#me? having a crush on a puppet? its more likely than you think

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

now this one was an absolute Blast to do!

outfit is once again from @chocolategothwolfhorse, whose ask is full of bangers

[kookslastbutton]

Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter two

✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love

word count: 6.1k+

warnings: This chapter in particular is written from Yoongi's perspective, oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of body shaming by Hybe executive, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, light fighting between members (literally crack), Namjoon has a little crush, Oc being a total boss at work bc she is amazing at her job, and cute & meaningful Yoon and OC interactions that make them finally start bonding (a little flirty too, hehe) 😉

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: CHAPTR TWO IS HERE! GOD...the slow burn exists outside the series too with me not updating for two months. I'm sorry guys but TYSM for your patience! I'm VERY excited to release this chapter bc I think Yoon & Oc are super cute, hehe. Okay anyway, this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

Series Masterlist | next chapter >>

Yoongi stands with his hands placed loosely on his hip, chest heaving as he attempts to catch his breath. The seven of them had been practicing choreography for their new RUN BTS song nonstop when Jimin called for a much-needed, fifteen-minute break. There’s a part of him that’s thanking the younger for it and another that’s wishing he hadn’t, as every moment left alone with his thoughts is spent decoding his last encounter with you at the cafeteria.

Why had you made such a beeline for the exit the moment he was waved over by his member?

You also completely ignored his attempts to greet you on your way out. He only stopped by the cafeteria to slip an orange in his pocket before returning to his studio. He didn’t mean to intrude or incite that you had to leave with his sudden presence.

Taehyung assured him that you merely left to tend to work matters, which he’d typically sum as hyper-fixation with one’s work as he’s prone to do the same, but this felt different at its core. Your behavior seemed more intentional than that. The last thing he wants to do is misread the whole situation, but he must’ve done or said something to cause your uneasiness.

“Hyung, how did the album meeting go this morning?” A clear voice comes from Yoongi's left as his fellow band member, Namjoon, strides next to him, water bottle clenched in his fist. Like himself, large droplets of sweat dots around the man’s brow. The minor interruption shakes Yoongi out of his slightly dazed state.

“Went well.” He takes a big swish of his own water before screwing the cap back on. “We reviewed everything in three hours and the album looks better than I anticipated. There are a couple of promotional strategies that still need finalizing, but I’m pretty confident about it overall.”

“That’s great, man. __-nim’s been doing good work with TXT for the last few years, so she’s definitely suited for the job. I thought about requesting her help to promote Indigo but the timing of it all didn’t work.” Namjoon’s voice drops an octave at the last part, as if remorseful for more than a missed professional opportunity.

“Ah, maybe your next album hyung,” Jimin suddenly chimes in, slapping the taller man on the shoulder from the side. “I have a feeling you and __-nim would work well together. Think about it, you’re both natural born leaders and you’re smart too. I bet __ -nim has as high of an IQ as you.”

Namjoon’s cheeks flush with the faintest tint of rose as Jimin flashes a knowingly cheeky grin. Yoongi, of course, witnesses the entire exchange, the slightest part of him feeling uprooted by the thought of his band member and new marketing manager suddenly hitting it off. He decides not to comment on the matter, choosing to remain in ignorance instead. This is all speculation, right?

Now that they’re all on the subject of his album though, it gets him thinking that maybe he’s been too narrow viewed regarding the reason for your off putting behavior at lunch.

D-Day’s release has become a consuming priority lately, with everyone involved worked to the bone. Aside from himself, you’ve been bearing the brunt of it. He’s appreciative of course, considering the album holds a deep sense of meaning to him, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it to be perfect. A little pushback during the first proposal is natural, yet he did get more resistant toward ideas during this morning’s meeting than anticipated. Perhaps some of his nitpicking was unnecessary, adding to your already heavy load.

Yoongi’s head feels worse the longer he entertains the possibility. He doesn’t want to make the first time working together a complete whirlwind, especially this early. A strong, healthy partnership starts with trust, safety, and mutual respect. The same philosophy can be applied to relationships of varying natures. That reminds him—since when did Taehyung and you become so close? He’s been ruminating over it all afternoon, like a jigsaw puzzle he can’t solve.

It’s odd how little he knows.

“I heard someone mention __-nim over here. I want in.” A small grumble leaves Yoongi’s lips as Jungkook pushes next to him, displeased by how tiny his space bubble has gotten due to the huddle his members have formed around him. Just why the hell is everyone so interested in his new marketing director? That's what he wants to know.

“Can you introduce me to her sometime hyung?" Jungkook pleads. "I’m thinking about releasing an album in the next year and it’d be great if you could hook us up…yknow?”

Oh, Yoongi knows. He knows exactly what this young buck is insinuating, but it isn’t mating season yet and even if it were he will do no such thing as to “hook them up”. Besides, his conscience tells him that you wouldn't be interested in the company of a younger man anyway—not that your dating life is any of his business or anything.

“Get in line Jungkookie, behind Namjoon. He needs her for his album first.” Jimin squeezes down on Namjoon’s muscular shoulders with both hands, shaking him just enough to hype him up. His hands are removed seconds later when he’s told to knock it off.

“That’s enough about this, okay? I’m pretty sure Yoongi-hyung is the only one who actually needs __-nim right now because, in case you dumbasses have forgotten, D-Day is set to release in April,” Namjoon scolds the two with a commanding tone. Jungkook, per usual, remains persistent in his original request and keeps his full attention on Yoongi.

“Anyway hyung, as I was saying, I know your album takes priority so I’m in no hurry to meet her. I can be pretty patient as you know-“

“Heh, that’s a lie.”

“Shove it Jimin, no one’s talking to you.” Jungkook’s eyebrows scrunch together as Jimin snorts helplessly next to Namjoon.

“You shove it Kook,” Jimin counters. “And stop trying to date __-nim! Find your own woman!”

“I’m not trying to date her! She's my noona for gods sake! Do you think I’m oblivious to how the public reacts to idols dating? Also, __-nim is a Hybe employee, not an idol. I can only imagine the type of scandal the media would spin it as.”

“Right, we all know you actually just want to take her to your bed instead,” Jimin interrupts for the umpteenth time. “Our handsome leader, on the other hand, is interested in her professional abilities. We can learn a lot from him.”

“Why are you always trying to start a fight with me Jimin? Is it because I can take you, now that I've been building up more muscle?” Jungkook’s accusations earn him nothing more than a sea of eye-rolls until Jimin lunges himself towards him, puffing out his chest the best he can to size him up.

Namjoon rubs his face with a hand, a clear visual display of his exhaustion. He’s been moderating these stupid squabbles for nine years now. “Alright very mature, biggest boy band in the world and this is what it’s come to? Amazing, congrats to everyone for winning the award for most-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Seokjin interjects, effortlessly shouting over everyone while waving his hands. “My brothers…why are we fighting over here like a couple of peacocks? We are all beautiful in our own, individual ways. Mine, for example, is my handsome face.”

“For the love of god hyung, we’re trying to settle something. Go take your inspirational pep talk elsewhere!” Jungkook bends his knees, swooping down to throw Jimin over his shoulder but he misses when the man starts tickling him ruthlessly.

“St-ah-stop it Jimin!"

“You stop it, you frickin’ brat! Trying to take advantage of our hyungs for your own selfish gain.” Jimin then slaps Jungkook on the ass which does not go unappreciated as Hoseok cackles from the other side of the room. Up until this point, he’s been scrolling on his phone, completely unbothered by the chaos. As Hoseok nears the action, Jungkook delivers a swift kick to Jimin’s rear end.

“Ow, what the fuck Kook?!” Jimin tries soothing the sting by massaging it with his hands. “You little prick!”

“Oh come on, I barely hit you. Gaining sympathy points won’t help this time, plus I see you trying to hide a grin. You think this shit is funny. You’re sick you know that?”

Jimin makes a move to return the kick to his youngest member but ends up hitting a far taller, and leaner subject instead. Taehyung, who just returned from the bathroom, throws a hand over his abdomen and grunts from the sudden impact.

“What is—shit Jimin that really hurt!” Taehyung’s baritone voice echoes off the walls as he winces from the pain. He takes a few deep breaths, then viciously eyes the two brawlers followed by the rest of the room. “What the hell is going on? I heard you all talking about __-nim from the hallway. Yoongi-hyung here is trying to kick off his album and tour, which we are supposed to be celebrating over drinks this Friday, but here you are arguing with each other and who has the biggest dick. Well, you can all put it away because as __-nim’s best friend, and number one wingman, only I’m allowed to set her up with someone and it won’t be with any of you! Sorry hyung…” he looks at Namjoon who appears to have brushed the comment off.

As soon as Taehyung ceases his mini-speech, eery silence sets in. Hoseok is the first to dare say a word.

“Uh, so what’s this about being her best friend Tae?”

“Yeah, I had no idea either.” Jimin quirks his head to the side, awaiting the details.

“Same,” Namjoon adds in a short breath.

“What happened to us, man?” Jungkook pouts at Taehyung, a total 180 from moments ago when he was in an unsolicited sparring match with Jimin. “You used to share everything with me. Now you’re holding out on me. Since when did you and __-nim start hanging out?”

Yoongi’s ears perk up for the first time since all the commotion began, curious to hear Taehyung’s response. He only recently discovered the blossoming friendship hours ago and even then, it was a brief inside look.

“I didn’t think to mention it but yeah, we started talking since her first day at Hybe. I bumped into her on the way into work, early morning for both of us. I expected her to be a bit on the reserved side, considering she was a new hire, but she was quite friendly. The more we talked, the more I felt like I knew her as if a childhood best friend I’d reconnected with.” Pausing, he wets his lips before continuing. “We share a lot of our meals together now, like our lunches during the weekday. Her food tastes amazing by the way. I think she missed her calling as a chef but it’s more than food— it’s a love language, a labor of love.”

“Wow, you two sure are connected,” Hoseok speaks first again, seeing the rest of his members working to process the new bit of info.

“Platonically, yes.”

“This’ll be good for Yoongi-hyung and his album then! No bad blood exists here!” Hoseok shifts his gaze between Taehyung and Yoongi, pleased with the outcome. The older of the two remains speechless, yet it’s far from a dazed expression. Yoongi is instead deep in thought, the wheels turning in his head.

So maybe it’s true that birds of a feather flock together, he hums to himself. The two of you seem to be social butterflies with a vase full of commonalities. He, on the other hand, prefers his solitude. That’s not to say he’s a hermit or anything though. Hybe hosts a company-wide New Year’s Eve party every single year and he’s made his best effort to attend them all. He mainly mingles with his members, but he still makes sure to small talk with other coworkers. Come to think of it, did he even see you at last year’s New Year’s Eve party?

He can’t remember much from the night except Seokjin scolding him for not wishing him a happy birthday the minute the clock struck midnight. He was a bit tipsy at that point. Taehyung disappeared soon after to make his usual rounds, stopping to chat with everyone in his path. Maybe he took off to talk to you during that time.

Okay, he really needs to stop thinking about you.

"Just to confirm, is everyone still on for Friday night to celebrate D-Day?" Jimin pipes. "I booked us a good place to have some food and drinks.

Taehyung nods, "I am, as long as it's not the same place we saw our CFO and his much younger date feeding each other. I couldn't eat for the rest of that night."

Jungkook fakes a gag before replying. "I'm sorry but does anyone know how is he still working here? Guy creeps me out."

"I swear, I couldn't agree more. Just yesterday he made an egregiously body-shaming comment toward __-nim to someone else on the board. She kept a brave front when she told me, but I'm damn tempted to get him removed from his position myself!" Taehyung's nostrils flare as he shares his frustration, fingers digging into his hips.

Yoongi takes a final chug of his water before abruptly tossing the bottle on the floor. A sharp crack resounds through the space, instantly commanding the authority of the room. “Fifteen minutes is over,” he gruffs. “It might be twenty minutes with all the bickering earlier. We don't have time to be talking about this anymore.”

“Come on now," Hoseok says. "Didn't you hear what Taehyung said? Our CFO really is a class-A jerk. I feel so bad that __-nim has to put up with his bullshit, she doesn't deserve it." His eyes frantically search the room, hoping to rally support.

"Don't worry about that asshole," Yoongi assures, "I'll handle it." He strides over to his choreographed position on the dance floor as if a leader in his own right, the rest of the members following in his steps.

"Just don't kill him, hyung," Namjoon says, resting a hand on the older's shoulder from behind. Yoongi merely snorts lightly in reply.

Yoongi is dead tired, his feet feeling heavier the minute he stands from his studio chair. He could have left hours ago, but here it is nearly 9:30 at night, and he's only just leaving the office.

As he shuffles down the hallway towards the elevator, he notices the eerie silence. It's thick, almost palpable. There's not a soul left in the building this late at night. When the elevator doors open, he leans casually against the metal rail, closes his eyes, and mentally retraces his day.

Overall, it was a decent day, he thinks, productive at best. Skipping dinner to work on his album tracks was an easy decision, but he might be paying for it now given the intense growling of his stomach. Despite his songs being considered perfect by his members, he can't help but tweak each one a final time. It's as if his gut tells him there's still a piece missing from the whole.

All at once, the elevator comes to a sudden stop. Yoongi's eyes shoot open, anticipation flooding his senses. Is someone still here? He listens intently, straining to hear any sound over the faint hum of the elevator. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, the elevator doors slide open to reveal an empty, dimly lit hallway. It's the 16th floor. He hesitates for a second, peering into the shadows, but there’s no sign of anyone. Strange.

Just as the elevator doors begin to close, Yoongi hears a distant, unmistakable voice. "Please hold the door!" you plead, your voice strained with urgency. He responds immediately, stretching out an arm to block the door. "Thank you so much," you say, slipping in beside him, your bag thrown over your shoulder.

Yoongi watches as you enter, curiosity in his eyes. It seems you were of like mind tonight, working late and likely burdened by the extra work he caused for you. The feeling of tension is as clear as it was yesterday, lingering as a reminder of the unspoken discomfort between you both.

But then again, there's that issue Taehyung mentioned, looming in his thoughts. He hadn't realized you overheard the horrendous comment his CFO made about you. No wonder you hurried away from him like a bat out of hell yesterday; you knew he knew. He wouldn't dare shine a light on the situation and risk embarrassing you further; no one needs to relive such a belittling experience. Yet, he's wrestling with the right words to say.

"Heading home, Min PD-nim?" You surprise him by speaking first, voice firm with a touch of gentleness.

Yoongi allows a faint smile to tug at the corners of his lips, hoping it'll relieve some tension. "I am, it's been quite a day. What about you?"

You nod, shifting the bag on your shoulder. "Same here. Just had to wrap up a few things before heading out."

He hesitates for a moment, noting how you speak as if it were only a few minutes past five or six in the evening. "I understand. I was working in my studio up until now. I should be back up there tomorrow too," he says, then chuckles lightly, "Sometimes I feel like I should just live up there."

You return the subtle laugh and smile softly at him, your light brown eyes catching his dark ones. It feels like the same prolonged gaze you shared upon first meeting, yet now, it's somehow become easier; perhaps a hint of familiarity.

"By the way," he continues, seizing the opportunity, "feel free to call me Yoongi-ssi. I'm not that formal in case you didn't know." He playfully gestures to his casual attire; tan cargo pants, grey plaid button-down, and sneakers.

You seem hesitant towards the request at first, evident from your delayed response. "Are you sure?" you choke. "I don't want to over step my boundaries."

"There's no need to worry about that," he assures. "We're on equal level aren't we? If we're going to be working side by side for the next eight months give or take, I want us to feel comfortable with each other. Please, call me Yoongi-ssi."

"Okay, I might need some time to get used to that," you say, head nodding, "I'll try calling you Yoongi-ssi from now on."

"There's one other thing too," he pauses, "since we'll be working on D-Day's promotion from start to finish, I'll have many of my own opinions. It's a natural instinct for me, but I don't want to be a hinderance. I don't want anyone else giving you issues either, so I'd like to hear your full thoughts on matters, especially when it comes to important decisions."

"That means a lot Yoongi-ssi, thank you. I'm very grateful that you'd allow me to be a part of this and I'd very much like us to have an equal partnership. This is your album though, so I want to make sure it gets the recognition it deserves in the way you'd prefer."

Yoongi glances at the floor numbers displayed to the right of the elevator doors. Any second now and you'll reach the lobby. He wouldn't mind talking longer, but letting you both get a decent night's sleep is the far better idea at this point.

"I trust that D-Day is in the right hands with you, __ssi," he replies. "It's why I recommended that we work together to promote it in the first place. Bang PD was also confident in the idea. We don't doubt your expertise for a second." He pauses when the elevator doors slide open and allows you to be the first to exit. "Have a good night, okay?"

For the first time, you reciprocate the wish with a full, illuminating smile. It's not a professional one, Yoongi notes, its a real one—as genuine and sincere as his words. He takes it as a sign that the tides may finally be turning for the better. "You too," he hears you say before you push through the large revolving doors and step into the cool night air.

In the evenings that follow, Yoongi finds himself back in his studio as promised, a glass of whiskey in hand. He ultimately decided that if he was going to be here until all hours of the night, he might as well have a cold beverage to keep him company.

As he leans back in his chair, swirling the dark amber liquor in his glass, his mind inadvertently wanders to you. Were you downstairs again? Were you here with him? It would seem that given your unexpected late-night encounter in the elevator, the validity of the idea wouldn't be all that wild or far-fetched.

With each passing minute, as the clock inches closer to the late hours, he finds himself circling back to the same thought. It's as if the possibility of running into you has become a highlight of his night.

Just then, a deep and familiar voice interrupts. "Burning the midnight oil again, hyung?"

Startled, Yoongi looks up to see Taehyung standing in the doorway, a sympathetic smile on his face. Despite it being almost 9 at night, his younger member is nothing short of flawless in appearance.

"Yeah, working on my tracks," Yoongi replies, offering a small smile in return. "What are you doing here?"

Taehyung steps further into the room, hand tucked in his pocket. "I wanted to stay late to keep __-nim company, but I'm not sure how much longer she plans on staying tonight. I was on my way out when I figured I'd stop by to see you too."

"Well, thanks for thinking of me. Want a drink?" He offers, nodding towards the nearby whiskey bottle.

"No, thanks," Taehyung declines politely, shaking his head. "I'll let you enjoy your whiskey in peace. Although, __-nim might take you up on that same offer one of these days. She has a strong taste for it, as you do. Anyway, I'm heading out. Don't overdo it with your music, hyung, they're already perfect."

Once Taehyung leaves the studio, Yoongi's previous string of thoughts return to him tenfold.

So you really are here, he muses, and you happen to like the same throat-burning alcohol. Should he venture downstairs and offer a drink? No, that would probably be too much, and he wouldn't want to interrupt you. Maybe if Taehyung were accompanying him, but not alone; he doesn't share enough rapport with you to merit such a spontaneous drop-in yet.

No, he takes another sip of his whiskey, he'll see you tomorrow morning instead; during your morning meeting. But that gets him thinking—he's still yet to decide on whether or not he'll make an appearance on Fallon's show. He’d done it with his members numerous times, but this would be the first time doing it alone. His album would indeed benefit from the exposure, though.

"Damn it," he curses, raising from his seat. "I work my ass off. I work my ass off for it all!" He then sits back down, finishing off the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, the burn soothing his frustration momentarily. With a resigned sigh, he turns his attention back to his music. "Damn it, I guess I'll do it."

If it weren't for his phone notification reminding him of his 10 am meeting on Friday, Yoongi would have missed it entirely. Normally, he never forgets important events, but several late nights in the studio had predictably caught up with him. He feels extremely sleep-deprived today, his memory more prone to blanking than usual. Waking up with a throbbing headache at 5 am, which hasn't dimmed in the slightest, doesn’t help either. Nonetheless, with only ten minutes to spare, Yoongi has no choice but to pull himself together and head downstairs to the conference room.

"Good morning, Min PD-nim," you greet him as he walks through the door. "We're about to start."

Yoongi drags out a chair and takes a seat. You look nice today, he notes quietly to himself. He makes sure to send a small smile your way before returning the warm greeting. "Good morning __-ssi," he says. "I told you we can speak informally didn't I?"

He waits for your response, easily tuning out the startled reactions from the rest of the team. Most high-ranking officials in the organization expected to be addressed formally by those in lower positions, but here he was, openly requesting you to speak as equals. It was almost unheard of during work hours. He was Min Yoongi, after all.

"Right, of course," you reply, "You'll have to excuse me, Yoongi-ssi. It slipped my mind for a moment."

Yoongi watches as you shuffle a few papers in your hand before continuing. "To get us started, I thought we'd discuss the decision to schedule a spot on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. Will we be proceeding with this?"

"After mauling it over I think it's a good idea for the album. Do we have an idea of when this would happen?"

"Ideally after the album releases and around the time the U.S. tour begins April 26th. I say we aim for early May. Given Fallon's show's high demand, we'll need to get a jump on this as soon as we can." You shift your attention to your digital marketing and promotions team. "So-hyun, can you reach out to the producers and see what strings we can pull?"

She nods, scribbling a quick note on her writing pad. "We'll reach out today. I'll let you know as soon as we get a response."

"Excellent, thank you. I'm glad to hear you're on board with this Yoongi-ssi. It'll be a great way to promote D-Day and attract a global audience. The more smartly we utilize our resources, the better your album will be positioned in the current market." You take a brief pause to flip through your notes again. "Speaking of resources, we'll need to start booking magazine shoots and interviews. I'm proposing we run cover pages with Marie Claire Korea and Vogue Japan."

Yoongi would be taken aback by the flood of ideas and schedules you're firing at him, all within the first fifteen minutes, if he weren't already aware of your level of competency. This is exactly why he chose you, he hums to himself, your preparedness is impressive, but not surprising.

"I presume this will take place next year?" he asks. "During their spring issues?"

"Absolutely. We'll submit inquiries soon to get the ball rolling, but having the shoots completed now would be premature. Plus, it'll take some time before there are any openings with the companies. I think we should be consistent with tour dates and have Marie Claire go out in May and Vogue ready in August of next year."

"Okay, I'm fine with all that but we'll need to have something exciting released now, don't we? I know I start my weekly lives tonight, but shouldn't there be something more we can do?"

"I agree," you reply. "That's why I wanted to propose a brand new idea that came to me a couple of nights ago while I was drafting promotional content. Anytime idols release a new album or music, it gets published on YouTube, right?"

He nods, curious on where you're heading. "Right."

"Why don't we start a talk show with you as the host Yoongi-ssi? It can allow your fans to see another side of you, as well as the general public. We can invite your BTS members as guests where you can discuss music or past challenges that you've had to overcome—the choice is yours. To make it more interesting for viewers, you can have these frank conversations over a glass of whiskey or soju."

"I like the idea," he says, weighing it in his mind. "What would the timeline look like for this?"

"If we move forward with the idea, I suggest December 5th and we continue it for a max of two months. I know that only leaves us with just under two weeks to get started, but creating the set shouldn't take more an a day or a day and a half. We can also easily shoot a 30 to 60-minute video in an afternoon and publish it on YouTube the following week. Of course, a preview of the show will need to go out beforehand."

"Would we be able to invite other guests to the show? Outside of my members, I mean."

"Yes, feel free to invite whoever you'd like. We can start with the member for the first several episodes but ultimately, welcoming a variety of guests from the same or differing industries would be the goal."

"If I may." A member of the social media team suddenly joins the discussion, "I think Kim Namjoon-nim might be a good person to feature first since Indigo releases December 2nd."

Yoongi nods in agreement. "I can ask him."

"That would be fantastic, actually. If his availability is limited, we could have him guest star for the second or third episode instead," you add. "Hoseok released Jack in the Box this summer so we could have him be the first guest as well."

"Do we have a name yet?"

"Suchwita," you answer without hesitation. "It's a play on words with Daechwita."

"Suchwita..." Yoongi repeats, "Time to get drunk." He chuckles at the last few words, amusing the room, but you remain contemplative.

"How about Suchwita...time to drink with Suga, instead? It's simple and has a slight whimsical nature."

"Sure, let's use that," he answers, noticing that you've already begun jotting down the idea. "Yours is better."

Despite the adrenaline from the productive meeting with you and your team, Yoongi still feels the weight of his sleepless nights bearing down on him. His headache remains relentless and he is in dire need of a moment to himself. Once the team disperses, he slips his phone into his pocket and makes his way outside. The crisp, early morning air should offer him some relief, along with the pack of cigarettes tucked in his pocket.

When he reaches the building's designated smoking area, Yoongi takes out a cigarette and lights it, taking a deep drag as he leans against the cool brick wall. As he exhales, watching the smoke dissipate into the clear sky, his thoughts drift back to the meeting. The idea of hosting a talk show, "Suchwita...time to drink with Suga," still lingers in his mind. It’s an intriguing concept, and he can already envision the relaxed, candid conversations that could come from it.

His thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching on the ground nearby.

"Oh, Yoongi-ssi," you say with alarm, obviously startled by his presence. "I didn't mean to interrupt you. I'll come back lat-"

"There's no need for that. Join me if you'd like." Yoongi watches as you hesitate to accept his offer, your feet already positioned to head back inside the building. "Seriously, there's plenty of room, and no matter what they'll tell you, I don't bite."

He allows himself to smirk as you carefully move beside him, only stopping when there is at least two feet of space between you both.

"Thanks," you say, pulling out your own pack of cigarettes and lighting one. "I needed a break too."

"Rough morning?"

"Just busy," you reply, leaning against the wall next to him. "But the meeting went well. We should be able to get the ball rolling now that we have a more finalized plan. I'm glad you liked the idea of starting Suchwita, by the way."

"I do," Yoongi says, nodding. "It has a lot of potential and I'm sure Namjoon will be more than happy to help us out. He's a natural at this kind of stuff. I guess it's why he's our band leader."

"You know you're good at all of this too, don't you, Yoongi-ssi?" You pause, taking a puff of your cigarette. "Even when you have a lot on your mind and a packed schedule, you have a knack for making people feel at ease. It's why I think producing Suchwita will be such a great way to connect with fans and other artists—you'll be the host."

He chuckles, appreciative of the remark. "You really think that? That I make people feel at ease? It's not what a lot of people assume."

"Nah," you reply, tilting your head up toward the clouds. "They're just on the outside looking in. Those who know you, who are around you and talk to you, will agree that you're a pretty calming presence."

"Well, I think we're not so different then." Yoongi shifts his eyes to your face, still looking up at the sky, and smiles softly. "So, what made you come to BigHit? Didn't you say you worked for Atlantic Records? That's a pretty good gig."

"Yeah, it was. I learned a lot there, and man, I was thrilled when I got offered the job as a brand manager. I've always loved music, ever since I was a kid. I could connect so intimately with the lyrics. Music is one of the few things that could soothe me during rough times, and it still does today. I'm sure you can understand."

Yoongi nods, intent on listening to your every word, intrigued by your story.

"Anyway, sorry about getting long-winded here" you chuckle. "I ultimately decided to move on when Bang PD reached out and offered me the marketing manager position for TXT. It gave me the chance to be a more integral part of bringing music to individuals who need it most. It's like we say, 'music for art and healing.' I'd never had the opportunity to manage a completely new set of musicians before either, let alone a group. Plus, being on the global marketing team? I couldn't turn it down."

"It makes sense why you joined us then, and I have to say, it's a blessing you did too. Music is a way of communication for me, a way I can best express my story. That includes my past, present, and hopefully future. After hearing all you shared, I don't think there's anyone else I'd trust with handling my album promos." Yoongi pauses a moment, unsure if he should ask the next thing on his mind. "How come we never met before? I mean really meet and talk?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure myself. But things have a way of falling into place when the time is right, I suppose." You're now looking at him, the intensity of your gaze mirrors his own. A gentle breeze tousles a few strands of your hair and for a split moment, Yoongi begins to understand what Taehyung meant earlier when he said it feels like he's known you his whole life, like a childhood friend he'd reconnected with. While it may not be to that extent for himself, there's a comforting warmth emanating from you that leaves him feeling strangely tranquil.

"Given the circumstances, I feel like we should have at least met through Taehyung by now," he slips out. "Or even at a company-sponsored event."

"Why, do you like me that much, Yoongi-ssi? After five days of working together?" Your playful tease catches him off guard, revealing a side of you he hadn't seen before. It's kind of cute-wait, what?

"I-"

"Sorry," you quickly interject, feeling the need to backtrack. "I shouldn't have said it like that."

"Don't worry, there's no need for apologies. And to answer your question, I like you enough." He hopes you can hear the tease in his own tone as he responds.

You both lapse into a comfortable silence for the next few minutes, the only sounds being the distant hum of traffic and the occasional chirp of a bird. He finds all of it soothing in a way he can't quite explain.

After a few minutes, you turn to him, your expression thoughtful. "You know, if you ever need to talk or just need a break, I'm here. We're teammates now."

Yoongi looks at you, his tired eyes softening with gratitude. "Thanks, __-ssi."

You give him a reassuring smile before pushing off the wall. "I'll let you finish your cigarette. See you later? And by later, I likely mean at 9 or 10 pm in our company elevator."

"Yeah, see you later," he laughs, watching as you walk back toward the building. He takes one last inhale, extinguishing the cigarette and letting the remaining smoke escape his lips slowly.

Yeah, he likes you just enough.

a/n: Hope you enjoyed it! Lmk what you think 🥰

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[sunboki]

— BRIGHTER PLACES. (TEASER) a Lee Felix fiction

Chef! Lee Felix x gn. reader

TROPE. cooking class au, childhood friends to lovers, reader is burnt out and slightly depressed, coincidences, fluff, angst

WARNINGS. mentions of depression/depressive episodes, mentions of unrequited love, burn out

AUG'S NOTES. yes this fic is out of the blue (when aren’t my fics out of the blue??) but UGH does this piece really tax my emotions and i love it a billion for it — i need felix as my therapist for a day.. tell me what you think of the teaser!

SYNOPSIS. Thrown asunder beneath crushing assignments, work, and the fleeting hope your “young and free” twenties experience may someday happen, you had yet to realize said experience was right around the corner. Whisked into a mixture of unearthed feelings and past occurrences, presented with a cherry on top by renowned Chef Lee Felix.

or alternatively :

Eventually, the sun will shine again.

Out of any gift you’ve received, you thought the treehouse in your backyard was the most memorable. It seemed like, in this vast universe, everything was right.

Then it wasn’t, then it was. Again and again. A repetitive cycle.

However, your overcast days did have an expiration date, and sunshine would eventually show itself again.

You just weren’t aware yet.

.

.

.

At seven years old, you would spend hours daydreaming, inviting friends, taking naps, and reading in your treehouse. Oftentimes, during the long days of summer, you’d eat lunch up there; lost in this secluded world only you knew about.

When you’re younger, every little thing appears peach-tinted.

The warm fire of a candle on a nightstand, setting dull objects ablaze with its brightness. Shadow puppets, dance parties. So ordinary yet exceptional all the same. Easy to configure from a developing mind as something excellent, fantastical.

Your twenties don’t envelop a hazy glow. Mind now hardened, treehouse still lingering (more like rotting) in the backyard of your parents house, things are more serious, less inviting.

Who knew adulthood would be this lonesome.

Walking from a bar, you fail to appreciate the hum of music from a buzzed radio, the wafting smell of Italian food hidden somewhere in the midst of neon signs and outdoor eateries.

Instead, priorities had lodged themselves indefinitely far into your soul, drowning out the voice telling you you’re you, not the expectations you’re held to.

Further and further did you drift into that intoxicating headspace, until someone—or, in your case, something—had to pull you out.

That something being a cooking—well, baking class. This weekend, an hour and a half. Menu: The Ideal Donuts.

“Think of it as a release,” Sana had told you, this wide, excited smile etching the skin of her face.

Immediately, you wanted to hand it back to her, tell the eccentric best friend of yours to spend such an occasion on herself instead.

Yet, you knew better than to try negotiating with Sana, the girl who has been present through your ugliest moments, who you’ve cried to more times than able to count.

Your intention wasn’t an attempt to make your life as miserable as possible. In fact, each day you strived for a resource, an indication things would grow better, as better as it seemed to be for everyone else.

Though you can only stretch a rubber band so far, and once it reaches its farthest extent, it snaps.

And the recoil stings.

“Okay, thank you.” You respond after a beat of silence, lips pulled into a tight line, investigating the information written on the card.

She pats your shoulder, a sweet smile worn upon pink lipstick.

Lee’s Baking Class.

Lee. The name sounds familiar.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[mewintheflesh-2]

Without You

Rating: Teen and Up audiences

Archive warnings: None

Characters: Francis Mosses, Original Characters

Tags: Unrequited Love, heartbreak, Song: Without You (Strawberry Guy), Crushes, Unrequited Crushes, Francis Mosses has sensory issues (briefly mentioned), minor blood and injury, Francis deals with the qualms of being a retail worker (kinda), men crying, emotional hurt, hurt/no comfort, not beta read, Reader is gender neutral.

Word count: 1,800 (rounded down)

Summary: Francis wasnt having a good time.

And you're not about to make it any better

Also posted on Ao3

Francis sighed solomly as he gripped the now empty milk carrier. Hard enough to leave imprints on his hand and whiten his knuckles.

His black leather shoes clicked and clacked against the cold, concrete sidewalk. The sunset painting everything around him in a golden light. It'd be nighttime soon.

He lifted his free hand to his head and clutched his sweaty hair from underneath his hat. He was so tired. He just wanted to get home and sleep.

But he mostly just wanted to talk to you.

Even if you only really talked through that thick, protective window, youd been making more and more conversation with eachother each time you spoke, getting to know eachother more and more each day.

It wasnt long before Francis' lovesick brain fell head over heels.

It was everything about you. The way you looked, with a smile rivaling the warmth of the sun, and just as dangerous to his heart and mind. You always seemed to know exactly what to say to him to pull at his heart like a puppet on a string.

If he didnt know any better, hed say you were doing it on purpose.

He wouldnt mind either way.

Francis slugged up to the reception window, a weight lifted off of him at the sight of you at your desk.

He pushed his ID and Entry Request inside the letterbox for you to receive, planting his hands on the metal shelf jutting out of the wall just below the window; watching you expectantly with a simultaneous aching and soothing feeling in his heart.

After a minute of shuffling papers and opening folders, you look up at him.

"Hello, Francie." You smiled warmly at him.

There it was.

That nickname.

God how it made his heart swell. 

'Francie.'

Such a cute nickname

and it was just for him, gifted from you.

"How's your day been?" You tilted your head slightly at him, setting down and organizing his identification and sliding his profile back into the appropriate folder.

Francis looked at you for a second before frowning. "Not great." He sighed as he shook his head softly, looking down at his shoes.

Your eyebrows knit together in concern, a frown adorning your lips.

"I'm sorry, Francie. What happened, if you dont mind me asking?" Your voice was so warm and soft as you leaned in closer to the window.

It made Francis' heart flutter for a second before he had to think back to all that had happened earlier.

"It's just a lot of little things building up. I'm probably more upset about it than I should be." Francis looked down at his hands, and then up to you.

The expression on his face was just killing your heart. 

"Im all ears." You speak softly as you push your chair in closer to your desk, and by extension, the window.

"If theres anything you need to say, then say it. Its always nice to get things off your chest, dont you think?" You smile softly at him, pushing your chair closer to your desk, and closer to the window by extension.

"Are you sure?" Francis looked around, almost worried. Surely he'd be taking up your time on your job if he did that, right?

"I have all the time in the world-- and I'd rather be talking to you than anything else right now." You assured, that deadly warm smile on your lips again.

The words made Francis feel warm and soft.

A small smile appeared on his face for a brief, fleeting moment. 

 Francis stared at you for a moment, as if asking for approval to speak.

You nod.

He sighed, looking down at the metal shelf infront of him as his ungloves hands tapped at it, wondering where to begin.

"Its just- work has been just awful today.  Someone had left their dog outside, as soon as it saw me it wouldn't stop chasing me, i tried to run away, but it eventually caught up to me and bit my leg.

It wouldnt let go until I had to pry it off of me. And even then it didn't leave me alone for awhile. Not until it's owners came back to take it off of me." 

You frowned, trying to open your mouth to speak, but Francis kept talking.

"And because of that dog, i dropped and broke multiple milk bottles on the sidewalk. So after the dog got taken off of me, i tried picking up the glass since I didn't want anybody accidentally stepping on it because of me, but the shards cut me. Badly. Even through my gloves."

He held his hand up to the window for you to see. There were bloodied bandages wrapped around his hand, and several smaller cuts on his bare fingers. 

You cringe at the sight.

"I had to take them off to clean the wounds, and everything has just been sensory hell ever since." Francis' face draws to a grimace.

"And to make things worse, I had to deal with people yelling at me for being incompetent for losing their deliveries."

He clenched his jaw, his expression doesn't look anything but sad.

"Even though it wasn't even my fault. I'm not the one who left their dog outside. And just to top it off, I've had a horrible migrane all day, and It's just-" He inhales and groans,  collapsing onto the metal shelf infront of him.

"I just want to take a break. I just want to rest."

He mumbles as he tucks his face into his folded arms.

Silence, for a moment.

"Francie........... That's awful-- I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?" You frown sympathetically as you push you chair forward even more, squishing yourself against your desk and placing a hand on the window infront of you.

Francis lifted his head to look up at your hand, and then at you.

"I think talking to you and going to sleep is  enough for me to feel better." Francis smiled briefly before registering what he'd said, casting his gaze anywhere but you after he realized what he'd spoken.

You laugh softly. "If you say so."

Silence for a bit, as Francis regains his composure.

He lifts himself up, slowly propping himself on his elbows on the shelf, leaning his head on his knuckles, huffing out a breath of air.

"...How was your day?" He asks after a beat, head tilted curiously.

You smile, retracting your hand from the window. "My days been pretty slow, but im meeting someone later, so im pretty excited for that."

Meeting someone?

...

Francis blinked for a second. His expression faltering to a look of sadness for just a moment.

No. Surely you didnt mean it like that.

"Meeting someone...?" He echoed.

"Mhm." You smiled softly at the thought. "We met just a few days ago. He seems pretty nice, I'm excited to get to know him more." You lean your head on your hand, mirroring the man behind the glass.

"A-ah.......... Congratulations." Francis did his best to refrain from letting any indication of his emotions fall upon his face as he straightened himself out; but he couldn't help but frown. 

"Francie? Are you alright?" You tilted your head the slightest bit, voice a catalyst of concern for the man standing on the other side of the thick, protective glass. 

"Mhm. I just remembered something. Apologies." He held the brim of his cap between his pointer and thumb, pulling it down over his eyes the slightest bit to avoid looking at you. But he really couldn't help himself.

"Oh, alright. Is there, uh, anything I can help you with?" Your voice was calm and careful in a way that just broke poor Francies heart even more. "About what you remembered- I mean." 

"No, no. It's fine. Thanks for the offer." He shook his head softly, forcing a small smile as he looked down at the shelf infront of him.

"Of course, Francie." Your eyebrows knit together in concern. "Just let me know if there's anything I can do for you. You can tell me anything." 

"Mhm. Thank you." Francis took a quick glance at the door, before looking back in your direction-- though nowhere near directly at you. You put together he was probably signaling to you that he wanted to leave now.

"I'll see you tommorow?" Your voice was soft, sweet, a delicacy and a curse to Francis' ears.

There was a light buzzing noise as you pressed the button to unlock the main entrance. 

"Mhm. Goodbye." He waved at you softly, only actually looking into your eyes for a brief, fleeting moment before walking away. 

"Goodbye........." You spoke quietly, a soft pit in your stomach as you watched Francis dissappear through the doors.

You were so caught off guard by his sudden change in behavior you nearly forgot to lock the door again.

He usually liked to stay for as long as he could.

Was it something you said?

You frowned, leaning back in your chair and fidgeting with some papers.

You'd have to ask him about it tomorrow.

Again began the waiting for your neighbors to return to their apartments.

Francis opened his apartment door with shaking hands, keys jingling as they were set on his kitchen counter.

With a heavy sigh, he flicked on his lamp, enveloping the room in a warm yellow glow, trying to keep his composure.

Slowly but surely he kicked off his shoes, grabbing and throwing his hat onto his dresser.

Just as he was about to unbutton his uniform he was hit with a sudden disgusting, sickening feeling in his chest as tears welled up in his eyes.

He shook his head, eyes squinting involuntary as he let himself fall onto his bed.

He lied there, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore anything he was feeling.

But no matter how many times he tried, something still peeked through.

He inhaled sharply through his nose as he flipped himself over onto his stomach, nestling his face into his soft pillows.

The feeling in his chest was too intense to bear, he could feel his breath become sporadic, unsure if it was because his face was buried in his pillows or otherwise.

He inhaled sharply once more, this time followed followed by a small Hic as his throat began to close up.

No, no, he wasn't going to cry. It's not that big of a deal. He's fine. He should be happy for you if anything.

But. With everything that happened up until that point. He really couldn't help himself from letting his emotions get the best of him.

Hot tears soaked into his pillow as his hands clutched at his hair violently, hissing in pain as his wounds flexed open.

He grits his teeth, another hic escaping his lips as he opened his eyes into the pillow.

Nothing but a warm, yellowish void.

 He pushed himself up and flipped onto his side, curling into himself, yanking a blanket over his shoulders before clutching his head, throbbing in a burning pain once again as he cried quietly.

He didn't even turn off the lamp before he'd passed out.

Silent, steady breathing, wet cheeks illuminated by the soft yellow light of his lamp. 

Tired eyes, finally getting their well deserved rest. 

An aching heart, beating slowly, deep inside his chest.

[telomeke-bbs]

BAD BUDDY – WHO ARE YOU REALLY, NONG NAO?

I had never thought much about Nong Nao in Bad Buddy, dismissing Pat's favorite comfort object – a puppet of undefined genealogy and gender – as just another prop/device to highlight Pat's kid-at-heart nature.

But now I think there's just a tiny bit more to Nong Nao than meets the eye, if you look a little closer. What we learn also tells us more about Nong Nao's owner Pat (and it's not all light-hearted fun when it comes to the fore).

The Thai words for Nong Nao (I got this from the GMMTV online shop, linked here) are น้องเน่า, and running this through the online dictionaries turns up some interesting information.

The word nong (น้อง), as everybody knows now, is a term of address for someone younger than you (that also carries connotations of familiarity and informality). Most often employed for younger siblings, it can also be used in relationships where there is an older + younger sibling dynamic (e.g., between friends, seniors and juniors in school and university, sometimes at work too). And of course it can also be used as a term of endearment between two romantic partners, especially when the nong is younger and gives off babygirl energy.

The word nao (เน่า) actually means rotten or decayed. So one way to read Nong Nao is Rotten Little One, which helps to explain the doll's jumbled, Frankensteinishly patchworked appearance. But remembering that nong is also used for friends – another way to read Nong Nao is Rotten Little Pal. And tell me now, doesn't that sound more than just a little coincidentally like… Bad Buddy?

What this seems to be telling us is that Nong Nao must be the doll-pillow counterpart for the real bad buddy in Pat's life – Pran Parakul Siridechawat. Although you wouldn't really have needed to know this to have worked out that Nong Nao can easily be seen as a Pran-substitute in BBS.

Pat refers to Pran as the Nong to his Phi or Hia a couple of times in Bad Buddy (e.g., at Ep.10 [3I4] 18.50 and 19.56) and they themselves joke about Pran being Nong Nao/Nong Noo at Ep.8 [3I4] 6.30. Also, when Pran manages to fend off Pat's romantic thrusts during their Ep.7 courtship competition with gigil/geram-inducing parries, Pat's instinctive reaction is to vent his frustrations out on none other than poor little Nong Nao, his stand-in for Pran (see Ep.7 [1I4] 17.11).

But I think Nong Nao's significance goes deeper than just reminding Pat of Pran. We're also allowed a look into Pat's psychological interior, especially when we contrast his relationship to Nong Nao against what we know about Pran.

If I'm reading this right, I think Pat's comfort object Nong Nao is also the parallel to Pran's comfort object – his PP hobo bag.

The double P on Pran's faithful tote can be seen as a single P hiding a smaller one at its center, just the way Pran was nursing an unseen, unspoken crush on Pat in his heart for years (written up here).

And we saw how Pran, when out and about, would rarely be seen without this emotional crutch that he would clasp to his person as some sort of psychological armor against the external world.

This makes sense, especially when we see how introverted Pran put in so much effort to build up walls against the outside, much preferring the solitude and psychological stillness of his own inner world, desolate as it might have been (see this write-up here for more analysis).

But Pat in many ways is the opposite of Pran, and nowhere is this more immediately visible than in his extroversion. Pat's energy is directed outward and (after Ep.1 and Pran's return) he is often, if not always, full of sunshine and jovial smiles in the company of others (not when the situation is sad or threatening of course, but definitely when it is at least neutral, if not happy).

A clear example of this would be the scene at the Jae Si Curry House starting at Ep.2 [2/4] 0.18 – Pran's demeanor at the Archi boys' table is so serious and buttoned-up, compared to Pat's hearty laughs and unguarded body language at the Engine boys' table (and BBS also takes a highlighter pen to this with Pran inside under shelter while Pat is outside in the open). 🤩

So for extrovert Pat, being out in the world is his comfort zone, and is also why in Ep.8 he couldn't stop himself from posting little photos on Instagram hinting at their love affair with the hashtag #JustFriends (see Ep.8 [4/4] 0.56), much to secretive Pran's chagrin.

However, what BBS only quietly suggests (without showing it to us directly) is that Pat doesn't seem to do so well when it's just him alone. He says at Ep.7 [2/4] 5.46 "I can’t sleep if I don’t have Nong Nao in my arms", which at first I took to be solely a ruse to get Pran over to his apartment. But now I think it hints of more, that extrovert Pat's inner world is not really a place he likes to inhabit, unlike introvert Pran who takes refuge in his internal sanctuary.

With regard to Nong Nao's age, Pran refers to the doll-pillow as neither new nor old, but "oldish" (see Ep.7 [2/4] 5.43). So it's not a relic from Pat's early childhood, which would be about a decade and a half prior (and Nong Nao's appearance also aligns with this).

I'm only guessing, but it would seem that Pat took to needing Nong Nao to help him fall asleep maybe in his early teens or just before? This would be around the time when an individual starts questioning their identity and how it relates to their sense of self.

I think what BBS shows us is that Pran has a pretty strong grip on his own mindset and identity. His inner world can't have been the most comfortable, but it was comfortable enough for him because it was the single source of truth about himself and reassuring in its unchanging nature (see this write-up here).

On the other hand Pat's innermost self, at least before he coupled up with Pran, must have been quite a different environment. From childhood Ming had pushed his son to be a proxy in his battle with the Siridechawats, and the naturally-open and loving Pat was taught, maybe even forced against his better instincts, to "hate" Pran next door (using own word from Ep.10 [4/4] 10.32).

So when in the world outside, Pat was fully sure of himself and his role there. But when it was just him alone, his outside self wouldn't have gelled with his internal reality and must have caused him all sorts of unease and uncertainty.

For how can you be comfortable and secure in your own company, when you are in some ways a stranger to yourself, and you don't truly recognize who you are? Within his inner confines, Pat would have been seeing diverse versions of himself juxtaposed and jostling for centerstage, and to have had these different, seemingly-familiar faces haunting your (sub- or semi-) consciousness would likely have been a scarily disorientating scenario in one so young.

And when Pran was sent away, teen Pat no longer had Pran's company and counsel, and no more tin-can phone calls right before bedtime to comfort him and keep him safe from whatever demons lurked in the darkness whenever it was just him alone in his world.

It's not surprising that Nong Nao would have been a tremendous comfort to Pat, because this reminder of his unadulterated friendship with Pran, borne from his true self and unpolluted by Ming's influence, was also a reminder of his true nature and identity in his head, where other renderings of Pat planted by Ming also had to co-exist like various ghostly beings, animated but not true to life.

What terrors must plague your night-time dreams, that you have to clutch a little stand-in babyghoul, appropriately monsterish as a shield against the monsters haunting your loneliest moments – and the horror only multiplies when you realize that the monsters are various versions of you?

How tragic is that, not to know your own heart, or to feel safe alone with it?

Maybe this is why for most of BBS, Pat is shown to us as being out of touch with his inner self (e.g., he could not tell that his incipient romantic feelings were for Pran and not Ink). I can see him escaping into the day as much as he could, fleeing from the darkness within – and when he had no choice at night, he had to have Nong Nao/Bad Buddy/Pran clutched to his front as armor. (But it appears that he could not escape things entirely, and the darkly-frowning Pat of Ep.1 [1I4] 1.08, devoid of Pran and beset by demons, is our first view of him before Pran comes back into his life.)

Pran was the original savior in BBS, when he saved Pa from drowning in Ep.1. He may not have known it, but I think he saved Pat too – from himself and the monster he had become. For it was Pran who helped Pat to see who he really was inside – someone open-hearted and capable of loving truly, not just some ghostly shell programmed only to hate the boy next door.

But just as Pran remained loyal to his PP bag throughout BBS, Pat never abandoned Nong Nao either, even when the little stitched-up imp no longer had to understudy for Pran in Pat's life after they became a couple, and even after Pat settled into knowing himself for who he truly was.

And I think this is because – even with Pran in his life as partner, soulmate and protector of his heart – our big-hearted boy with so much love to give isn't ever going to forsake any reminder of Pran Parakul Siridechawat, and will hold him tightly to his heart physically and figuratively, for all the rest of his life. 💖‌

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 18/34 - ashes

[Read on AO3]

“I love what you've done with the place,” a voice speaks as soon as the apartment door closes behind her. She looks up at the darkened shadow in the corner, only partially illuminated by the dim light of Mulder's fish tank. His face lights up with an orange flash as he flicks his lighter on, bringing the flame to the tip of his cigarette. It reflects off the hard edges of his face, giving him the monstrous appearance of a gargoyle for the briefest of moments before fading into black once more.

“What do you want?” Scully asks, no patience for beating around the bush with this man. At least he appears to be incapable of harming anyone. The man looks like he already has one foot in the grave, and she'd love to give him that last little push he needs.

“I want you to stop looking,” he answers simply.

“You've wanted that since 1973, when you ordered an end to the search for Mulder's sister,” she says, unmoved. “Your initials are on the document, I've seen it.”

If he’s surprised that she’s figured that much out on her own, he doesn’t show it. “Yes, I signed that order because I knew then what I know now: No one's going to find her.”

“Why not?”

“Because I believe she's dead.” The words deal a crushing blow, as does the cold, unfeeling way he speaks them. “No reason to believe otherwise,” he says offhandedly, gesturing vaguely with his cigarette.

“You're a liar,” Scully says softly, her hatred of the man simmering just below the surface. “If you knew that she was dead, why didn't you say something earlier? Why now?”

“There was so much to protect before,” he says with a shrug. “It's all gone now.” The Syndicate, reduced to ashes. Their leader obviously barely hanging on by a thread.

“So you just let Mulder believe that she was alive for all these years?” she asks, furious, if that’s the case. It makes her sick, the way he toys with Mulder like a puppet. 

“Out of kindness, Agent Scully,” he says. “Allow him his ignorance. It's what gives him hope.”

Scully rears back in disgust. How dare he talk about hope? How could he dangle the false promise of everything Mulder has ever wanted in front of him, and ask her to do the same?

Never.

“That isn't what gives him hope,” she says, glaring at the very embodiment of evil standing in her living room.

He gives a low chuckle, its sound chilling. 

“No, I suppose you're right. He has much better things to hope for now, doesn't he?” The insinuation that he knows what they’re up to terrifies her, but she won’t let it show. “I suppose I ought to thank you for that, Agent Scully,” he continues. “I never could have predicted how sending you to him would turn out, but you're good for him. Despite what you may think, it delights me to see my son so happy. And in the end, I succeeded in my purpose of sending him to you after all.”

“Which was what?” she spits.

“To distract him,” he says calmly. “To get him to quit.”

Well, tough luck, you black-lunged creep. “It didn't work out that way.”

“No, it didn't,” he concedes with a nod. “In fact, he became even more focused with you in the picture. A miscalculation, on my part. But I don't see how that's worth dwelling on now. Everything I built is gone.”

“I want you to leave us alone,” Scully demands. She wants nothing more than to get as far away from this man as possible, but she holds her ground. She won’t give him the satisfaction of spooking her.

“I will, so long as the two of you stay away from my business,” he says, taking another puff of his cigarette. “I trust that won’t be a problem?”

“You don’t know us at all, do you?”

He chuckles again. “Unfortunately, I do.” The shadows on his face shift as he takes a step in her direction. “In any case, I offer my heartfelt congratulations on your future together.”

“I’ll be sure to pass that along,” she says coldly, not even giving him an inch as he moves past her to the doorway.

He drops his cigarette onto the hardwood floor and steps on it to put it out. Its stench burns at her nostrils, and she isn’t sure even her strongest cleaning chemicals will be enough to remove it. “Your snark is noted, Agent Scully,” he says with a sickening half-smile and a nod. 

He opens the door and steps into the hall, then looks back at her one final time.

“Best of luck in your endeavors,” he says.

By the time she goes to shut the door behind him, he’s gone.

-.-.-

Mulder’s ramblings about his sister are nearly incoherent the next time she speaks to him. That, combined with her own experiences since returning to Washington, means she’s booking another ticket back out to California, a move that will certainly have the Bureau accounting people staring her down for the next month or so.

But it proves to be the right decision, because Mulder has found something. The most significant something that’s come his way since all this began.

She doesn’t know what it means.

She’s with him when he finds Samantha’s diary. Drawn there by some otherworldly force, or so he says. She can’t argue with the results, though. Hidden in this house, on an abandoned military base, is the diary of a fourteen year old Samantha Mulder.

Her heart aches for the girl, and for her big brother who drinks in every word scrawled on the page in blue ink.

The diary leads them to a police report. Which leads them to a hospital. Which leads them to the home of a retired nurse.

Which leads to the truth.

Finally.

The nurse tells a tale of a nameless girl, strange injuries, the fear in her eyes. Mysterious men who came looking for her in a cloud of cigarette smoke, and how she vanished from a locked room before they could get to her.

It almost raises more questions than answers, but Scully hopes it’s enough. Enough to satisfy her dearest friend, so that he can truly begin to live.

He disappears off on his own in the short time she’s away, talking to the nurse on her doorstep of her home. But she feels something too, like he had when they first arrived here.

This is where it ends. This is where the rest of their life together truly begins.

-.-.-

He’s not sure what it is exactly that pulls him further into the woods. But, the second he catches sight of the little boy again, translucent in the moonlight, he knows with a sinking feeling what he will find.

It’s overwhelming.

With each step he takes, he becomes more and more certain. Like the puzzle pieces are all sliding into place, forming the picture of their own accord. The lack of effort required by him, after all this time, leaves him feeling hollow and empty.

He's letting go. He has no choice but to do so now, faced with the facts before him. The place inside him where the mystery of his lost sister festered for so long has become a gaping hole, and he feels lost without it already. Uncertain where to go next, now that his guiding force is gone.

His first glimpse of her stills him, and even though deep down, he'd expected to find her, the actuality of it shakes him. It feels both unbelievable and startlingly real at the same time, and he doesn't know what to do. Does he cry? Close his eyes and reject the reality in front of him? Should he leave, satisfied with this conclusion to his life's mission despite it being not what he expected or hoped for?

In the end, he does none of those things. Her name drips from his lips, an answer to a question that has haunted him for decades. Simple, but unimaginably profound.

“Samantha...”

His feet carry him toward her in a trance. Her movement is not so restrained. Her beaming smile practically lights up the forest as she dashes to him, her dark waves bouncing over her shoulders.

She's taller than he's ever seen her, and yet, his own height makes her smaller by comparison. He enfolds her in his arms, not expecting much of anything, but he feels her.

There's no breath in her lungs, but she has a solid form. She's surprisingly warm, not like a living body would be, but—he supposes—like light. Electricity buzzes under the surface when her hand lands on his cheek, and though she's different, at heart she's the same.

He can practically hear her voice in his head as she grins happily up at him, her brother.

“Fox!” her eyes say, his name conveyed in the shine of recognition he sees there.

He swallows back the lump in his throat and crouches to his knees, inspecting the changes on her face with the gentle brush of his fingers.

This is what she'd looked like in the end. While he was off in England, beginning his studies at Oxford, this girl was still here, suffering at the hands of her captors, unable to recall anything more than his face.

He'd never forgotten her. Sometimes he'd hoped he might find her, to see her grown up and happy, freed from whoever it was that had abducted her.

Other times, he'd been certain he would never see her again. He convinced himself it would be a mercy if she'd been dead all this time.

Now, he supposes both were right. She was gone, granted the mercy of a peaceful exit from this life by the mysterious inner workings of the universe. But also…

He gets to see her. For what will be the last time, he knows.

And she is happy, he can tell. At peace. Really, that's all he can ask for.

“There's so much I wish I could tell you,” he says, blinking through tear filled eyes to keep her in his vision. 

He thinks of all that has happened to him since she disappeared. In some ways, he’s the same person he was all those years ago. In other ways, he is completely changed. He wants her to know him as he is. To know who her big brother has become.

“I'm going to be a father.”

The words leave his mouth unrestrained, but she seems to understand his need to say them. She smiles softly, tilting her head in what could either be a teasing or truly genuine response.

“I know,” he says with a chuckle. “You think I'll be any good?”

Her answer comes in the featherlight touch of her hand against his, and it feels sincere. He sees flashes of her memories of them together, playing games, walking together to her piano lessons after school, him setting out a TV dinner for her on the nights neither of their parents were home to feed them… He knows what she's trying to say, and it warms his heart, even if he can't hear her reassurance with his own ears.

Her fingers brush over the back of his hand, and he follows their path with his eyes until she lands on his bare ring finger. When he looks up at her, he finds an inquisitive look on her face that almost makes him laugh.

It's strange, to be with his baby sister as an adult. Marriage was the furthest thing from his mind when he'd last seen her. Back then, his only thought was what could happen on the next episode of Star Trek or whether he could convince his father to let him go to summer camp on the mainland that summer. But now, he's all grown up, and in a way, so is she.

“Yeah,” he says, responding to her unspoken question. Smiling quietly to himself, he pulls out the chain that holds his ring from beneath his shirt and dangles it out in front of her. Her eyes instantly light up, and she brings her forefinger up to his chest to touch the cool metal. Gently, like it might shock her.

“Dana,” he says boldly. He's not sure why, but he feels the need to tell her everything. She’s a ghost, or something very like it. The things of this world should no longer concern her. But she should know the name of her sister-in-law. That, at least, he can tell her. “Her name is Dana.”

Samantha looks happy. Relieved, even, which he thinks is strange. If anything, he's the one who should feel relieved, having found her after so long. But maybe she has cause for it, too. Maybe she's spent these years worried about him, just as he has worried for her.

Her small hand splays on his upper chest in a purposeful motion, near his collar bone on the left. He looks down at her hand and then back at her, trying to discern what question she may be asking now.

The scar there tingles, and for the first time, he feels a little guilty that he hasn't taken a little better care of himself. Standing in front of her now, he knows that's not what she would have wanted.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he says, chuckling softly. “She's the one who shot me. But I’m okay now.”

The corners of Samantha’s lips turn up in a small smile, but she shakes her head. No, that's not what she was wondering.

His brows furrow, and he's about to tell her that he doesn't understand when her fingers start to tap rhythmically against his chest.

Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.

The question mark at the end of the sentence is written on her face, and he finally makes the connection.

‘Do you love her?’ she's asking.

He grabs her hand, cupping it between his own much larger ones, and stares deep into her eyes. He won't lie, not to her.

“More than anything.”

Samantha gives a satisfied nod, a content smile on her face. He knows they don't have much time left, but there's still so much more he wishes he could say.

“I'm sorry I couldn't protect you,” he speaks, finally releasing the apology he's had stored up for over twenty years. “I'm sorry I couldn't save you.”

‘It's okay. I'm okay, now,’ her peaceful expression says. He feels her forgiveness as if it had been spoken aloud, and it's like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. 

‘You’ll be okay, too?’ she asks him next, the words voiced in the expectant tilt of her head.

He glances heavenward, willing the tears to subside for a few more minutes so he can get through this, but manages to smile and nod in response.

“Yeah. I think I'll be okay.”

-.-.-

She's just about to go looking for him when she sees his figure wandering back toward them. What he'd been doing in the woods, she can't begin to guess, but as he approaches, she levels him with a worried gaze.

His necklace is visible, resting atop his clothes instead of under them for once. It glints in the moonlight, and Scully briefly worries that someone will see, but there is no one here who would care.

“Mulder?” she asks. It takes all that is in her to resist the urge to touch him, to check him for physical injuries or other external signs of damage. He seems fine, but it's what goes on inside his head that really concerns her.

“It's over,” he answers in a calm voice. 

His response doesn't do much to reassure her. Calm on the outside certainly doesn't mean calm on the inside, as she well knows, and she still worries he'll shut her out.

He should know by now that his search for the truth is as much hers as it is his.

“Are you okay?” she asks, prodding deeper in hopes he won't shut down. 

He smiles at that, something about her words amusing him, and that offers her a little relief. The feeling only grows stronger as he pulls her into his arms, resting his head atop hers and swaying slightly on his feet.

“I'm okay,” he assures her, in a quiet voice meant only for her. “I'm free.” 

She feels his arms tighten around her, and his voice drops even further, hardly more than a breath into the still night air when he speaks again, insistent.

“We're free.”

-.-.-

She's laying half asleep on top of the scratchy motel room quilt when his voice penetrates the comfortable silence. Despite what she'd told Skinner, she's not keen on letting him out of her sight. Not after what he'd gone through. He lays beside her, curled up under the covers and facing the wall, only the hum of the clunky air conditioner perched in the window to fill the quiet.

“I told her about you,” he reveals.

She stills. He'd mentioned seeing Samantha in the forest, of course. Talked about ethereal children playing in the clearing, the echoing sounds of their laughter and squeals of delight the only sounds he could hear.

Whether she believes him or not, she's relieved that it brought him closure.

The idea that they'd talked about her, however, has her hoping and praying that it’s true. She wishes she could have been there with him. Could have seen her with her own eyes, this girl who has so completely shaped both Mulder's life and hers.

“What did you say?” she asks calmly, staring fixedly up at the ceiling. Her curiosity in this matter makes her feel vulnerable, and the ensuing silence does nothing to ease her nerves.

With the rustle of sheets, though, he turns over, his knees bumping against her legs under the covers. She fights the compulsion to look at him, knowing that if she did, she’d be faced with the full intensity of the stare she feels prickling the side of her face.

He inches closer, the movements jostling the springy mattress, and he maneuvers his head until it's practically on her pillow. She feels his breath on her neck, the spiky ends of his hair brushing against her cheek, commanding the totality of her attention.

“Someday I'll tell you, Scully,” he whispers, curling deeper into the bed. His forehead nuzzles against her shoulder and her eyes fall shut, lost entirely to the sensation of him beside her. “I promise.”

~~~

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[heartfullofleeches]

Need more of THIS please. I. Am b e g g i n g.

[Orion (Demon lord) and Priest Reader for context]

"Priest...."

A crimson pendant hangs before your eyes; chain puppeteer by pale flesh which coos to you so sweetly from the shadows. Mutted wails flicker along its cracks; a cry etched so deeply into memory you could hear them as clear as day. Forgiveness your most sacred virtue; you held no anger nor joy at the fruits of your comrades blasphemy. A fool who sought for might greater than your all power lord's, only to be crushed beneath its heels.

To add more fuel to the fire they've started, the devil would not leave after taking their soul. Just like mankind, he had succumbed to greed and longed to corrupt at least one more of god's soldiers before he returned. A delectable feast despite its ease. One could only imagine his delight when you all up ignored him on your first meeting. His promises of riches and fame did little for you, but your passiveness of his presence did wonders for him.

Stalking you to learn your life desires lead to poor success, but something about your devotion was...charming. He soon wondered what it would be like the subject of your prayers. The one who's glory was your own. To have his name rolled off your tongue as easily and life bearing as a second breath. In an urge to satisfy these thoughts, he offered not to take your soul, but instead a prayer for a single wish of your choice. How deliciously cruel was the smile you gave him that day.

"Know they're still alive. You can saved this damned soul and lead them back to God's house if you give me us one thing."

"Hmm.." You light another candle with the wax held in hand, preparing for service as always. "I know that it is in your nature, but please do not lie to me, demon. Even if they were still living, they've choose their path and I aim unable to provide them anything but a mention in prayer."

Orion scoffs at your words. "It may be a common tactic, but I have never lied to you, Priest. My precious diamond. Their body lies in the hospital, correct? Wasting away after that awful fire, but still breathing. Just say the word and they're free to go."

"May we continue this at a later date? I have to open the doors soon."

The embers of the candles die with a gush of wind. Peeling from the cover of shadows, Orion stalks over to you and advances until your back hits the alter. It is part of what drew him in, but how he tires of this little game you play. Stop worshiping a dead idol and give your love him already. In the face of a force overpowering you in both stature and strength, you merely smile as if greeting an old friend. He pins you in place by slamming his fists into the table, sweeping its contents onto the floor as you fall back against it. More hands appeared from the crater in his spine, locking around your legs and waist.

"Don't think you can ignore me, Priest." He hisses. "I will have what I want. Your mind, your flesh, your affection - all will belong to me. Your Creator is dead. Gone. I am all that will ever remain of their former glory so you. are. mine."

A laugh breaks through the quiet halls of the church. A haunting melody, which rings to the heavens and through the devil's skull. He is unsure whether to kiss you, or shut you up and drag you back to hell. In a complete change of direction, you reach for his hand. Yours doesn't even fit round his wrist, yet he follows your command as you bring it to your lips.

"If that is the case, why are you the one who comes to me? Obsessing over the attention of someone with not even a fraction of your lifespan or power. It's as clear as day that you need me. Not the other way around. You worship me, even if you are unaware. Before anything can truly be accomplished you must accept one thing."

His hand siffens as your lips connect with it, smile played against his skin.

"I am your God."

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Do you think Marinette really loves Adrien or does she loves the idea of him in her head?

Idk but I'm agree with Alya in Elation that you can't really love someone you don't know and Marinette arguably know Adrien only on surface level, either from the magazines or stalking him. We never got a scene where they talk together to get to know each other and then BAM! They just get together.

I also feels like Adrien's love for Marinette also more a rebound than anything. The writers can say anything they want, that Adrien fell in love with Marinette in Pupeteer2. But you don't develop feelings for someone you barely know, especially when in that said episode Adrien still think Marinette hate him. It's just weird. But again, idk, maybe it just me because I don't catch feelings to someone I barely talk to. That's just creepy AF no offense.

It's really hard to say because canon is all over the place when it comes to how close Adrien and Marinette are. Season three and four make them feel like little more than acquaintances, but if you think back to seasons one and two, they legitimately were friends.

Adrien turned to Marinette for dating advice (Frozer). Marinette and Adrien gamed for hours to prepare for a tournament (Gamer). Marinette and Adrien went to a party with their friends and danced together (Despair Bear). Marinette, Adrien, and their friends worked together to make a movie (Horrificator). I could go on, but the general gist is that it feels disingenuous to say that they barely interact. They interact a lot! It's just limited to the first two seasons.

I scanned through the episode list while writing this and seasons one and two have them interact in a meaningful way in about half of the episodes while seasons three and four got distracted by the new love interests, Lila, and the awful broken Ladynoir dynamic, dramatically cutting back on the Adrinette content to the show's detriment.

The other issue is that Marinette's crush is written more and more like a celebrity crush as the seasons go on, making it feel less and less genuine. So it's understandable to feel like she doesn't really love Adrien given how the show presents her, but if you tone down the crush to a non-comedic level, it does feel earned to me and I am also the kind of person that needs to know someone before developing feelings. Celebrity crushes and instant love are things I rarely enjoy in media probably at least in part because I'm ace.

I actually didn't get truly invested in the love square until Origins showed us why they first developed feelings. There's a reason I treat that episode as the golden standard for characterization. It's some of the best writing Miraculous has ever done. The writers crammed an impressive amount of content into 40 minutes and elevated the silly teen crushes into something with real substance. I will forever be sad that the rest of the show falls so short of that episode.

Moving on!

The Puppeteer 2 thing feels like a bad joke and it might be? It's hard to tell given how weird this show can get with its humor. Either way, it would have made a lot more sense and been much cuter if Adrien fell for Marinette when she unknowingly confessed her crush to him Glaciator 2 instead of falling for her after she accidentally forces a kiss on him during a prank gone wrong.

As for the rebound element... yeah, I don't disagree. Everything about the reverse crush was just weird because Ladybug falling for Chat Noir felt way more honest and earned than Adrien falling for Marinette given the way seasons five plays. I mean, the episode right before the reverse saw Ladynoir get married and have children, but Adrien is the one whose feelings are true and Marinette is the one having a rebound? Sure, writers. Sure.

If the reverse had happened right off of the season four finale, though? Then that actually could have worked. In those episodes, Marinette supported Adrien while their friends were oblivious to his true feelings, Adrien finally saw just how much pressure Ladybug was under, and Chat Noir supported Ladybug unconditionally in her darkest hour. I'm personally not a fan of the crushes switching mid-show, but I'd be lying if I said that wasn't a solid setup to lead into it. Adrienette and Ladynoir had never felt closer.

I think it's fair to say that this is why Miraculous is such a complex show for a lot of fans. It has truly spectacular setups, but the payoff always seems to fall flat on its face.

[joy-crimes]

i think my biggest problem w/ rwby @ this point is how much they love shock value and making their characters suffer for entertainment. Ever since the end of volume 8 there’s been an air of “you’ll never guess what happens next!!” before the result being death, destruction, sadness, etc.

They played the Everything is Horrible card to wrap up volume 3 and it almost feels like theyve been trying to recapture that “woah what the hell???” factor ever since.

the volume 8 ending marked a really dark turn for rwby as a show, with scenes so graphic and upsetting that you can feel the grins on the writer’s faces when they told themselves “This is a game changer, no one will EVER expect this.” even though many of the darker themes were already explored much more tactfully in v3.

but the result is much more damning, because now, nothing is shocking. It’s the factor that made most people stop reading attack on titan. if ANYTHING is fair game, no matter how dark, then why get invested in any of it??? Hell, they made bumbleby canon after years of baiting, doubling back, yearning, etc, and it didnt even end up being the climax of the episode!!! (no really! that episode kept going after the happiest scene all season).

Now like, volume 9 has been arguably going better than its predecessors in terms of character writing, but it’s also really awkward to watch them stumble and trip over the decisions they made for the volume 8 ending. There’s a deep deep feeling that if the team just talked to each other for more than 5 minutes, none of these events would be taking place. It’s narrative tension in such a bland form. the biggest relief in the entire season was an extended scene where blake and yang FINALLY talk about their feelings. after AN ENDLESS SUPPLY of skirting around their issues, and unfortunately, that episode ended, and we had plenty more show afterwards.

This latest episode was a tough sell for me. i already don’t exactly trust RT to handle “sensitive/distressing themes”, and to that end i think that Ruby’s “decision” in this episode could’ve used much more sensitive & informed lead-in. Also, straight up there are some really dark things in this episode ASIDE from that, that I swear to god, someone was smiling over in the writer’s room.

SPOILERS: you can try to make Neo a sympathetic villain, or you can have her crush a defenseless mouse to death under her heel, but you can’t do both, dude. Ya just can’t.

END SPOILERS: overall, i think im fine w/ this season. it’s overall decent and is trying it’s best to handwave away all the bad decisions made in previous seasons. That method CAN work if it’s in the interest of making a more thematically interesting show & learning from your past mistakes, but instead it feels like they’re simply running from tragedy to tragedy, with glimpses of happiness that are starting to feel more like a trick they can pull out whenever they want to lure you into a false sense of security. Characters being happy is now a surefire sign that there’s going to be a character death soon.

SPOILERS AGAIN SORRY THIS IS DISORGANIZED: my friend hannah pointed out that one of the most egregious parts of this episode is that neo didnt know most of the people she was puppeting around to psychologically torture Ruby. Neo’s actions were supposed to convince Ruby that all these deaths were her fault, but because there’s VERY few characters that fit that bill, you end up with the issue of many characters being folks Neo shouldn’t even know the status of (unless she can suddenly read minds)

Leo, the headmaster of mistral died while ruby & friends were off screen, and was DIRECTLY killed by Salem without Ruby’s involvement.

Ozpin and Pyrrha were killed by Cinder, while Neo was busy careening into the abyss on her umbrella, implying in that in their brief time together, Cinder explained everyone who died who had a connection to Ruby. Neo clearly guesses that penny is dead in the first place, meaning that her even KNOWING about Leo is completely unexplainable. Neo also shouldnt have known that Ironwood was dead, and on top of all else, why does she think that Ruby would blame herself for clover???? methinks the writers just wanted to fill seats in neo’s scary fucked up dining room. wacky decision.

Or maybe it isnt, because the first thing i thought was: “Wow thats so scary what the fuck”

which again points a big neon arrow to the writing issues of current rwby: It was done to be shocking even though it doesn’t make sense.

I have a hard time believing any of the events of this episode are ones they’ll stick with. All of the characters who “died” in this episode can plausibly come back in some way shape or form, so I guess now its time to just wait n see what happens.

[cinnaminsvga]

hi bestieeee

ive been following & have had notifs on for years. i actually dont even pay attention to kpop anymore AIDBBFHFDISO but ive always wanted to know sooo badly: how does LOOH end?

I know it's on indefinite hiatus but it doesn't seem like itll ever be completed, and the curiosity has always killed me 😭

"it doesn't seem like itll ever be completed" PLEASEEEEE i screamed but yeah youre 100% right LOL

its kinda hard to say how looh was supposed to end because i kinda write smaus on the go without indepth storylines lol (i.e. basically i bullshit on the go and fake it til i make it)

fair warning also that ive forgotten almost all of looh by this point... i used to have a notebook with my ideas for the smau but i lost it during my last move so this is what i can remember. apologies if there are inconsistencies but i genuinely dont remember LMAOOO its been (8)4 years...

i can give you an idea of how i was thinking of ending looh... under the cut for the sake of people who dont give af lol

i do know for a fact that i planned jimin and y/n to be endgame. it was going to be a long process of "will they or wont they" because of jimins underlying insecurities and y/n's inability to introspect would always be a hindrance in their relationship

i know i framed y/n as like a "really good person" but she really isnt perfect. i was gonna lay more groundwork to "expose" her for some of the fucked up shit she did in the past (i forgor 💀) and i was planning on exploring her internalized "holier than thou" complex

that was gonna be the second main conflict after the whole jimin vs tae conflict... kinda like a season 2 lol

BUT BACK TO SEASON 1... tae vs jimin lol so yeah tae releases that slander video on jimin and he runs away... y/n is supposed to have a big altercation with jin and make him release a statement proving jimin's innocence... jin ofc says no and y/n + jimin (+kook on the side) have to figure out a way to improve jimin's public image

my initial idea was that he tries to pivot towards becoming a professional dancer and joining hoseok's crew... i was planning on introducing a new character (likely seungkwan haha gotta keep with the seventeen member cameos) who was gonna be like a PR manager... they'd make a youtube channel and post content about their dancers. not just their dances, but interviews, challenges, etc. just to "prove" jimin is the good guy or something.

on the side, the seungcheol/jeonghan/yoongi drama... yeah seungcheol gets dumped by y/n like an additional two times LOL and for funsies, jeonghan confesses his feelings for seungcheol to y/n (shocker) and its all very messy mwahahah (yeah they both end up sad in the end my bad). as for yoongi... OH BOY

so yeah he got rejected by y/n which RUINS his ego and he doesnt give up for a while. then he starts crushing on seungcheol (who previously had a crush on him lol) and it gets very messy but overall he gets called out on his power tripping ways and ends up alone at the end teehee (he was gonna get an epilogue scene where he goes to the club all drunk and shit and a younger guy hits on him but calls him "sir" after seeing his face properly lol)

as for jin/hoseok/namjoon... uhhh yeah 2seok dont end up strictly together... theyre both chaebols with fucked up senses of humor (they both enjoy playing with people like chess pieces) and jin gets super pissed when he finds out hoseok has been playing with HIM on the side. they have a heated argument that causes the collapse of bang ent (hoseok has more money/influence than him and essentially grabs the company off jin's hands) and BOOM friends to lovers to enemies to ???

oh and namjoon is there. uhhhh yeah he becomes jin's little puppet for a while. essentially namjoon spies on y/n for jin and breaks her trust. this further strains kook's mental state because he feels super guilty about everything. i was planning on kook being pro-joon and breaking y/n's heart, but i wasnt sure. it all depends on how i was feeling tbh LMAOOO sometimes i like making jungkook cry (all the time)

as for tae... yeah he wins LOL he's essentially the main antagonist (its not jin... surprise) but he actually succeeds in becoming a very popular pornstar. even when hoseok grabs the company, he keeps tae on their roster and tae becomes very rich. he continues trying to slander jimin but he eventually stops when hoseok forces him to stop (out of guilt? bribery? revenge? who knows lol)

umm back to jimin and y/n... yeah they get together blah blah y/n confesses first, jimin gets hurt a lot, y/n is bad at relationships (shes got bad interpersonal skills), they have a large argument where y/n accidentally dehumanizes jimin (ouch)... so many things. all that matters is that they do end up together... maybe not so happily, but they'll get there. i think.

SO YEAH THAT WAS SO MESSY idk how coherent this was... again like i said, i kinda write smaus on the go so a lot of these things arent necessarily canon. i only consider things canon when stuff gets posted, but again like u said thats probs never happening LOL but in the meantime, if u have more questions about any of the points listed above, lemme know!! i'll try my best to explain further (sobs i am so rusty at writing u dont even know) anyway blessings be upon ye!!

[skybristle]

ask game time

8, 17, 22 for whichever one is on your mind at the moment

IM SO SORRY NAV I WENT OUT TO EAT AND THEN IMMEDIATELY FELL ASLEEP

hmmm. Looking at prompts.... [grabs chimes like a soda can and crushes him]

8 - What is your iterator's opinion on bioengineering? Natural ability of iterators? A cruel push of artificial will? Something to be moderated? etc.

he does do bioengineering much more than a lot of his groupmates!!!! mainly for slugcat messengers [gardener, recon, and mercy were all designed by him]. i think he's very... modest about it though. he's very careful to make sure their quality of life is intact and modifications work well [which is interesting when mercy's spores make *it* sleepy all the time, hes just in such a rush... </3]. i think he doesn't have many qualms about it but tries not to be.... clinical. he tries to hand raise them, brings them to his puppet chamber as soon as he can, etc etc. they're his babies!!!

he also feels like he doesn't have much of a right to step on their free will [again, mercy is a divergence with such a specific task. also recon but it was made by ochre in flors can chimes just designed it], but gardener especially spends most of its time just,... wandering the wild being happy. especially as he remakes it dozens of times and watches them all choose different lives [living with the colonies, on its own, staying in his can more permanantly, etc]. it's only when ochre approaches death that he sends overseers to beg it to come back.

17 - How does your iterator feel about ascension? Is it something they want to strive for? Help others achieve? Something to avoid? etc.

you see he was never particularly oriented towards iterating to solve the Problem compared to most iterators- partially because reefs, his mama, didn't believe in the construct of religion as ancient soceity practiced it, and honestly a lot of that belief continued to his city with a very lax view of ascension. just 'yeah, hopping in a vat of void fluid if you feel fufilled and happy at the end of your life is a thing you can do if you want.'

he DID care about his ancients very much and while YES ascension made them happy, he had a really good understanding of like.... the trust and weight of the choice, and he doesn't really think its the kind of choice a slugcat can make [or if they do, its not up to him].

he misses his parents, so deeply, and it never really leaves him.... he doesn't resent ascension but sometimes wishes he could see them again [reefs, especially].

he doesn't know if he'll ascend some day, especially as he sits in the snow having not spoken to another iterator in centuries. but as saint descends the rubble and approaches him, i think he's okay with it. he wants to go home [to his parents, to his friends, to his wife...]

22 - Where does your iterator live? Describe the region.

HIS REGIONS ARE SOOO FUN I THINK...... his can is built partially over the sea!!!!!! and underneath his can is reef's hometown, a once prosperous and bustling port city that was crushed under the rains during sparks' time and abandoned. but i think you can still kind of tell it used to be like this... there's probably a really cool sub region in there thats an old temple. its probably pretty flooded and stuff too... idk the contrast is fun to me....

towards the west you can find the decayed old docks which lead into the sea itself.... i really should develop a sea-living scug for the area because god is it so cool to me, going into the colorful depths... HOWEVER ! as for navigating the region you still CAN because of the WHALE SAILS !!! WOOOO.

they're GIANT ass creatures originally bioengineered to function similarly to the sky sails [thank you cheston druidshollow for making them biological its so cool] but... for water. they lsot their purpose a while ago when the great equalizer set in and it became too dangerous to navigate the surface but they're still very friendly and okay with slugcat getting a ride. probably function similarly to rain deer... maybe they eat glow weed? idk. probably some kind of filter feeder.

his underhang/leg region is also called the frets. aren't i so clever. iirc i called his wall the neck at some point too. hehehe instrument analogies. and his city is named Chorus and is probably similar to most besides all the decor and murals and music-making stuff like wind chimes everywhere still left behind. he doesn't mind scavs and stuff up there.

[automatayaoi]

*throws a dozen dress up clowns at your head* Character design!!! murder puppet apologism!!! chemicals turning frogs gay!!! its kero kero time!!!! i dont know how to type up a real bio so im just throwing tidbits fullspeed at your window and also partially me spitballing speghetti against the wall

✨ their name is kero pierrot ofc, and they are a funny little frog clown married to arlequino hehe. keeping with the theme of commedia dell'arte their name is based off the character of the pierrot (and it's also a pun on keroppi since theyre my favorite sanrio character waha)

✨ the Pierrot was a tragic and lovesick figure, portrayed as naïve but endearing, often hiding their true feelings behind their jokes, and was a popular choice for romantic artists

✨ kero is a widdle bit fucked up in the brain zone but its FIIINE just slap a coat of face paint on there and ur good 8) Do not perceive the crushing mental illness behind the curtain

✨ grew up in america ofc, came to japan for reasons that turned out to be highly fallible (they maybe trust people a little too easily), refuses 2 talk abt this, they are however lacking in places to stay and money to spend so start of everything theyre Struggling A Little

✨ at this point they arent even kero really just Person...pathetic sopping wet frog you find under a rock. they had a special interest in clownery but always sort of put those kinds of thoughts to the side as more of a silly daydream than a goal they could achieve

✨ a clown without its nose have you ever seen anything so sad

✨ they first see masaru and the rest of the nakamichi circus when they saw them perform their street show (starting here), they just happened to be in the park at the time, and it's honestly the first time kero has felt happy since they Arrived in japan

✨ magic of the circus

✨ they spend the next few weeks going to the park and sorta following the nakamichi circus around to see more of their street shows, they don't really have much else to do anyway, they might as well spend some time having fun watching a circus act

✨ they attend so many that they actually start getting recognized by some of the circus members, especially masaru and shirogane since theyre very Perceptive. not a lot of details on those thoughts currently but masaru probably does his Main Protag/Therapist thing and gets to know kero

✨ BUT the way they actually join the nakamichi circus is during the performers meetup (starting here), kero goes to see their show again, but then things start Going Very Wrong and masaru's left by himself with no one to perform with. Little guy problems

✨ they've seen how much masaru and the others have been working and struggling in the past weeks, improving their street show, their cooperation with each other, and even if masaru hadn't talked to them they couldn't stand seeing something that made them so happy go down in flames like this

✨ SO! they hop in with vilma naota and mitsuushi to save the act! they don't have circus training like them so they can't do any fancy acts, but kero knows how to improv and roll with the punches, so they play off of the others as second zanni to liven up the show

✨ after that, i think they'd try to slip away quietly (kind of cant believe they did that) but masaru goes after them and asks them to join the circus!

✨ he knows that they wanted to be a clown, and even without formal training, he thinks having a western style clown will help the nakamichi circus stand out from the crowd! (also a call back to this moment in the manga when they went to see the straw circus)

✨ this is when they actually introduce themselves as Kero Pierrot to the others. there is no other name only Clown

✨ this has been a lot of masaru talk so far sorry he's my little buddy inflicted with main character disease. also i dont get a chance to meet my husband until like chapter 380 so i gotta be doin smth in the mean time

✨ from here on, kero sticks with the nakamichi circus as their new home :) they already knew a lot about clowning, but they really throw themselves into studying it as best they can (usually by spending hours at a library computer since most don't really have a textbook on clowns) and also training with the other members to sorta expand their repertoire. they get a lot better at the classic clown skills, your juggling, your balloon animals, what have you, BUT they also start to learn the cyr wheel!

✨ kero and masaru bond over doing circus training together. i give him a little noogie.

✨ they become pretty close with ryouko and lise too !! i jus love all my circus family i get them to play board games with me

✨ Peaceful Life (Until Its Not)

✨ this post as already gotten so long (and also i wanna reread some parts of the manga to refresh my mindself) so at some point i will expand on kero's feelings irt masaru running away and narumi joining nakamichi circus, but theres a couple other important points i want to make :V

✨ kero sorta takes a back seat with the rest of the nakamichi gang until they show up at kuroga village

✨ Specifically they join lise heima and ryouko in going to mont-saint-michel to follow masaru (they are NOT!!! letting these children go off on their own to fight!!!!)

💕 this is when they meet arlequino hehe 💕

✨ they stay by ryouko's side while they fucking Book It form the shirogane-o, and that's when they run into arle

💕 sorry ryouko but I'M the one who smiles at him 💕

✨ i should make a separate post of the manga panels i'm def in. and/or rewrite the scene as a fic which i might do at some point but just wait

💕 anyway this post is long enough so all you have to know is we get married and now hes my malewife Arlequino Pierrot 💕

💕 tagging my karakuri buddies @dissonantyote @lameassboyfriend (i hope dats oke)

[sepublic]

Congratulations on the Boscha validation. This episode was a treat in so many ways.

Pal lemme tell you. Back in Season 1B I was a BIG Boscha fan, in part because she had just enough to work with, but also enough empty space for me to speculate freely as I wanted. So I write what was originally my longest TOH fic at the time (and would be for two and a half years, until I finished Understanding Luz last week), and I’m really happy with it. Sure it was released like the day before Agony of a Witch, which I KNEW would probably distract. But honestly I just couldn’t think of a better time so I did it anyway.

That said, I wasn’t getting my hopes up. I had a feeling and wouldn’t have been surprised if the show would move on from Boscha, who’d serve her purpose. If it had more grandiose storylines to pursue than a Grudgby bully’s, so when Season 2 aired in its entirety and she faded into background obscurity, I accepted it! It is how it is, Hexside wasn’t even meant to be as prominent until executive meddling, and even then Boscha wasn’t THAT prominent there anyhow. When she didn’t even appear in Labyrinth Runners, I shrugged because that was that.

But literally the day For the Future aired, I was waiting in anticipation for the release that night and I skimmed through my old Boscha fic for the first time in forever. Reminisced thoughtfully, nostalgically, and ultimately was like Yeah I don’t expect her to show up at this point beyond a cameo, but it was fun imagining and hoping for this type of arc for her back in the days of Season 1B. I’d noticed Amelia and Cat’s presence as puppets in a previous official trailer, thought it was cool because of my Boscha fic and all, but didn’t think it’d GO anywhere, right?

And then I began watching For the Future. I see Boscha, Amelia, and Cat in Skara’s story. I’m already hyped for the cameo of seeing them trying to defend Hexside and failing of course, because we’d already seen Cat and Amelia as puppets earlier the episode. But then Boscha manages to avoid being turned into a puppet, is even saved with the sacrifice of her friends! And then she gets away when the adults charge in as backup! And I’m like okay, so she’s still at Hexside!

AND THEN THE REVELATION THAT BOSCHA IS IN CHARGE. And her whole subplot with Kikimora, her obvious apprehension over losing Cat and Amelia, especially after Amity and then Skara. AND THEN HER TALK WITH WILLOW, the parallels, the callout, because the writers are still interested in that history! And not just Boscha’s history with Willow but with AMITY, as Boscha becomes a bit of an antagonist...

And then she kneels. And suddenly my speculation/fanon of Boscha having this deeply unrequited crush on Amity, this unhealthy admiration and hero worship upon a pedestal. It was canon. The unhealthy co-dependency of it all, Boscha didn’t even want to be the one in charge in their friendship, as long as Amity was by her side! She was fine with being the lackey to Amity, just like Jasper and Lapis from Steven Universe, who I def pulled inspiration from in writing I thought we were Friends. 

The way Amity still has this obvious power and growth over Boscha, who isn’t exactly a threat to her, but definitely an obstacle. The gentle yet firm way she reminds Boscha that yeah, they do have a messed up history and she can see the issues that Boscha struggles with, she was a bully herself! But ultimately Boscha is her own person and Amity implores her to take responsibility and mature as she did... AND SHE DOES!!! She helps our kids hold back Kikimora, just enough for them to barely teleport to the skull in time!

Then the end credits, THAT image of Boscha, lonely, scared, isolated. Being ‘consoled’ by Kikimora, unable to participate in the antics of these losers around her because she’s still so insistent on being strong and without vulnerability. The implication that she gave into Kiki’s advice, because despite her general disdain for authority, deep down I read this as being due to authority’s failure to take care of her. 

But Boscha still wanted and needed a benevolent authority in the absence of actual parental love, which was why she latched onto Amity so hard. And then accepts Kikimora, because her hyper-aggression and independence is all just a coping mechanism over the sense of loneliness and parentification that Boscha’s suffered through. How her past forced Boscha to grow up fast to take care of herself, but she craves someone who can take care of her, guide her, because she’s so tired of doing that for others when she’s never been on the receiving end!

She’s just a deeply troubled kid. There was more to her than just mean high school bully, not that she wasn’t that either, but. Everything in For the Future, her storyline and resolution with Amity, the scenes with Willow. It felt like the PERFECT redemption and recovery ending that I thought we were Friends didn’t have, but could’ve, left open-ended due to the possibilities of canon. And canon delivered...!

Considering the writers put Boscha to the side for a whole season, with a very limited Season 3 to work with, I never imagined her getting a redemption arc of her own, an acknowledgement of her pain, a canonization of her codependency and twisted worship of Amity, and deep-down need for someone to rely on herself. Boscha’s not important enough, there’s not enough time, they wouldn’t prioritize her anyway. But they did and I’m ELATED for it, I wonder if part of the Doylist reasoning was gratitude towards Eden Riegel (Boscha’s VA) and her work in directing the entire voice cast of TOH. And/or if this was always planned...

Either way, with Eden being our only source of Boscha breadcrumbs throughout Season 2 during her appearances in Cissy’s Post-Hoots, and... This really is a dream come true for me, as was Edric’s storyline in Reaching Out. The minor characters I projected a lot of fanon and characterization and backstory onto, ultimately my fanfics for them DID pay off! The reading and speculation was confirmed! And it is SUCH a treat as someone who’s been engaging with and analyzing this show since it was first announced in 2018, you cannot believe how rewarding it feels. 

Season 3′s titles spell out Thanks For Watching, and it honestly does feel as if this Boscha arc was a bone thrown out to her fans and those long-time viewers who engaged with the show that deeply, as thanks for sticking it through the whole way and treating TOH with so much love. And I have to say, THANK YOU to the crew members who made the show to begin with...!

[deathfavor]

@deiscension said: This should have been an easy mission. An overachieving cultivator had gotten his hands on a stray spiritual device in the shape of a locket. As soon as he had clasped it around his neck, it had nearly choked all his qi and very life from him. Show up, scold him a little under the guise of being an official from a neighboring sect, confiscate. Down and back with enough time to spare for a nice dinner and a few rounds of wine (their treat of course, which was obviously why they'd dragged their best friend into it)! Except-- it hadn't been a spiritual device. It had been a possessed charm. As soon as the hapless cultivator touched it, he ceased to exist. They'd never seen anything quite like this before; a puppeteered corpse gnashing its teeth at anything close enough to bite, practically ripping itself apart just to get to something with a stronger, healthier source of spiritual energy. Too many mortals had tried their luck already. The moment anyone made physical contact with the body, their meridians bled like opened veins.

Shi Qingxuan had been so sure the blast from Ming Yi had knocked the thing senseless. While cooing about how dependable their best friend was, they'd reached down to undo the locket. He'd warned them to wait a moment. Of course they hadn't listened. They should have just broken the chain. They should have kept their eyes on the body. They should have taken caution for once. Instead, they'd cried, "Ming-xiong, you really are too rough!" as soon as his hand had closed around their arm and yanked. But they hadn't. And now he was sprawled against the shack wall, pulsing rends in his neck where that horrible thing's fingernails had raked into his flesh.

Only now do they take proper precaution and summon a whirling gale to keep the possessed corpse suctioned to the floor. Locket in hand, they rush to his side. Their stomach twists. Ashen discoloration spreads from his wounds. They've only ever seen this color on ghosts.

The memory of a voice dripping in perverse hunger leers in their ear. Your closest friends will die because of you.

Their form switches back in an instant, fan clattering to the ground at the Earth Master's as Shi Qingxuan drops to their knees in front of him. They're the Wind Master now! There's not a single person or force in the world that would dare touch them or theirs. That wretched thing went silent centuries ago. Besides, Reverends couldn't bring harm to gods. Unless every event in their life leading to this moment had been carefully woven into their fate as soon as they'd taken heed of that damned curse. What a silly idea. So silly they can't help but laugh- a strangled noise that's more of a whine than anything else.

Heartbeat pounding against their skull, Shi Qingxuan gingerly presses the back of their hand to his forehead. Residual qi deviation rips through their veins like a knife through delicate silk. They swallow down the urge to vomit and focus on buffeting his deviated energy against theirs. The wounds are already closing. But he's still so pale. So still. So... dead.

"Ming Yi?" Their voice hasn't been this small in a long, long time. They try not to think about how similar this abode is to that forgotten little house at the foot of a mountain somewhere far away. "Look at me. Please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, it's my fault- scold me all you want, a-alright?"

my muse take a hit to protect your muse from a fatal strike ; send your muse's reaction

Black Water Submerging Ships could crush this pest with no problem. He could devour it, obliterate it, there were a million and one things he could do. But Ming Yi is not a fighter and Ming Yi is ALIVE rather than DEAD. So He Xuan needs to play the part, he shields Shi Qingxuan the moment he sees that they are not listening to his advice. Too playful and careless. It is a good thing that He Xuan did so too, because pain flares in his throat as fingernails dig into flesh and rip.

He slumps against the shack, and he can feel the disguise he dons start to fracture in the way of the unexpected pain. Anger gnashes in his chest, like the ocean trying to be captured by a dam. It slams against his ribcage and adds to the spasms in his throat alongside the pulsing wounds. He's forgotten to breath. But in the grand scheme, such a small thing is likely to go unnoticed. He a least recalls to keep some of the body heat going, so he does not appear as cold as he really is.

He feels their touch against him as he sits, black veil of hair heavy around them. Checking he's alive. Which is hilarious, He Xuan can't help but to bitterly think while is eyes stay closed. ( For the best, or he fears the ocean's rage would reflect in his gaze. ) He hasn't been alive for a very long time now, and he hasn't been without pain for even longer. All his power as a Ghost King and he suffers still, and he had suffered long before he choked out his final breath on a rainy, muddy street, bleeding out from his wounds.

But then they try to help and it burns. Even as flesh knits back together and starts to turn back to a normal flesh color rather than the corpse-like color, the aid only makes him sick to his stomach. It's not the same as simply transferring spiritual energy. It's so much more than that and it takes everything to keep himself under control when everything makes feel like he's straining against chains.

Shi Qingxuan calls his name and his eyelashes finally flutter, opening so a slit of golden eyes could be observed. He doesn't want to look at them. He wants to destroy that insolent, mindless spirit, and then slink away into the ocean. He wants to go back to his mansion or into the welcoming depths of his ocean. Maybe he'd play with his dragons but he'd prefer to sleep a few days in the heavy waters that offer silence and peace. He won't get that though. Shi Qingxuan is going to fret, which means Ming Yi can't go off like he usually does.

He Xuan forces his eyes to lift to look towards Shi Qingxuan.

" I told you to be careful. " He scolds, but it's weak and quiet, lacking his stern strength. A hand lifts, gently pushing away their hand from his head. ( Gently? Or weakly? Only he knew. ) " Go deal with the corpse and locket first. I'll be fine. Those two things should be your priority. " It's a quick reminder, his gaze shifting to the trapped corpse and then towards the locket with a pointed expression. His hand nudges them again, urging them back to get to work. " Once you're done with that, then you can come help. I won't accept any more till you do. " He adds. Maybe the idea that the sooner they did that meant the sooner they could help Ming Yi would be motive enough. "

The rage still snarls like a provoked animal and it clouds his thoughts. He is tired. He waits until Shi Qingxuan is focused on the other tasks before he lets himself sink into it. He's maintained the disguise long enough that it can be maintained in his sleep. At least a quick nap should held settle the rage beating in his chest like a war drum.

When Shi Qingxuan looks over, they'll find he's slid to his side, slumped on the ground with closed eyes. But he's breathing, and the wounds are little other than fading marks. He is, however, unusually cool to the touch and his complexion remains pale overall. Healthier than before, but certainly not great.

[futurefind]

" at least i have you to look after me, eh? " from cyrillo for sa :’ ))

“𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥” 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴. / accepting // @tvrningout

She sees red— literally— and her mind goes white. She focuses on what's important— what actually matters— and squashes everything else— the worry, the panic, the terror, the urge to cry and scream and throw up, the ghosts suddenly suffocating her— into a far off corner of her mind so she can get to work.

She doesn't remember much after that, but also remembers every breath with an eye-seering clarity. The reek of blood. How he was colder than he should've been. Crimson embedding itself in the cracks of her skin, under her nails. Every single stitch and plaster and bruise and scrape.

How she can't close her eyes, for even a blink, lest she see the life drain from his. Keeps checking and double checking and triple checking his face to make sure it isn't so, no matter how briefly.

After an eternity, after a blink of an eye, she's done.

She excuses herself to the bathroom (she thinks she says to clean up), and regrets it immediately. It hits her like a horsekick to the chest, she can't breathe she can't breathe she can't breathe— and she barely keeps herself from sending her fist through the mirror (and, changes are, into the wall behind it). She hates looking at herself, on a good day, and now—

Now she'd failed. Again. There's blood on her hands and it's not hers, because it's never hers. It's all for her but it's not hers, and it should be hers, it should've always been hers, the blood on her clothes and the eyes going lifeless. Why isn't it hers?!

Why is she—

She shoves the wind back into her lungs like gathering broken glass with naked hands, and pulls herself back outside. She doesn't think she actually got to cleaning. She just knows seeing Cyrillo again, like this, rips her heart out of her chest. But him still being here, gaze alive, lets it continue to beat — no matter how atrocious and gorey of a thing it is. That she is.

Sasume feels about as old as Cyrillo presumably is, maybe older, but without any immortality or undeath to keep her going. Like a puppet with its strings cut and joints rotted and clogged still trying to drag itself through its cues as if there's any audience left.

She sits at his bedside again, silently. Doesn't remember doing it. Can only stare at the spark in his eyes until she's seeing through them, seeing nothing at all, as if pretending to keep him out of her nightmares could ever keep him from joining the graveyard at her feet, pumping through her veins. Keeping her alive, no matter what she says or wishes or wills otherwise — because she's never had a choice.

" — at least i have you to look after me, eh? "

And she wheezes, chest crushing in on her ribs and heart and soul so suddenly and so fiercely once more that the world starts to spin. Heat floods her skin even as her blood runs ice cold, and acid creeps up her chest. Her vision blurs, and she isn't sure if the world is shaking or if her bones are.

"Don't—" she chokes on a sob, wetness leaking out of her eyes, and presses the hand she'd been gripping tight against her forehead instead of her own. She gasps, a keening, pathetic thing, and sees more than feels the tears pouring out.

It's not fair, she thinks, both distantly and as deafening as a thunderclap. She's not sure if she means this, or all the bodies piled up in her heart. If it's his being hurt, or that she's not hurt, or that taking all the gods damned blades and bites and bruises in the world can't spare those closest to her even a single one— no matter how much she wants otherwise.

"Don't—" she can't get anything else out. Doesn't even think there'd be a point. Even if, already, it feels like she's begging. For him to not play light, maybe, but also for the gods to maybe— maybe— show her even the slightest of favor and make it so this wasn't so. That maybe—

"I should've been there," she chokes out, nonsensically, world blurring again, pressing the back of his hand even harder against her own skin. If she gives even the slightest inch, even now, who's to say he won't slip through her fingers a final time?

"I should've...—" and finally, curled over herself like that, at Cyrillo's bedside as he warms her own damned bed, she weeps.

[ryttu3k]

A selection of moments from my last session/s of Tavias' run. All spoilery for endgame. Image-heavy, used all 30 image slots.

"When I said I wanted to get more in touch with my draconic ancestry, this was not what I had in mind."

This is an interesting example because Tavias was in this situation. Two days ago. And his exact response was, "Actually, I would rather die than become a monster under a more powerful being's thrall."

Not capped: *gross sobbing over Dear Ansur*

Not capped: Just for the record, the line that officially pushed Astarion from approval 99 to approval 100 was:

Halsin: "Perhaps you'd care for a little extra company..."

Tavias: "The more the merrier!"

Astarion: *approves*

(I hc he's quietly nursing a raging crush on Halsin and the V relationship absolutely has the potential to turn into a full triangle, and not just because I'm hopeless for Halstarion.)

I really wish you could talk to Astarion about this later. I'm very glad you can talk to Halsin, but this should be addressed too! I'm glad he feels confident and safe enough to push his own boundaries, I just really wish we could like... check in on him and make sure he's doing okay. See also: helping Halsin recognise that what happened to him was trauma.

Seven years too late (he was seventeen years old, Ulder), but finally some parental approval!

<3

Not capped: the forehead touch after the kiss with Halsin is. Goddamn adorable ;_;

Genuinely motivational tbh

This is what we call an, "Ah fuck" moment.

Okay so. Orin basically saved the world.

Like obviously the Brain breaking free from the influence of the crown is a bad thing. But consider the alternative - a Brain who willingly follows the Dark Urge. A Brain who doesn't rebel, that rebellion leading to its ultimate downfall. A Brain who does follow the Dark Urge is a Brain in a world where Bhaal wins.

But Orin was jealous. Orin wanted her father's love. Orin attacks her sibling, and that sibling wakes up and goes, actually, you know what? I don't think I do want to be Bhaal's puppet for the rest of my existence, and the world is saved.

Dude there are plenty of other options that don't involve that. What is wrong with you.

Not capped: Beorn Wunterbrood being like, "Balduran's grace be with you" and Tavias just going, "......yeahhhhh haha about that, there's a non-zero chance we're gonna have to kill Balduran. Just. Just so you know."

You got it, boss. #ResistDurgeIsChosenOfJergalTruther

Not capped: "I always dreamed of walking these halls, you know. My dreams never included a giant brain or smoldering ruins, but I'll take what I can get~" I <3 him what a goddamn dork.

Not capped: you know this is the part where I'd have to be like. Yeah you guys go ahead. Yeah I'm gonna sit this one out. Why? Well, do I look like I can climb the giant squishy completely vertical tube while it actively tries to fly? No no if someone can teleport me up I can fight but otherwise I may have to sit this one out.

For the first time... quiet at last.

Oh this shit hurts ;_;

He chose against apotheosis this time <3 I can only surmise that what happened in Tae's run was that saying, no, fuck Mystra, you don't owe her anything, made him decide to act against her? This is still... not necessarily a great ending for Gale, because it still requires capitulating to the desires of his abuser, even if it does mean being free of the Orb (and not becoming Cringegod(tm). It's the best possible ending for him, yes, but I wish there was an option for him to acknowledge that what Mystra did to him was awful and he didn't deserve to be treated like that, and be able to reject the Crown.

Not capped: still! goddamn! hate! how Astarion running from the sun is almost played for laughs! I got Gale's line in this one and hearing how dismissive and flippant it is compared to what'll be the new line, where he sounds genuinely horrified and worried and openly states they'll need to be a good friend to him and offer him comfort, is... god. Dramatic difference. "Welp, that's the last we'll see of him!" that original line is so wrong ;_;

Glad she was able to make the decision herself. Forcing her just feels wrong.

I like this <3 Halsin still carries out his dream, but the relationship doesn't end, it's just. Long-distance, haha.

It's interesting how this plays out if you do Halsin poly, because it has the scene of Halsin waking up next to the PC, they talk about where things go, they walk off hand in hand... then it has the scene of Astarion waking up next to the PC, they talk about... etc XD I'd love if they included a poly option with all three of them, so you can get just the Halsin one, or just the Astarion one, or one where you talk to both at the same time. IIRC the only relationships where you can do Halsin poly is with Astarion or Shadowheart, so that's only two extra scenes they'd have to work out! It just feels a bit awkward as it is, with both scenes playing one after the other?

Anyway. The Astarion scene <3 This is the bit where I got all misty-eyed because. The reflection of, "What do you want?" "You. I want... you", and the beautiful Durge-specific line of being able to choose family... ;_;

They absolutely get together while in Avernus <3

Final decisions: Orpheus requests a merciful death, which Tavias provides. Lae'zel chooses to go to war. Gale returns the crown to Mystra. Wyll offers to accompany Karlach to Avernus, and she chooses to accept. Halsin goes to start a new community for those in need, with his relationship with Tavias continuing. Tavias and Astarion stay together and look for a way for Astarion to walk in the sun again.

There will be a separate post just for the epilogue, once I sort the, uh, 723 screencaps I took for it!