

Jackson, bless his soul, sat there and listened as you poured your heart out. Honestly, you never really thought him capable of listening since he talked so much, but he was surprisingly attentive. And once you’d finished your emotional rant, he said the one thing you’d been wanting to hear: “Well, what do you want?”

“I want to be with Jaebum, I want to finish school, and I... I don’t know. I don’t know how I’m going to afford everything. I need to find a job, I guess.”

“Hey, what about the scholarship?” Jackson queried, eyebrows raised.

“What scholarship?”

“You know, the one my dad’s company offer - your mom’s company.”

“Oh, right...” You’d completely forgotten. “Well, my mom said I didn’t need to sign up for it because she paid for everything.”

“So, sign up for it now. I’ll talk to my dad, he’ll understand. And, seriously, you can live with me. free of charge. I’m living there free of charge, so it’s not a big deal at all.”

“You... you would really do that for me?”

“Of course,” Jackson assured you, reaching out to take your hand. “You’re my friend.”

“And... you wouldn’t mind if Jaebum comes over?”

“Of course, not. As long as... you don’t mind if Rose comes over.” He was having a very difficult time keeping a smirk from his lips as you let out a gasp.

“What?! Who’s Rose?!”

“This girl I’ve been seeing... It’s nothing serious, just...” He shrugged, and you squealed when you saw his cheeks flushing.

After you’d calmed down enough to speak rationally, you called Jaebum to apologize. He did first, though, and you could tell he was pretty upset at how things had gone at his place.

You explained you truly appreciated his offer to let you move in with him, but you were going to decide for yourself. And the best decision right now was to get the scholarship from your mom’s work and live with Jackson. It was closer to your school than Jaebum’s place, and it was rent-free (as much as you would feel like a squatter mooching off your best friend, it was too tempting to pass up).

Jaebum relented, but you knew it was only because he felt guilty for upsetting you. You didn’t care, though. You were tired of people trying to make decisions for you, so you were making this one on your own, no matter what.

It didn’t take you long to get settled into Jackson’s brand new, very nice apartment, though it took a bit longer for Jaebum to get used to the idea of you living with another guy. Once he actually spent time with Jackson, though, his worries diminished. He knew you well enough to know Jackson, while an amazing guy, was not your type. You preferred the strong, silent kind of guy - which was why you were currently with Jaebum.

Plus, the fact Jackson now had a girlfriend made it easier for Jaebum to accept your choice. The four of you went on multiple double dates, and Jaebum eventually even came to like Jackson.

To be honest, you spent your last two semesters of school happier than you’d ever been. You were openly dating the man you loved, you were living with your best friend, and you were acing your classes since you had enough time to study. Sure, you weren’t talking to your mom at all, but... honestly, who needed a dictator for a parent?

You certainly didn’t.

Three years later

“Babe, I’m not coming with you,” Jaebum chuckled, shaking his head as you set your chin on his shoulder.

“Why not?! Only Jackson and Rose are coming, I feel lame just bringing two people!” you pouted.

“Why not? Because I don’t want to see you in your wedding dress until you’re walking down the aisle,” he explained. “Call me old-fashioned, but I want to be surprised.”

You sighed deeply, pressing your lips briefly against the back of his neck. “Okay, fine.”

“...Why don’t you call your mom?”

“You know why. She wouldn’t come. We haven’t spoken for three years.”

“Maybe... you should at least try.”

“I’ll see you later, okay?” You grabbed your purse from the kitchen counter, successfully avoiding the subject. You didn’t need your mom to come with you to pick out your wedding dress. You’d planned the rest of the wedding yourself (with some input from the groom, of course), so you certainly didn’t need her help now.

You met Jackson and Rose outside of the bridal shop, your heart racing as you stepped inside.

But then it dropped into your stomach when you saw her.

“...What are you doing here?” you asked, breathless.

“Jaebum called me a while ago,” your mom explained, stepping forward. “He... thought I wouldn’t want to miss this.”

You gulped down the lump in your throat, trying not to break down. “Well, you’ve missed everything else,” you replied bitterly.

“I know, and... I regret it. I’m not proud of anything, Y/N,” she admitted, her eyes filling with tears as she reluctantly reached for you. “I’m sorry. I know you have no reason to forgive me, but... Even though I’m your mom, I’m still human. I make mistakes.”

You stared at her, your forehead wrinkled as you tried to think of what to say. But you honestly couldn’t form words at the moment.

“Please,” she pleaded. “I don’t want to miss out on anything else. I know how much I hurt you, and I plan to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Because you’re still my baby. You always will be.”

Apparently, those were the words you’d been waiting to hear for three years now because you almost immediately broke down. Tears streamed down your face as your mom took you into her arms, stroking your hair and crying right along with you.

You had no idea how you would repay Jaebum for what he’d done. He had known you needed your mom back, even though you hadn’t.

And that was exactly why you were marrying him.

Master list //  RULES // Submit a Request! // Read About the Admins

[ultratesterthings]

Doctors found unsafe to drive home after work

Doctors found unsafe to drive home after work

Posted on April 10, 2016 by Pamela Wible MD

Some employers are now providing cab rides for physicians because they’re too fatigued to drive safely after their hospital shifts.

Just got this email from a resident [physician-in-training]: “OMG. See below. The violations and consequences pretty much deter you from ever bothering to want to use this service.”

My response: “If doctors are so tired they can’t drive, why are they being allowed to care for hospitalized patients? If they can’t safely drive a car, why are they being allowed to run ventilators in the ICU?”

His response: “Exactly. And then let’s offer residents a ride in the most threatening way possible so that there is no chance they will take it. It’s all so stupid that it’s painful. I think you need to publish volume two of Physician Suicide Letters—Answered and just publish documents like this. They speak for themselves just like the letters.”

I reply: “Sleep deprivation is a torture technique and a form of hazing common in medical training. Did you see my TEDMED talk where I discussed this?”

He responds: “The funny part is, how often does a doctor ever not work 12 hours and not feel exhausted. I think any physician would have difficulty abusing this. However my bet is, if you were to use this too often—whatever that is—(even within their stated criteria of 12 hours and exhaustion) you would be called in for a chat to ask why it is that you are so tired so often, and more absurd, humiliating questions. Kind of like our work hours reporting now. [Residents are limited to an 80-hour work week]. We have learned not to report working beyond 80 hours/week. If you do you are called in to discuss the “hour violations” and a chat about how inefficient you are. So everyone lies, everyone works way over what they report, and yes everyone is still exhausted. Round and round we go . . .”

Pamela Wible, M.D., is a physician who is outraged by the health care cycle of abuse that wounds physicians and patients alike. She helps physicians break free of the cycle of abuse at biannual retreats. Need help? Contact Dr. Wible.

36 comments on “Doctors found unsafe to drive home after work”

Thomas Lucksays:

Too fatigued to be driving but not too fatigued to be working!!!!

Tad Lucksays:

Too fatigued to drive but not too fatigued to have been working!

Robert Hailesays:

During my training in Boston 80 hours would have been a relief. In the 70’s and 80’s 120 hours was common. Where one wished the ER admission did not survive to add more work during a 36 straight hour stint. Where the opportunity to sleep 1-2 hours was not taken as it made you feel even worse. They said I’d get faster, but I did not as I realized the speed came from dangerous shortcuts. Through my career, I chose to spend my time with patients, making less money. But the stress accumulated: two cancers, one pre-cancer, 4 brain surgeries a total of 25 major surgeries, stress related illness. I am now broke living on less than $13,000/year after medical bills are paid. I had to retire at 62 due to health issues. I moved to a poor country to survive. Not all doctors are greedy.

some thingsays:

Not to belittle anyone’s situation… but… for every action, there is a reaction. I live with “one of those doctors” that chooses efficiency to be good at what he does, and see as many rare cases as he can as we are in a community with a high need in his specialty and his training is top-notch – he has a wait list a mile long to see him. He is anything but a villain, more-so a product of ivy league training. He has a partner that wants to spend “lots of time” with her pts. Guess whom is burnt out at 55?; not the one taking “more time,” but the one working his rear off to pay for all the overhead of the office, while allowing someone else a quality semi-retirement – she is happy and healthy from what I see. Further, it goes without saying, “they aren’t all greedy.” Frankly, as a nurse I have yet to meet one greedy doctor, most are burnt out, stressed to the hilt, exhausted, pessimistic, depressed, introverted, giving to a fault, at least in the hospital. One talks to herself down the hallway (a lot!), and bangs her head on the counter top in frustration at times. 12 hours? As a nurse, I do 16 hour shifts regularly, and come back for more up to 13 days in a row (and I make a tiny fraction of what my better half does, granted my training is a fraction of what he has, so hardly a comparison). I know RNs that have worked up to 23 days in a row. They, (admin) do not care if you are tired. Further, a side effect of this job (often) is divorce, so being neutered of “greed” (if it exists) will most likely take place. Let’s just do the math, office overhead, an ex that won’t work and wants to live a Beverly Hills lifestyle on air for income (literally), several (or many) self-entitled kids that will need financial support til 30, half of your income to Uncle Sam, you make the “most” in your family/siblings so get the job of supporting parents for life, etc. What’s left?

Ioana Perenisays:

Thank you Inspiring articles- make me feel so much better about how I feel in the NHS- still abuse and forced labour ‘ we just overbooked 2 patients on the list’-but I haven’t slept for 24 hours, did two clinics yesterday, spent half of the night answering calls and the other dealing with trauma in casualty/ main ED ! Reply – ‘we can’t cancel patients as hospital gets fined’ Great, another 2 redbulls and forever grateful to the NHS Surprising to see US system is similar on treating doctors badly I learned the hard way to get myself out of ‘burnout’- fill my life with positive enjoyable experiences non- work related. Can’t change the system? Change your life, youred or working environment Ultimately I signed an employment contract, with exit clauses and I haven’t signed my life away. Hospital doesn’t pay for my mobile contract, hence I answer calls I consider important and leave others in voicemail for next day. Take control of your time and make time for yourself, not selfish, but self caring and loving. Aim to change what you can, or accept until ready to move on Ultimately a happy content doctor will care far better for his family and patients than a stressed, a used ‘burnt out one’- if not doing it for yourself, do it for your patients!

Lisasays:

Thank you for this. This resonated very strongly with me. I am an intern and felt a lot of this when I started. The pressure and the judgment and the fatigue and the unclear expectations and the high stakes and some of my own health problems was somewhat overwhelming and I started to feel like Atlas holding the weight of the world on my shoulders, just struggling to keep everything from crashing down. It took a lot of reflection and soul searching but I emerged from it all with a much stronger sense of self. As the expression goes, “If I am not for myself, who will be for me?” I still get in trouble from time to time from the old school attendings who want me to “know my place,” but I stand up for myself. I listen to what they say and integrate what means sense into how I behave. I spent a lot of time in my mentor’s office, listening to his stories, learning from him, gaining from his wisdom. I was so frustrated with the healthcare system and how I couldn’t change it. He told me if I want to make a difference and be a leader, I first need to do my time and serve. Now I go to work with the idea of service in my heart and the revolutionary idea of putting my patient first in everything I do and treating them with kindness, respect, compassion, dignity and genorosity. I still get overwhelmed and overworked from time to time, but when I come back to serving the patient, it becomes a joy to go to work

Marcee Knierysays:

I was rear-ended by a doctor who had come off a double shift. This was around 5:30 PM. He felt so terrible!

Agbai Dimgbasays:

It’s a capitalist world: keep on using me until you use me up! You have to be drained of every bit of strength in you if you want to live like a ‘doctor’. And you’d better be good at what your doing otherwise any slip and down comes the hydra-headed ax of the administrators, lawyers and insurance companies. For some doctors by the time they’re ready to enjoy the money health issues arise because of the beating the body has endured over the years. But which profession does not have its downsides? We just need to work smart to balance work, family, service to humanity, and to God for those who believe, and of course come together for better collective bargaining…and know when to say ‘enough is enough’.

carole baraldisays:

This post brings back painful memories. I lost a close friend from medical school. During her intern year she fell asleep driving post-call and died in an accident. She was on her way to the airport for her first vacation. She was one of the most beautiful spirits I had ever met. She grew up poor helping her father raise her younger sister after her mother died. She worked so hard to get to medical school and fulfill her dreams. I feel again acutely the heartache of losing a dear friend and thinking about her father and sister who adored her and suffered another great loss in their lives. As an intelligent and compassionate young physician she had a bright future and I know would have been a healer to so many. This death was preventable. I know working too much and fatigue is not a problem limited to doctors and nurses, but I think in our field it is rampant. As you have repeatedly pointed out, how can we take care of others if we cannot take care of ourselves??? And why do our leaders not make that a priority??? If one life can be saved, isn’t paying for cab rides without even blinking an eye worth it? How many cab rides is a life worth? This hospital must not think that many. Thank you Pamela for all the work you are doing to raise awareness of a very broken system.

Sheguftasays:

My mom was in a car accident when driving home from a residency shift once and ended up in the hospital. She woke up and she had driven into the back of a parked truck (the front engine part of the car was pretty much under the truck). After physically recovering she had to take a month off of work and probably had minor driving related PTSD after (she was a lot more nervous/shakey when it came to driving ever since and it has affecting the quality of her driving greatly)

Ron Sautter MDsays:

In an ideal world, the only real organization we have, the AMA, would be standing up to fight on behalf of practicing physicians and residents. As it is, there is a heavy contingent of medical school and residency directors involved in the AMA leadership, so obviously we don’t live in an ideal world.

James Wilk, MDsays:

I have fallen asleep (thankfully for only a few seconds) on I-25 in Denver, almost hitting the concrete barrier between the northbound and southbound lanes, when post-call during my internal medicine residency. More than once.

Cherylsays:

Burned out family doctor at 42. 🙁 never thought I’d be done mid-career. I wanted to be a doctor since I was little.

Samantha Duttonsays:

After working as a behaviorist in a family medicine residency, your talk resonated with me. Although there were no suicides during my time, the stress level was unbelievable. I spent most of my time, not educating the residents in behavioral medicine but in “off the record” counseling. I am in agreement with changing the culture where it is learned…medical school. I would also advocate having a behaviorist (social worker, psychologist) in ALL residencies. I loved my residents, they were and are still very special to me…even if my office was the “cry room”.

Georgesays:

During residency, I had to crank up the AC (even in the winter) and blast the radio to try to stay awake on my 30-minute drive home after shifts. Fortunately, I never fell asleep while driving. But I did fall asleep a couple times waiting at lights. When I mentioned this (and similar issues) to my attendings at the time, I was essentially told to toughen up. Scary situation!

Luz Rodriguezsays:

That is totally insane, doctors are human beings not ROBOTS, I,remember working with residents that,were so exhausted they could not even walk on straight line but needed to be in surgery all night. The INSANITY need to STOP before we loose more doctor.

Dr Moosays:

I am a family physician, can fall asleep anywhere, anytime, day or night.If I have to sleep I pull over to a side street and sleep. This is not possible in some rough neighbourhoods and when on country roads. I live 50km from home,travelling to work on dangerous main roads with a high accident rate, high mortality rate.About once a week I have a near miss when other drivers tailgate or the unexpected happens. Once a small kitten dropped down from the back of a truck in front when it stopped momentarily in heavy traffic. He must have been sleeping in the undercarriage of the truck, then woke up and jumped down from the truck onto the tar road – straight into 6 lanes of heavy peak hour traffic. He tried to jump to the side, but he had nowhere to go except under the wheels of the cars. I cried all the rest of the way to work. Brake drums fallen off trucks, people running out in front of cars, small whirlwinds blowing cars out of their traffic lanes, loose cattle and wild animals on the road,heavy rain,hail, thunderstorms, it all goes on out here. Then I get to work and have to readjust from the survival rat run to be the dependable family Dr. Well, after my friend was run down by a garbage truck recently, I have taken stock and am moving to a job closer to home.Will also save on fuel costs.

Bill Mitchellsays:

It was common on surgery rotations for me to witness upper-levels commanding their lowers to send them a text when they got home so that they would know that they got home safely. As a med student I was protected from that much sleeplessness, thank goodness. I do look forward to the first time I receive such an instruction as an intern so that I can reply that I don’t send texts while I’m asleep and that if they can’t live with the uncertainty of my ability to stay alive on the roads they should consider trying to fix it instead of adding one more pointless bit of bureaucracy to my life. I’m anticipating being quite sleep-deprived at this point.

Has your dream job turned into a nightmare?

Copyright © 2011-2018 Pamela Wible MD   ❦   All rights reserved worldwide   ❦   site design by Pamela Wible MD and afinerweb.com

This content was originally published here.

[welovekpopscenarios]

Of Ancient Caves and Wonders (Jungkook x Reader)

Admin: Mimi

Prompt/Ask: Omg so I just got this cool idea!!! A scenario where you and BTS's Jungkook find out that you're both mythological creatures... Please and thank you! (:

Fandom: BTS

Genre: Fluff (?) , fantasy

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: slight language

Word Count: 8063

Authors Note: I’m sorry this took so long, I was down lately and I didn’t want to force out a fic, you all deserve better than that. So hopefully the length makes up for it! This was such a cool ask!! (and secretly something I’ve been wait 131413 years for because I’m a bitch for mythology lol) Also, I’ve been watching a lot of Outlast 2 Let’s Plays on Youtube lately (random, I know) and it’s been persuading me to make this scenario slightly horror based but I tried not to lol, but if it creeps in, just know it isn’t my fault. Well, it kinda is, but let’s ignore that for now ; ))))) Let me know of any errors, and happy reading as always! (Also I probably chose the most cliché and overused creatures but I tried my best ok I’m soRRY)

“Jungkook, oh my God, can we please stop? My legs are killing me!” you gasped.

When Jungkook had suggested going for a hike on the mountains on the next town over from yours, spinning tales of deep forests, rocky terrain and mysterious caves in an attempt to get you to agree to come, you thought it would be fun; a nice sunny day, surrounded but nature, and completely alone with the man you love.

And it started out that way, certainly. Despite your annoyance at waking up at an ungodly hour to drive to the mountains, and having to pack lunches and other essentials you needed, the day started out wonderfully. You had spent a good few hours, ascending higher and higher up the mountain and getting the most breath-taking views, worthy of pictures.

But then the heat started to get overbearing, your legs were in agony, and the sun was starting to make its descent from the sky, the light around you getting duller and duller with each passing hour. Now, you were exhausted, and ready to drop dead.

Jungkook gave a breathless laugh, obviously just as worn out as you were despite having more stamina than you, but too proud to show it.

“C’mon, Y/N. I just want to look around a bit more. There’s still a lot more to see – stop your whining!”

You hardly thought that there was much more to see than the trees, rocks and mud you’ve been traversing through for the past 10+ hours, but bringing it up was futile – Jungkook wanted to stay, and you couldn’t find your way back to the truck you drove in even if it had a giant light blinking from it. You’d probably fall and break your neck if you didn’t get lost first.

You heaved a sigh, walking silently beside him without protest, stepping over logs and climbing rocks, before realisation hit you.

“Wait,” you paused before Jungkook could help lift you over large boulder, staring at him with narrowed eyes. “You don’t want to keep exploring because of that stupid cave, do you?”

When Jungkook had gotten you to agree to the hike, he had begun to talk about this mysterious cave that supposedly could be found somewhere deep within the mountain, hidden from the public eye, a cave that was allegedly filled with artefacts and jewels that would make a good profit if one were to sell them. It was some sort of local legend, but one that has been there for generations upon generations, the story told and changed through time but never faded. At the time, you hardly took notice of his mentioning of the cave, not really listening when he started droning on about how the cave was haunted and cursed – you just didn’t believe in those things.

But now, you realise you should have paid more attention, because it was now beginning to seem like this cave was the sole reason for this trip in the first place.

Jungkook scratched the back of his head and moved his gaze towards his hiking boots, unable to look you in the eye, which only further confirmed your theory.

“Well…” he laughed awkwardly, and you rolled your eyes with an exasperated sigh. He quickly tried to placate your agitation, that has been building up throughout the evening when all you wanted to do was sleep for the next ten years.

“Are you seriously keeping us up on this mountain just to find some cave that probably doesn’t even exist?” you asked incredulously, and Jungkook spluttered for a moment before shutting his mouth, giving up on an excuse. You placed a hand on your hip and pinched the bridge of your nose, breathing in and out slowly.

“Jungkook, it’s getting dark! It’s past 6 in the evening, we should be going! It’s gonna take us forever to find our way off the mountain.”

Truthfully, you were a bit scared. You and Jungkook had derailed from the mountain trail some time ago, curiosity getting the better of the both of you, and now, travelling further into the mountain, it seemed it was harder to spot the pathway. You definitely weren’t looking forward to spending a night on a giant mountain with no protection from the wilderness or the dark, or no signal on your phones to call for help.

“Look, baby,” he began, but you levelled a hard stare towards him at the use of the pet name. He gulped, and tried again. “Look, I just wanted to see if it actually exists. I mean, what’s the harm in looking? There’s still plenty of sunlight, and we have torches on our phones,” he reasoned. “Plus, if it actually exists, imagine the money we could make off the things we’d find in there!”

You raised a brow at his words. “That’s a bit of a greedy thought, Kookie.”

He frowned, looking slightly shame faced when he realised the error of his words.

“Sorry,” he apologised. “But I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to keep something. As proof. C’mon Y/N, just another hour or two, and then we’ll head back to the truck, I promise.”

You were doubtful, and expressed that on your face. Why waste time on a cave that might not even be real when you could be heading home to the comfort of your bed after a nice, long shower?

“Pretty please,” he pleaded, turning on his puppy dog eyes, one you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist, despite trying. You crossed your arms and sighed irritably.

“Fine,” you conceded, and his face lit up in joy, “but only an hour or two. I don’t want to be stuck here after dark, it’s already creepy enough as it is.”

He nodded frantically, placing his hands on your waist and you felt yourself being hauled up onto the boulder. You clutched his shoulders and gave a yelp, watching as he deftly climbed up to stand beside you, before hopping down on the other side, offering a hand to help you down.

“No time to waste, then!” he beamed that bunny smile of his, and you prepared yourself for another bout of climbing.

The fading sun bled a variety of reds and oranges across the sky, which in turn faded into a sky of black and blues, a blank slate of obsidian sprinkled with the most astonishing twinkles from the stars, a world of infinity right above your heads, all protected by the light of the moon shedding her glow upon the earth.

It was a sight that truly left you awestruck, admiration sinking into your bones at the marvels the universe had to offer, if you just stopped and looked every once in a while.

You would have appreciated the sight much more if you weren’t so scared shitless of the vast expanse of forestry and mountain around you, the darkness flooding your vision and the cold the night brought making you shiver.

It had certainly been a lot longer than ‘an hour or two’, and you tried telling Jungkook as much, but you were shushed, being told that he’s “almost certain it’s around here” and “just a bit longer, don’t worry”.

“Jungkook, we need to start heading back now,” you warned, turning your head this way and that way, engaging your surroundings wearily. You were on edge at every snap of a twig, every hoot of an owl, every chirp of a cricket. You were creeped out, to say the least, and you wanted out.

The lights on your phones barely did anything except shine light just a fraction further from where you stood, and that battery was soon fading, percentage at 23% now.

You were definitely lost, and if you didn’t start returning to the car or called for help, you’d most likely be spending the night up on this eerie mountain. You never took much stock in it, but you weren’t oblivious to the other tales that came with these peaks; stories of people going missing, murdered, lost to the rocks and trees of the range, never to be found again. And you didn’t fancy becoming a part of those tales – real or not.

Jungkook let out a noise of irritation, eyes scanning the location with his brows furrowed.

“I…thought it would be here,” he murmured, perching on a nearby rock to look around.

You walked over towards a ledge, creeping by the edge before looking down with a gulp. The roads you drove on to get here were nothing more than a thin line in the distance, barely visible over the magnitude of tall trees populating that mountainside. The steepness gave you vertigo; the height at which you could plummet down the mountain from your current position making you queasy. The mountain stretched on, almost never ending, and you figured it would take hours for you to even reach a halfway point on the cliff while descending to base of the mountain.

You backed away from the ledge slowly, turning around to face Jungkook, who was pacing back and forth in frustration, cursing to himself quietly.

“Jungkook,” you called out coldly, and he stopped his pacing at the tone of your voice, dragging his gaze from the ground to meet your stony one. “We need to go. Now. We’re going to get lost if we continue, and at this point it’s going to take us forever to get the bottom. We need to call for help. Let’s go.”

Jungkook looked miffed at your orders, opening his mouth to reply but you cut him off before he could drag you down further in to this mess.

“But I’m sure it’s clos-“

“No,” you snapped, and you felt bad for taking all of your anger out on him, but you just wanted to return to safety. “I’m tired, hungry, cold, sore, and I just want to go home. Look for this stupid cave with Taehyung or Namjoon next time, I’m leaving.”

And with that, you turned on your heel and began to climb down the mountainside, hands reaching out to hold onto the barks of trees and edges in the mountains walls to help you down. You couldn’t hear anything from Jungkook, until after a moment, rushed footsteps came closer to you and he was joining you in your descent, albeit grumpily.

You turned your head to him, about to say something about the steepness of the terrain, when your foot slipped, and you tumbled with a shriek down an alcove, the opening which was hidden by shrubs and bushes, not easy to catch with your eyes, even if you looked hard enough.

The branches and thorns of the bushes tore at your arms and legs, lacerating your arms in cuts and scrapes as you twisted to escape the thicket. You vaguely remember hearing Jungkook yell out your name, but you couldn’t focus on it, as in the next second you hit the ground hard and your body rolled upon impact, pain shooting across your body.

You felt water encase you as your rolling came to an unexpected stop; light blue invading your vision as you fell towards the bottom. Your mouth opened in a scream – a mistake on your part, for you ended up swallowing the water, allowing it to fill your lungs and stomach. You thrashed around you, desperate to reach the surface and breathe in.

Jungkook dropped down through the shrubbery after you and ran over to your side, reaching into the water and grabbing a hold of your wrist, hoisting you up and out of the liquid. He laid you out on the ground as you coughed and spluttered, lungs fighting to regain oxygen, his hands flitting over your prone form – afraid to touch you in case you were badly hurt.

“Oh my God, Y/N, are you ok? Are you hurt? Can you hear me? Say something!” he panicked, eyes wide with fear as he looked down at you.

You groaned, blinking your eyes open, landing on his face above yours. He helped you to sit up, hand rubbing soothingly up and down your back, and you collected yourself the best you could.

“I’m fine,” you croaked, coughing once more to let the water out of your lungs. “Just sore.”

Jungkook sagged in relief, and collected you in his arms, holding your soaked body tightly.

“Oh thank God,” he sighed, and pushed you back far enough so he could move strands of your wet hair out of your face and behind your ears. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered, face contorted in shame and concern.

“It’s not your fault I fell,” you tried to reason, but he shook his head.

“I shouldn’t have kept us up here for this long, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt,” he argued.

“It’s ok Jungkook, really. It isn’t your fault,” you repeated, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I shouldn’t have spent so much time looking for this dumb cave,” he mumbled, brows knitted together angrily. You looked around the area you’d fallen, and your jaw dropped open in surprise.

“Well,” you whispered, eyes ready to pop out of their sockets from how wide they were, “I guess you got your wish, Kookie.”

Jungkook gave a confused look, and followed you gaze, his own mouth parting in awe. You had fallen into a cave of sorts, a wide area of stone formed to create a cavern. You had tumbled into the small pool covering one half of the area; bright cerulean water that was so intense it casted a marvellous glow throughout the grotto, illuminating the stony room perfectly. If you looked long enough, you almost swore you saw the water sparkling unnaturally, but that could have just been a trick of the eye. Staring at the other side of the cave, you laid your eyes on an assortment of artefacts; ranging from statuettes, to jewellery, to clothing, baskets, pots, anything. They lined the walls of the cavern, almost orderly, some large and nearly touching the roof, to smaller trinkets sitting atop stones jutting out from the walls.

Jungkook stood up slowly, and studied the wonders of the cave with his mouth wide open. He remembered to offer a hand to you, and you took it, allowing him to tug you upwards and lean into his side for support, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“God,” he gasped, “look at this place.”

“How many people do you think have seen this place before?” you questioned. You frowned when you tasted a foul aftertaste in your mouth, rolling your tongue around your cheeks. “Ew,” you grunted.

Jungkook turned to look at you with perturbed stare.

“What?”

“I think I swallowed some of that water when I fell in,” you grimaced. Smacking your lips together, you pouted at the shimmering waves of the pool. “Tastes kinda weird,” you explained.

“Well, it doesn’t look as though it’s dirty,” he speculated. “I mean, look at it. It’s practically glowing,” he gave a laugh of disbelief.

You glanced uneasily at the water; he was right. It was unusually bright, one of the clearest and most beautiful pools of water you’ve ever seen in existence. But water shouldn’t look that way, especially one found in a dark, dirty and dingy cave like this one. Before you could express your concerns, Jungkook interrupted you.

“Look at all of this stuff!” he marvelled, rushing over to the artefacts at the other side.

Sparing one last look at the water, you followed Jungkook, eyeing the different ornaments and clothing. You could spot some weapons in their sheaths, shields leaning against the walls, helmets resting beside them.

“Where do you think these came from? What year?” Jungkook wondered, and you thought for a moment as you surveyed the curios around you.

“Hmm, most of these look ancient,” you pondered, and Jungkook snorted out a quick ‘astute observation’ before quieting under your glare. “Judging by the writing on some of the scrolls here, it looks to be Greek,” you continued, but upon further inspection, some jewellery had foreign writing inscribed on them, different to the Greek on the scrolls. “Wait, it looks like some of the rings here have ancient Norse on them. And those shields! They have Roman writing on them! And there are some books here I don’t even know what language is on them!”

Jungkook whistled lowly. “Wow, you know your stuff,” he smiled proudly at you, and you laughed.

“Yeah, I guess. Those projects I had to do when I was younger came in handy, I suppose.”

Jungkook chuckled and continued to study the artefacts.

“So, what are they all doing here? Do you think someone collected them all and hid them here?” he wondered, bending down to rummaged through a basket of cloths and woven goods.

“I suppose so,” you agreed, fingers skimming over a bronze bracelet forged in the shape of a snake with its mouth wide open with its fangs protruding from its mouth, the light making the band appear a near golden colour. You almost felt as if the jade eyes engraved into its sockets were following you as you moved on. “Kind of a strange place to hide thi-“

“Hey, look at this!”

At his excited request, you turned your body to face his as he proudly sported what looked to be a wolf’s pelt fashioned into a cape, thin gold chains hanging off the neck to keep it around his body. He lifted the hood of the cape over his head, and it was shaped as a wolf’s head – snout and all. You thought you spotted some fangs on the mouth as well. The fur of the cape looked like it had gold bits strewn throughout the fur, causing it to shine bright against the dark coat. Two golden disks held the chains lying against Jungkook’s chest, and looked to have more Roman symbols on them.

“Pretty cool, huh” he beamed, wiggling his eyebrows and turning around in circle, showing off ridiculous poses as he did do. You laughed at his antics and shook your head wryly.

“Looking good, Romulus,” you complimented, and he pretended to swoon, batting his eyelashes at you demurely and you snickered.

“This thing’s heavy,” he commented, shrugging his shoulders against the added weight. He struck one more ‘manly’ pose at you, flexing his muscles at you and winced as you flicked his forehead, laughing at his goofiness.

His face contorted into one of discomfort after a few seconds, and he began to scratch at his forearms.

“This is really itchy, too,” he complained.

“Well, it is an actual fur pelt. And it is years old. I would think that it wouldn’t feel the nicest anymore,” you quipped, and he rolled his eyes at you, lifting the pelt over his head and placing it in the basket once again.

The odd taste in your mouth was even stronger now, and the glow of pool started to put a strain on yours eyes. You found yourself blinking harder and faster, feeling a headache starting to form. You groaned and pressed your hand to your forehead, and Jungkook hurried to your side, eyes alight with concern.

“Hey, are you ok? You look a little pale, maybe you should sit down. You might have hit your head harder than you thought,” he advised, and you allowed him to lower you to the ground gently. You felt incredibly lightheaded now, and the room was spinning at a fast pace around you, your stomach turning with nausea, and you buried your face in your arms.

Jungkook continued to scratch at his body, alternating between his arms to his back to his neck and even his legs at some points, feeling an itch that just couldn’t be cured, and he felt as if it was worse with each passing second. He really shouldn’t have worn that stupid cape. He shouldn’t have looked for this cave to begin with, his mind supplies.

“I…feel…pass ou…” he heard you mumble, but he couldn’t make out most of what you had said with the ringing that has now made an appearance in his ear.

‘What?’ he wanted to asked, but all that left his lips was a croak, and he too started to feel as if the world was turning too fast for his liking. He sat down next to you, scratching vigorously at his head but his limbs felt too heavy for him to pick up anymore, and so he laid down on the dirty ground, head pounding and eyes clenched shut.

When you realised everything had gone eerily quiet, you gathered the strength to lift your head out of your arms and looked over at where Jungkook lay. Upon seeing him lie still, you made a noise of alarm and attempted to help him before your vision glazed over and you collapsed beside him, staring at his serene face before the world became black.

You don’t know exactly how long you lay in the cave, mind clouded with darkness except for the illusions of waves and fish that swam in your subconscious, but when Jungkook shook you awake worriedly and help you to climb out of this dreaded cave, the sun was just peeking behind the mountains and awakening the world to his shine.

With what little battery he had left on his phone, Jungkook called the park rangers, who arrived in record time to guide Jungkook and yourself down the mountain in the fastest and safest way possible.

When you glanced back at the cave, it looked as though the bushes were untouched.

You and Jungkook barely said anything to each other, too spooked to talk, but you clung to each others sides, afraid to stray too far from one another. You don’t understand why neither of you spoke up about the cave to the rangers, but you figured it was too strange a story for them to believe, and it seemed Jungkook had agreed, and so both of you stayed quiet about the entire ordeal, spinning a lie about how the both of you had camped up here but lost your gear by dropping them down a hole.

When you had arrived back at Jungkook’s apartment, you walked in to see the gang all sitting in the tiny living room and a miffed Yoongi, who evidently didn’t want this many people crowding around in his apartment on a Sunday afternoon, his ‘special’ lazy day.

Jin (and the others) had some choice words for the two of you, reprimanding you for worrying them and not even texting any of them to let them know you were ‘ok’. Jungkook had decided to explain the story from start to finish this time, trusting the guys enough to not call you crazy or delusional.

The guys didn’t really know what to say when he had finished, they just stared at each other in puzzlement with raised brows. Jin nodded his head slowly, stood up from his seat, and announced that he was going to make a large dinner since the pair of you haven’t eaten since yesterday.

And nothing more was said about the hike, or the cave, or your story. The guys didn’t outright say they didn’t believe you, but you knew, you knew they thought it too strange a story to find truth in. So they stayed silent. It was as if it had never happened. You noticed Jungkook’s crestfallen face from the corner of your eyes, but he had elected to not argue more. You could empathise with the others; it was quite the bizarre story, and things just didn’t add up. They had heard the tales from when they were children, but shimmering water? Golden pelts? Passing out in the cave? It was just too much.

So, after feasting on the food Jin had cooked, and scrubbing yourselves of all the dirt and grime and other ungodly things from that cave, you all sat in the living room once again, and watched a movie together, although your mind was elsewhere. And seemingly, everything went back to normal.

And that was that.

Well, that was what you thought.

The symptoms didn’t come until about a week later. You remember coming to the realisation vividly, sitting in the cafeteria of your college with Jungkook, Hoseok and Yoongi during lunch, talking about whatever came to mind, when you noticed the strange ticks coming from both yourself and Jungkook.

You kept your research about the cave to yourself, if they didn’t want to discuss it then you wouldn’t bring it up, but you needed answers. Your efforts were partially fruitless, most of the same legends and tales about the cave coming up in your searches online. Nothing palpable; the stories you had read had minor differences and facts, so you couldn’t count any as truthful. You did, however, find old accounts of others who had discovered the cave, years old sightings that reported the cave as ‘evil’ and that ‘no one should step foot in it, less they be cursed by the ancient Gods.’ Whatever that meant. Unfortunately, again, you couldn’t put much trust into the sightings, taking them to be the ramblings of madmen like had been written by the interviewers, and most refused to speak about what they had seen in the cave to begin with.

You didn’t explicitly ask him, but you assume Jungkook was doing the same as you. You even caught him on one of the websites you found, but he closed the laptop quickly before you could get a good look at it.

The four of you were relaxing at table in the corner of the cafeteria, winding down after classes and catching up during a busy week of college. Leaning against Jungkook, you picked up your water bottle and chugged nearly half the bottle, putting it down with a sigh. Hoseok stared at you in disbelief, looking from the bottle to you with an impressed expression.

“Thirsty?” he asked amusedly, laughing when you nodded vigorously.

“Thirsty enough to nearly down half a litre of water, apparently,” Yoongi mumbled, narrowed eyes trained on you.

“What? I want to stay hydrated,” you shrugged, and yes, it was true. But you noticed lately, you really needed to stay hydrated. You had a bottle of water in your hands nearly all the time, but no matter how much you drank, it was never enough. You were always unbearably thirsty now, and nothing satisfied you. If you didn’t drink or stay in water for long periods of time, you felt you’d grow weaker, feeling way too dehydrated and woozy to focus.

“Damn, isn’t this, like, your third bottle today?” Jungkook worried, frowning at you with concern.

“Wait, what? Your third bottle?” Hoseok blurted, and you nodded silently. “Can’t you like, get water poisoning, or something like that if you drink that much?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” you stammered, “I don’t feel sick. I feel better when I drink the water anyway.”

Jungkook made a noise of disapproval, hand reaching up to scratch at his head. You swatted his hand away before it could make contact, fixing him with a glare.

“Stop scratching, you’re going to tear your skin off if you keep doing it!” you scolded, and Jungkook tutted in response, using his shoulder to scratch at the side of his head instead.

“Yeah, Scratchy, you’ve been doing it non-stop this past week. It’s disgusting. Go see a doctor about it or something, I’m sick of seeing you scratch yourself while I’m in the apartment. Like you have fleas,” Yoongi complained, picking at his food with disinterest before tossing the plastic fork on the table.

“You’re hair has gotten longer, maybe if you cut it, the itching won’t be as bad,” Hoseok advised. “It could just be the heat.”

“Believe me, that isn’t gonna help,” Yoongi groaned, resting his head on his palm. “He cut his hair at the start of the week, and it’s already grown back. Plus, he has to shave like twice everyday. I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you honestly need to see a doctor. That shit isn’t normal.”

Yoongi stood up with a sigh, gathering his things before explaining he had to get to music before class started to fix his equipment. He offered a quick “later” before walking in the other direction with a small wave.

You watched Yoongi’s back as he walked towards the doors of the cafeteria, mulling over what he said about Jungkook. This wasn’t normal. He wasn’t normal. You weren’t normal. And all of this only started happening since that night at the cave.

You drank the rest of your water in a few seconds (still not enough), and stood up abruptly.

“I’m going to get some more, I’ll be right back,” you announced before striding away towards the vending machines. You reckon you already spent nearly a tenner on water bottles alone today, this was starting to burn a hole in your purse.

You heard footsteps behind you and looked back to see Jungkook rushing to catch up to you, grabbing your hand and interlocking your fingers when he was beside you.

“Hobi said he had to get something out of his car, so he left,” he explained.

“Ah,” was all you said, and continued towards the vending machine. Once there and you had received your bottle, nearly finishing the entire thing in one go, Jungkook squeezed your hand to garner your attention.

“What’s up?” you asked him.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to go on another trip, this weekend. I know this really nice lake that we could camp at, really quiet and safe. No one goes there, no one really knows about it,” he told you, but you regarded him sceptically.

“You want to go on another trip? And camp? Do you remember how well the last one turned out?”

He rolled his eyes at that, scratched the back of his neck and ear, and let out a breath before replying.

“Yeah, I know,” he droned, staring at you with a dull expression that made you smirk. “But I just, I don’t know. I feel like I need to be in the woods, or in nature, or I’ll go crazy, you get me? I don’t know how to explain it, but I just…” he scratched at his arm, “I don’t know. I just need to go. And I want you to come with me. It’s hard to explain,” he finished, shoulders sagging in frustration.

You pondered for a moment. It seems like he really wanted – no, needed, to go. And of course you’ll go with him.

“Did you say it had a lake?”

He glanced hopefully at you.

“Yeah, it does. It’s attached to the ocean, the lake is actually near a small beach. It’d be perfect for you, you’ve been looking to go swimming lately.”

A salty lake? One you can stay in for as long as possible?

That sounded perfect.

“Ok,” you agreed, and he grinned in excitement, “sounds like a plan.”

The drive hadn’t taken that long, but roads were certainly quiet. When Jungkook said it was secluded, he wasn’t joking. It was practically deserted, not a soul to be seen, and it was beautiful.

The woods were lush and green – vibrant colours dancing in canopies over your heads as you walked through the forest with your gear in hand, the prettiest flowers blooming in the darkest places. You could practically smell the saltiness of the lake and the beach (apparently Jungkook actually could, but when you explained you couldn’t he just showed the most confused expression. The smell was so strong, how couldn’t you smell it?)

Arriving at the lake, you gaped at the scenery – the sky reflected off the surface of the water, making it appear as if a piece of the sky had fallen to the ground for you to touch. The ground by the banks were smooth and even, bright green grass sprouting from the earth, a perfect place to lay down your tent and belongings. This place was perfect, and the water was calling out to you.

Jungkook laughed as he watched you practically sprint to a spot on the ground, hurriedly helping him set up the tent before ripping off your clothes, swimsuit on underneath.

“Wow, you even wore your swimsuit underneath? That excited, huh?” he chuckled, as did you.

“I couldn’t wait, I feel like I’m gonna die if I don’t get in straight away.”

And with those words, you took a few steps backwards, before running and jumping into the lake, bubbles floating around you as the fresh water hit your body.

Instantly you felt so relieved – all the problems you’ve been having since the start of the week just left as the water touched your body, soothing you in ways you never thought imaginable.

You stayed underwater for as long as you could, opening your eyes and looking around the bottom of the lake at the stones and water plants (wow, you could see so clearly, it must be really bright right now). After a while, you returned to the surface when you heard a noise coming from above you.

You breached the surface and breathed in calmly, opting to float on your back and stare at the clouds.

“Y/N, are you ok?” Jungkook asked, looking quite panicked.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” you laughed confusedly.

“Because you were under the water for like, 5 or 6 minutes straight?” he rose a brow.

What? 6 minutes? It wasn’t that long, was it? You didn’t feel like you were losing breath at all. You had felt fine, in fact you would have stayed there longer, if Jungkook hadn’t called you.

Your legs started to feel tingly, but you ignored it, directing your attention to Jungkook.

“I didn’t realise I was down there for that long,” you responded, you legs getting heavier with each kick you made to stay afloat.

“I never knew you could do that, why didn’t ever show me? That’s such a cool tric-what the hell?” Jungkook gasped, staring at you weirdly.

“What? What’s wrong?” you asked, and looked down to where he was pointing at.

The water surrounding you was lit up by a bright light coming from below – no wait, from you.

What?

The water shimmered and sparkled around you, and your legs felt too heavy to kick anymore, like two dead weights attached to your torso. They hung together, and a numb feeling spread through them, until a tight pressure took it’s place and you yelled out in shock.

The pressure forced your legs to press against one another, and it felt as if they were…knitting together? You couldn’t move your legs, it was as if something was tying them to each other.

The pressure built up for a few seconds until it faded, and you breathed in a deep breath of air out of relief. Jungkook sat at the edge of the lake, ready to jump in and collect you, but you told him to stay where he was, in case whatever that was would hurt him too.

The light faded into a dull glow until is disappeared, and you stayed still, too afraid to move in case you would cause more pain to yourself.

“What the hell was that?! Are you ok? Come here, get out of the water,” Jungkook ordered, scratching at his scalp once again out of nervousness, and you went to follow his advice.

But when you kicked one of your legs, it didn’t move.

Well, the singular leg didn’t move. Both did. But it felt wrong. It felt as if they were connected. It felt as if they were…one.

You tried kicking in the direction of Jungkook, and when you did, you were pushed forward suddenly by the force of your own legs, reaching Jungkook at a speed which was inhuman even for the best swimmer.

“Oh my god, that was fast,” he exclaimed. He held out his hands to lift you out of the water when you got to him, and as his hands started to pull you up, he yelped and dropped you, falling on his behind and staring at you with eyes full of fear.

“What? What the fuck?” you yelled, panic flooding through your stomach at his face.

“What the fuck happened to your legs? Why do you look like a god damn fish?” he shrieked, and you gaped at him.

You ducked back under the water, and moved your eyes to your legs – or should you say tail?

Something you’d say resembled a fish tail covered the lower half of your body completely. It was coloured in varying hues of blues, purples and silvers, and if the light shone on them a certain way, it would almost look like a rainbow. The scales began from just above your hips, and ended with a giant indigo fin that swished with the waves of the water.

You rose to the surface and clawed you way onto the bank, tail dragging behind you heavily.

“Jungkook get it off me!” you shrieked. “Where are my legs? What is this?!”

“I don’t fucking know!” he cursed, in hysterics just as you were. “Look, Y/N calm down! Freaking out won’t help!”

“How can’t I, Jungkook? I look like a freaking mermaid!”

At that, you paused at your own words. That can’t be true, can it?

Jungkook scowled warily at your sudden silence, regarding your tail silently but with awe. It looked so beautiful, but where the hell – how the hell – why?

You thought over everything that happened since the incident at the cave; you fell into the weird water, also accidently swallowing some, you had that strange taste in your mouth and then you blacked out. You’ve been very dehydrated since then, you needed tons of water, and being in this water – salt water, satisfied you completely. And then you grew a tail. Ah. You knew there was something fishy about that cave.

Did you just make a pun?

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Jungkook waved his hands in front of your face and you blinked, looking at him blankly.

“The cave,” you whispered.

“What about it?”

“This happened because of the cave,” you elaborated. “Because I fell into that water. And I swallowed some of it. Now I’m…a mermaid. I guess.”

You could literally see the gears turning in Jungkook’s head as he processed the information you just gave him. His face dawned in realisation eventually, but it was quickly followed by a look of bewilderment.

“How are you so calm about this?” he questioned, and you laughed lightly.

“Oh, I’m not,” you chuckled humourlessly, “internally I’m screaming, and I’m screaming loudly, but freaking out won’t get me out of this situation.”

He nodded, still staring at your tail as if it was going to bite him. You moved it in his direction and he squealed, crawling backwards on his hands to get away from it.

You laughed at his face – plastered with fear. He glared at you when he realised what you did was intentional, and slowly moved towards you once again.

“Can I…touch it?” he asked cautiously, and you nodded, taking his hand in yours and place both of them on top of your scales. They were rough, yet also smooth to touch, and your fingers ran along the ridges of the tail. It really was magnificent, and you smiled, already taking a liking to it.

“Wow,” you breathed. “I’m a mermaid!”

“Not exactly,” Jungkook corrected, and scraped lightly at his arms. “I did some research on the cave, and I found that there was nothing related to mermaids there, but according to some reports, it was actually sirens, not mermaids. A sailors worst enemy. So, I would think you’re a siren, instead of a mermaid.”

“But, sirens sing, don’t they? I can’t sing,” you articulated, and Jungkook smiled.

“You didn’t try yet. Why don’t you find out?”

“What, should I start belting out some old school Gwen Stefani? ‘Hollaback Girl’ is the new anthem for sirens,” you replied sassily, and he whacked your tail lightly.

“Just sing anything, idiot,” he snarked.

And so you opened your mouth, prepared for failure, when melodic notes instead of the screeches you expected floated out of your mouth, setting Jungkook in a trance the longer you sang your sweet song.

Stopping, Jungkook had to shake himself out of his daze, staring at you in wonderment, but when you frowning worriedly at him, he mimicked your expression.

“What if I stay like this forever, Jungkook,” you inquired, and he knew your concerns weren’t misplaced. Despite how cool this was, if this was permanent, this could be very dangerous for the both of you.

“Look, get out of the water now, and if nothing happens after a while, we’ll see what we can do then. Ok?” he offered, and although you felt reluctant to leave the sanctity of the water, you didn’t fancy staying a fish forever, so you allowed Jungkook to drag you further up the bank and laid you near the tent.

You lifted your tail up and down, watching the scales glinting in the sunlight, and lowered it down again, when something popped into your head as your turned your gaze towards Jungkook who sat beside you rubbing at his head.

“What will happen to you?”

His gaze moved to yours, stunned, before settling in thought.

“I…don’t know,” he answered honestly.

“You wore the wolf pelt, didn’t you? And Yoongi said you’ve been scratching a lot, which happened at the cave too. What if you turn into some dog?”

He balked at your statement, face growing pale.

“Oh my god…what if I turn into some stupid looking dog? Like a Pomeranian? They’re cute, but like, they’re not manly. I want a cool dog, like a husky, not some tiny barkin-“

You interrupted his ramblings with your loud laughter trilling through the forest, and his face melted into a small smile at the sound.

“Is that seriously what you’re worried about? Not even about turning into another animal?”

He blushed, scratching at the back of his head.

“Well, the more research I did about the cave, and reports about people changing from what they saw in there, the more I thought it would be cool, you know? Like a superpower. I mean, you’re a siren! That’s amazing! And I want a power too! We’d be a superhero couple!”

You giggled at his childishness, and realised maybe he was right. If you weren’t stuck with a giant tail forever, maybe this could be cool! Who else has powers like this! You’re a siren, for crying out loud!

“Alright, I see your point,” you conceded, and his bunny like grin enveloped his face. “But I guess…now we wait.”

“Now we wait.”

Your tail had appeared at around 6 in the afternoon, and it was near 10 when the scales on your legs had started to peel away and dissolve, leaving something akin to glitter in its wake (“that’s going to be a bitch to clean up,” Jungkook had muttered).

So, whatever happened at the cave, and whatever you turned into, it wasn’t permanent. And you reasoned that the trigger for your tail to form would be salt water.

You also seemed to have lost the need to have water all the time now, you didn’t feel as deprived of the substance as you had the past week. It would take careful planning and patience, but you could live with this. You could live with being a siren.

Jungkook, however, still had to let his ‘powers’ show.

During the hours in which you both waited for your fish tail to disappear, you took note of how erratic he started becoming. The scratching had become worse – you noticed his arms or forehead had little specks of blood from where he scratched too hard. He became shifty, constantly looking around him, head spinning at whatever sound he heard in the distance, nose turned upwards to sniff at a scent he caught.

After your legs came back, you decided to make some food over the campfire Jungkook had built a few hours previous. So, with your back turned to him, you prepared the food and fanned the flames of the fire.

You should have kept an eye on him, though. You were too busy to notice the growls emitting from the back of his throat, or his hunched over form clawing at his back harshly. What you did notice, was the loud scream tearing from his chest, and when you turned around, you were alarmed to see his body grow in size from its bent over position. His hands dug into the dirt beneath him, morphing into what looked like claws, and his spine jutted outwards, making you cringe at the cracking sounds. The hair on his body grew rapidly until it covered his entire form, and his limbs twisted this way and that way until they stilled in the position similar to a hound prepared to attack. His shoes ripped open reveal paws and claws like his hands, and his jeans couldn’t handle the extra stretch, tearing to shreds and letting a wagging bushy tail swing free. The dog – no, wolf would be the better word – was dark brown in colour, like Jungkook’s hair, and you almost screamed when he turned his head in your direction and instead of your boyfriends face, a large snout and dark, watchful eyes greeted you instead. Torn clothes spread all over the ground, a large wolf took the place of Jungkook, breathing heavily and keeping a careful eye on you.

You were too stunned to speak, and frankly too scared, in case he turned on you.

He approached you slowly, cautiously, and sniffed at you, breathing in your scent, before tentatively licking your hand, signalling he meant you no harm.

“Wait, you know who I am?” you asked.

The wolf lifted its front leg, in what you assume was a yes.

“Huh. Well, you’re no Pomeranian.”

He seemed to puff out his chest proudly at that, and you took the opportunity to stand. You gawked at the size of him, nearing the same height as you, and overflowing with the fluffiest fur, fur that you didn’t hesitate to feel, rubbing it down. Jungkook closed his obsidian eyes at the feeling, and you chortled, scratching behind his ears that had him panting.

“My God, you’re huge,” you breathed, and looked up at the sky, to see a bright moon glowing high in the sky. Of course. How cliché. A full moon.

“Well, it seems like you turn when the moon is out. Or maybe you turn when you’re exposed to the moon. I guess we have to test that theory again.”

Jungkook whined when you stopped rubbing at his fur and bobbed his head under your arms, basking in the attention you’re showing him. You guffawed when you remembered something.

“You remind me of those stupid wolves in that Twilight series,” you laughed, and Jungkook gave a low growl, showing you the driest look a wolf could possibly make, making you laugh even harder, until you had to sit down.

Jungkook laid his huge wold form down beside you, and you leaned into his warmth, throwing your arms around him.

“Aww, you’re like a huge teddy bear!” you squealed, and Jungkook sighed, but curled into your body protectively.

“So, a fish and a dog, huh?”

He snorted and stared at you out of the corner of his black eyes.

“I guess we can’t really tell anyone,” you whispered, Jungkook whined beside you. “At least, not for a while! We just have to learn more about ourselves, and then we can show the guys! We trust them.”

Jungkook rested his head on your lap, and you ran your fingers through his fur.

“Quite the superhero couple, aren’t we,” you smiled.

Quite the superhero couple, indeed.

“Hey, I just remembered something. When you change back in the morning or whatever, you’re gonna be naked, aren’t you?” you intoned, and Jungkook groaned, moving away from you to hide in the tent.

“Wait, I’m sure I brought my spare pink shorts! You know, the ones with the little love hearts on them?”

A pitiful howl resounded through the campsite at your offer.

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

The Problem with MSM

So I honestly don't have many followers. I'm also prone to going on tangents. And most of my posts are rooted in politics. Not by choice mind you. I was not the one that decided literally everything in existence is political. I'm also not the one that created the view points that want everything to be political. TL;DR At the bottom.

To start off however, I need you to understand the process of radicalization.

Find someone who feels discontent with how a situation is, or how their life is

Tell this person that what's happening to them is not their fault

Place the blame for this person's problems on a certain group (political group, racial group, religious group, etc.)

Talk to the person like you know how they feel, "drop your guard" and tell them "problems you've had that were not your fault" blaming that same group

Show them that they are either a victim or oppressed in some way, shape, or form.

Slowly start swaying their views further to the extreme, by showing them other instances of "others who are being attacked or are victims" of said group.

Promptly but softly oppose any "differing views" with warped information or flat out lies

Get them to start going to events and taking to others that have already been radicalized

Have you and another radicalized individual, keep track of this person and say you support them and their issues

Sit back and watch

Now this is a rough lost but more or less the bare bones basics of radicalizing other people. Though in some cases it takes more steps and in some others it takes less. So what does this have to do with MSM (Mainstream Media)? Quite a few things in modern day actually.

The job of MSM is to get you information, as fast as humanly possible. This however was not the first goal priority in the past. In the past, the first priority was to cover a story as factually as the could, and look for more information keeping people constantly updated. Here we get to our first real problem for Media today. Technology. The Advent of modern technology has been both a blessing and a curse in this regard. And of course I'm talking about the internet in its current form. The internet being the very center of information distribution in 2019. And it has been for almost 12 years now.

So what did this change? Basically everything we know today. "Old wives tales" are now a Google search away. Feeling sick? WebMD says you have Cancer. Looking for the next hour story? Check CNN's Twitter account. The Internet brought us a great, many things. But it has taken away just as many. MSM has had to slowly move operations into social media in order to try and stay relevant. This because many people have unplugged, and have gone full digital. The only real exceptions being places of business. And with the world at your finger tips at the clock of a button, being factual has lost its relevance. Not to mention that as far back as 2013-2014 activists started working for MSM companies. Most notably progressive activists. This causes many problems we currently see today. Below is an example of what a headline used to look like, and what most headlines look like now:

Normal headline: Shooting in Birmingham leaves 3 dead and several injured during city wide festival.

Headline now: White, Trump supporter, Nazi, KKK, skin head, punches 2 people in hate crime.

See the difference? The first headline shows the basic facts and dives into known details during the article. Often they'd avoid opinions all together. The second one one the other hand, blatantly discloses anything that could generate clicks. Why? Because true or not, outrage sells. So over the past several years, MSM has been slowly radicalizing us. But they do this on a bipartisan level.

Are you black? The cops will kill you, and the white man is evil. Can't find a job? Racism. Are you a woman? Then you're unhappy because "rape culture". Do you regret having sex with that guy? Well guess what? He actually raped you without you realizing. Are you white? You're evil. Are you strait? You're a monster and should give all your money to gay people. Are you a man? You are responsible for every rape ever committed. You're also a pedophile and violent. Are you a strait white man? Oh boy you won the jackpot because you're basically Hitler.

See my point here? MSM spends most of it's time trying to rage bait you into clicking their articles. And in doing so we've gotten so lazy as a country that half the time, we don't even read past the headlines. And MSM knows this. They don't care if you read what they write. They are just radicalizing you so they can keep feeding you outrage. Because the more often they do it, the more often you will click it, skim all of 3 lines and then hop on Twitter and talk about how outraged you are. Sure, we are just as to blame for letting it happen to us, but most of us used to have at least some trust in the media. But after SEVERAL severely awfully false hit pieces that were headline news for almost months, many of us have started staying away from MSM.

What incidents might I be talking about?

Covington Catholic controversy (Almost every media outlet took a 7 second clip and ran with it. Turns out, there was a full 2hr video out there, and the Native American man, whom CNN interviewed, lied his ass off. Most media also chose to ignore the VERY beginning of the video which showcased a group called The Black Hebrew Israelites. These individuals, called Trump a homosexual, called the Native Americans there "Uncle Tomahawk", and said Gay people should not have rights. THESE CATHOLIC STUDENTS, were appalled by this statement. But what did we see in the media? "Racist Maga hat kid threatens and blocks the path of a Poor innocent Native American man."

Duke Lacrosse. Years after these kids were crucified by the Media and many others, the girl actually came out saying it never happened. You know who reported on this? Next to no one.

Ferguson. Now as controversial as this one is, the media took and RAN with it. What followed after the skewed coverage was a cult like gathering that led to phrases like, "hands up don't shoot" and "oink oink, bang bang". But Obama had the issue federally investigated. Both witnesses and the coroner report said basically the same thing. That he was aggressively wrestling with the cop trying to take his gun. But, it's too late. Now all cops are evil, and Democrat politicians are quoting it like it happened yesterday, and claiming the cop guilty. Why? Because MSM already got what they needed. They radicalized the individuals they wanted, people who will come back to them for, "facts".

And what does all of this boil down to? A video that made me write this out.

2 things need to be said here. 1. The "manifesto" as it were, was actually debunked to have been uploaded by the shooter, by the site admin himself. As well as several other sources. 2. If, by some chance the manifesto was real, and he had someone upload it for him, he mentions several liberal talking points, like universal basic income, saving the environment, among other left policies.

But this brings me back to both the beginning and to this story. Assuming for a moment, the manifesto was his. How did this happen? Most of you might just jump and say, "RACIST NAZIS", or something slightly more colorful. But here is the thing. MSM is partly responsible for all of this. Assuming the conspiracy that the CIA or FBI is responsible is false, I agree with the YouTuber in the picture. I believe that if you belittle and berate someone enough over time, you can cause them to do extreme things. I mean look at this site. Look at Twitter. Look at MSM. "White people bad", "white people are evil" "K*LL all whites" "white privilege", "fuck men", "male tears", "man spreading", "mansplaining", "Yes all men". All of this. This is popular. This is a trend. And it's unacceptable. Because frankly, it's basically bullying someone into a corner. Personally? I've been told by a few companies that are scared of social justice warriors and the online hate mob, that their company is actively not hiring white individuals. And I wish, REALLY WISH, I was making that up.

Is it any wonder, that people who go to the internet as an escape end up in a low point in their lives and then decide to do something awful? And it's the same with school shootings too. The news puts out, the name, ethnicity, how tall they are, and their entire life story, for weeks at a time. And now for much longer, because they support the desire to ban guns. So they need these things to happen more often. So the glorify the shooter, and keep talking about him/them for months. But here is where the story gets fun.

Columbine's shooting, was actually supposed to be a bombing. The kids who did it? Not the "school losers" the media talked about. The trench coat club? They were not even apart of it. More info on that here. As well as other places on Google.

More or less This video covers what the media got wrong in their rush to cover everything. What they did not intend on, was making these two boys heros to those bullied in school. Mostly boys, who are torn down and told they aren't enough, that they don't matter, they are isolated, bullied, harassed. So they look for someone who stood up to their bullies. What they were given, was a sociopath who manipulated a suicidal boy into helping him commit mass murder. Almost all of MSM were quick to say they were bullied into it. What's worse however, is Parkland. The Parkland 5, (the students whom MSM propped up for months) one of them came out admitting, that she bullied the guy who shot up the school. Said he was weird and that she needed to do it. This is one of the teens the media has PROPPED UP, saying we should listen to their infinite wisdom. A girl who is probably half responsible for the shooting.

Start paying attention. Start doing research. And for the love of all that is holy, STOP BULLYING PEOPLE! I don't care what your narrative is, or what it means. IE:

White people are human

Black people are human

Hispanic people are human

Gay people are human

Strait people are human

Women are human

Men are human

Stop normalizing anything to the contrary. Because when you do, you become part of the problem.

TL;DR The media only cares about themselves and clicks. They don't care who they radicalize, so long as you keep giving them traffic. Which for them is money. Do your research, look into things, and don't bully people. I'm looking at you progressives.

[alltheworldsrpg-blog]

WELCOME TO ROSWELL, ZARA RHODES!!

ADMIN CAMERON: What caught my attention about Zara was how carefully she was written, The Halogen’s past can go south very easily and you were able to handle that with grace. The plot section of your app really gives me confidence about her future growth as a character, and her dynamic with The Pulsar is everything I was looking for and some. 

You’ve been accepted as THE HALOGEN with the faceclaim of JESSICA DE GOUW. Please follow all rules and regulations as laid out by the Roswell Town Council, especially concerning any non pre-approved biologic. All UFO’s outside of city limits must be stickered or will be towed. Enjoy your stay in the first city of extraterrestrials.

OUT OF CHARACTER.

NAME/ALIAS + PRONOUNS:

Riley, he/him

AGE:

18+

TIMEZONE + ACTIVITY:

GMT. I don’t know about numbers, but I’m usually active every couple of days at least. I might not always be on tumblr because it’s blocked at work but I tend to write in notepad then post when I get home during quiet spells, and I’m off on Wednesdays and weekends.

TRIGGERS:

Removed for privacy. 

ANYTHING ELSE?:

I like sci-fi, superheroes and social justice. And I love this rp.

IN CHARACTER.

SKELETON TITLE:

The Halogen

FULL NAME:

Zara Rhodes – Zara means to blossom, I chose it because she’s only just starting to figure out who she is and developing into that person. Her motives might have been selfish and not entirely pure but she’s still growing. I chose the name Rhodes because I liked the sound of it and it summons images of loftiness and pretentiousness in my head.

GENDER + PRONOUNS:

Cisgender female, she/her

SEXUAL + ROMANTIC ORIENTATION:

Panromantic Pansexual

DATE OF BIRTH + AGE:

26 years old, July 13 2033, I chose Cancer as her star sign because they’re described as being inconsistent, difficult to predict, and seeking adventure but also security and that they keep others guessing and that’s how I picture her character.

OCCUPATION:

Law student

FACECLAIM:

Jessica De Gouw

BIOGRAPHY:

London has always been a city of immigrants, home of people from all backgrounds and walks of life, but the London Zara was born in fostered a different kind of immigration. She shared playgrounds with alien children (from the other side of the park, at her mother’s insistence), and she sat near them on the train (only when there were no other seats left, and even then her father would shield her as if she were some kind of fragile thing). From childhood, Zara knew two things; that aliens were part of life and that this was a bad thing.

She was eleven when her famous, wedding photographer father was all over the internet headlines because he’d famously refused to photograph an alien couple’s wedding. To Zara, it wasn’t such a big deal. It was his business and he should be allowed to run it the way he wanted. Her parents were business-people and it was their right to refuse those who weren’t technically human. After all, human rights laws didn’t exactly cover them. Her parents sheltered her from mixing with them as best they could, but that changed when she moved away, went to the United States for college.

Zara had lived in her dorm for only a day when her room mate casually dropped the fact they were a Centaurian in conversation. Zara was less than pleased. She made no attempt to hide her anti alien rhetoric, with slogans on shirts and posters on walls that could be classed as hate speech. She attended anti alien rallies, even tried to get them kicked out of school. She would get irritated when her room mate didn’t recognize her photographs at the campus gallery shows, even more irritated that they could hardly enjoy her work at all. After all, she was the human, and wasn’t this supposed to be all about her?

It would have been so easy to switch rooms. Her parents could even have afforded a fancy little apartment for her, and the room mate never moved either, intent on being ‘tolerant and understanding’. Zara’s motivations were less pure. She was determined to show her alien room mate a better way of life, to ‘tame’ them, and so it was almost ironic that she was the one who ended up being the student and the Centaurian the teacher. It took weeks, months, even years of debates, philosophical conversations, compassion and understanding that Zara probably didn’t deserve, but eventually it started to sink in. Aliens were a little different, but there was nothing fundamentally wrong with them. They could be friends. They could even be people you fell in love with, and boy, did Zara fall hard.

She was ashamed. She felt an intense need to make up for her actions, her blindness. Zara switched her major, choosing to pursue criminal justice as a pre-requisite for law school instead of the photography and artistic focus she’d held at the behest of her parents. Her parents didn’t take too kindly to it, especially when they discovered her reasons. She got the impression they thought she would grow out of it. But she never did. Zara used their last name to get some galleries interested in her photography and began selling it to make up for the money they were no longer so keen to send her. She even started her own online store. She wanted to be important in a different way, like her room mate was. She wanted to be an activist.

Zara never got the chance to truly share her feelings with her room mate even when graduation turned into summer turned into them renting a place together as ‘friends’. There might have been some flirting and some drunk confessions, but Zara pretends not to remember. For now. She doesn’t want to rock the boat on their living situation, and she tells herself that having recently been accepted into law school means she doesn’t have time for a relationship just yet anyway, but it’s all just an excuse. Really, she’s just waiting for the perfect moment, and she has no idea that the moment might not turn out to be perfect after all. Because the world isn’t perfect. In fact, it’s pretty broken, and Zara has yet to see just how deep the cracks go.

MUSING + HEAD-CANONS.

HEAD-CANONS:

I imagine Zara to be kind of like that activist with the best of intentions but she’s still learning. She’s come from a place of privilege with well-off human parents, upper middle class, white, and for most of her life she didn’t acknowledge or think about that. She’s only just starting out on this new journey. She’s growing as a person but she’s still in that sort of awkward stage where she doesn’t know when to talk and when to listen, and she also kind of turns her activism into a display, with social media posts etc.

Is a total pinterest ho and she loves those studyspo style pics.

Kind of a hipster.

But good intentions and has a lot of room for affection in her heart, even if it’s currently misplaced.

Zara was loved and a little spoiled as a kid. She wasn’t raised to have responsibility. She wasn’t punished for messing up and she didn’t have many rules. Who she is now is a result of the effect this can have on a child and their development so that its even affecting them as an adult in their mid 20s. Responsibility is starting to catch up with her and I find that a fascinating theme to explore. You can’t go through life as a free spirit not caring about anything in the long term, because then when you care about something completely, like Zara does now with Pulsar, then it’s kind of like a sensory overload that she doesn’t know how to handle, and now that she’s learning, for lack of a better term, social justice, she’s sort of diving in at the deep end and doesn’t really realise it takes time to be a good ally.

Her favourite color is blue, but she also likes blacks and greys. She likes pastel colors and a soothing aesthetic from her surroundings. She likes things to be neat and in order.

She still keeps up with photography, but primarily as a hobby. Selling her photos sometimes earns her a bit of pocket money and she still has her online store, but she doesn’t do much new photography for profit any more. Saying that, she’s happy to lend a hand and take snaps for the student paper or websites at local protests etc.

PLOTS + CONNECTIONS:

I want to explore the balance between responsibility and the impulsive artistic nature she has. She’s creative and intellectual, she believes so deeply in fate and chances, in a way that could something her mind used in the past to absolve her of her responsibility. She goes where her heart and impulse tells her which can be a dangerous way to live and that I feel has kind of come back to bite her now that she’s only just learning how to be a responsible adult.

The problem with being ruled by your heart and not your head is that it can get you in trouble, as you’re living a life without balance. If she’s taking her balance and the idea of morality from Pulsar that means it could be seen as a co-dependent relationship, which isn’t healthy either, but there’s also something about her and Pulsar that’s very pure and real too. Basically she’s a mess of contradictions. I love when characters have such realistic faults and they’re all rounded characters. She’s a free spirit and yet also has this dark side to her that’s capable of jealousy and insecurity and bitterness. It just feels like the realistic faults and struggles real people have, so I want to explore those.

Right now she doesn’t have any awareness of the fact Pulsar doesn’t feel the same way about her. She’s got a kind of confidence and sort of detachment from reality that she hasn’t picked up on any subtle cues that might have been dropped, but also the skeleton implies Pulsar might be leading her on a bit, which gives a few various avenues to explore when Zara actually finds out about it. I can see her reacting in a few different ways. She’s probably initially going to be pretty angry and upset. She’s going to be jealous of anyone Pulsar might be spending time with, but she doesn’t want to push the issue so she would instead focus on being angry that Pulsar wasn’t honest with her from the beginning.

I think it’s important not to fall into the trope of “I became a better person for you, so you owe me your love” especially as in this situation, Zara is sort of in the position of the oppressor, but I do think it might take her a bit of time to accept the reality of the situation because she’s so used to people fawning over her and thinking she’s fantastic. I want to try and find a balance between her disappointment and her spoiled attitude but also the fact she does respect Pulsar as a person and their free will.

I’d like to see her be exposed to some of the resistance people and be a little shocked and have her eyes opened about what a different form of activism looks like. It can be dark and gritty. It isn’t always sitting in a classroom learning about alien rights laws and spouting philosophy.

I’d also like her to come into contact with the anti alien people who she used to pal around with and who she turned her back on when she started listening to Pulsar and fell in love.

Those are the sort of connections I can see her building too. She’s kind of in an interesting position being that she’s touched on and has the ability to be part of both worlds. She tries to stay clear of the anti alien people now, but it would be interesting for some of them to try and tempt her back in, and especially if they do it to sort of take advantage of her being upset after she learns about Pulsar not reciprocating her feelings. Contrast to that, the types of aliens or alien supporters who use a more radical form of approach than Pulsar does I’d love to see her interact with and see how she responds to that.

WRITING SAMPLE:

Removed for privacy.

ETC:

https://ru.pinterest.com/mccluskry/zara/  Pinterest for her

http://vigilantwriter.tumblr.com/tagged/insp%3A-zara and my muse tag for her including some edits (its a queue so the tag will get bigger as my queue posts them)

[mysmespoo-blog]

Admin kayleigh! Can you write a crack headcanon? Rfa+saeran walk in on mc stupidly dancing in her room to "someBODY ONCE TOLD ME THE WORLD IS GONNA ROLL ME" and she gets embarrassed and punches them on the face and the rest is up to you!!!

HOO BOY You not only specifically asked for me to do this, you even chose my favorite crack song, who are you dear anon and can we be friends ^^ 

Zen: 

he had peaked his head into your room after knocking and you didn’t answer

he heard the music but couldn’t make out the words 

until he opened the door

there you were, hair brush in hand, belting out to a song from…shrek

‘someBODY ONCE TOLE ME THE WORL- AH!’

Zen jumped from your scream as you jumped at the sight of your boyfriend in the doorway

‘you looked so cute MC aww’

‘gET OUT’

he’d come back in a few hours to make sure the two of you were okay

he didn’t want to bother you while you were so obviously upset

Yoosung: 

he had been playing LOLOL so he wasn’t paying attention to the music coming from the bedroom

until the game ended 

so he followed the sound to find you. smiling brightly when he saw you dancing around the room

you ended up screaming and throwing your hairbrush at him

he shrieked and darted out of the room. returning minutes later with a cookie sheet as a shield

‘are you mad at me MC?’

ohmygod the cutie thinking its his fault

 you’d have to explain you were just surprised and embarrassed. you didn’t mean to throw it

Jaehee: 

she just needed her pen

all she wanted was the stupid pen

how was she supposed to know you would be doing that

you were in a big t shirt, no pants, and sunglasses on

standing on the bed

singing badly along to the shrek soundtrack

in her defense, it was not her fault she caught you in such an embarrassing position

she had knocked

but when you fell off the bed in surprise, she did feel kind of bad

until you shoved her away (gently mind you) when she tried to help you up

and she hit her elbow on the bed post

you apologized for like twenty minutes straight

she forgave you after the first im sorry

Saeyoung: 

this boy

it was no accident that he walked into your shrek dance party

he heard the music from his computer room

and burst into your room singing along

you nearly peed your pants

once the initial shock wore off though, you pulled him towards you 

and the two of you belted out the lyrics to each other

even though it was not a love song, or erotic in the least

somehow Saeyoung managed to get the two of you in a rather compromising position

and he was still singing along

Jumin:

he just wanted to check in on you and Elizabeth 3rd during his lunch break

he didn’t plan on walking in on you holding Elizabeth above your head singing to her

he watched silently for a few seconds as you lowered the cat and then jumped onto the sofa, starting to scream along 

your eyes locked with his ‘someBOD-y’ oh shit

‘is this a commoner thing?’

“um….yes?”

‘ i want to try it when i come back home, you seemed to be enjoying yourself’

ohmygodjuminjustgobeforeidieofembarrasment

he would place a kiss on the top of your head, pat Elizabeth then head back to work

Saeran:

‘She’s just like Saeyoung’ was all he could think when he saw you

you were making an absolute fool of yourself in his opinion

but you still looked cute

you had on his tank top and choker 

which he had to admit was extremely hot on you

and you were shaking what looked like salt and pepper shakers

not even in time with the music

it made no sense to him, but most of what you did he couldn’t understand

like why you chucked the shakers at him when you saw him

‘what the hell MC?’

“im so sorry you scared me!”

cue an eye roll

next thing you know he has you against the wall

‘i scared you?’

you nodded slowly, your eyes wide

he would smirk slightly, shake his head and kiss the tip of your nose

‘you’re a fucking dork, throw something heavier next time if you plan on defending yourself from someone scary’ he explained when you just blinked in surprise

“you’re not scary, you just caught me off guard, calm down edge lord”

Saeyoung put his headphones on when he heard the familiar shriek you let out before Saeran and you usually… well you know

-Admin!Kayleigh

[chvrchesrp]

This is more like a “meta Apocrypha”—it is meant to help understand the philosophy and perspective of our game and its Churches. The Admin team thought it might be helpful for me to share, so, here it is! I just didn’t have an appropriate header image for ‘the CHVRCHES concept origin story in May’s brain,’ haha. So this might get a skosh personal.

When we opened CHVRCHES, responses from the community were predominantly great. However, there were a few folks—people I respected—who had questions for me along the lines of “what about other religions?” and “the religious aspect makes me feel uncomfortable?” and I think, seven months in (haha), it’s a good time to talk about that a little bit. 

The first question has earned a brief Forward on out plot page: all pantheons are canon here. Greek gods? Real. Norse gods? Real. They won’t be appearing here, nor will our pantheon folks have interacted with them much, but they would know of their existence. Kind of like, Heaven and Olympus can both exist, but Olympians don’t go to Heaven. Not much of cross-pollination. Because belief is precious, there’s a wariness between pantheons.

In this verse, belief gives power. Belief doesn’t create these gods, but it feeds them. Their strength—though not their existence—relies on how many people believe in them. That is why the foundation of ours, around loss of belief due to humanity expanding belief into other pantheons and atheism, lands us in the power struggle our story’s pantheon is in. We are dealing in the Christian pantheon’s response to this phenomena in current modern society.

I can only speak for myself and my views, having been raised Roman Catholic, and I understand other folks are entitled to their own views. I believe that, if you’re Christian, you can believe there is only One God and he is Your God. Even if other ‘gods’ exist, in that perspective, they wouldn’t be gods—they’d be mythology, or spirits, or any number of things they are called by Christians today. We are an “angels and demons” roleplay, more than anything.

With that aside, the next thing that tends to comes up is: isn’t this a little too close for comfort, drawing from the Bible as a text? 

And to that, I say, I don’t believe so. For 2 major reasons—

1) Dogma, Supernatural, Lucifer, Preacher, and so forth... all of these exist. They incorporate biblical stories and scripture, show portrayals of biblical characters and people. A ton of songs explore biblical canon. Christianity is the dominant religion in much of the world, and certainly in the United States, where this verse is set. It is also an open religion that actively converts, asking people to engage with and believe in it. Exploring the stories between the lines seems a natural progression. People do this regardless of whether or not its an online writing game. If these other mediums are generally accepted, I haven’t yet been presented with a reason CHVRCHES should be deemed different.

2) Predominantly, the people I’ve spoken to have spoken of a discomfort they can’t quite name. I don’t know if this is true for them, but I imagine it’s a similar feeling to the one minority religion practitioners feel—like pagans, hellenics, and heathens—when engaging with other media portraying witches, Greek gods, and Norse gods and practices, respectively. There is certainly a dissonance when you first experience your beliefs as perceived by someone outside your own familiar religious group. I think this discomfort may stem from not being used to others exploring your religion as mythology, the way our culture—and Christianity— treats other religions. 

I wanted to incorporate the text in order to revive and honour it in a different way. Christianity is the dominant religion here. As I type this, the line of the separation between Church and State is thinning, and the aspect of the church that is wielding political power is literally one that wants to kill me (for being a woman, queer, disabled, chronically ill, et cetera—and those like me, for being those things and more). That church isn’t the interpretation of Christianity that I grew up on. Granted, I grew up Roman Catholic in New York, so take that how you will, but I wasn’t kicked out of my Church for being gay, nor did I have to undergo conversion therapy. I know that isn’t true everywhere.

My intention isn’t blasphemy any more than my existence is blasphemy.

Understandably, belief among my generation and those like me is waning. That is part of what inspired me to create this verse. A future many articles have written about: what happens when the younger generation finds other faiths, becomes secular or atheist or spiritual, empties out the coiffers and pews of standardized churches? That’s the world I created: one where all the churches we are already familiar with are small, quiet, defunct, fringe. As a foil, I kept the Roman Catholic Church with Pope Francis as canon, as a bastion of the old era in this new society and verse I conceived. My intention was to take biblical text and re-consider it, wonder:

What might it look like if we focused on the parts that were positive and not alienating? What if, for all the cherry-picking held against us, we could cherry-pick back in support of ourselves?

After all, every sect of Christianity began with a man and some interpretation of the text. This is me, creating fictional sects, with my interpretation. All churches started somewhere. Protestantism wasn’t a new stone tablet from God: it was Martin Luther with 95 Theses nailed to a church. These are mine. I’m not trying to make a revolution, I’m just trying to offer an alternative vision. It can’t happen in the real world, but in our escapist verse here, it was a thought process I wanted to see come to fruition. The possibility of a Church where the emphasis wasn’t on judging your identity, but instead focused on what kind of person you were; what you did and how you perceived the world around you. 

And so, the Church of Saints isn’t “Christianity” and the Church of Sinners isn’t “Satanism” nor “Luciferianism.” It’s important to not perceive of the Saints as you would our current-day churches and assume that the Sinners are ‘the individuals,’ a way out of current dogma, a different perspective catering to outcasts. The thing is that they’re both different perspectives from what we’re familiar with because their fundamental construct is from not-now. These are Churches who managed to capture the hearts and minds of a generation that wanted to leave the pantheon altogether. Out of a failing ideology, both Churches emerged and thrived to become the top Christian sects, succeeding where what we are currently familiar with in our world waned.

In a way, both Churches are the churches of outcasts, created in safety until the minority became a majority. That is how Christianity thrived, in this verse. That’s how you wind up with a bisexual, multiracial man who is a former-pirate heading the Saints—and now a biracial, asexual lesbian who questions everything, a daughter of an immigrant pragmatist. That’s how you wind up with a Vice heading up the Church of Sinners who conceived of the idea after bonding with a demon, carving her own path by the skin of her teeth and the dirt under her nails, not accepting ambition as ugly—traits utterly unbecoming of a woman, in theory. Both of these Churches are the song of the unsung, singing themselves into a better tomorrow.

“We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.”

That’s why that’s #9 on both of the Church’s 9 Beliefs.

The Churches were based on two basic ideas: Saints believe you make the world better by caring for self and others. Not to a fault, not to self-sacrifice and do only good and be perfect and conform to the hive mind—no. But with self-care and good boundaries and consideration for one’s own self and others. Sinners believe you make the world better by bettering yourself first. Kind of like an emotional trickle-down, the concept is that if I am the best me, and others are the best them, then we will have the best world. It’s self-focused and charges oneself with the responsibility—and consequence—of choice; less considerate, it asks you to do for you before anyone else. Both Churches try to create the best people as individuals, encourage their individuality, and aim to make the best world.

Both Churches’ views are flawed, of course.

That’s the point: it has to be that way, in order for a “real” Church to be “living, breathing, and responsive” to its congregation in our verse. These Churches are more attentive than what most of us have experienced in our lives, both Churches more interested in experiences as ‘mass’ rather than broadcast-sermons. It’s about the nuance of believing, existing, and moving through a text these muses thought failed them and breathing new life into it, making it work for each of them. Each Church is meant to make room for each believer. One believer might be startlingly different from the next, each believer might have their own individual interpretations of the Bible. 

So with that perspective, I invite you to re-imagine your muse’s relationship with the Church they chose. Try to let fall away the projections and ideas of how we feel about the churches in our world, be those feelings positive or negative or neutral, and try to perceive a world in which these Churches are familiar, personal, and the hope of both their people and their God.

[kpopviralblog]

Netizens Attack BTS Jungkook for Handpicking His Own Gifts From Fansites Calling Him a Beggar & Spoiled. But Fans Unveil the Truth.

Netizens are currently attacking Jungkook for “Handpicking” his own gifts from fansites, calling him terrible and spoiled and similar things.

Here’s the post:

I considered a lot for the gift. I had a list and Jungkook was at overseas for a few days. I wanted to give him something that he needed. It's a laptop for gaming and it can run Overwatch(?) with its fast speed. I chose the laptop model by Jungkook's own opinion.

1. [+859, -492] Is he a beggar or what? Wow.

2. [+817, -366] Hul, the fact that a fansite master sends a list and he chooses from them is more shocking... It's so blunt... Am I the only one who's shocked? I've never seen an idol who does this. I'm serious. 3. [+725, -377] He could buy them on his own. 4. [+369, -62] Fans keep shielding him by saying that it's done by the company's feedback but the fact that he tells his company what he wants to get is wrong enough ㅋㅋㅋㅋ It's a true ATM work. He could at least pretend to say that he doesn't want gifts ㅋㅋㅋㅋ Instead, he chooses specific products. Is he a beggar? 5. [+251, -35] Huh, he has enough money to buy them on his own. Some celebrities don't mention about it at all and their companies reject gifts so that they wouldn't pressure the fans. I guess it's the fans' choice but it's a bit... iffy. 6. [+241, -130] These are the facts. Don't be fooled by the trolls. 

"When it's his birthday, the fansite masters send the company a list of gifts and he chooses the specific colors and models only. It's already discussed between the company and the fansite masters." 7. [+207, -43] Why is no one demanding the OP to move to Fan Talk when it's about an idol? ㅋㅋㅋㅋ Double standards, no one cares because it's a bashing post~ 8. [+183, -201] He's not contacting the fansite masters personally ㅋㅋ It's the company that connects them. Fansite masters want to give the members the exact models, so they communicate through the company first. If it's too expensive, the company stops them in advance.

Translation: KPKF Source: PANN

Now fans have revealed what the truth is, after all the negatives things said against BTS and Jungkook.

Here’s the post:

Title: I'm so mad at those stupid fansite masters

If you had been a fan for awhile, you all know that you need to inquire their company or fan manager before sending in your support, right?Do you really think fansite masters can find the sizes of their idols on their own when they send them supports like shoes or pants? ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ fans contact the company/fan manager asking the idol's clothes/shoe sizes before sending their gifts and they can't just leave all those gifts in front of the company whenever they like so they need to contact the company and schedule when they will leave the gifts. When fansite masters wanted to send supports for Taetae during Hwarang, BigHit didn't read their email so the fansite masters couldn't plan a date to drop the gifts. So these fansite masters said they sent these gifts together with his birthday supportㅋㅋThis is how everything works but that attention seeking fansite masters ㅋㅋ Did they really had to use such expressions? Their tweets sound like as if they had personally met with BTS and the members had picked their own gifts and they're like "I hope you will use it well cos you picked it" ... ㅋㅋㅋ seriously I've never seen any fansite master like them in my fan life. Someone spread this message on a site I often visit and the users actually criticized these fansite masters. Even fans from other fandoms are dumbfounded. All fans ask the company/fan manager before sending in their support and these non BTS fans are like I've never seen fansite masters using such expression ㅋㅋ those 4 fansite masters (ㅅㅋㅍㄹㅇ, ㅌㅁㅇㄷㄹ, ㅅㄴㅇㅍㅊ, ㅁㅇㄷ1997), we should really put them aside. Response +8 -1 BTS is slandered again for no good reason.. ㅠㅠ I feel bad for them... Original post here

Response +894 -149 1. Whenever someone makes a compliment post about BTS, it gets deleted right away and we have slandering posts from No. 1 to 10 in the next day's Selected Talk Ranking. PANN is filled with haters and the admin dislikes BTS +271 -11 ㄴ Admin (shaking with anger); +13 -0 ㄴ Admin is f*cking hilarious. They delete the good posts in the speed of light ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ but the slandering posts stay here for a f*cking long time +20 -0 ㄴ I don't think it's the admin's fault. Don't you think we just have too many crazy users who report these posts just because they don't like them? +3 -2 ㄴ to the previous commenter, this doesn't work for slandering posts. We've tried mass reporting slandering posts but they don't go down +9 -0 2. I don't know how things really work because I'm a muggle but I just feel like they're attacking BTS again because this looks like a good chance for them to... I feel bad.. +247 -15 ㄴreal muggles don't call themselves muggles. how do we always have best comments left by muggles under BTS posts?? +4 -29 ㄴ previous commenter sounds rude. I guess the commenter is calling him/herself a muggle because s/he is oneㅋㅋ You guys don't mind when people leave comments like "hey I'm a muggle but I like this group~" under positive posts about other groups but you just can't stand this happening to BTS. You're a moron too +29 -2 ㄴ (commenter 2) I like many girl and boy groups so I call myself a muggle and leave comments like this? Don't try to attack me just because the top comments are positive... +24 -0 ㄴ I think (commenter 2) is a multifan or ARMY and not a muggle. seriously muggles aren't interested in fanwars or other groups ㅋㅋㅋ Do you only feel bad to BTS? Every group is same +0 -22 ㄴ previous commenter, you idiot commenter 2 already left a comment. S/he likes many girl/boy groups so s/he is a multifan and not a muggle +15 -0 ㄴ previous, previous commenter, why do you generalize that all muggles aren't interested in idols? I'm muggle but I like all groups +21 -0 3. But isn't that just how fans send their support all the time? Even my idol turns on V APP on his/her birthdays with the support gifts displaying in the practice room and they open the boxes with the members +237 -84 4. People are taking this matter seriously because it's BTS ㅋㅋ This is just how supports work +69 -2 5. The haters are still fussing even when they know this is how you send supports +60 -2 6. I mean let's think about how these fansite masters are earning. They monetize on Youtube by uploading videos of their idols and sell products like keyrings, photocards, photobook, open photo exhibition, slogan, clothes, cover, dolls, etc to make a profit. You think fans aren't buying from them, right? But fans still buy from them and that is how these fansite masters send supports and use the money for their own use. Don't you try to blame this on the singers. If all companies start reporting portrait rights and commercial exploitations there is no single fansite master who can escape. They use their singers to earn a profit and that is why they get caught taking photos of 2 or 3 different idols. Please don't try to create issues +55 -2 7. 810 people please apologize ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ you guys only run away when you have to apologize +52 -3 8. Doesn't this prove it's a tough job to be an ARMY? ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ negative posts appear all the time -> ARMYs explain -> OP of the negative post goes "I don't know~" and this keeps on repeating ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ seriously, ARMYs stay strong +51 -3 9. I couldn't leave a comment under that post because I was afraid I'd be attacked with downvotes but even my idol accepts all gifts... these fansite masters aren't minors and they're not using their own money. They earn a profit using idol's faces and they send them supports so what's wrong with that? it's not like the singers are asking them to buy them this and that.. I don't see the problem. When I read that post I thought, "should my idol be criticized too for accepting gifts?" +42 -2 10. People told the haters to change their slandering pattern and they brought a reaaaaallly creative one to slander them ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ +39 -2

Translation/Credit:  Source: PANN