#not to mention talking about it and engaging with it in any capacity allows her to profit. like. literally just stop. it is not hard

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I was a bit surprised to see that mhj specifically said that newjeans had approved the statement saying that belift had copied newjeans' concept with illit. I'm not the type of person that thinks that you're a bitch for asserting position or your value, so this isn't where I'm coming from, but, especially in an industry where it's so rare to see groups say anything negative about other groups, particular junior groups I would think, it was quite the strong, swift position to take. Do you foresee newjeans continuing to engage publicly with this scandal, and how would you think taking an active part in this would affect their brand?

*

Ask 2:

bp in your opinion is there any chance that in this Hybe/MHJ situation there's a buried kind of double-blind motivation?

Like the kind i've seen attributed to E|on Musk, where he creates a big scandal to provide cover when he's doing something much shadier (and then maybe it gets out of hand, like the TwiX thing lol)

You've said you're pretty familar with the corporate side machinations - could Hybe be purposefully airing all this, sure to stick it to MHJ, but also to temporarily drive down stock prices for idk easy shares-repurchasing? Or even allowing a mess they can blame for having to report lower numbers to shareholders for whatever reason: boycott actually impacting profit, hedging against lower-than-predicted bts returning numbers, etc.

Or is this too convoluted of conspiracy thinking and BPD/HYBE/MHJ, and by extension from your recent posts basically 'corporate kpop' entire, are really just that transparent and petty?

*

Ask 3:

Might be a stupid question because I honestly don't have any clue about corporate businesses and how they work. But in the light of this scandal and how BigHit/Hybe developed over the last years: would you say this is what you get when you become too greedy instead of concentrating on what you were good at?

*

Ask 4:

in your opinion, is mhj truly an indispensable part of newjeans creative output? Also, do you see any way that hybe would let newjeans leave with its name and discography if they try to break their contract to go with mhj like some people are saying?

*

Ask 5:

I’m seeing a lot of discussion about whether newjeans will try to leave with mhj and break their contract with hybe, but I don’t see this as a realistic scenario, and I especially don’t see hybe letting them leave with their name and discography. You mentioned that there are a limited set of options now, but is this even one of them? In my mind, newjeans as a concept either stays at hybe, with or without mhj in whatever capacity, or can’t really exist legally

*

Ask 6:

Also this has given everyone (kpop stans, ARMYs, journalists) the go ahead to drag Newjeans in order to "defend" Illit, BTS, Riize, etc by throwing (again) dozens of plagiarism accusations and trying to discredit everything the group has done and achieved. And it was started by Hybe themselves... I have no words, bpp

***

I think these six asks capture most of the talking points in the asks I've received since yesterday, so I'll use these to answer your questions.

The sheer amount of spin happening in the media right now is ridiculous lmaoo. With the mention of BTS in the "escape files", ARMYs have predictably moved from shady bystanders to actively joining in the negative spin, spreading rumor articles and many are now attacking the girls themselves. But honestly, this is nothing less than what I expected. NewJeans is the most popular group in Korea, the 2nd most valuable IP only behind BTS, and Min Heejin is the brains behind the operation - an achievement she's insisted on taking full credit for since inception. Leaving the only option for whoever is masterminding this from within and outside HYBE, to destroy her reputation as an executive completely to diminish her value to outside investors, and weaken the fan support for NewJeans given how closely they are already associated with MHJ. And that's what is happening. It impacts every group at HYBE and nearly obliterates the viability of NewJeans.

For HYBE, it's a tolerable loss given there's only one year left before BTS returns and closes that earnings gap in mere months. Whoever took this action sees it simply as resulting in a numerical loss that can be soon corrected, but personally, I disagree, for the same reasons I objected to HYBE's acquisition of SM even though on paper it made numerical sense.

Anon in ask 1: I can understand your surprise but sad as it is to say, I expected that response from MHJ. She's a creative, not a PR exec or an MBA-credentialled suit. I'm not sure how familiar you are with ADOR's press releases in general, but anybody who reads them can tell there's almost no corporate doublespeak, no vague allusions, nothing that shows it's written by a typical media-trained PR person. Which is why most people, including you, take that statement to mean NewJeans agrees with MHJ that Illit copied them (it's a possibility), when in reality the language shows it could refer to them agreeing with MHJ's assertion that HYBE hasn't duly responded to her requests about inter-label discrimination, or other related matters. That's the kind of detail a trained PR person would be sure to include, to minimize the fallout to NJ, but just as with the press release on Cookie, the one on Minji's rival sasaeng, the response to Hyein's veneer rumours, and practically every press release ADOR has put out, the language is unsophisticated.

"Do you foresee newjeans continuing to engage publicly with this scandal, and how would you think taking an active part in this would affect their brand?"

NewJeans has so far not engaged publicly with this scandal. MHJ has mentioned them to signal any separation between them will likely be contested. It's leverage. If they do take an active part in this scandal, it will completely destroy their brand. Like, it's already on life support. Anything more and we might as well say their last rites.

*

Anon in ask 2: I'd say that's not a conspiracy exactly but it is kinda pushing it. Anytime there's a stock dip it's a buying opportunity, and HYBE is always guaranteed to be a Buy so long as BTS is slated to return within 12 months of the stock event. But we simply don't have any clear indications that's the case now given the timing doesn't quite line up. If anything, that is more like the 4th order side-effect.

And yeah, people on the corporate side, not just in k-pop, are many times just that petty. But it's also true this case has been sensationalized in particular ways to appeal to k-pop stans specifically.

*

Anons in ask 4 & 5: The options available are:

MHJ leaves HYBE and NewJeans stays in HYBE

MHJ leaves HYBE and NewJeans leaves with her

MHJ stays in HYBE but is demoted from her exec role and NewJeans stays in HYBE

MHJ stays in HYBE and keeps her exec role and NewJeans stays in HYBE

None of these options are good, but the worst of these evils is option 2. If the members attempt to leave with her, there's no pretty way to say this, but they'll be done. I'm not even going to waste time writing all the ways HYBE and k-pop stans as a whole will rip them to shreds, all I'll say is that whoever is attached to these girls should consider taking a 6 months sabbatical away from k-pop entirely once that news breaks. The law is not on their side and public opinion, especially after all the 'leaks' and spin from HYBE in the last 72 hours, certainly isn't on their side either. It would be career suicide.

"in your opinion, is mhj truly an indispensable part of newjeans creative output?"

Personally, I think yes. Every label at HYBE had similar initial monetary investment as NewJeans and ADOR had, and other groups from the Big 3 have had even bigger investments and resources at their disposal. There isn't a single group, both within HYBE and outside HYBE, that has yielded the same results as NewJeans in the same period of time. Illit comes close, but even with their achievements they haven't reached the same (positive) notoriety as NewJeans did at debut. All HYBE groups have access to HYBE's youtube channel, connections and resources, and yet the achievements of BOYNEXTDOOR, LE SSERAFIM, ENHYPEN, and even ILLIT, are nowhere near comparable to that of NewJeans. And I agree with MHJ that she's the primary reason why. Having access to resources is only one part of the equation. How you allocate those resources and what you do with it is far more important, and this is where MHJ and ADOR excels relative to other sub-labels.

NewJeans without MHJ will not be nearly as threatening to everyone else in k-pop, and I suspect this is one reason there have been calls for her to be removed from managing the group since their debut.

*

Anons in ask 3 & 6: Yeah there's a fair bit of greed on show here. Generally, for a lot of people in this industry, greed is good... unless the greedy person is a woman. Because the only thing more central to nasty corporate tussles like this, more than greed, is ego.

I'm not trying to play the gender card, but sometimes I do wonder why there are no articles like this about people like Jaden Jeong and Simon Jakob given the reputation those men have in corporate circles, where top officials (in this case, within HYBE) are saying they cannot possibly work with MHJ because she is "overly and excessively opinionated". I'm highlighting this article because despite the initial paragraphs of spin, that bit is the only thing consistent with MHJ's claim that this attack from HYBE started because she'd filed a whistleblowing report on toxic inter-label competition and followed up an email that said quote:

"..is this deliberate obtuseness and unapologetic behaviour consistent with HYBE's founding philosophy of rebelling against unfair practices in the entertainment industry?"

I mean... in corporate Korea, I can see how they were sick of her shit and it was only a matter of time before she got the boot.

The insidious thing about spin is that it mixes the truth with lies, making it easy for people to accept it wholly. It's entirely possible that MHJ wants more compensation, more autonomy and independence, feels that Belift and other companies borrowed her ideas without full credit, and that she was unsupported by HYBE HQ. It's entirely possible that she took actions such as monitoring fan feedback of the group(s) she suspects and filing a whistleblowing report to build a case - according to both MHJ and others at HYBE, these are complaints she's apparently had since last year, but none of those things would justify HYBE's response nor is it enough to turn people against her.

What I find particularly interesting about this case, is that everything that decisively incriminates her of the more sensational and sinister allegations, comes from the person of VP L or CEO A - a person who only joined ADOR in January 2024, shortly after which HYBE received their first tip-off that MHJ was planning to escape. It's VP L who titles documents with the equivalent of "TOP SECRET DO NOT TOUCH" on company computers... the same guy that's supposedly a double agent working in favour of MHJ and ADOR but is situated within ADOR, not HYBE, where simple logic shows he'd be most useful. Unless he's situated right where he's supposed to be.

Anyway...

HYBE has requested for a shareholder meeting on April 30th where they'll likely table the motion for MHJ to resign regardless of what's found in the audit. Far as I know, she's completed the audit questionnaire but not surrendered her laptop as HYBE has requested. Given the play is for HYBE to kick her out while continuing to manage NJ, I can see how she'd rather die than surrender her laptop and hand over her ideas (and potentially incriminating info) to HYBE on a silver platter for them to use in her wake.

Every way this shakes out is bad news for HYBE groups IMO. So long as NewJeans keeps quiet and sides with HYBE, they'll be somewhat okay. But regardless of the fallout from HYBE cannibalizing itself, all HYBE groups have no choice but to take it on the chin and bide their time until BTS comes back to capture the attention back to them.

I hope I answered all your questions. IMO there's really no point talking more about this until there's a firm conclusion.

[decepti-geek]

rewatching Cinderella 2015 for the howevermanyth time and THIS TIME the part that made me weepy was when the fairy godmother first showed up in her disguise.

Because in the original Disney version, and honestly in most versions - whether it's a fairy godmother or the birds/her mum/etc - the wish-granting entity coming to her aid in the moment is, I think, generally framed as a reciprocation for her determination to do good deeds in all the moments of her life leading up to this one. Then the animated Disney also film adds a line that makes it explicitly an identity crisis, where she's in danger of losing her faith that there's good in the world and that that matters, so the fairy godmother comes along to help restore her faith right when she's about to lose it. And that's a decent enough upbeat kind of story to tell in itself.

But in the live action film!! The fairy godmother doesn't even reveal who she is until after she's tested Cinderella one more time, right in the depths of her crisis of faith. I've always loved that moment cause obviously it alludes to traditional fairy folklore in a way that adds a smidge more depth and mystery to the way the magic works than you typically get in a Disney movie, so for me it's one of the little details that makes this like. just a really good fantasy/fairytale movie that's less of a Disney Movie™️.

And then on this rewatch, it's hit me that it isn't only about like... proving to Ella that she's not alone in the world, that kindred spirits who share her values do exist, with a dash of fairy folklore sprinkled on top. I never caught it before because I don't think Ella catches it herself at the time (she talks about magic not existing after the godmother pointedly mentions kindness, and those two concepts are pretty much fused together for the purposes of this film) - but the request for a cup of milk, made whilst Ella is still crying, is made in order to prove to her that kindness doesn't just exist in other people who also value it and will support her when she struggles to believe that's true. That part would be proved by the godmother just revealing herself immediately.

The request proves that kindness still exists in Ella. That even when she's in the absolute depths of despair, she has the capacity to practice kindness, and doing so comes so naturally even in her worst moments that she needs someone else to point out what it actively signifies. That even when she doesn't consciously believe in it, she does it regardless, so she really has no need to fear losing her faith. The existence of kindness isn't dependent on her faith in it, because it exists in her no matter what. And that's as much of a reward for her as the dress and the carriage and the shoes and it's one that goes deeper than building up enough Good Person Points to afford fairy gifts, because it's one which engages with who she is in the moments outside of her kindness, and which shows her that she's allowed those moments too, without it meaning that her capacity for kindness is in any way diminished.

[nikethestatue]

You know, with how good a job bb and sarah are doing at killing the online fandom engagement, I would almost think it was purposeful at this point.

I mean, perhaps thats how they have choosen to deal with this mess. Starve it out and then re cultivate later when the book is ready.

I think it’s pretty bad when I can overhear people talking in a bookstore near the sjm table about how “no i haven’t read these yet but i heard the online fandom is awful” and then watch as they cringe and move on to browse another table.

I've wondered that as well. Do they want to mostly depend on the new readers and the oldies who stuck around? Are they afraid of alienating a bunch of fans, though I think they'd be alienated no matter what.

SJM has never expressed any love or paid Gwyn any heed. The 2 times she mentioned her was in regards to questions from others.

To me, her reticence is pretty telling--she is not wasting her time with secondary characters in ACOTAR. However, all of this would've been resolved a million years ago if she'd just say--Elain's book is next. Now, it's a mess and I think maybe she and BB dont want to deal with it in any capacity. So they hope it will just disappear. OR maybe she is just frustrated and said to herself--i've dropped a million hints, i've never made any allusion to Gwyn being an FMC, it's been clear from the beginning that the books will be about the sisters. If you insist on not listening to me, then that's on you.

I don't know. If I were her, I am not sure what my course of action would've been. To just say 'this is what it is' or allow those who want to gaslight themselves continue on doing so.

[thevindicativevordan]

Comics this week ?

Action Comics #1069 - Enjoyable enough finale. Dug this arc, besides the Ali homages mentioned already, I saw a lot of similarities to the boxing issue from Up in the Sky! Superman up against a foe who seemingly can't be beat, that he defeats by being able to endure everything the other guy throws at him. Simone has a good handle on who Superman is. When his opponent Hux trash talks him, he immediately tells the guy to bring it. Simone even is willing to say that a part of Superman enjoys fighting which most writers wouldn't be comfortable admitting. He’s not Goku such that he loves fighting, but I don’t connect with takes where he’s a pacifist who can’t stand any kind of violence. Superman enjoying a scrap but never to the point he’d prioritize a fight over saving lives is the perfect medium. Rowell’s backup ended underwhelmingly though. She has a good handle on the characterization of the two, but while Clark and Lois talking their problems out is the natural thing to do, it’s not exciting or engaging. Maybe it was just USM doing something similar that made this come across as underwhelming for me. Also I’m left wondering if that Atomic Skull plot thread is setting up something for Williamson or Waid to deal with. We get no answers as to why he's a villain again despite Rowell explicitly portraying it as out of character.

Zatanna: BDTH #4 - I love the Zatanna/Constantine romance. Yes he's a complete toxic bastard who is terrible for her, and that's what makes it so much fun to read. Everyone else at DC has a positive LI, even Batman and Catwoman who are flawed as hell bring out the best in each other. But these two are so messed up and that makes reading them fun!

Ultimate Spider-Man #9 - Great issue. Favorite part was Peter and Harry arguing over whether lethal force should be something they use. While Peter was unhappy about Harry resorting to what could’ve been a lethal blow, he also didn’t blow up their partnership for it. Peter stood his ground, and Harry stood his in response, but Peter allowed that maybe Harry had a point without backing down. Amazing how you can resolve arguments and maintain tension without writing everyone like they’re high schoolers. MJ gets a moment with Ben and Jonah to show off how she's contributing as the marketer, Otto debuts the Iron Spider which feels like the first step on the road to Otto becoming Doc Ock, and I think I know what the purpose of AI Peter is. Obviously it is the Ultimate version of Venom, but I think what's going to happen is one of the Six will target Peter's family and AI Peter is going to kill to defend the Parkers. That will upset Peter because he doesn't want to think he's capable of doing that, especially after lecturing Harry, and it will alienate him from the AI leading to Venom being born. Venom will thus act as a dark mirror to Peter, showing how Peter could go down the same road Harry seems to be walking, which will let Harry stay sympathetic for us the readers and maybe even Peter. He wouldn't be able to feel morally superior to Harry because he'll have a foe who forces him to acknowledge his own capacity for violence.

[trothplighted]

it’s very easy to go “you can be in the fandom but [list of things that OP has deemed Too Problematic]”, it solves the problem instantly in people’s minds.

but it’s not actually that simple.

first, as mentioned above, most people who are anti-HP-fandom hold that position because they have been personally hurt by HP fans including anti-Joanne fans. most of them are very clear that they don’t think “I like the books but I hate her” is a reasonable position to hold, and that they see us as just as transphobic, and they want us to completely remove all evidence of our fandom from our lives out of respect for their feelings. even fandom conversations criticizing Joanne’s choices is bad, by this metric, because it’s continuing to engage with a thing that they perceive as irrevocably tainted.

this is to an extent a reasonable boundary - people you associate with shouldn’t talk about things that hurt you. I don’t talk about HP on my main blog except to vent, because I don’t want people engaging with me there to be hurt, and I have friends and acquaintances who do not ever want to see anything to do with it ever again and who do fully believe that continuing to associate with it in any capacity even as a fan is the same as supporting Joanne. I don’t agree with them, but I respect their pain and their positions and I am somewhat private as a result.

but it’s also creating an environment where people feel they have to have a degree of guilt if they’re going to keep being in the fandom, and I don’t think that’s helpful at all. I like a book series from about 20 years ago written by a woman who nosedived into open hatred and bigotry over a decade after she finished writing those books. I am choosing for myself what that means and what my personal responsibility is. If the fandom were smaller, I’d definitely be a lot more overt in my “DO NOT ENGAGE” stance, but there are hundreds of millions of fans who never consider Joanne’s transphobia when they consider HP (sometimes because they’re bigots themselves, sometimes because they don’t know, sometimes because they’ve decided that liking a thing isn’t supporting the author’s positions). I am therefore choosing how to act for myself, and my responsibility to my own community, not for the sake of assuaging guilt. If I’m guilty I’m going to stop engaging. If I think that what I’m doing is materially harmful, I’m going to stop engaging. I ask myself that all the time, and I’m all right with the answer changing.

I spend money all the time for necessity and for entertainment and most of that money goes to pad the pockets of people who are equally as transphobic as Joanne, and are far richer. I like books written by people who are more prejudiced than she is, and feel no guilt paying for them and taking the good along with the bad. I don’t go out of my way to spend money on Joanne’s stuff in ways that will benefit her (fan merch and thrifting/secondhand is another story, and I’m particular about that kind of thing) and won’t encourage or allow others to buy things for me. I don’t want my dollars going to her. But I’m not interested in apologizing for liking what is unfortunately her world. I’d still choose to live in it over this one. I’m also not guilty over the prospect of anticipating some of the new show being good or interesting.

the postscript is, I suppose, that I am forever reminded that white people are brand new to navigating the question of “this author/filmmaker wants everyone like me dead, and actively advocates for my destruction, but fuck, that story slaps”. I’m really uninterested in waving my Identity Labels around because I’m too old for that and fundamentally uninterested in proving myself but lol. lmao even. this is not a new problem. L. Frank Baum’s Oz stories are written by a guy who was really really in favor of manifest destiny and indigenous genocide and Civilizing The Savages. don’t even get me started on basically every English author ever and their overt antisemitism. You just have to live with liking something written by someone who wants you dead. Sorry. No escaping that. You can’t outrun the world’s brokenness no matter how hard you try, you can only fix it with your little pot of spackle and your roll of FlexTape.

ultimately the problem I personally have with a lot of the collective shaming and guilt-tripping re: engaging with/discussing/possibly watching the upcoming Max series by my fellow Joanne-critical or anti-Joanne members of the fandom is that for a lot of people, who all have very valid points, “I’m in the fandom but I’m twisting myself into knots to avoid direct association with Joanne and here are all my lines in the sand but I’m not dumping this story for you” isn’t actually a reasonable position to hold

I’m not personally ashamed of my decision to engage with this imperfect text made by a deeply problematic woman (across multiple axes), and I don’t think I’m behaving in a way that’s harmful to my trans siblings, but it would be unhelpful and hurtful for me to act as if people who will block this blog for discussing HP at all are wrong. I’m talking about a thing that hurts them. Now, I take care to avoid going out of my way to cause undue harm - I keep my discussion on a dedicated sideblog, only reblog from people who are all right with HP blogs discussing and discoursing with them, I tag all of my stuff, and I’m clear that I don’t like or support Joanne. But for a lot of people that isn’t enough, and won’t ever be enough, and I’m able to respect that. I don’t agree with some of the positions they hold, but I respect their pain, and give them a wide berth. I’ve made my choice and they’ve made theirs; who’s right in this situation is less clear-cut than many assume.

I see a lot of fans, especially younger fans, acting as if they can personally distance themselves from Joanne. “I’m not an HP fan I’m a Marauders fan, it’s it’s own fandom by now,” etc. First, no it’s not, and second, even if it were its own fandom it’s still tied and rooted to Joanne’s books. It wouldn’t exist without them. You can like Star Trek: The Next Generation without liking TOS but TOS must exist for TNG to exist. You are going to be doing harm to someone by liking this stuff at all. (I don’t think that harm is always a rational one - I think plenty of emotions are valid, and understandable, but I think a lot of conclusions reached by the more determined anti-HP-fandom people on this site are motivated primarily by those emotions and not by an objective measurement of harm (if I didn’t think that, I wouldn’t be comfortable having a whole fan blog about these books). As a result my primary focus wrt those people is to avoid hurting them and letting them block me and disengage from me without making that a question of personal guilt.) You aren’t necessarily “better” than someone choosing to pirate (or even legally watch) the upcoming show if your concern is avoidance of a problematic thing or personal innocence. We are all engaging with something that’s tainted forever by association, and can only rely on ourselves to settle our consciences. Unlike HP there is no measurement of morality that centers on who you are, there’s just good things and bad things and things that are somewhere in between.

[beyondspaceandstars]

Happy Engagement

Relationship: Loki x Reader Warnings: contains some dark elements: manipulation Summary: Loki has always thought of you as his and there isn’t anything he won’t do to keep it that way. A/N: I’ve been sitting on this one shot for a while! I had the idea for it months ago and finally wrote it and then it just sat on my computer while I wrote other stuff but I figured since I don’t have anything really new this week it’d be perfect to put out! I hope you enjoy it because I greatly do :)

Masterlist

Loki had always been an interesting force in your life.

You two met when you were just children in school. You two were the official unofficial outsides of your school year — he was a prince, you were a peasant. Despite his royal standing, he’d play with you at recess. For these outlier ways, you two never interacted much with the other kids, life practically forcing you two to one another.

At such a young age, you hadn’t realized how significant this bond would become. As a child, you were just glad someone was talking to you. He shouldn’t have even been looking at you, should’ve maybe been disgusted with your presence alone. You should’ve been some onlooker, amazed by him and his magic but you weren’t — well, except for the magic part. His magic was little when you were kids but it drew quite the amazement from you.

Over time, you two naturally grew with one another. From childhood into your teens and still, now, you two made an unlikely pair of best friends as young adults. All of this though did not come without some bumps along the way.

In your teens, Loki had almost completely shut you out. For some reason, he seemed to be acting embarrassed by you. Your mother had warned you this may happen but you thought he was different, swore he was, unless his sincerity was like the many other tricks he played. Eventually, supposedly after some talking down from his brother, Loki appeared back at your door asking if you wanted to go for a walk.

This disappearing and coming back had become a habit for him over his teenage years and into adulthood. Loki never explicitly told you why but you could tell there was something eating away at him. It had been there a long time and it felt like disassociating himself with you was his solution.

You thought everything was coming to an abrupt end when you fell pregnant. You had been seeing a nobleman who was a regular customer in your parents’ shop. He was absolutely charming and delightful, practically swept you right off your feet within minutes of meeting. Your parents were ecstatic when he asked to court you.

You yourself were stunned but you ran to tell Loki about it. He was speechless. You tried telling him about the man but something in Loki snapped. He got unreasonably upset, spewing hateful comments about the man, practically forcing you out of his chambers in the process. He went radio silent again.

You tried to ignore losing your best friend — again — and focused on your new relationship. He wooed you endlessly with dates to lavish dinners and dawning you in lovely gowns. It was all so much more than you had ever expected in life. He’d tell you you deserved it and whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you two would get so lost in one another.

A bit shamefully, hypnotized by the romantics of it all, you gave yourself to him. Tangled in the sheets with him as your guide, you let the man you felt you would marry have every last bit of you.

And for a while after, it was blissful. Nothing had seemed to change between you two until he announced he had to go away for a bit. Confused, you asked why suddenly now facing the fact you were losing another person in your life. He explained he was needed by his father on a different realm, part of the family "business," as he described it.

Days after his departure, you learned you were pregnant. Around this time, Loki popped back up in your life. You felt relieved having someone to confide in but when you told him of your pregnancy, he was far from the supportive force you thought you’d get. He didn’t yell or get upset per se but he was beyond stunned.  

He left for a bit then but can back in less time than last. This time he brought along baby supplies and congratulated you. It was a complete one-eighty from his prior behavior but you accepted it, gratefully. Loki ended up being your main person throughout the pregnancy as clues of when your boyfriend would return were nonexistent.

"Did he know you were carrying his child when he left?" Loki had asked you one night. You two were sitting in the living room of the makeshift house you had acquired. You didn’t feel very good that this was the home you were bringing a child into when you knew her father could’ve provided her with a better one. But, at the end of the day, it was a roof over both your heads.

You crocheted another knot in the baby blanket. "No, he didn’t. I didn’t even know."

Loki gave a passing hum at that answer. He didn’t ask about your boyfriend very much after that.

Once your baby girl arrived, she became your entire world, your entire focus. Between caring for her and working to provide, you had little time to worry about your boyfriend still being gone. But it wasn’t as lonely as it may have looked because Loki was always by your side. Working around his royal duties, he’d take time to come visit you and your daughter even sometimes staying for dinner or to play with her. You didn’t miss how he was unintentionally becoming the father she was missing. You never said anything, though, always biting your tongue as you waited for her father to return.

Hope began to face on that front after your daughter turned three. Maybe he was just a footnote in your life, a foolish hopeful dream, but at least he had given you the lovely gift of your child. You weren’t giving up, still placing him in the boyfriend spot of your mind, but you couldn’t deny doubt crept in. Maybe a relationship of any capacity just wasn’t in the cards for you.

Or so you thought.

As Loki continued with his royal responsibilities, he was growing older and more powerful. That’s when the rumors of marriage began floating about. Your mother had brought it up to you once asking if you met any of his potential suitors. Your stomach did a somersault. You didn’t even know there were suitors, let alone met any of them. You tried to keep your cool and just told her no.

Who these suitors were and if they really existed, you never found out. You never even had the guts to ask about them especially after Loki pulled you aside one night after a dinner at the palace.

He rarely ever invited you to dinners with his family so to get this spontaneous invitation, you didn’t hesitate to attend. He even allowed you to bring along your daughter. She was playing with some servants’ children when Loki asked you to the garden.

"Feeling like a nighttime stroll?" You asked with a little laugh. Loki just smiled.

"There’s actually something I want to speak to you about."

"Oh," you frowned. "Is everything okay?"

Loki nodded. "Yes, yes, everything is fine." He looked up at the sky, almost lost in thought as you walked. You thought for a split second how lovely he looked. "I’m sure you have heard by now the…talk about my anticipated engagement."

Your heart practically stopped beating at that moment. Your hands instinctively gripped at the skirt of your dress as if you were ready to run away at the drop of a hat. Trying to keep your voice stead, you said, "Yes, I believe my mother mentioned that to me the other day."

He shot you an unreadable side glance. Your hands gripped the fabric tighter. Why were you feeling like this? Was that…jealousy you felt? You didn’t understand where that had come from. This was your best friend. Your prince best friend. He was bound to get married and have a lavish life with his bride. You couldn’t stop that, you couldn’t change it.

"Do you know anything of the women I have been offered?"

Was this another one of his cruel jokes? You wanted to vomit all over the bushes of flowers passing you as you walked. You managed to shake your head in response. "I’m sure they’re all wonderful."

He scoffed. "More like they’re all incredibly boring."

You gasped, "Loki, I’m not sure you should be speaking that way of them."

"It’s doesn’t matter," he shrugged, "because none of them are what I want."

You didn’t know if you actually wanted to know what he was seeking. You looked at him wearily.

You two walked in silence for a moment. Loki was now watching the ground intensely. You couldn’t believe how much his gaze was wandering. It must’ve been for courage because the next words out of his mouth were ones you had never thought you’d ever hear. From anyone.

"I believe you could be what I want," he said. He spoke your name so softly. "I’d like to ask for your hand in marriage."

You stopped walking, your legs suddenly unable to move. Your eyes grew wide as complete shock raced over you. You didn’t know what to do, too scared to speak because you didn’t know what was going to come out. Your first thought was that this was one of his magic tricks. Maybe he wasn’t even here, just a clone of him as he wished to make a fool of you. It wouldn’t be the first time but he had never been so cruel.

"You’re not saying anything," Loki noted. He had stopped a few feet ahead of you, completely taken off guard by your halt.

"I-I don’t understand." The words felt so heavy forcing their way out of your mouth.

"I don’t believe I stuttered, dear."

Your jaw dropped, surprised it hadn’t hit the floor already. He was seriously asking this. Loki, a literal prince, and your best friend, was asking for your hand in marriage. But — But you just didn’t know why. Why would he ask such a thing? Not only were you an unwed mother, he knew very well about your boyfriend. It was almost insulting he’d think you’d give up just because business or whatever it was was taking a while. You didn’t even want to begin to think about what this could all mean for your daughter.

"Loki… I… I don’t know. This seems crazy—,"

"Crazy?" His expression turned dark. You suddenly regretted the word despite it holding true. "What is so crazy about me wanting to take your hand? I thought this could be good. You and your daughter would have everything you’d ever want. You’d be a princess for crying out loud!"

You flinched at his anger. You had never seen him so enraged before. It made your whole body stiffen.

"I see. This… This is very generous of you but my boyfriend…"

Loki chuckled but there wasn’t any humor found within it. "Of course. The nobleman." He rolled his eyes. "Tell me again, dear, how long has it been? Do you really think he’s going to just show back up one day?"

"Of course," you nodded. "He told me—,"

"He’s not coming back."

You began shaking your head, growing more and more upset as the seconds passed. "You don’t know that."

Loki sighed, defeatedly. "I do know that, dear." A heavy pause. "I know that because I’m the one that sent him away."

You were certain in that moment your heart had stopped. Everything had stopped. You could barely tell anymore how you got from point A to point B.

"Wh-What do you mean?"

"What I mean is I’ve had my eye on you for a long time," he explained. He was standing so tall making you feel minuscule. "I always thought you could be just right for me but then that nobleman waltzed into your life. Granted, he wasn’t me. He couldn’t give you what I could but he tried his best." Loki shrugged. "I had no choice, really. He threatened everything. He derailed my plan but it’s alright. I think after tonight it’ll be back on track, correct?"

You held your hands up in defense, practically begging Loki to slow down. Your head was spinning. "You sent away the father of my child?"

Loki sighed, sounding actually regretful. "Truly, that wasn’t ever my intention. I didn’t know he was going to do that."

"And you think since you forced him out of the picture, you can swoop in and ask for my hand in marriage? We never had a courtship! Are you even hearing yourself?"

"I’m a prince, darling." He sounded so casual. "We do not court like the rest of you."

Gosh, you felt like you were going to vomit. Your hands fell to your stomach as you tried to calm yourself. You had never heard Loki separate you two so clearly before. Like he had drawn a line, definitively.

Your words tasted like venom as you forced yourself to speak. "Can I at least think about it?"

"I’m afraid not. They’d like an answer tonight."

Tonight. That was what this dinner had been for. You weren’t invited just out of the kindness of his heart. You had been attending your own engagement party.

"Loki, this… I— This is insane. You’re— You’re insane—,"

"Am I, really?" He pressed, taking a few steps closer. You trembled under a darkened gaze you had never seen before on him. "I’m not sure that’s how you should be speaking to the man trying to offer you a bit of… stability."

"Stability?" You repeated. "You think that’s all that I want?"

"Would this not grant your daughter a better life? The little shop of yours is only getting you two so far, dear."

The shock had worn off as you were now being filled with rage. "Don’t you dare bring my daughter into this anymore," you gritted. "Of course, I want nothing but the best for her but I also deserve someone who will truly love me. You’re — You’re just asking to fulfill some royal commitment and trying to pass it off like this is some big, grand gesture to help me."

Loki looked a bit taken back by your words. Even you were a bit surprised by yourself. You didn’t know where this fight was coming from within you. Probably from the depths of motherhood, if you had to guess. But it felt good in a way.

After a heavy moment, Loki asked, "Was I so wrong to assume this proposal could actually help us both?"

That was the real kicker of it all, you thought. This actually could help you both.

"I want to marry someone who loves me."

Loki seemed to debate around the idea mentally. "I’m certain that within time something could bloom. I’m not a psychopath, darling." He smirked. "But I truly can’t believe you’d give this up all for the minuscule chance at love, the hopeless thing that got you where you are today."

You gasped. "I would’ve had true love if you hadn’t banished him away!"

Loki let out a humorless laugh. "You are so adorable, you know that?" You flinched as he got close enough now to place a hand on your damp cheek. You were practically forced to look in his eyes as he spoke. "That man was nothing but a spoiled brat and I refuse to believe you actually fell for his game."

You felt yourself crumbling down again. Way beneath him. "He… He was really…"

"Don’t you dare try to defend him, do you hear me?" Loki spat. That darkness was washing over but this time it felt like a storm you couldn’t escape. "I will not have my bride speak such niceties about another man."

"Your bride—,"

"While I’ve enjoyed this little midnight confessional, we have some good news to share with everyone, don’t we?"

You didn’t know what to do. What to think anymore. He wasn’t letting up. You were trapped. It was like the prison gate had shut behind you. You were stone-cold now, completely under his control. You were giving up in complete defeat. You could scream until you were blue in the face but you were running in circles. At least your daughter would know a home.

"Yes."

Loki’s face lit up. He removed his hands from you. "Fantastic," he said, heading back towards the palace. You helplessly followed beside him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and said, "Happy engagement, dear."

[hag-rambling-on]

Boys hc’s feats Diaspro

Riven

Riven Cassios was born to two Omega prisoners. What surprised everyone, because staying healthy enough to carry out a pregnancy on a planet that sucks your magic is... Obviously the Rocalucce Council keeps an eye on the planet, they took him out of there because no child would pay because his parents, and he has been in foster homes, although it doesn't last long since the requirements for his adoption were more strict than most -which in the long run the Council would realize was COUNTERPRODUCTIVE for his character-. That is what Darcy detects and why the high spheres are somewhat "permissive" with him.

His mother died giving birth, it was already miraculous that she lived so long and ‘bout his father I think I'm going to kill him too, maybe. The father I assure you would be love him (he called Riven to himself Daru, his gift) thought was not his initial idea, the mother always saw him as an experiment (she was a witch who followed the Ancenstresses). Ohm, also in his blood there are dark elves and giants.

Riven surname is actually the name of the galaxy where he was born or a derivation of it, as is common for orphans. So the boy knows NOTHING about the above.

Timmy and Riven are the only specialists who have passed the full course at Fonterossa, without skips. In the end they bond about it. Timmy gives him a recommendation to work as a part-time mechanic at Magix (good boy face, he knows how to use it)

Timmy

Timeus “tshhhh, it’s Timmy.... i’m not my grandfather” fulfills the physique requisits as much as any other specialist, but it is true that his physique and abilities, adapted to the distance, give him a more "feline" air.

He is also the one who wakes up at night and moves silently, scaringthe rest of the squad if they wake up unexpectedly.

His glasses are for both sight and Aura Vision. His parents are rich enough to pay for an operation, but since he would have to wear glasses for his ability anyway, why? Practical guy.

And the glasses make people look down on him, something that when his self-esteem is high and he’s being rational and cunning he knows it’s wonderful, although many others times may hurt. He is mostly leprechaum with something human.

Nex

Nex is still a Paladin born in Lymphea and with blood of literally ALL races. He adapts well to any planet, although not its people at first. His race mix makes his face “charismatic”, like always draw attention even if people don’t know very well why they are draw.

His ability is Delay Sleep. It allows him to hold over his need to sleep for days without going crazy or losing physical capacity or needing many days to recover (he can stay awake for 5 or more days, sleep 8-10 hours and go back to being his usual self). Sometimes he does not control this well and has plenty of energy in need of drop but he is the one who has the most control of his ability.

One of his parents spent time in Rocalucce Fortress as a "guest" so at times he feels like he has something to prove.

Roy

Coming from Andros, most of the population are merpeople with a few elves and humans. which avoids the 100% aquatic population. Roy, unlike Aisha is mostly human-elf with a bit of merpeople in a grandgrandgrand level. One of his parents comes from one of the colonies on the moons of Andros and he was born there although they moved almost immediately.

Roy’s paladin ability being the canon “Triton Aura” used to breathe underwater. That and learning to swim and drive all kinds of water vehicles was what made him feel "adapted" to Andros. But he always try to be useful.

He only became a Paladin at the beginning of season 6, and it was visiting him that the season began. He’s bi but he thinks of himself as straight.

Nabu

I plead guilty to liking Nabu even though I shipped Aisha with Flora and Nex. So I have a hard time thinking about him. Except, EVERY time I try to think of something. EVERY TIME. Rapunzel. So, he will never cut his hair.

But with an island instead of a tower and a babysitter (male and wizard) more dumbledoor (not, actually more like Newt Scamander mentor like).

Sometimes he misses out on some "social customs/things/normalcies" whatever is called due to his little dealing with people. He may seem naive or that don't understand sarcasm. He understands and learns quickly, but people were very respectful to him and there are things he is not used to. 1/2 merpeople 1/4 half elf 1/4 human as both of his parents are half merpeople.

He likes to swim as much as any merpeople, but they didn't let him do it much because they were afraid he would go away or lost, so he usually went off "to the heights", going up to the rooftops and things like that.

Helia

Helia is trans but keeps his first name as chosen name which I don’t understand. Also he has formally tried study practically everything he wanted. Specialist, Paladin, Wizard (of Threads). Painter.

He can't make up his mind, his family hurries him just to STOP making them dizzy and spend a few years with everything -and actually end a single “major” choice- he wants to experience, that he has a very long life and can dedicate a few decades to Everything and they can support them. Well, more or less, but he was vip pass to all these options because family connections.

Long story about Sky, Brandon and Dia.

Sky, Brandon and Diaspro's first meeting was a show. Has it all. Costumes, lies. Confusion. Kidnapping. And that is why Diaspro insists on the wedding (I would like to mention that although I don’t know her romantic orientation yet surely bi or lesbian, here, Dia is asexual. And Sky is non-binary but his parents do not approve so go for he/him to avoid problem with them. And here our story begins)

A bit of background. Brandon actually hails from Isis, the son of the military and was chosen by the whimsical chibi!Diaspro as a playmate and future personal guard (because then she believed that touching children gave "lice" and her character and age did not have the 18like wall of royal education, then in a random encounter he called her among many things what Dia's mind translated in a strange way "uncracked geode", which is a double-edged compliment in Isis that many would not accept from strangers but she liked it). Rarely they would end up becoming friends in the end. When the series begins, Brandon and Diaspro keep up with calls, which will prevent Dia's reaction with Bloom on the one hand.

On a visit (officially only from the kings of Erakyon to to the kings of Isis) for the children to get to know each other, somehow, they all ended up happily dressing up, with Sky and Dia looking like two pretty princesses and Brandon assessing whether his dress would be green or yellow because Diaspro insisted that she and Sky had already taken the blue and red and so it would be more "thematic".

Here began the first of many attacks on Sky's head, because before it had begun to be rumored (true) that Erendor had fertility problems (btw his race dwarf-high elf and Samara is leprechaum-high elf, Sky gots mostly high elf part). When they came in and saw two girls and a boy, Brandon, not the highest IQ, but one of the wisest of his team and definitely the best fighter, played along so he ended up pretending to be Sky (also helps that his hair colors looks like Erendor) Everything worked out well in the end, although Brandon ended up as Sky's squire (better for him, worse for Diaspro), and Diaspro made Sky promise that he owed her a big favor. Anyway they grew up over the years in friendship and they both knew they were not of each other's true love interest, but, they could put up with each other (because that's what royalty does).

Sky and Diaspro have a sonorous (affectionate) war over Sky's hair to annoy/exasperate Brandon. Diaspro always complains that he doesn't grow it and it would look great then. Sky says that he is fine as with his hair at it is (it's actually Erendor's thing). The soft part of Diaspro that she doesn't usually show off has taught Sky many ways to style his hair and subtly put on makeup to look more feminine if he wants to.

How I am amused by that image from wikipedia and that Diaspro entered Sky's guard so quickly. Another headcanon is that Diaspro would sometimes change her appearance a bit and go into Sky's guard to be with Brandon to annoy him and Sky, when Brandon has to talk about her without giving details, she is simply "his sister Charbonne" (she hates that alias). They were discovered when she was 15 years old but she had already trained and the royal families considered it a sign to formalize the engagement since “they search each other” (people only sees what they wants).

The Diaspro family is not good, first Brandon was a shield (emotional) because as a child they were not “that” bad and then Sky joined him (physically and politically), handling things with Bloom so like that was not a good idea when the floor was full of cracked bottles.

... omg i’m sorry you three i’m sorry what I did to you

Also, Brandon's ability as a green user is very interesting and helps with this a lot. I temporally call it “Keypoint Warning” and I like it a lot, it's like a "tic" that tells him "be careful, what you say, what you do now, even the smallest thing could change everything for youself (for better or for worse)”. He actually has a scar on his forehead (not a lightning bolt) that his hairstyle hides after “that” day but a little less fine on the words and the kidnappers might have broken his mouth so... His parents have been cured (spoiler: no) of heart attack since then.

[alittlewhump]

Unbidden - Act 2, chapter 1

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Content warnings: sex work mention, one noncon kiss, minor noncon touch (suggestive but not sexual)

Morgan was deeply uncomfortable. The caravan ride had been entertaining, at least for him. Cain was delighted to have an attentive audience, and after divulging all he knew about the events currently unfolding - Diablo's corruption and influence spreading, the dark wanderer last seen heading east and his possible motives - he had expounded at length on his theories about the forces of Heaven and Hell and what moves they might make next. He also shared tales of the time he'd spent in the desert cities in his younger days, and anything else that happened across his mind. It seemed he had an unlimited capacity for storytelling. Morgan liked it, content to absorb as much knowledge as he could.

However, once they'd reached their destination, they had been almost immediately ushered to the palace by a taciturn guard armed with a very sturdy-looking spear. Cain had already slipped away, ostensibly in pursuit of an old acquaintance, but both Blaise and Morgan found themselves visiting the sultan unexpectedly.

Upon their arrival, the man, who introduced himself as Jerhyn, had actually been quite friendly. He had somehow heard about their defeat of Andariel and was eager to pay for their assistance with problems that had arisen in his city. The mercenary guild was struggling to maintain their ranks in the face of increasing demonic activity. Blaise had agreed to join them readily; working together with a group to combat monsters and demons was well within her comfort zone. Morgan was trying to delicately express his preference to work alone, but the sultan was being insistent and it was proving difficult to argue.

The problem he was experiencing was rooted in the attack the harem guild had sustained weeks earlier, prompting Jerhyn to offer the members shelter within his spacious palace. Priests of Rathma had no particular rules with regards to celibacy, but surrounded as he was now by women and men in various states of undress, Morgan found himself wishing they did. He'd never managed to grasp the allure of intimate relations. He was aware of it as a possible motivation for the actions of others - there was a long list of those - but he'd resigned himself to simply not understanding it. The guild members flocked around Jerhyn, all flashing jewels and rustling silks. It was impossible to look at the man without seeing an astonishing amount of bare flesh. Of course Morgan was familiar with the human body, had helped with preparations for some of the more involved burial rites, but this was different. It felt like an invasion of privacy, despite the fact that the display was clearly intentional. His discomfort was making it difficult to negotiate.

Blaise, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying herself, gazing around with frank admiration. When Jerhyn finally relented, allowing them until the morning to come to a final decision, she grinned wolfishly.

"Does that mean we get to spend the night here?"

Jerhyn smiled indulgently. "Of course, if you wish it. You may stay as long as you like. Any of the companions here can show you to the guest chambers. Please, enjoy yourselves."

Morgan stood and bowed politely before turning to leave. A heavy hand came down on his shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going?" Blaise hissed next to his ear.

"To find an inn," he whispered back. Her grip tightened and he fought the urge to pry her fingers off of him. It would not be wise to make a scene so soon after their introduction, he reminded himself. No matter that he was already uncomfortable to start with, and it was only getting worse.

"You know it's incredibly rude to turn down an invitation like this, right," she pointed out. He... yes, he did know that, now that he thought about it. The overwhelming desire to be anywhere else was impeding his ability to remember all the rules of social interaction. He did not outwardly protest as Blaise steered him back toward the crowd of concubines. "Have a little fun for once," she said at a more normal volume, pushing him into the waiting embrace of a pale, slender young woman before turning away to mingle.

"Nice to meet you, sweetheart," the woman purred, running her hand down his chest. He tried not to shrink away from the contact. "Let me show you to your room. Don't worry, you don't have to be shy with me." She flashed him a dazzling smile.

"Thank you," he managed. She took him by the hand and led him down a staircase and up a corridor while he alternated between looking at his feet and looking at the ceilings. They appeared to be intricately painted tiles, but the details were lost on him.

Morgan heaved a small sigh of relief when she stepped into a room, beckoning him to follow with a wink. Finally, a respite. He opened his mouth to thank her for her guidance, but she muffled him with a kiss, pressing him into the doorway. He froze for a long, panicked second, torn between the desire to push her away and the lack of any adequately clothed spot on her body to push against. As she raised her arms to embrace him, that did it. He reached up to shove against her shoulder, leaning away.

"What are you doing?" he gasped.

"Showing you a good time, sweetie." He was not having a good time. She went to lean in again and he wriggled free, ducking under her arm and backing away into the room.

"Please, don't." He kept his hand raised to ward her off. She pouted.

"What, you don't like me?"

Not especially. The invasion into his personal space had been unexpected and unwelcome. "I'm sure you're... quite lovely," he said haltingly - it was more of a guess than a lie - "but I'm not... interested in... that." He gestured vaguely, hoping to somehow encapsulate the concept of physical intimacy.

A look of understanding dawned on her face, to Morgan's relief. "Oh. Oh! Sorry about that. I can usually guess. Your friend seemed pretty sure down there, doesn't she know...? Oh well, just sit tight, I'll get out of your hair." She flashed him that bright smile again as she left.

Morgan sat wearily on the edge of the bed. New places were exhausting, and he still had to figure out how to convince the sultan that he would gladly help the mercenaries as long as he was permitted to engage with them as little as possible. How best to frame it? He tested a few different scenarios in his head, starting to build a script from the pieces that seemed most compelling. It was laborious enough that he didn't notice the figure at the entrance to the room until it spoke.

"Not a lot of people turn down Meera's company. Perhaps I'll be a little more to your liking."

"Please, I just - um." He'd started to answer before looking up, and found himself wholly unprepared for the vision that greeted him. The most breathtakingly beautiful person he'd ever seen was leaning casually against the doorway. He smiled at Morgan, a flash of pearly teeth bright against the deep umber of his skin, and moved in to perch on the edge of the bed beside him.

"My name is Jemali. What should I call you?" He laid a delicate hand on Morgan's thigh. That broke the spell. Why did these people insist on so much physical contact?

"Morgan," he said, sliding away from the other man. "I don't like being touched," he added.

"You say that," Jemali smiled, edging closer, "but you've never been touched by me. I'd remember a face as handsome as yours." He reached out to caress Morgan's cheek, but he ducked away from the contact, standing and backing away.

"I don't like being lied to, either." The flattery was over the top. A particularly kind and tactful person might go so far as to describe him as distinctive, but that was just a polite way to skirt around the issue. He was ugly. That was an objective fact. There was no point in trying to disguise or deny it.

"Morgan, honey, I'm not - look, I think we got off on the wrong foot here. Let's start over." He patted the bed next to him. Morgan did not move. Jemali sighed. "At least meet me halfway here. I'm trying to please you. If you don't want Meera and you don't want me, what do you want?"

"To rest after a long journey." His patience was wearing thin and he didn't want any sort of company, no matter how lovely they might be to look at. "I just want to be alone."

Jemali arched an eyebrow. "You have a free shot with the finest concubines money can buy, and you don't want to take it?"

"I do not."

"You a eunuch or something?' He cast an appraising glance at Morgan's trousers.

"No."

"Well, now you have me curious." He sprawled across the bed, stretching long limbs to claim the space. "What possible reason could you have to turn both of us down like this? We aren't used to the sting of rejection, you know." He pouted.

"Is it not enough-" he closed his eyes briefly. Irritation was a loss of control, a failure to adhere to the principles that guided him. Plus, raising his voice was starting to hurt his throat. He took a calming breath and tried again. "I don't desire anyone's company. Please just accept that."

"Fine. You don't have to tell me." Jemali rolled over onto his stomach, propping his face up on his hands. "Akarat knows I could use a break anyway. So tell me about yourself, Morgan. Or don't you like talking, either?"

"Not really."

Jemali rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Just my luck, too. Stoic adventurer types are usually right up my alley, but you're going to be a tough nut to crack. I can tell. Don't-" he held up one finger to cut off Morgan's next words before they'd left his mouth, "- don't ask me to leave, because I will, but nobody's going to believe we've finished so quickly. And we're on orders from the sultan to see to you and your friend, so that means I'll have to send in someone else and you'll have to go through this all over again. So just let me sit here for... oh, an hour or so, and then we can both be on our merry ways."

"Fine."

Morgan seated himself in a plush chair opposite the bed, since the other man seemed to be making himself comfortable and he wanted to stay out of his reach. The following silence lasted for nearly a minute before Jemali's voice jolted Morgan out of his thoughts.

"So you must be some sort of wizard." Jemali was studying him, head tilted in what must have been a practiced pose. It was impossible for a person to look so thoroughly statuesque by chance. "You don't have the build to be a fighter. Are you any good? I mean, you must be, or else you wouldn't be here enjoying my company." He stretched languorously. Was he even capable of being still? "Oh, what a story! A strong, silent sorcerer, come to protect us from the clutches of foul demons! This could have been almost romantic, you know. What a waste." He splayed long fingers dramatically across his bare chest, casting his eyes up toward the ceiling.

Ah, yes, the demons. Perhaps he could get some useful information out of this encounter. "Were you there?"

"Was I there when - oh, you want to talk about that." Jemali hugged one knee to his chest, running the edge of a painted fingernail along his bottom lip. "No. No, I was lucky enough to be on a house call. Lost some friends, though." So he could be still after all. Morgan winced. Of course this lively individual had been friends with the victims. Of course the memories would be painful. He hadn't meant to distress him, even though he'd just been hoping for some peace and quiet.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he offered. The other man's lips quirked upward.

"Thanks, honey. That's nice of you to say." He gave a small sigh. "You want to know what you're up against, huh?"

"If I can."

"Smart. Now, we don't make a habit of judging our clientele, but everyone agrees there was a suspicious character who came through just beforehand. Refused to take off his cloak or even pull down his hood. Didn't want anything, just asked a lot of questions and left. Really strange. The demons showed up a few hours later."

Morgan leaned forward. That sounded like it could have been the dark wanderer Cain had described. "Do you know what he asked?"

Jemali shrugged. "Something about old myths, some sort of tomb or something. I don't know."

That would be enough to start with. He could question the sultan in the morning and go from there. Hunting for information was easy enough to justify as an individual task. If the wanderer was looking for something old, that might give him occasion to scour the city archives for information, a pleasantly solitary task. It could also be a justification for working with Deckard Cain, who clearly had some familiarity with the area. The scholar was a useful resource, he reminded himself. It was just a bonus that he liked the old man's company. Things were starting to come together.

Morgan leaned back, satisfied. The action made the collection of small pouches on his belt dig uncomfortably into his side, pushed out of place by the plush stuffing of the chair. He stood to remove them, but of course nothing could go without comment.

"What's all that?"

He considered his options. Ignoring the question seemed unlikely to work, given Jemali's persistence. A vague answer would just lead to more questions, and he didn't particularly want to get into the details of his profession. It might solve the pressing issue of privacy for the moment, but word would inevitably spread, and that could hinder his effectiveness with the sultan. Or get him expelled from the city, depending on the citizens' mood. It wouldn't be the first time. Might as well give a brief explanation.

"Potions. Ingredients for potions. Dried foods. Trinkets." He pointed at each pouch as he named its contents.

Jemali's face lit up. "What kind of trinkets? Like jewels? Oh, can I look at them?"

They were mainly jewellery. Sometimes a skeleton rose with some trappings of its former life still intact - clothes, weapons, baubles. At some point Morgan had started collecting the ones that were particularly appealing to him. The dead generally had no use for possessions. Sometimes he bartered them for supplies, which was useful enough to justify the collection. Sometimes he traded them for other, prettier baubles. To further aid him in his travels, he told himself. Nicer trinkets fetched him more supplies. But he also liked to just look at them sometimes, to appreciate their shapes and the way light played off their surfaces.

He passed the small bag to the courtesan at arm's length. Jemali upended it over the bed in front of him, spreading out the contents to admire them. Morgan, in turn, settled back in his chair and admired Jemali now that his attention was elsewhere. People didn't generally appreciate being stared at, he knew, but everything about the man was arresting. The shape and warm colour of his eyes, the smooth slopes of his skin, the slick, uniform coils of his hair. Even his movements were effortlessly graceful. His voice was easy to listen to, soft and lilting.

"Lost in contemplation of my beauty, hmm?"

Mortifyingly, he was right. "I - I'm sorry. For staring." Morgan averted his eyes. Stupid to have let himself get so distracted. He really did need to rest.

"You don't have to apologize, darling. Clearly you have excellent taste in pretty things," Jemali purred, playing his fingers first over the array of baubles in front of him and then drawing them up to frame his face. He batted his eyelashes. "You sure you don't want a little taste of this?"

"Quite sure." The threat of physical contact was enough to put Morgan back on the defensive. He shifted uncomfortably.

Jemali tilted his head. "You're a funny little puzzle, Morgan. Tell you what, let's make a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"I'll tell the others that you've requested to be my exclusive client. They won't bother you if they know you're mine," he grinned.

It would have been preferable for the guild to ignore him entirely, but he supposed dealing with a single courtesan would be much easier than trying to explain himself over and over. At least this one seemed to understand his request not to be touched.

"And in exchange?"

Jemali reclined fully, wriggling his shoulders into the sheets. "You let me come and go as I please. I don't have a good place here to take a break when I need some alone time. I'll be as quiet as a little mouse, you'll hardly know I'm here."

He considered. It seemed favourable, provided he could count on Jemali to actually be quiet when he needed to concentrate. But would the guild really keep bothering him as long as he stayed here? Or was Jemali overstating the issue to get what he wanted? He eyed the other man warily.

"And I promise I won't lay a finger on you without your permission," he added. That was enough to tip the scales.

"We have a deal."

"Wonderful!" Jemali clapped his hands together and sat up. "Now let's seal it with a kiss, as a matter of tradition... oh, honey, it's all right, I'm just teasing. I said I'll respect your personal space, and honestly I meant it. I'm sorry, Morgan, you don't have to look so scared."

He clenched his jaw. He wasn't scared of being touched, he just didn't want it. Especially not from someone teasing him. Of course, he should have been expecting it. Tiredness and discomfort had interfered with his usual defenses. And if he was honest with himself, so had the peaceful journey, and so had the man's unexpected beauty. He had to remember that he'd earned a measure of respect from his traveling companions, that he couldn't expect the same sort of treatment from a stranger. Especially not such a pretty one, when he was just the opposite. That was just the way the world worked.

"I am going to rest here," he said, closing his eyes and hoping he could take Jemali at his word to leave him be. That ought to end the conversation.

"You can use the bed, you know."

"This is fine."

"All right, suit yourself." True to his word, Jemali was quiet. Morgan could hear the sheets rustle as he made himself comfortable, and shortly afterward his breathing grew slow and deep. Once he was sure the other man was asleep, he finally felt comfortable enough to slip into a light meditation.

It was nearly two hours later by Morgan's count when Jemali gave a soft, almost musical sigh as he awoke and stretched. There were some quiet sounds of fabric and jewellery shifting as he arranged himself, then the soft pat of his feet hitting the floor. "Until next time, darling," he said in a low whisper, and then he let himself out.

Morgan waited a few minutes before relaxing back into a deeper meditation. The chair was actually quite comfortable, much better than the back of the caravan. There was no need to move to the bed. Tomorrow he would meet with the sultan, well rested and hopefully on his own terms. He was cautiously looking forward to it.

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: and sings the tune without the words, ch. 3

Relationship: Jiāng Yànlí & Jīn Zǐxuān, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Jiang Yanli, Jin Zixuan, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian

Additional Tags: Epistolary, Food, Music

Summary: An epistolary follow-up to “the thing with feathers.” Exchanged letters.

Notes: See end.

Previous fic in the series: “the thing with feathers”

Chapters: 1 | 2

AO3 link

--------------

To Jin-gongzi,

I sincerely apologize for the delay in writing back. A-Xian had an episode, like the one you saw, but he was unconscious for two days and very frightened and confused after he woke. I had a letter started before that occurred but am writing a new one now. 

I am glad you like Zihuang’s design. When a-die took me to the luthier, we discussed the various options available for both sound and decoration. Since my practice instrument was a shoo konghou, they recommended I choose the same, but the fong shou design called to me. 

I decided on the mother of pearl instead of a precious metal or jade because I liked the shine of it, but also for another reason. Before A-Xian fell ill, he and A-Cheng always brought me lovely shells they found while swimming in the river. They used to compete with each other to see who could find the most diving. So the nacre reminds me of them. I don’t know if A-Xian remembers this—perhaps I should mention it to him. 

I confess I am still a little distressed over A-Xian’s episode, so I apologize if I go off on tangents.

As a result of my childhood illness, I sometimes have dizzy spells. Largely it is under control, but Healer Kang said that improving my core might also improve my health. I’m happy that I can find a way to contribute to Yunmeng Jiang even with a weak body. I agree that there should be more avenues available to young cultivators who may not be able to fight monsters—if the sects encouraged such disciples to utilize their cultivation to heal or engage in other activities that would enrich the sect, it would only strengthen the sects!

Cooking is an activity I quite enjoy, and I would be happy to serve lotus root and pork rib soup sometime when you visit. My soup was the very first thing he remembered, actually. When A-Xian first came to us, he was scared and so malnourished, and I always cook it for him and A-Cheng, especially when they’re sick or troubled. I’m happy cooking it for him meant so much to him that it broke through his amnesia. 

Your suggestion about handstands was something I tried. It was very difficult, and I was so involved in trying to do one that I forgot Lan-xiansheng was coming to give me a music lesson. It was so embarrassing to be caught, as I was a little disheveled. But he smiled—I think he almost laughed, even, especially after I explained. 

He said your idea is sound, but I will need to work my way up to an actual handstand. For now, he showed me several exercises I can do to work on my muscles, and recommended I do the arm motions of sword forms with a light practice wooden one. I can move to heavier ones as my strength increases, and eventually I will be ready for handstands. Thank you for the suggestion. I am glad I can speak of this with you. 

I was unable to find a konghou score in our library, but I can write to Lan-xiansheng to ask if there is one in theirs. I, too, enjoy that song, though there’s a sadness to it, since it’s a farewell song. I may not be at the level where I can play it yet, but it is good to know what music you like. 

One of our cooks is from Lanling, but not near the capitol. I asked her about those dishes, and she knows them and will be happy to prepare them next time you visit. She’s also willing to teach me how to cook them! She cooked up basi pinggou for dessert once A-Xian recovered, even, and we all very much enjoyed it. It’s so sweet, and the texture is very pleasant. A-Xian and A-Cheng competed to make the longest thread of sugar.

Yunmeng cuisine is indeed known for its spice—but never take food from A-Xian, since he goes overboard with the spices. He dumps chili oil on everything, except my soup which he insists is perfect. 

I am very fond of re gan mian (hot dry noodles), and I like pianpiya (Hubei duck) which you might enjoy since one of the dishes you mentioned is a duck dish. As a dessert, I am very fond of sweet doufunao (tofu brains/pudding). 

A-Lian was a gift from the lotuses, our beautiful lotus meimei. A-Xian’s illness changed quite a bit for us. A-Niang became protective of him, and she started talking to a-die more. She also decided that we should seek orphans and street children and educate them so they may become cultivators, if they have the capacity, or take on a trade. She’s also made it her personal mission to rescue women enslaved at brothels so they might also be able to be educated and learn trades. Our family has grown, as has our sect, and we’re all very happy. 

I think a-niang is happy to have found more purpose, and to have reconciled with a-die. They had deep misunderstandings, I think. A-Xian’s illness forced them to talk, and things are much better now. 

I am including some of the rose petal candy you enjoyed with this letter. I hope it finds you and your family well.

Jiang Yanli

  To Jiang-guniang,

Your gift of rose petal candy is much appreciated. 

I am sorry to hear of your brother’s illness; you obviously care deeply for all of your siblings, so I have no doubt it was distressing for you. When I was there, he passed out for no more than a ke, which seemed from the reaction of everyone to be more typical. Yu-furen mentioned he was attacked and fell into a coma for weeks. It is quite understandable that you are distracted. Is he recovered?

The choices behind your konghou are interesting. I have not engaged in music beyond a rudimentary grasp of the suona as a pursuit of the six arts, but perhaps I should refine my skills and consider music more carefully. As you stated, we need not limit ourselves to the sword as cultivators. 

As such, I agree with you on pursuing cultivation for healing and perhaps the arts. I wonder if cultivation could be utilized in the visual arts, as well. I tried to speak of it with fuqin but he seemed disinterested and called the idea “quaint.” I believe it is a good idea—no one thinks the Lan quaint for pursuing musical cultivation, and I have heard a branch of the Wen sect is known for its healing cultivation. In fact, you might look into them, though I don’t know what branch it is. 

It sounds very much like you have used cooking almost as a healing art for the benefit of your brother. I wonder if, like with medicine, qi can be infused in food somehow. Maybe not for healing, but for other things like comfort. I have never considered this before, and I am enjoying this discussion. I may research it in the library here, but I would like to know what you find if you look into it as well. Regardless, your cooking sounds powerful on its own. 

I had not considered the status of your body, which you mentioned was weakened by your childhood illness, and I am relieved you did not injure yourself in the attempt. That is a very real consideration if you push your body too much; I once tried one of the more advanced Jin sword techniques before I was ready to and wound up hurting my shoulder. I’m glad Lan-xiansheng prevented any harm from coming to you. 

I will see if there is a konghou score for it in the Jin library, but it could probably be adapted for the konghou by a musician, perhaps with different levels so you can start with a simpler version and then progress as you improve. That’s usually how I learn footwork and sword technique. I’m not sure if your sect trains the same way. 

Your description of your brothers eating basi pinggou made me smile, as I do the same thing. It’s part of the fun of eating it when it’s hot. I’m happy to hear you enjoyed it, and I hope you also enjoy the other dishes when you get to try them. 

Some of our cuisine is spicy, but I can scarcely imagine eating something spicier than Yunmeng dishes—your brother must like strong flavors. 

I have been living in Koi Tower my entire life, but somehow had never gone to the kitchens before. The cooks were very startled to see me. I asked about the dishes you mentioned, and one of the cooks was familiar with Yunmeng cuisine. She cautioned me that the spice can be quite strong but can be adjusted to taste. In Lanling, our doufunao is salty, so I was surprised it could be a sweet dish. 

The cook kindly made a small bowl of it and allowed me to watch the preparation. She used ginger in the syrup. It was a little strange at first, since I’m used to it being a savory dish, but it was quite good. I asked if the kitchen would consider occasionally serving it for dessert with dinner and making it when you and your family come to visit, and they were amenable. 

I don’t quite understand what you mean by “a gift from the lotuses,” but it is not my place to pry. Yu-furen stated she was Jiang Wuxian’s adopted sister, so it makes sense that she would also become your sister upon his adoption. 

Yu-furen’s idea about orphans and street children seems sensible, especially given your brother’s past. Some gentry may be concerned about elevating the status of such children, though. She may face criticism for this, and for the other. I know a-niang hates prostitutes, but I don’t think it’s their fault if they’re slaves. What else can slaves do but obey? Rescuing them seems just. 

Your parents’ relationship has turned quite positive, and it seems good for you and your siblings. 

I am including some of my favorite malt candies in several flavors, and enough that your family can try them as well. My favorite is the date walnut candy. I hope you enjoy them. 

With best regards,

Jin Zixuan

---------------

Jin Zixuan is a little jealous that Jiang Yanli’s family is so happy and his, well, isn’t. He’s also tentatively fascinated by their discussion of cultivation, and a little mad that his shitty father won’t discuss it with him. He’s also aware of why his mother hates prostitutes but is not willing to say so. 

From fan-created maps, it seems Lotus Pier is in Hubei province, so I used several dishes from there as Jiang Yanli’s favorites. Doufunao is called tofu brains but is a kind of soft pudding tofu. In Shandong province it would be made with savory flavors, but in Hubei it’s made with sugar. Cantonese cooking apparently uses ginger with it, and the recipe I found also does. I also found a recipe for date walnut candy that looks divine. 

Also, apparently the suona is popular in Shandong province, but also kind of sounds like the mating call of a peacock and I just couldn’t help myself. Music is one of the six arts young gentlemen would be expected to have some proficiency in, so it makes sense that he has at least rudimentary competence. 

Jiang Yanli upped the ante by sending him the candy he noted enjoying. And Jin Zixuan is not one to be outdone, so of course he sent some back, and enough for her siblings to boot! This is a matter of pride!

[thejustmaiden]

Fiction and Real Life Go Hand In Hand

This blog goes out to all those pro-Sessrin fans out there who refuse to acknowledge the very real effects fiction can have on our world and vice versa. I highly encourage other Inuyasha fans who defend/enable these shippers to read this, as well. I assure you, by no means are my intentions here to stir up trouble. Honestly, I just want some good healthy discourse for once if that’s not too much to ask. If you do decide to engage, please be mindful of that and treat others with respect and I will do the same in return. All in all, the goal of this blog is to exercise my right to speak out and be critical about content I believe to have very potentially detrimental repercussions. I ask that you not attack me or insult me simply for stating an opinion. Thank you! 

It’s like the title says, meaning fiction does matter. Where do you think we get ideas for all the stories we tell? Where do we draw inspiration from in the first place?

Real life, that's where! And yes, always with a touch of imagination! Long story short: fiction matters because real life does.

Allow me to elaborate.

Shippers of the Sesshomaru x Rin (Sessrin) pairing say it's not fair of us to throw around serious accusations or use certain deragatory terms that suggest such awful acts like child grooming or pedophilia because of the harmful implications. One of their reasonings being that some people IRL have actually lived through these traumas, so we shouldn't dare to assume they're comparable since one is just fiction and the other is not. But this isn’t about which is worse than the other, because they’re both super problematic. All we’re literally doing is making a link between grooming in real life and grooming in fiction. They mirror each other. Same issue; different mediums. We’re not undermining any one’s past experiences with grooming or the like, nor are we prioritizing fiction to diminish real life abuse. They’re both awful in numerous ways and that’s all we’re trying to say. In fact, if anything we’re attempting to demonstrate just how crucial this correlation is between them. In order to protect past victims and prevent future ones, we must remain vigiliant of the content we consume, and yes, sometimes that means we have to challenge it too. Just because it’s widely-viewed does not make it widely-accepted or well-received. It is paramount that we educate ourselves on how to be more critical of some of the harmful tropes and images that are still way too prevalent in mainstream media. Sexualizing young and pre-pubescent girls is way more normalized than some of us even realize. It’s sad but true that Sessrin is just one of many examples. I know it feels like society has failed us in a lot of ways, but it’s never too late to re-evaluate and re-learn better and more improved ways of viewing and processing information presented to us.

Our mission: Let’s not show our kids that grooming or any other form of abuse are acceptable if they may ever come to experience or encounter it themselves. Be it the real world or on screen. Deal? 

There have been a number of occasions where real life victims do speak up against the Sessrin ship and express how extremely uncomfortable it makes them feel by what it represents. The problem is that it’s becoming more evident now that many of their fans will dismiss anything purely on the basis that we pose a threat to their ship and nothing more. What it comes down to is they have no real leg to stand on and cannot possibly top any of what we have to say so instead they simply disregard it. Our inconvenient truths don't fit into their ideal *cough* OOC *cough* narrative so they just choose to be willfully ignorant. It conflicts with their fantasy, so rather than present a sound argument of their own, they flat-out reject it and offer no plausible back-up behind their reasoning besides "I don't interpret it that way." GUYS, CHILD GROOMING IS NOT UP FOR INTERPRETATION.

Just because you so desperately want your ship to come true does not mean you can up and decide to redefine a word so that it caters to your stance. Remind yourself that these are complex AND objective terms that we have no right to fiddle with to serve our own selfish purposes. This is why we can conclude that there's no debate about Sesshomaru's actions towards Rin embodying child grooming.

I apologize if any of my words are triggering by the way, so please feel free to take a break and return later if that’s more suitable for you. it's just really important that everyone in this fandom comprehends the extent in which Sessrin going canon is catastrophic. And no, I'm not exaggerating; I'm simply speaking the truth. Shippers justifying these horrible acts- yes, even in fiction- is usually due to the stubborn refusal to hear us out. No offense to anyone (just stating facts), but more times than not antis like myself feel as if we’re talking to a brick wall when we interact with Sessrin peeps. They go in circles and never expand on their perspectives. 

Just a head’s up: THIS GETS LONG. Stick with me. :p

Just look at their take on the Inukag vs. Sessrin relationships for example. This isn't a question of age gaps, this is a question of physical/emotional compatibility. Inukag are the same age mentally wise regardless of one being demon and the other not, whereas Sessrin is not and never will be, and yes, even once she's an adult. The thing is we have debunked this time and time again, because they’re not the same and therefore not comparable, but for some reason these fans won’t drop it. Nothing has changed in their argument, yet they’re persistent in bringing it up. I choose to not go into more detail, since like I said, you can find it around everywhere. I just wanted to touch upon it briefly to prove a point. Maybe it will come up again later in my blog though! 

Where was I earlier? Right, child grooming! Haven't you guys realized that what you’re doing is precisely what child groomers do to make excuses or deny any grooming took place at all? (FYI: I’m not accusing you of being child groomers yourselves.) “They reciprocated so the feelings are mutual" is a typical groomer response, but of course it varies. More often than not, victims of grooming aren't even aware they've been groomed until much later. That's how manipulative groomers are that they can legitmately convince you that maybe you're wrong in questioning their motives. Perhaps in the victim’s mind that because one huge indicator of grooming never actually took place it technically cannot constitute as grooming. They start to doubt themselves even though their intuition is telling them something’s off. They should just ignore it then since it can’t possibly be grooming if that one particular thing never happened, right? Wrong, grooming isn’t strictly this or strictly that. It's much more complicated and multi-faceted. This is why the “but Sesshomaru left Rin in the village” point upsets me greatly. HE WAS STILL INVOLVED IN HER LIFE, Y’ALL.  

On top of that, are you aware that this is the exact same kind of predatory mindset pedophiles use to describe their infatuation with children? They'll say things like, "I don't see them as an adult and a child. I see them as two people with a soul connection." Okay no joke, I wish I was lying, but that is literally a point one pro-sessrin fan on here recently used to defend this ship. It both astounds me and terrifies me that they don't see the glaring similarities they share in common with actual pedos.

Alright, I want to quickly return to what I was saying earlier about fiction's impact on real life. (Sorry, I’m a bit of a scatterbrain!)

The characters and their worlds in our stories that we dream up and bring to life are nothing short of awe-inspiring and magnificent if we so choose them to be. If it wasn't for our imaginations, stories like Inuyasha would have never come to exist. Fiction provides us an amazing outlet where we are given the opportunity to express ourselves and explore its infinite creative possibilities.

But strip away all the demons and magical components of this show we all love so dearly and what are we left with?

At the very core, Inuyasha is a story that's very reminiscent of the human experience: love, camaraderie, a sense of purpose, and much more!

So perhaps we got a full-fledged dog demon like Sesshomaru, but does that necessarily mean we can't relate to him or understand him simply because dog demons don't exist in the real world? Well, I hope that's not how you view it or else you're missing the whole point of why humans create stories to begin with. We create them to make better sense of and thus connect with the world we live in. And when you really think about it, our stories are just a celebration of life- both our struggles and our triumphs. Now I'm no philosophy professor, but I'm pretty sure they'd say I hit that nail right smack on the head. ;)

All shitty jokes aside, the whole reason I’m mentioning this specific example in the first place is because this recently came up with another Sessrin supporter. That supporter tried to defend the ship by stating that we aren't allowed to use Sesshomaru as an example to judge by since his kind don't exist in the real world.

Now if it isn't evident already, this "it's just fiction" argument is a popular go-to stance many Sessrin fans will resort to once they've run out of ideas and are metaphorically backed into a corner. The funny/sad thing is that they seem to sincerely believe this is strong enough evidence to defend their ship with, but per usual, they fail to see how hypocritical that would be. I’ll clarify soon down below. 

Seriously, since when did we decide that fantasy- or any story genre for that matter- stopped reflecting the real world we live in? I mean, we humans are the ones writing these stories. Our human influence is bound to make an impact in some capacity. In fact, we want it to!

Obviously none of us have ever met a dog demon like Sesshomaru, because how could we? Let me tell ya, this is gaslighting at its finest! This is a fictional story with fantasy elements, so of course there will be beings and creatures in their world that don't exist in our own. Does that somehow translate to the fact that nothing from the story of Inuyasha can be applied to our own personal stories or that there aren't meaningful messages to be taught and learned?

So on the flipside, if they're not screaming at us "it's just fiction" for the hundred billionth time, then they are, believe it or not, doing the reverse and comparing it to real world history. One instance of this is how they tell us we're making a big deal about something that isn't real, but go right ahead and use the history of feudal Japan to support Sesshomaru's decision to court (aka GROOM) a young girl because that's how it was done back then. And so, your point being?? It wasn't right then just because it was legal, and it's most certainly not right now. This is how all of their arguments go by the way, where you'll constantly witness a cherry-picking approach. It's agonizing to endure contradiction after contradiction in their arguments filled with nothing but holes in their logic.

I'd just like to add that if we're overreacting to this fictional ship like they love to say we are then technically so are they. They tell us things like "grow up" or "nobody is telling you to keep watching," yet fail to realize they're reacting just as fervently as we are but just on the opposing side of the same damn argument. I find it interesting how they're as invested in this show but pretend they aren't then STILL have the audacity to say it's only us who care this much!? So thank you Sessrin shippers for further proving our point that fiction is more than capable of affecting reality and the people- YES, US- who reside in it.

It's insane that people act like pedophiles and other creeps don't enjoy entertainment too like the rest of us. Believe it or not, they look just like you and me most of the time. Yes, that means they can easily pass as a “regular guy” if they so wished to. My question to you is how do you think pedophiles will take it when they discover others- underage fans more specifically- who dig the same kinda media they get off to? Maybe not in the exact same way, mind you, but there's a thin line between them when you really think about it. I mean, what other explanation is there for why literal pedos on the internet have been known to sneak into pro-sessrin group chats here on Tumblr before? (Thankfully, they were later kicked.) I know that for a fact! It's almost as if the universe is trying to tell them something they refuse to listen to elsewhere. Hhmmm I wonder what that may be. 

I imagine it’s possibly one of the hardest things to admit out loud and to themselves, but I can almost guarantee you that most of these Sessrin shippers who are victims of CSA and who still see no issue with Sessrin must be living with some sort of unresolved trauma caused by the very abuse they claimed to have undergone. It's been proven that victims who do not seek or properly receive the help and treatment they need in order to address and live with a traumatic experience such as this are more likely to perpetuate that very same abuse themselves in some way, shape or form. What if in this case fiction is enough for them, but who's to say it won’t eventually manifest itself in other more dire and far-reaching ways? It's not like we haven't seen this vicious cycle before, and I can promise you that Sessrin won't be the last. LET'S STOP NORMALIZING & GLORIFYING THE ROMANTIZATION & SEXUALIZATION OF CHILDREN. Fictional example: Usagi Drop. Need I say more? Real world example: Woody Allen. Again, need I say more?

Bottom line is that Sessrin shippers don't want us to think too critically about this ship of theirs, because if we dig too deep then they're forced to face the very troubling implications this pairing really stands for. Of course they'll never admit to them, because instead they rather double down and grasp at the same old straws as long as it means their precious ship is protected at all costs. Screw everyone else if that's what it takes, because they'll threaten to burn down legit buildings in real life if that ensures Sessrin goes canon! (True story, this happened on Twitter.) They’ll taunt and bully anyone who disagrees. Even if all you literally say is that you don’t like the ship, they’ll gang up on you. Tell them about your past experience with being groomed? They’ll laugh in your face. I wish I was kidding, but I assure you I am not.  And they say we're ridiculous and taking this way too seriously? Yeah...

The typical behavior of a Sessrin shipper demonstrates an overly aggressive front since they're usually on defense mode anyway. They only want to ship their sick ship in peace in other words. But just because neo-nazis have a right to spew their bigoted ideology, doesn't mean we don't got the right to punch them! Freedom of speech doesn't equate to freedom from consequences. And Sessrin shippers wonder why they got so many haters. Just sayin'.

Their presence on other platforms like Twitter and Reddit are some examples of how delusional and unstable some Sessrin fans are capable of becoming. Even recently, an anon here on Tumblr sent Richard Ian Cox (English VA for Inuyasha) a totally uncalled for ask telling him that "sessrin is love and there's nothing he can do about it." (That's not verbatim, but if you're interested I'll link you to it.) It appears they discovered that he didn't like Sessrin based on how he had been replying to asks, and just for that reason alone they thought they had the right to harass him. For simply stating his opinion, y'all. They didn't even have the decency to show their face either. Talk about immature and cowardly! 

Just yesterday (or was it the day before?) a fanatic Sessrin user on Tumblr- who’s also been known for hateful remarks on Twitter but those tweets have of course been deleted since then- went out of their way to not only lurk in a group chat they don’t belong to on here but to then proceed to harass a few of us in there. They had the guts to take screenshots from that group chat, tag us in posts on their page regarding what they read in there, and without our knowledge or permission went ahead and actually blogged them?? I mean, who calls out people behind their backs while they're just minding their own business?? It worries me how unhinged and out of touch with reality some Sessriners are. Not all of them, but a whole lot of them. 

It seems all they are doing is looking for trouble, as they just can't stand how much we hate this ship. So it's more than okay if they love on their ship but it's not okay if we don't and we should just keep our mouths shut. But since when do Sessrin fans have authority over our opinions? Even if they were officially canon, nothing is ever gonna change our opinion. Now when they actually do decide to participate in discourse with antis, you'll see them fishing for excuses to bow out. How they normally go about this is by fabricating a way to blame us antis for their exiting a conversation as if we're being the irrational ones here.

There’s no denying that some antis can also be overly blunt or aggressive (nobody is saying we’re perfect here), but speaking for myself, I know I would never make such nasty comments about other fans and their personal lives. And honestly? It would make me feel like shit talking bad about someone I don't actually know. Nah, I won't stoop to that level or give haters that satisfaction. I may not attack them as people, but that doesn't mean I can't attack some of their messed up ideas that threaten to distort how we should or shouldn’t perceive certain dangerous situations and events. Seeing as how for me this is more than just a matter of opinion- it's a moral responsibility and even an obligation.

I know it's difficult to remain civil when things get heated and people start taking things personally- yet more proof that fiction impacts our lives- but that's the only way any of us will ever have constructive discussions about serious topics like this. Unfortunately, Sessrin shippers, from what I can tell, are incapable of engaging in real discourse for the most part. They may be vocal but that doesn't mean they can pack a punch. I’d really love to be proven wrong someday.

Okay, moving on! If they're not involved in some big-time gaslighting then they're using their infamous strawman argument approach.

Sessrin fans’ sole purpose isn't really to defend their ship, per se, but rather to deflect and antagonize. They like to mislead in order to shift the focus/blame onto their opponent or something else that's not related so that they can stray from the main point. 

Take the drama CD for example. It's officially NOT considered canon, right? But that hasn't stopped many fans from referencing it anyway so let’s too consider it for a moment. The point is that they use its "existence" whenever convenient then deny it or downplay it whenever it’s not. So on one hand, it's plain as day that they celebrate it as proof of a romantic future for Sessrin. But then later once we point out to them that Sesshomaru is essentially confessing to Rin that he will wait for her until she's of age, they'll brush it off and quickly add that they didn't interpret the scene that way and leave it at that. I mean how else would you interpret it? And if it's not a proposal of sorts then why exactly are you bouncing off the walls about it to begin with?? If that's all it means is nothing then why are we even talking about this?! You see what I mean here??! And somehow we're the crazy ones? 

Let me to be frank with you. If you haven’t listened to it already, this proposal he offered her sounded like a declaration of love in a multitude of ways, which is wildly inappropriate since Rin was only 12 at the time. Signifying that Sesshomaru was/is indeed grooming her. Well, that is if you choose to recognize the drama CD. Nevertheless, whether you do or not, I personally hate that this non-canon satire is even associated with the Inuyasha name to begin with. Ugh. 

Intentional or not, Sesshomaru made a deliberate decision in that moment to tell a little girl- and not just any little girl mind you but a girl he's taken in under his care for a good year- that he would wait for her if she so chooses once she's old enough. 

The issue is that it isn’t only age of consent we’re concerned about regarding this pairing. What Sessriners fail to see is that this grown male authority- her vassal, her guardian, her adoptive father, or whatever you wanna refer to him as- is basically making a move on this girl he had in his company for quite some time. There's no sugarcoating that. Us antis call it how it is, and I'm sure as fucking day other people who don't watch the show would most certainly agree that the Sesshomaru/Rin bond is filial. Set aside those rose-tinted glasses of yours, and going by everything we’ve been delivered in the manga and parts of the anime (and NOT the drama cd), there are literally no hints that indicate a blossoming romance between this adult male demon and this small human girl he’s taken under his wing. You can imagine them all you want if it pleases you, but that doesn’t mean they’re there. Adult!Rin is a figment of your imagination, nothing more. The idolization of this pairing is pretty disturbing seeing as all we have to go off of in canon is Child!Rin. There have only ever been sweet and innocent moments passed between the two, which is why I’m positive that an unbiased viewer or an outsider would state their dynamic resembled something akin to a father-daugther relationship. I would bet a shit ton of money on that, believe you me!

Rin's inhibitions are low because children are naturally naive and don't know any better. Remember, she adores and trust this man with all her heart, so why would she think any of this so-called grooming is not normal behavior. (I only say “so-called grooming” because I don’t think Sesshomaru bringing her gifts in the village has to be a romantic thing.) Or how would she ever be able to understand that she’s being taken advantage of if she has no previous experience with it? Maybe if she was present for that time Inuyasha and the gang scolded Miroku when they had learned that years previous he had supposedly proposed to this young girl in the village they were visiting, then Rin would. And he didn’t even assist in helping raise her but look at how they reacted! How is this any different than Sesshomaru hooking up with Rin later? It’s actually worse in Sessrin's case. Do you honestly believe that Inuyasha and the others would take kindly to this?

It's not uncommon and considered harmless for young children to have crushes on adults, after all, but the adults in these scenarios should never resort to using and abusing the position of power they held or continue to hold over this child for any reason whatsoever.

What I'm trying to get across here is that no matter how you spin it, Sessrin can NEVER be deemed a morally acceptable pairing. Like ship what you want, we're not saying you can't ship Sessrin. What we're saying is this:

STOP referring to their bond as "pure" and not expect backlash for your grossly inaccurate statements. Just admit it's toxic, because it's extremely harmful to many viewers- and not just victims- to pretend and suggest otherwise.

Please remind yourself of the very real canon fact that Rin traveled with Sesshomaru and they established a bond all while she was just a girl. Oh, and he saved her life too many times to count, not to mention brought her back from the dead TWICE. This is why I don't care much for your counter argument "that dynamics can change over time," because although that's true, like with everything in life there must be standards we adhere to. Exceptions to rules, if you will. Our own basic morals demand it.

For instance, it’s normal that some childhood friends begin to like each other as more than friends years down the road. Nothing wrong with that, because that's a natural and healthy occurrence. Now you cannot apply this to an adult and a child for obvious reasons, but what you also cannot do is apply this to an adult who met and knew another adult while they were still just a child. Why? Well, because it'd be like betraying and perverting that former child's view of you. They were never your equal because your established dynamic resembles that of one an adult posesses with a child even once they've grown up. Think about it this way: it's in the same bracket of family members or family friends who've watched you grow up and mature into an adult. Then later just because they're all grown up, does that mean that those children "are not off bounds" - that's quoting a Sessrin shipper by the way- to these certain family members and family friends? 

If you're still struggling to grasp this, I urge you to take a moment (or all the time you need!) to really put yourself in that child's shoes and self-reflect. Would you truly be alright with a family friend you haven't seen in years (but sorely missed because they used to occasionally babysit you) just someday coming back into your life and then very inappropriately flirting with you or even making sexual advances on you? (Sorry for the run-on!) Or even worse, can you picture this happening to one of your own children??! Seriously, ask yourself that and sit with that for a while and really take it all in. It’s not fun, I know, but if that’s what it takes to help you finally understand then please try and practice more ways to utilize your self-awareness in the future. It’s for everyone’s benefit, not only yours, I promise! You'll also find it makes it tremendously easier to empathize with others.

I got news for those fans who don’t view Sesshomaru as a father figure to Rin. The title we give him doesn’t hold as much weight as a lot of us are making it out to be. Let’s try to be neutral here and stick to the hard facts, shall we?

*Sesshomaru is an adult male authority whose protection Rin is under*

*It’s safe to assume that Rin has grown attached to him and maybe even looks up to him*

*They care about each other and the other's well-being*

*He has has played a crucial part in her supervision and care for a significant period of time (yes, even if it’s just passing a message along to Jaken)*

Not so random anecdote: In an Inuyasha episode I recently revisited, Sesshomaru had just rescued Rin from Kohaku who had been possessed by Naraku and was ordered to kill Rin. Anyway, at the end of their scene you can hear Jaken ask out loud, “what should we do for dinner, Lord Sesshomaru?” And that’s about the most domestic thing I’ve ever heard come out of his mouth. They’re such a family dammit and nothing will ever change that!! <3

This is precisely why I could never in a million years view those past students of mine in a romantic light. I don't care how many years have passed, it's just not possible for me. Just the idea of pursuing a romantic and/or sexual relationship absolutely repels me.

Speaking as a former teacher, you don't need to be a parental figure who's around all the time in order to have great love and affection for a child. I would've done absolutely anything in my power to protect them even though they weren't my own. Then again, I did consider them my children in a way even if wasn't in a familial sense. Does that make my love for them any less unique? No, it's just different but not inferior. When you stop to think about, it really doesn't take as long as you may think to establish rapport with a person, particularly children. Connecting with a child is almost instant (but of course some are more receptive than others), and once you do make that special connection one can only make with a child, a strong and overwhelming need to guide and protect them kicks in almost automatically. The unconditional love an adult feels for a child is powerful and constant, and nothing should ever change that. As much as some of you really want to believe otherwise, that feeling doesn’t just go away because they turned 18. In your eyes, they’ll always be that kid.

I get it, sometimes when we escape into these fictional worlds of ours, it's difficult not to project our own wishes and desires onto certain characters. I don't blame fans for picturing themselves with Sesshomaru- I know I did haha- but never once did I self-insert myself as Rin. I know she's one of the biggest catalysts for his character growth- if not THE biggest- but how and why does that need to turn romantic? There are other antis who I have spoken with on this. They informed me that they used to live vicariously through Rin and ship them together, as well. As they got older, they later learned how weird and twisted this ship actually was. That's what's supposed to happen, y'all, you're supposed to grow out of that fixation. 

Now take your mind out of the Inuyasha universe for a second and hypothetically (or not hypothetically if you have kids) answer me this: if and/or when you ever have a child, would you genuinely be comfortable with the idea of them dating and eventually marrying their father’s best friend who was also there to witness them grow up? Be honest please. 

I highly doubt you would want that- or at least I hope not. You see, that's another MAJOR point I've made a few times already and yet you Sessrin shippers continue to avoid the question. It's pretty obvious it hasn't been rhetorical either. Ignorance is bliss?

Finally, I’d like to address one more point. It seems there is a HUGE misconception and I'd like to clear it up real quick. That is Sessrin shippers misinterpret one of the issues we have with this ship. They chalk up our complaints of Sessrin being canon (which is a LIE, nothing has been confirmed yet) to us just being salty because that somehow means our ships aren't or won’t be. I assure you, readers, other antis and I will attest that this ain't about dumb shipping wars, this is so much bigger than that!!!

I noticed recently that some Sessrin fans have even begun calling us Karens lolol like if anybody is a Karen it's them! This ain't about some mere difference in taste, this is very likely to have LONG-LASTING NEGATIVE EFFECTS. Sessrin going canon is a very harmful message to send viewers and children/teens especially. So if anything, it’s these shippers who are being the entitled ones here thinking that the fact we don’t support their ship is the worst thing in the world. NO, THE REAL PROBLEM IS CHILD GROOMING. GET OVER YOURSELF.

Out of nowhere, some of them even started assuming all us antis were white, which in their books is also equivalent to Karens or even white supremacists somehow?? Those aren't one in the same, but it's easy to make it appear that way when the US is currently tackling major systems of oppression and racial injustice. Because to them, all antis must be from over here. (Yes, I'm American. But no, I'm not white.) How else can anyone explain not shipping Sessrin, right?! Somehow they have it in their heads that ALL of Japan and surrounding places are super approving of this ship, and that everyone else isn’t because of their upbringing and “Western way of thinking.”  

To give you an idea of what I mean, look back at what I talked about earlier with their incessant mention of Sessrin vs. Inukag. Because THIS is another popular example of how these shippers present their side and then ignore all the facts. Many fans have already proven how fucked up and inaccurate it is to label whole countries and cultures. It’s like they simply think mentioning it makes it count even though we’ve discredited their points over and over. Nah, you got to back it up with good reasons that support your side of the argument. That’s How To Have An Argument: 101. So at the end of the day, all they're actually achieving in doing is making dumb and entirely unrelated accusations based on nothing just to lead to deductions that are equally unfounded. Nothing at all is accomplished but more gaslighting and hurling of insults on their part = a complete waste of time for antis = an excuse for them to peace out early from the conversation & that’s what they wanted all along

We’ve reached the end (finally! sorry for all the rambling!), and I hope those of you who stayed till the end or read enough can take something positive out of this. As many Inuyasha fans are aware, there will be a livestream with the VAs for Sesshomaru and Rin coming out within the next few hours. We don’t have all the details yet, and afterwards we probably still won’t. I’m not just talking about Sessrin here but about the sequel in general. Whatever happens, please just remember to be kind to one another. If you don’t think you’re capable of doing that, then it’s best you vent and fume elsewhere. Easier said than done, I know, but just try. Throughout this blog, I admit there were moments where I got frustrated and took some jabs at Sessrin shippers. Please believe me when I say that I do not and would not ever wish any of you ill will. 

Inuyasha was such a huge part of my childhood, and I’m not gonna lie, I’m anxious as hell that Sunrise will ruin one of the best things I loved about this show. So pardon me if my reactions are too visceral for your liking. haha Also, like the movies and the drama cd, this sequel is not in fact canon. Therefore, for those of you who disagree or who still plan to enjoy this new series, respect the fact that some of us fans will definitely “cancel” it if we feel that’s what we have to do to come to terms with it and move on. Fans have that right, after all. Why should we get on board with something if it’s so uncharacteristic of and unrecognizable from the original source material? If all this is some sort of cash grab of Sunrise’s doing, then count me out. I truly hope that this sequel turn outs being a lot more promising than a lot of us are expecting. I’m begging you, Sunrise, I wanna believe you’re better than this. Please and thank you!   

By the way, if you’re interested, feel free to check out my two other blogs on this same subject. Click here and here. The last two screenshots do not come from something I’ve written myself. If you’d like to read more from where those came from, let me know and I’d be more than happy to send you the links. Okay, bye for now. Peace out and stay safe, everyone! 

[luthienne]

Truly feel like I don't even have the strenght in me to keep trying to help or make the world 'better.' It will never happen. I say this as an indigenous latina, so it isn't like I'm a white 'ally' with 'burn out.' I've literally been fighting my whole life. Don't feel like I can keep fighting. Everything is a lost cause. I lose heart I didn't know I have with every piece of news or post I see on Twitter or anywhere else. So much pain.

ay, mi amor, i’m so sorry. please know that as much as you witness cruelty and injustice, as overwhelming as it feels, as pointless as it feels to keep fighting (not just against injustices but for your own right to feel safe, to feel hopeful, to feel valued), you are not alone, you are not fighting alone, and it is not your fight alone. the joy harjo quote from her poem “the naming” comes to my mind: “truth can appear as disaster in a land of things unspoken.”

sometimes it feels like a lost cause. we are constantly assaulted w news about more injustices, more harmful actions. utter lack of accountability. and we wonder how the world can be such a violent place, after everything, after everything. but the truth is, despite everything, the world is full of tenderness and love and humans wanting to fight for what’s right and do better than they’ve done before, to do whatever they can to help even at the risk of getting hurt, of getting caught in the crossfire bc they care so much, bc they’re not willing to let these injustices happen silently.

words feel so powerless sometimes. language feels so insufficient. nothing feels enough. mary oliver can express what i’m trying to say better than i can: 

“meanwhile i know this: evil is one part of our beautiful world. and though my writing pays it small attention, i am not blinkered; i, too, have been forced to stand close to it, and have felt the almost muscular agony of impotence before it, unable to interfere or assuage or do anything effective. though i do—oh yes i do—believe the soul is improvable. oh sweet and defiant hope!”

some days, we just have to say: “i don’t have faith today. i don’t have hope today. i don’t have the strength to fight today. i can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, i can’t understand how things will ever change. maybe i’ll have faith again tomorrow. maybe i’ll have hope again tomorrow. maybe i’ll have the strength to fight again tomorrow.” and know that it’s ok. you are a human being and we are not made to endure constant horrors, what feel like never-ending battles on every front. sometimes fighting (especially things like systemic oppression) means taking a step back to take care of yourself.

i am loathe to use a choir metaphor but there’s this thing that we do when there are long lines of music: each singer drops out at different times to take a breath before coming back in, and it’s unnoticeable bc the rest of the choir is still sustaining the music. social justice in communities should be like this. you need to take a breath. we’ll still be here fighting, your community will be here to uplift you and support you and love you. you cannot continue pouring from an empty cup. you have to take care of yourself (if possible, in any way). this fight belongs to everyone. i’m so sorry that it doesn’t always feel like that’s the reality of it.

as a non-indigenous latina who grew up in new mexico alongside my indigenous latinx sisters, i recognize the harm that can come from within even the latinx community. the internalized normalization of systemic oppression, our complicity if we are not actively speaking out and working against it. it is our responsibility to step up and take on the fight in the ways that our privilege allows us. it is our job to confront racism and injustices in our communities, to not be silent, to shoulder the weight. i am here for you and w you in this fight. ♡ 

i have to believe that someday, big change will happen, that every day people are doing things that make the world a little better—and big change begins with the little changes that each of us take on every single day. it begins with people making the choice to become active in their communities, engaging w their communities about issues, looking for the places where they can donate a little bit of money even when they’re out of work, showing up to protests and vigils even in the middle of a pandemic, doing what they can to unlearn and learn and do better, voting for change, holding our elected leaders accountable. understanding that we will fuck up and that accountability is necessary (and that it is our job to hold ourselves accountable, not to expect others to do it for us). hopefully the smaller actions lead to bigger actions, hopefully this accountability carries us further in the fight than we’ve been able to go before. 

i attended a masterclass on stamina the other day--i thought it was going to be about vocal stamina (we were all opera singers), but she chose to also speak about emotional stamina, about resilience. she mentioned a ted talk she had listened to where the speaker talked about how resilient people choose where they focus their attention--is this serving me, or not? what can i change and what can’t i change? am i directing my energy toward a “positive” goal? bc we are wired to direct our attention to negativity, to danger, to threats. it is a survival instinct we all have. (i won’t get started on when we throw trauma into that mix.) she told us that our practice, not our results, is what needs to be consistent.

i personally needed that reminder: to direct my energy toward the act of simply achieving a consistent practice. all too often, my energy goes instead into the (paralyzing) fear that nothing i can do will ever be enough. the pointlessness of my efforts. the self-admonishment that my practice didn’t achieve the results that i wanted. it’s incredibly self-defeating. i don’t know if this is at all helpful for you. it is, of course, a false equivalence to say that trying to get better at singing is the same thing as trying to dismantle systemic oppression. but the reminder hit me on many levels--that everything i do isn’t necessarily going to achieve the results that i want. it’s just important that i show up to do the work.

i was chatting w my bestie @bronzeaxeli, who is an indigenous latina (and all-around amazing human being), when i received your ask. she passed along, “on the futility of fighting against an seemingly insurmountable social construct, i think my best advice is to consider how do you eat an elephant? one bite at a time. it is going to take the entire ant hill to digest this beast. but all of us together working to make the small changes incrementally will there be change. it will take a long time, but these systems weren’t built in a day. and if hope isn’t enough, then do it for the spite. living well is the best revenge. make those who look down on us paranoid, and while they are continually looking over their shoulder, they miss all of us moving forward toward our own goals.”

“You cannot destroy a soul though you may destroy a planet. You cannot destroy a song though you can make people forgetful. A soul can appear to be destroyed, and a song can disappear for a few generations only to reemerge from the heart of a child who turns and becomes a woman.”

Joy Harjo, A Map to the Next World

“To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness. What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places—and there are so many—where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction. And if we do act, in however small a way, we don’t have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.” 

Howard Zinn, A Power Governments Cannot Suppress

“No matter, I said lightly, more to myself than anyone. We will make it through this, past the edge of the wound.”

Joy Harjo, A Map to the Next World

[loveisblindfanfictionbka]

Love Is Blind: Chapter Sixteen

“So...what do you think about this?”

Robyn sighed as she shook her head, “Leandra, I do not need anymore clothes for this baby especially since I don’t even know what I’m having yet.”

“I thought this would be fun since your old ass has been on partial bed rest for the last two weeks.”

“Well, it’s not. I’m not in the mood for shopping, online or otherwise.”

“Well Sorry. I don’t know why you so grumpy anyway. You are literally being waited on hand and foot for weeks.”

“I am not grumpy. I am tired and haven’t been able to sleep”

“Why not?”

“Why else?”

“I know the baby is bigger than normal but it can’t be that bad.”

“It’s worse. Everything fucking hurts and is swollen. I’m actually on complete bed rest, not partial so I haven’t been allowed to do absolutely anything. Chris watches me like a damn hawk and Anesa is his little spy. I am so over being pregnant.”

“Well how long do you have left”

“Entirely too long. I don’t want to deliver early because of the complications but I am also really ready to get this over with.”

“Maybe you and Chris should’ve done this when you were younger.”

Robyn rolled her eyes, “don’t even.”

“Do you regret your decision?”

“Not as much as I thought I would.”

“You don't seem excited.”

“I’m having too many complications to be excited.”

“What about Chris?”

“What about him?”

“He doesn’t seem too overjoyed.”

“Really? He seems excited to me. The baby is all I ever hear him talk about.”

“He don't say much around us”

“That’s odd. You might have to ask him about that.”

“How are you two doing?”

“We’re good. Still together.”

“Engaged?”

“Nope.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“We’re not waiting for anything. My concerns before are the same as now and I’m not ready to get married again.”

“I’m still not understanding your logic. This man loves you. You love him. Y’all are having a baby together and are already raising another together. What concerns are there to have?”

“We just reconnected months ago. None of what is happening was planned. I think I’m entitled to some time to get myself together. I’m pregnant, that’s all my mind can handle right now.”

“You are really freaked out about this whole pregnancy thing.”

“Of course I am. The last thing I want is to finally have a baby and then I die giving birth to them. I do not have the mental capacity to think beyond getting through these last months. Once I’m holding this human then we can worry about all that other stuff.”

“And how does Chris feel about it?”

“As far as I know, he’s fine. We had this discussion when we were deciding on whether to keep the baby or not. I told him what I felt and what my concerns were, he agreed for us to work through it. He hasn’t mentioned feeling any differently. Has he to you?”

“No. I was just wondering because he’s been a little closed off this whole time.”

“You think so?”

“That’s what it seems like to me but then again I’m not here with him every day so you might see it a little differently.”

“I mean he’s been pretty open with me thus far, I would hope things would remain that way.”

“I don’t see why not. Like I said I’m not around him constantly so my opinion is a little short-sighted.”

“I guess but I’ll talk to him.”

“Ok. Well I need to get Maxwell from his dad’s house.”

“Have you two decided whether to get back together?”

“We have. After we flush out some more details, I’ll let you know what happens.”

“Alright. Be careful driving, Le.”

“I will, Mama. Take care of my niece or nephew in there.”

“I’m trying.”

Leandra closed Robyn’s laptop and set in on the nightstand before kissing her cheek and leaving the bedroom.

Robyn sighed as she stared at the blank screen of the television. She had been staying at  Chris’s condo for the last few weeks since the doctor placed her on bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy. She had suggested staying at her house but his condo was closer to his work in case he needed to hurry home to help her with something. When she agreed that they would keep the baby, she definitely wasn’t prepared for all this. Instead of easing her way back into his space, she was just thrust into it for the safety of herself and their child. Nothing about this pregnancy was going the way she expected and neither was their relationship in fact. She didn’t want to let on that there was something going on with them to Leandra but she noticed the same distance that had been mentioned. It was such a deja vu feeling and she didn’t want to rock the boat by mentioning it to Chris. It felt like they were going backwards.

Chris upped the speed on the treadmill as he tried to work out his mental kinks. He could feel himself sinking into depression and he really wanted to avoid that as much as possible. Robyn was miserable and he couldn’t fix it.She was pregnant with his child and he couldn’t even be happy about it because she despised it so much. It was hard having to be around her and see her lose her smile as the months went by. Maybe he made a mistake in agreeing for her to keep the baby. Maybe just because it was his dream didn’t mean it was their dream anymore. They weren’t 20 years old anymore, spruce and ready to take on the world. Now reality was starting to set in and it wasn’t as pretty as they had hoped. As he had hoped. Maybe he should’ve taken her hesitance as a sign and not pushed the issue but there’s no way he could’ve been around her and Anesa and not wonder what could’ve been, if they had decided to have an abortion. He didn’t want to live with anymore regrets. Situations like this don’t always get second chances. 

As he reached the one hour mark, he slowed the machine down to a slow walk as he tried to collect his thoughts. He had told Robyn he had a class today but he really just needed to get out of the house. He had cancelled his lecture and decided to hang out in the University gym to get his mind together. He had called his therapist and they spoke for a while; he just needed to do something physical to clear his mind as well. A few minutes later, he left the gym with his workout bag thrown over his shoulder and his phone clutched in his hand. Maybe he needed to take his doctor’s advice and talk to Robyn. Omitting his feelings had been their downfall before and he didn’t want to go backwards.

Robyn carefully made her way into the kitchen and had just opened the fridge when she heard the keys in the front door. Taking way more energy than she had cared to use, she turned just as Chris walked in, “Hey you.”

“Hey.”

“How was class?”

Chris sighed, “I ended up cancelling the lecture. Wasn’t in the mood to teach.”

“Oh. So,” Robyn paused as she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know where he had been all morning, “you hungry?”

“That’s not what you were gonna ask me, Robyn.”

“What? Sure it was.”

Chris’s brow lifted in suspicion as he set his bags down on the floor. He leaned against the island just a few feet away from Robyn and crossed his ankles, “Your face tells on you every time. I was in my office then I used the school gym for a while to answer your real question.”

Robyn simply nodded her head and turned back to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it, “I guess we all need a break every now and then.”

“How’s the baby?”

“Good. Normal movements, nothing to worry about.”

“Good. How are you?”

“Alive so I guess I’m great.”

“I don't know whether you’re being serious or sarcastic.”

“Why would I be sarcastic?”

“You sure you’re ok?”

“I’m fine, Christopher.”

Robyn took a deep breath as she started to leave the kitchen. Chris moved to grab a hold of her forearm and carefully led her to the couch, “have you been moving around all day?”

“No. I just got thirsty and I ran out of water in the pitcher you left.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Love.”

“What? It’s not a problem, I was cramping up and needed to stretch my legs anyway. So how was the gym then?”

“It was good. Got to clear my mind a bit.”

“Oh. That’s great.”

“Robyn, I think we need to talk.”

“Oh. About what?”

“I’m sure you know about what. It’s feeling very deja vu right now and I don’t think either of us are very happy about it.”

“I really haven’t done anything.”

“It’s not what you’ve done but I can tell there’s a change in you and if I know your expressions as well as I do, I sense you can tell something has changed too.”

“Chris, just come out and say it.”

“What exactly do you think I want to say?”

“That you don’t want to do this anymore.”

“This, as in a relationship with you? Of course, I still want to. Why would you think something like that?”

“How could I not? You look miserable.”

“Because you look miserable and it’s all my fault.”

“What?”

“I got you pregnant and you’re not really happy about it. I feel like I forced you into something that you didn’t want to do.”

“What? Of course not. I agreed that we would have this baby, you didn’t force me into anything.”

“That’s not what it feels like.”

“Chris, I am terrified about having this baby not because I don’t want to but because I’m scared to lose it. God forbid the first time I get pregnant is the last time I’ll ever be able to get pregnant. I get scared every time the baby stops moving. I can’t sleep because I’m not sure I’m gonna wake up. This is not the pregnancy I imagined it being.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What exactly was I supposed to say? Besides it’s not like you’ve much want to talk to me anyway.”

“And why do you say that?”

“You told me you had a class just so you could get out of the house. What do you think that says to me?”

“That I just needed some space. That doesn’t always translate into a bad thing. I know my past actions have given you cause for concern whenever I may want to take a step back from you but you gotta trust that it’s not always some horrible plot to abandon you.”

“What I don’t trust is when you start lying to me. You’ve never had a problem telling me straight up before now so why the whole class story?”

“Because you don't take much of anything well these days. You don't smile and you’re irritable. Anything I say to you is met with an eye roll and a grunt, doesn’t make talking to you very easy.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Your fear comes out as meanness and irritability. And it makes me not want to say anything because I don’t want to make you feel any worse than I already have.”

“Chris, I’m sorry. I really didn’t know.”

“It’s fine.”

“No it’s not. I guess I’ve been so wrapped up in everything going wrong that I was taking it out on you unnecessarily. Honestly, I really didn’t know.”

“I get it. This is scary especially since neither of us has been through this process before but I don’t think it’s gonna get easier with us being mad or distant from each other. It’s honestly just hard to watch you be so miserable and I can’t do anything about it which makes me feel bad then I get all depressed and I don’t want you to feel like it’s your fault so I just try to compartmentalize it.”

“But you aren’t compartmentalizing it, you’re pulling away from me. I can understand if you need space to get your mind together but all I see is you pulling away, not the reason why and I’ll never know the reason unless you tell me. Just like I can’t know that I’m being mean to you unless you say something. My mind is going a mile a minute with the worst possible scenarios. I’m constantly in pain and I’m exhausted. I tend to neutralize my emotions as a way to cope.That is no excuse for me to treat you badly and if my silence is hurting you, I need to know that.”

They both fell silent for a few moments.

Robyn sighed, “we’re both too old to be going through the motions this way. We’re clearly trying to protect each other but we’re actually hurting each other instead. It was my choice to have this baby, you didn’t force me to do anything. My irritation is not because of you so you don’t need to internalize or take it personal. If I’m being a bitch, tell me that. You shouldn’t have to sneak around or lie to me just to get some peace for yourself. If you need a break, take one. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t feel anything because I’m not feeling well. You don't need to suppress your emotions to dwell in mine, it’s not fair to either of us.”

“I don’t want you to feel unsupported.”

“Chris, I never felt unsupported, not even for a moment. You do not have to take any behavior of mine on the chin just because I’m pregnant. And don’t take this wrong, there’s nothing you can do to make this any easier for me. You can’t carry babies or birth them so I’m pretty much it for this little one.”

Chris chuckled lightly as Robyn reached over to grab his hand, “you ok?”

“For now, yes.”

“Are we ok?”

“That’s something I should be asking you. Are we ok?”

“Yea, we’re good.”

“Good.”

“Let’s see about getting you back in this bed.”

“Ugh….do I have to?”

“You can barely walk without heaving, the last thing you need to be doing is moving around.”

“It’s so blah in there.”

“I wish there was something I could do to entertain you but I’m fresh out of ideas.”

“Can you play the piano for me?”

Chris smiled, “that I can do. You need anything while I get my stuff set up?”

“Can you get me a blanket? I’d like to sit out here instead.”

“Sure. Do you need your medication?”

“No, I’m good. I took it this morning. When’s Nesa Boo coming back?”

“Later this evening. She was really excited that she made a new friend.”

“I told you letting her go to camp would be good, all those friends that were actually around here.”

“I can admit that you were right even though I am still a little paranoid.”

“She’s your baby and she’s still a baby, so I understand but she can’t be up under her daddy forever.”

“I guess she really did need a mommy in her life.”

“And I’m glad to be that for her.”

“You know you’re already a great mother, Robyn. You never needed to worry about that.”

Robyn smiled, “thanks. I needed to hear that.”

Chris moved to kiss her forehead then kissed her lips, “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

[pikapeppa]

Professor Solas/Lavellan: Dreams

Chapter 15 of Inadvisable (professor Solas modern AU) is posted! Note: I didn’t post Chap 14 here on Tumblr because formatting/I’m lazy, so if you’re following from Tumblr, make sure you don’t miss that chapter!

In which Solas and Nare have a very productive supervisor meeting. UST ahoy. 😂 ~7000 words; read on AO3 instead. 

***********************

- SOLAS -

Nare leaned away from Solas’s computer screen with a sigh. “... so after I tried for the fifth time to layer the colours and ended up with just a bunch of muddy-looking landscapes, I got fed up. That’s when I texted you.” She shot him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Bothering you on a Sunday night like that.”

He gave her a gently chiding look over his reading glasses. “I told you, you are never a bother. But this is what I mentioned on Sunday. Layering is not as useful in oil painting as it is with watercolours.” He leaned back in his chair. “What could be helpful, however, is to carry over your gouache techniques instead of the watercolour techniques. Gouache is more opaque — closer in opacity to oils than watercolours, in any case, though the opacity is not nearly as…”

He trailed off in amusement. Nare’s face had fallen into an expression that was very reminiscent of a lightbulb turning on over a cartoon character’s head. 

He smiled at her. “You see what I’m suggesting, don’t you?”

“I’ll just create the highlights after the fact,” she exclaimed. “I’ll add them at the end instead of working around the canvas to get the whites.”

“Yes, exactly,” Solas said. 

She laughed and ran a hand over her ponytail. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that on my own. I’m an idiot.”

“Don’t insult yourself, Nare,” he said firmly. “It serves no purpose.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Sorry. It’s — it’s automatic. I don’t really mean it.”

He relaxed slightly, then tilted his head. “It is not often that a piece frustrates you to this degree, is it?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “I don’t usually start over this many times. Even if I’m not happy with a study, I always just finish it so I can start fresh on the next one.”

He looked at her in surprise. “You always finish your studies?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Even if I don’t like them, I… it’s hard for me to leave them unfinished.” She sighed and leaned back against his desk, and he studied her pensively for a moment. This was something he hadn’t known about her process, and it was certainly enlightening. 

In truth, everything he had learned about Nare over the past two weeks was enlightening. In the space of a mere two weeks, Solas already felt like he was becoming well-versed in who she was. With every passing day, he learned more about what excited her and what made her nervous, the things she was most passionate about and the things that made her laugh. 

And with every new thing he learned about her, he felt more…  aligned with her than he had any right to feel, considering that they had known each other for less than a month. And it wasn’t just their increasingly lengthy supervisor-student meetings that were giving him these fascinating insights into who Nare was. 

It was the texts. The insidious, unwise, inadvisable conversations by text message that Solas was incapable of cutting off, no matter that he ought to. 

He was still trying to maintain a modicum of professional distance by not being the one to initiate the texts, but that didn’t change the fact that he was checking his phone more eagerly these days than he ever had in his life. In some small and admittedly deluded part of his mind, he had convinced himself that if he kept a small amount of distance, letting Nare be the one to initiate contact, he could maintain a veneer of innocence in this, despite his obvious culpability. 

You are the only one who believes me to be a sweet talker. Should I insist on you having a little more discipline? Are you talking back to your supervisor?

His overly candid texts, his inappropriate innuendo-laced remarks, and worse yet, the voice memos...

He was making a mistake, and he knew it. But with every passing day, he found himself caring less and less. He had never texted anyone as often or in the same capacity as he texted with Nare. His texts with Abelas and Dorian were entirely professional, and his texts with Felassan were a bit more frequent and casual with occasional bouts of banter, but he’d never engaged in anything like the texted conversations he had with Nare. And their exchanges really felt like actual conversations. Solas had never realized that it was possible to have such in-depth conversations via text.  

He had never realized how quickly the intimacy of a bond could be fostered by the simple medium of typed-out messages on his screen. 

Solas forced his mind away from the idea of intimacy and bonds and removed his reading glasses. “Do you recall how in your portfolio submission for this program, I asked you not only to submit your best works, but the ones you consider to be your worst?”

“Yes,” she said.

He nodded. “Your weakest works still displayed good technical skills, and what you remarked on were the technical errors, which told me what you already know: you have a strong technical foundation — a very good handle on perspective, anatomy, colour theory and so on.” He set his glasses on the desk. “What I found interesting is what you didn’t point out in your own weakest pieces.”

Her expression became wary, as though she was afraid of what he would say. “What do you mean?”

“Your weakest pieces all had a stiffness to them,” he said. “A rushed but almost static feel, as though you were stuck on them in some way but forced yourself to finish them just for the sake of being able to say they were finished.”

Her face slackened with surprise. “You could tell that from looking at them?”

“Yes.”

“That’s…” She trailed off and stared at him. Her expression was shifting from surprise to an odd sort of melancholy, almost as though he’d exposed her in some way that she hadn’t expected to be exposed, and he watched her changing expression with some concern.

“Did I offend you?” he said softly.

“No,” she said quickly. “No, it’s not that. I’m just…” She licked her lips nervously. “None of my art professors before ever… remarked on that.”

He frowned slightly at this. “It appears quite obvious to me.”

She shot him a tiny smile, then took a deep breath and folded her arms as though she was cold. “So you could see from those bad pieces that I was struggling just to finish them?”

“Yes, I could,” he said. “Now, having become more familiar with your work and the way you think while you’re painting, I believe that those pieces are the result of you getting trapped in a certain mindset. It is almost like you fall into a groove with them, and you become too focused on finishing them rather than stepping back to re-evaluate their quality.”

She shrugged helplessly. “I get what you’re saying, but I just… I don’t like leaving things unfinished.”

“Studies are never meant to be finished,” he reminded her. “The entire point of a study is essentially to play. To figure out the bones of your piece and to problem-solve.” He frowned. “Your undergraduate art professors allowed you to finish your studies?”

She shrugged again. “They seemed to like it when I did. They thought the finished studies were good.”

“But you didn’t,” he said. It wasn’t a question; he knew she didn’t care for her own finished studies, which was why she had submitted them as her weakest pieces.

“No,” she said. 

He frowned more deeply. “You should have trusted your own judgment in this matter.”

She gave him a small smile. “You’re saying I should have ignored the opinions of my professors?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Some professors have better opinions than others.”

She laughed. “I wonder where I can find a professor with a good opinion, then,” she said playfully.

Solas smiled in return, but he didn’t reply. Nare was half-sitting on his desk with her head tilted coquettishly, and he was visited by a heated — and very inappropriate — urge to seat her more firmly on the surface of his desk and to discipline her for her cheeky remark.

Ah yes, he would discipline her slowly. He’d strip off her pants and push her legs apart, and he’d run his tongue slowly and very teasingly along the insides of her thighs until she promised not to talk back to her supervisor anymore.

His cock stirred in his trousers, but he shunted the lustful thoughts away just as he had done every time they’d met in person for the past two weeks. His meetings and his seminar class with Nare were becoming a true test of his self-control. On the one hand, they were satisfyingly productive and intellectually stimulating; every time Solas saw Nare, she had read or watched at least one of his recommended resources, be it an article or a book chapter or a tutorial video, and the ensuing discussions they had were as satisfying as any that he had with any other scholar or artist at the university. 

On the other hand, his treacherous lust-fuelled body was so attuned to her that he had to physically force himself not to reach for her whenever she was near. 

Solas was torn: torn between his dual urges to discuss everything with her and to devour her. His only saving grace was the fact that he’d finally given in and allowed himself to fantasize about her when he touched himself — which he had being doing almost every night for the past two weeks, to his own mild disgruntlement.

He was sleeping very well, however, so he supposed he couldn’t complain.

“For what it is worth, my opinion is this,” he said. “It appears that you have gotten into a habit of making the completion of a piece your goal, and that you’ll drive toward completing a piece even if you are unsatisfied with it, or if you know something about the piece is off. But finishing a painting should not be your ultimate goal. What you should be striving for is to create something expressive — something that captures the feeling or the message that you intend to convey, whether the form of that creation is a completed painting or a half-finished study or a simple sketch.” He gave her a knowing look. “You should be striving to make something that brings you joy and satisfaction, Nare. Something you can take pride in. It is not enough to finish the piece if you did not derive any satisfaction from it.”

She smiled weakly. “I don’t know that concept artists or other professional artists would agree with you about that.”

He huffed in amusement. “You’re right. Felassan and I have had to agree to disagree about this matter. But to my understanding, you are not aiming to be a concept artist.”

“That’s true,” she said softly. She took a deep breath, then released it. “So instead of trying to always finish the piece, I should just… ask myself if I’m happy with it.”

“Exactly,” he said.

She nodded, then gave him a pleading look. “But I want the art to be good, though.”

“That’s what studies are for,” he reminded her. “Your other professors seem to have forgotten that, but the purpose of a study is to practice. To hone your technical skills as well as your ideas.”

“And what if I find myself grinding away at a piece even though I don’t like it?” she asked. “I should just… what, throw it away?”

He shook his head. “Don’t throw away unfinished pieces. Set them aside and come back to them. When inspiration leaves you dry, the best approach can often be to come back with a fresh perspective. Set the piece aside, focus on something else, let it live at the back of your mind. Then return to it when you are refreshed, even if returning to it means leaving it alone for years.”

“Years!” she exclaimed. “Have you ever left a piece to sit for years before coming back to it?”

“I have, in fact,” he said dryly. “So I believe my opinion about this matter is a valid one.”

She chuckled. “All right. I’m sorry, professor.”

His heart jolted at her playful — and provocative — use of the term. She smiled broadly at him, then exhaled and nodded. “Okay. I’ll work on just… putting things aside and coming back to them.” She smiled wryly. “I’m so impatient, though.”

“I’ll help to coach you in this,” he assured her. “I am very patient.”

“I hope that rubs off on me,” she said.

His belly flipped at the innuendo in her tone. His eyes locked onto hers, her brilliant oceanic eyes, and for a moment they just stood there, frozen in the forbidden but heated thrill that was building between them. 

She was still leaning against his desk while he sat in his chair. In this pose, this tense and heated tableau they were locked into, Nare’s knee was nearly brushing his, and he wouldn’t even need to fully extend his arm to touch her. He could place his hand on her waist, brush his thumb over her hip, trail his fingers toward the fly of her pants and peel them open button-by-button until she was panting — all with barely having to try… 

He abruptly stood up, then clasped his hands behind his back as he made his way around his desk. “As I mentioned on Sunday, I am happy to provide more hands-on instruction in oil painting techniques. Even one or two sessions could help to build your confidence with this medium.”

“I would love that,” she said. “When can we start? Where should we do the lessons?”

“I will have to check my schedule to determine the best time,” he said. “As for where: the university’s graduate studio would be most convenient. We can easily book a space.” Secretly, however, he was imagining her in his studio at his apartment. The thought of having Nare in his home, standing barefoot in front of an easel while he provided gentle guidance for her slender hands: the fantasy made him feel aroused and protective at the same time, as though he wanted to guard her from others while keeping her selfishly for his own, and he was grateful for the span of space between them as he wandered idly toward his bookshelves. 

“The grad studio space sounds good,” she said. She started edging around to the front of his desk as well. “Or, um. I… Tamaris and I have a studio space at our apartment.”

He looked at her. Her expression was shy but hopeful, and when he met her eye, she ducked her head in that bashful way that always made him want to bend her over his desk. 

She tucked a russet strand of hair over her ear and let out a little laugh. “That probably wouldn’t work, though. Tamaris uses that space most of the day for her tattoo clients and I don’t want to get in her way. But she, um, she also doesn’t work every day, she always picks a day of the week where she sees no clients, so we could always — I mean, you could come and — all my paints and supplies are already there…” 

She was babbling. She looked up and met his eye again, then let out another self-deprecating laugh and rubbed her arms as though she was cold. “Never mind. It’s a dumb idea. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

Solas didn’t reply. Truly, in this moment, he was forcing himself not to speak or to move. The way her manner shifted so seamlessly from bold and flirtatious to bashful and demure was so… fenedhis, it was a perfect dichotomy, like two glimmering facets that melded so perfectly in this one beautiful young woman, and each side of her seemed to call to something different and complementary in the depths of his soul. 

He wanted to teach her and to watch her bloom. He wanted to pin her down and make her beg. He wanted to protect her from any clumsy lovers who would fail her, and he wanted to imprint himself on her body so thoroughly that she would forget any other lovers who had come before. 

Solas wanted Nare so badly that it was a physical ache, and with every passing beat of his heart, he had to remind himself of the ugly truth: he absolutely could not have her. He could banter with her and text her and savour the undeniable electricity between them, but at all costs, he needed to remember: Nare was not his to have.

He inhaled slowly through his nose to master himself. “Let us stick to the plan of booking a student space for this,” he said. “Teaching you at your home studio would be unwise.”

He regretted his word choice the moment it left his mouth: Nare straightened with interest. “Unwise? Why?”

Because I would be far too tempted to ravish you if we were alone, he thought. “Not unwise,” he amended quickly. “Inappropriate.”

Her hopeful expression became playful. “What, you’ve never taught any other students at their studios at home?”

He gave her a chiding look, even as his heart swelled with a heated sort of amusement. Shy one moment and cheeky the next… she was such an irreverent little vixen. 

“I haven’t,” he said calmly. “But you are the first fine arts graduate student I have had since I began working at the University of Orlais.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding! Why? There must have been tons of students who wanted to work with you.”

“None that met my standards,” he said. “Felassan says my standards are frighteningly high. And that is not sweet talking, as you would say,” he added wryly. “That is the simple truth.” He paced slowly in front of his bookshelf as he went on. “You are already a very good artist, Nare. With some tutelage and guidance, I have no doubt that you will be exceptional.”

She smiled shyly and sat on the couch. “How can you have such faith in me when I don’t have  that kind of faith in myself?”

“Many of the finest artists are shackled by self-doubt and uncertainty,” he replied. “The artists who succeed are the ones who channel that uncertainty into a drive to improve their work.”

“So do you think it’s good that I’m always criticizing myself?”

“Your self-criticism can go one of two ways,” he explained. “It can become a weight that prevents you from progressing, or it can become an objective lens that will drive you to improve for the rest of your life. As objective a lens as there can be when it comes to art, at least,” he added with a small smile.

“You won’t let me get weighed down by my doubts, will you?” she asked.

He paused in his pacing and faced her. “I will not let that happen, Nare,” he said seriously. “Do not worry about that.”

“I’m not worried,” she said. “I trust you.”

I trust you. Her words were simple and guileless, but for some reason, they hit him like a bolt of emotion straight to the gut. For her to say that to him so easily and so quickly, with such perfect sincerity, even though they had known each other for less than a month… 

She let out another breathy little laugh and nervously adjusted her bracelets. “Honestly, I… I trust your judgment more than… more than any other professor I’ve ever had.”

He swallowed hard. “I am honoured by your trust,” he said quietly.

Her answering smile was sweet, and Solas admired her with a mixture of lust and regret and inexplicable tenderness — tenderness that he absolutely should not be feeling for his student, but which had burst upon him nevertheless, like a sunshower that he had been both unable and unwilling to avoid. 

For a long, suspended moment, neither of them spoke. And in this tense and electric moment, Solas swore to himself that he would never betray Nare’s trust, no matter what happened.

Nare was the one to break the silence. “We spend so much time talking about my work,” she said. “I’d love to hear about yours. Are you working on any paintings right now?”

He relaxed, grateful for the innocuous change of subject. “I’m afraid to admit that I’m not.”

“You aren’t?” she said.

He smirked. “There’s no need to look at me like that. I realize the irony.”

She chuckled. “As long as you realize it. What have you been sketching or drawing, then?”

He smiled at her. In one of their meetings, he had told her that he drew or sketched every day even when he wasn’t actively painting, and he was flattered that she had remembered that little detail of his routine. 

He shrugged and resumed his slow pacing. “I haven’t drawn anything worth showing lately,” he said — a near-lie, unfortunately. In truth, he’d been refining the sketch of the eager hands in the hopes of turning it into a fully-finished drawing. It would be the first realistic anatomical drawing he had done in several years. But he was keeping this particular piece to himself for now. 

Nare gave him a skeptical look. “Oh come on, I don’t believe that. Your sketchbook must be full of amazing work.”

“I don’t use a sketchbook,” he replied.

Her eyes widened. “Wait, really? What do you sketch on, then?”

“I draw on loose cardstock,” he said. “I dislike being constrained by the binding of a sketchbook or the height of a stack of pages. It interferes with the positioning of my hand.”

She beamed at him, and the warmth in her expression lifted an answering warmth in his belly. “What amuses you?” he said softly.

“It’s just such a specific preference,” she said. “Like a special quirk.” She tilted her head. “I like knowing special little things about you.”

He huffed and rubbed his chin. “Then perhaps you’ll be entertained to hear about the shelf of haphazardly stacked cardstock sketches in my studio at home.”

“You’re kidding!” she exclaimed. “What, just piled on a shelf?”

“Yes,” he said with a small smile. “It’s quite a mess.”

She giggled and eyed his less-than-organized desktop. “That actually doesn't surprise me.”

He playfully lifted one eyebrow. “That’s disrespectful.”

“I’m sorry, professor,” she said, equally playfully. “Are your loose sketches dated, at least?”

He winced, and Nare laughed again. “No! That’s really terrible!”

He chuckled. “Athera would be horrified if ever she saw my shelf of sketches.”

“She would!” Nare agreed. “It would be a nightmare for her. I wouldn’t mind helping you to organize your shelves, though.”

Solas carefully maintained his pleasantly neutral expression. This was not the first time Nare had hinted at wanting to see his apartment, and every time she did, he got a thrill at the thought — and immediately changed the subject to stop himself from inviting her over like he so desperately wanted to do.

“That’s a kind thought,” he said. “At any rate, to answer your original question: no, I’m not working on any serious painted pieces at the moment.”

“How come?” she said. “Haven’t you been having interesting dreams?”

“My dreams have been a bit light on inspiration as of late,” he said. “Luckily, I keep a journal to jot down my more interesting dreams so I can come back to them when I am lacking in new ideas.”

Her eyes widened in wonder. “You have a dream diary?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I’d love to see it,” she said eagerly.

He hesitated. “Well, it’s… rather private,” he hedged. Few people knew about his dream journal — only Felassan and Abelas and a couple of others — and none had ever asked to see it before. But the thought of showing something so private to Nare was dangerously tempting.

She pulled a little face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I’m honoured by your interest. It’s… uncommon to receive this much interest in my process.”

“That makes sense, if you haven’t had an art student in so long,” she said knowingly. “I bet any fine art student would be really interested in your process.”

“Your interest is what pleases me,” he said without thinking.

A flush lit her cheeks, and the flare of hope in her eyes was so obvious and so beautiful that it made him feel like he was falling off of a cliff. 

He hastily changed the subject. “I would be happy to share some of my more interesting dreams. The ones that I can recall, at least.”

She straightened. “Really? I’d love that!”

“All right,” he said. He leaned against the edge of his desk and folded his arms. “There was one dream I had of late: a figure so striking that I was forced to rise from my bed to sketch it out.” He tilted his head. “The Dalish tell tales of spirits, yes?”

“Yes, we do,” she said. She gestured at her face. “In Dalish traditions, our vallaslin was meant to help us connect with the spirit world.”

He nodded slowly. “The spirit world of which you speak is likely different from our Arlathani lore, but I suspect that our stories share their bones. In any case, the striking figure from my dream was a spirit that I call the Shadow Goddess.” He narrowed his eyes and tried to remember the details of the elusive dream. “Hidden by a cloak of the deepest black, she walked the Fade along the southern tundra — weeping, lonely, and forgotten. More than that, I couldn’t tell; I woke before her story could unveil itself to me. But the essence of her tale still lingers in my mind: a loneliness so dark and deep that even light was chased away by her endless solitude.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Nare spoke. “Solas, that’s… so sad.”

Her voice was small and slightly breathless. When Solas met her eye, it was to find her looking very serious, but also somehow… on edge. Not nervous, not afraid, but still on edge somehow. 

“It was a very sad dream, yes,” he said softly. “You can see why I haven’t been able to bring myself to paint it yet.”

She nodded. “I can’t decide if I’d want to see it painted or not.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” he asked.

A tiny frown creased her brow. “If it meant you had to be that sad to paint it? I would never want you to be that sad.”

He smiled faintly. “I suppose you have a point. I should be grateful that I have not yet had the heart to paint the lonely Shadow Goddess.”

She nodded, then leaned forward a little bit. “Can you tell me another dream?”

“Certainly,” he said. “Let me try and recall another.” He stepped away from his desk and sat on the other end of the couch. “There was one dream I had — a dream inspired, in fact, by an article I read in an Elvhen history journal.”

“An article? Really?”

He nodded. “The article was about the ruins of ancient Arlathan. When finally I went to sleep, my sleeping mind was mired among the burning ruins of the ancient city.” He crossed his ankle over his knee. “Marble towers and arches stretched above my head, higher than the eye could see, but all of it grew black with ash: the burnt remains of a once-grand home, unable to stop its own demise.”

She nodded and let out a slow and slightly shaky exhale, and Solas frowned. “Nare, are you all right?” he said. Her expression was still serious, but she looked even more tense than before. Her knees were pressed together, and her fingers were clenched in the leather seat of his couch.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “I, um… your dreams are always so sad.”

He studied her carefully as he replied. “This dream wasn’t sad, in fact. It was filled with rage.”

“Rage? Why?”

“It is commonly believed that ancient Arlathan was burned during the old wars between Arlathan and Tevinter,” he said. “But the article I read revealed the truth: the city had been burnt before those wars had even reached their heights — burnt from within by its own people.”

Her eyes widened with surprise, but Solas couldn't help but notice that the tips of her ears were pink, almost as though she was getting flushed. 

Curious now, he went on. “Rage was what defined my dream. The blackened ash that stained the stones and hid the beauty of old Arlathan: marks of rage, brought upon the city by its own forgotten people.” 

She inhaled slowly through her parted lips, and Solas’s own breath stalled in his chest as he watched her. She was shifting subtly on the couch, arching her spine and brushing her knees together in a distinctly restless way…

He suddenly realized what was going on.

Her tense posture on his couch. Her request to hear more of his dreams, and her shameless texted requests for voice memos. Her precious confession, saved in his phone, that ‘I really like your voice’... 

The realization hit him like a thunderclap — an incredible, terrible, maddening thunderclap. 

She was getting aroused.

She nibbled her lower lip — fenedhis, it wasn’t fair, he wanted to be the one to nibble that lip — then she looked him in the eye. “Can you tell me another?” 

He stared at her, stunned with wonder. Nare was turned on by the sound of his voice. And by requesting more stories, she was shamelessly asking him to arouse her even more.

This was bad. He should say no. He ought to say no. He knew exactly how dangerous this was for them both, and it was his responsibility to say no. 

But that smug and foolish sense of pride was unfurling through his limbs again, taking control of his body and making him shift slightly closer to her on the couch. 

He lowered his voice. “I will tell you one last dream,” he said.

She nodded. “Yes please,” she breathed.

Yes, please. Ah, to hear her say this in a much more intimate context — and with considerably fewer clothes between them…

He leaned back and draped his arm along the back of the couch. “This final dream I’ll share with you was about a garden,” he said quietly. “Flowers bloomed across a vast expanse, stretching far into the haze of a horizon that my eyes could not perceive. But these flowers were unlike any I have ever seen. And this, I admit, is why my hand has never given shape to this particular dream: the flowers in this garden were so strange and foreign that I couldn’t hope to replicate their likeness.”

He paused for a moment to study her. Her eyes were half-closed and her lips slightly parted, and a rush of nearly-vicious desire fanned through his body. The look on her face right now, this look of languorous and shameless desire: how many times had he imagined such a beautiful expression on her face? How many times had he imagined seeing her look like this while he stretched her arms above her head, while he dipped his fingers between her legs, while he whispered soft and heated words into her ear — not unlike what he was nearly doing now?

Her eyelashes fluttered for a moment, then lifted as she turned her head to look at him. “Please,” she said. “Can you tell me more?”

Please. Such a simple and innocent word, but in Nare’s husky voice, it sounded anything but innocent.

He hesitated before speaking, however. There was, in fact, more to this particular dream that he could tell her, but he knew he shouldn't. 

And for that reason, his contrary and lustful lips opened to tell her anyway. “At first, the garden was like any other: rich in colour and pleasing to the eye,” he said. “But as I waited in that garden, I discovered that those blooms were not just simple static flowers. With every breath that filled my lungs, the flowers seemed to pulse and sway. Their pulsing was… familiar somehow, like a song I had once known and had forgotten: the heartbeat of a foreign place, made familiar again by the whims of my sleeping mind.” He leaned toward her slightly and lowered his voice a little more. “I felt myself begin to wake, but I wasn’t ready to rise yet from that strange and familiar dream. I remained in that garden, feeling the pleasing floral beat as it swelled inside my chest, and when finally I woke…” He trailed off. This whole suggestive story was leading toward one conclusion, and it was a conclusion that he didn’t dare verbalize to her, not even with this misplaced cocky pride that had taken control of his tongue.

She gazed at him, her expression avid with curiosity and desire. “What happened when you woke up?” she asked.

He raised his eyebrows, and her eyes went very wide. “You — did you, um…” Her eyes darted to the bulge at his crotch, and Solas felt himself throbbing as though his cock was summoned by the heat of her gaze. 

Her eyes returned to his face, and she swallowed hard before speaking again. “Did you have to take a shower when you woke up?” she whispered.

“I’m afraid so,” he said, very quietly.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh gods. Um, that’s…” She clenched her fingers on her thighs, then pressed her knuckles to her mouth, and Solas studied her very obvious reaction with all the ravenous hunger of a wolf studying its mouth-watering prey. 

Nare closed her eyes, and for a long, delicious, endless minute, Solas stared at her while she dragged in a series of deep and tremulous breaths. Her knuckles were pressed to her lips as though to muffle herself, and her other hand was clenched on her thigh, and Solas wished that he could push her hand away and replace it with his own. 

But he didn’t reach for her. He didn’t shift any closer to her on the couch. He stayed exactly where he was, still and unmoving with one arm draped casually along the back of the couch. For all that he craved her, for all the lust that was howling in his blood as he studied Nare’s arched spine and her fiery red hair that he longed to wrap his hands in, he couldn’t bring himself to touch her first. 

If she touched him, however… 

Fenedhis, he didn’t know what he would do. At this particular moment, he was fairly sure that the mere brush of her finger on his knee would be enough to make him pounce.

I can’t, he thought desperately. With an enormous effort of will, he forced himself to stand. “Well, I hope that this meeting gives you enough guidance to try again with your study,” he said briskly. “And I will certainly email you about a time for us to meet at the studio for a lesson.”

She lowered her hand from her lips and looked at him, and he very nearly quailed. The look in her eyes, the sheer uninhibited lust and pleading in her beautiful face: her expression was exactly as he’d always imagined — no, it was better than he’d imagined. Both better and worse, if he was honest. The naked desire in her face was better than he’d imagined, because it was real: it was real and true, tangible and visible proof that the way he felt for her was mutual and shared.

And it was worse than he’d imagined, because this incredible feeling was completely forbidden. 

She tilted her head pleadingly. “Solas, please…” 

Please. He couldn’t bear to hear this word from her, because it was exactly what he wanted to hear. 

He shook his head slightly — both for his own sake and hers. “That’s enough for now, Nare,” he said. “Come.” He made his way over to his office door and waited for her to rise. 

She closed her eyes for a moment, then exhaled heavily and stood up from the couch. She adjusted her purse on her shoulder as she joined him at the door, and when she reached for the doorknob, he was torn between relief and a very visceral sense of loss. 

She paused and looked up at him. “So I’ll… I’ll see you on Thursday morning, then?” she said breathlessly. “For our usual meeting?”

He smiled, genuinely amused despite his horrible desire. “You’re forgetting about our seminar this afternoon.”

Her jaw dropped, and she burst into laughter. “Oh no, I did!” she exclaimed. “We really are fated to keep forgetting about the seminar!”

He grinned and clasped his hands behind his back. “To date, you have forgotten more often than I.”

“It’s not my fault!” she protested.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting that I’m to blame for your poor memory?”

She laughed again, then gave him a sly smile. “Not for my poor memory, no,” she said quietly. “For your sweet talking.”

He huffed, but her words gave him a little pang of guilt. Now that the worst of his prideful lust was starting to abate, the reasonable part of his mind was growing louder and clamouring at him for his extremely irresponsible behaviour just now.

He bowed his head. “You are probably right. I should curb my tendency to talk at such length.”

To his delight and his deep dismay, she took a little step closer to him. “Or maybe I should try some sweet talking of my own,” she murmured.

His semi-calm cock instantly hardened once more, but he forced his expression to remain neutral. “I wouldn’t advise that,” he said.

“Why not?” she asked.

He gazed into her eyes: her bold and beautiful cerulean eyes, bright with laughter and mischief — provocative eyes to go along with her provocative smile… 

Provoked by Nare’s taunting, his barely-leashed sense of lustful pride reared its head once more. He took a step closer to her, and her eyes widened. 

Then he took another step closer to her still, and another, and then she was backed against the office door while Solas loomed over her. 

He placed one palm carefully on the door beside her head. “You know exactly why,” he said, very quietly.

She didn’t reply. Her eyes were huge and feverishly hot, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed. Beautiful, he thought dizzily. Nare was beautiful and lustful and brilliant, and most strange and unfathomable of all, she wanted him. But… fenedhis, this was utterly and completely inadvisable, and they both knew it. 

She nervously licked her lips, and Solas’s gaze helplessly dropped to her mouth. She lifted her chin—  

Someone knocked on the door.

They both jumped, and Solas hastily stepped away from her. “Just a moment,” he called. “I’m finishing a meeting.”

“All right,” Abelas replied through the door. 

Solas exhaled through his pounding heart and looked at Nare. She was covering her mouth with both hands, and her eyes were huge. 

He gave her a reassuring look. “Be calm, Nare,” he whispered. “You’ve done nothing wrong.” 

She nodded and took a few slow breaths, and Solas carefully backed away from her. A tense moment later, she lowered her hands and gave him a sheepish but beautiful smile. “I’ll see you later,” she whispered. 

He nodded, then smoothed a hand over his scalp before gesturing politely at the door. Nare opened the door and smiled at Abelas as she stepped out of the office.

“Hi, Professor Abelas,” she said politely, and Solas felt a completely unreasonable rush of possessiveness. He was feeling jealous about Nare calling Abelas by his own title? He must be going mad. 

Abelas nodded to her. “Nare,” he greeted. He stepped into Solas’s office and held out an envelope. “Tamlen gave this to me by mistake.” 

“Ah,” Solas said. He took the envelope and carefully did not watch Nare as she walked away. “Is that all?”

Abelas nodded briskly. “I’ll be leaving the office for an early lunch. I’ll go straight to my one o’clock meeting when I am finished.”

Solas raised his eyebrows, actually distracted by this surprising news. “You’re leaving the office for lunch? Is there a lecture happening somewhere?”

“No,” he said. “It is a working lunch. A last-minute arrangement.”

“Ah,” Solas said. “My condolences.” He was well aware of Abelas’s distaste for last-minute plans. “You couldn’t turn it down?”

“Apparently not,” Abelas said ruefully. “I will see you later.” He turned away to return to his office, and Solas closed his office door. 

He made his way over to his desk, then plopped down in his chair with a sigh and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He really must be going mad. Allowing himself to be provoked by Nare’s subtly arched spine and her soft little murmurs of please, telling her tales about his dreams even though he knew that his voice was riling her up, pinning her against the door and staring at her lips like a mindless lustful fool…  

He rubbed his face, then straightened in his chair and clicked his mouse. He opened his documents and forced himself to concentrate on the article he’d been translating from Elvhen to common, but even as he worked on his translation, part of his mind was greedily running through his meeting with Nare, picking out the most deliciously suggestive things she’d said and done and storing them away for later when he was alone.

Her coquettish smile… Solas, please.. The arch in her spine as she sat on his couch… Maybe I should try some sweet talking of my own… The heated, feverish, pleading look in her eyes as he pinned her back against the door… 

He cock throbbed insistently in his pants. He sighed and ignored it, then went back to tapping away at his keyboard. 

Nare’s degree was going to be a very long two years. 

[suf-lives-rent-free]

Fragments

Everything below is just my opinion; I am in no way trying to say that how I feel about this is the one correct take or whatever.

I know a lot of people like this episode and what happens in it, but I don’t.  I totally understand that some people just don’t want to see any negativity, period, but negativity is not inherently bad or wrong.

Negative opinions, even about something you enjoy, can be valid too - regardless of whether you happen to agree with them or not.

Also I get very salty near the end of this, and that might be entertaining to people who stan this episode?

I am aware that a lot of people – the majority, I’m pretty sure – think that the episode is a masterpiece. And on some level, I see where they’re coming from with that assessment.

The episode is boarded beautifully, the backgrounds – especially during the training montage – are stunning as always.  The music is fantastic, and the performances are great too.  In these respects, Fragments is a stand-out episode; I agree.

(Like look at this.  Gorgeous.)

However, something that’s bothered me since I saw the episode is the writers’ decision to write it into the story that Steven shatters Jasper.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: I just don’t get it.  I’m purposefully misinterpreting the story to say it’s bad.  Steven brings her back to life; and it’s not like he meant to do it in the first place.  I just don’t have the capacity to understand the sublime nature of the show’s storytelling.  I’m an SU crit and all I want to do is make the real fans feel about themselves for liking it.

Uhhhh... no.  Nah.  That ain’t it chief.

It’s true; I am not a writer.  I’m just a passive consumer of media.  However, I do not agree with the viewpoint that in order to properly understand or critique a thing you need to have the expertise and/or experience in order to make something similar.

For example, if I were to put something I drew when I was 10 years old next to something I drew yesterday, it shouldn’t take a person who has had an education in fine art to tell you that the latter drawing is better-looking than the former.

That’s how I approach media consumption and criticism; when I criticise a writing decision, I am doing so as a consumer.  I’m not saying I could write it better, or even that my opinion is objectively correct and the writer is wrong or bad.  I’m just saying that I didn’t like a thing.  Which, I would hope, is allowed?

Okay, defensive hedging over, back to the point; I don’t like that they had Steven shatter Jasper.

[I get markedly saltier from this point on, fyi]

Full admission of bias here: one of the things I really cherish about the original show is how they wrote Steven’s character; he’s a boy with interests that don’t rigidly conform to gender stereotypes.  He likes ‘boyish’ things and ‘girly’ things, and that’s okay; thats just him.  In cartoons when I was growing up, characters like Steven would be the butt of jokes about being ‘girly’ or thinly-veiled homophobia.  I find him very relatable, and I want to acknowledge that yes, that is probably a significant part of why I have such an issue with this episode’s twist.

I am not trying to say that he’s a perfect baby angel or whatever; Steven regularly gets frustrated and angry. He does some pretty manipulative and dickish things to people around him (stop trying to make Larsadie happen, Steven. It’s not going to happen).  He is a flawed character who fucks up sometimes. And he’s not 100% peaceful either; he acts violently when he defends himself against corrupted Gems and Homeworld Gems (and Crystal Gems on occasion *cough*Bismuth*cough*).  

However, he has a pacifistic temperament; whenever it’s possible, he prefers that problems be solved without needless violence or hurt.  And I like that; in most media, it’s rare to have a male protagonist who wants to solve their problems without jumping straight to punching things.

When he accidentally frees Centipeedle, he convinces the Gems to step off and allow him to try and rehabilitate her peacefully; he even notices that the Gems’ weapons are a trigger for her, and make them put them away.  He frees Lapis against the Gems’ wishes because he recognizes that keeping her prisoner is wrong, and when she steals the ocean, he talks it out and heals her so she can leave Earth peacefully.

He tries to aid Jasper when she starts corrupting, fixes Eyeball’s gemstone when she’s cracked and tries talking Bismuth down when she attacks him with the breaking point.  In all of these situations, his words and help are ignored or rejected; he’s forced to resort to violence.  And it traumatises him.  

We get an entire episode dedicated to the fact that he’s been struggling with processing these awful things that happened.

Even in Future, Steven shows hesitation about engaging in unncecessary violence; he gives into Jasper’s goading for a fight after what’s implied to be dozens of failed tries at making her come to Little Homeschool, and he spends an entire episode trying to keep Lapis from squashing the two rogue Lapis Lazulis. 

The only time he hops into a fight willingly is after Eyeball and Aquamarine hold Greg hostage, and even then they pose a clear threat to his and Greg’s safety and have made it clear that they want to hurt him emotionally and physically.  Even at that, he stops and switches tactics to talking them down as soon as they lose their focus and start bickering with each other.

(I mean, he fails.  But it’s the thought that counts.)

I personally find it really jarring that the writers found it appropriate to write it into the series that this same character – over the course of three (3) days – goes from disliking mindless violence for mindless violence’s sake to happily engaging in the destruction of plants and animals* and has done a total 180 on his willingness to spar with Jasper, to the point that he instigates their rematch.

*(You best believe plenty of small mammals and birds – y’know, like the nest Steven saved in the first episode – died as he and Jasper felled tree after tree, not to mention all of those displaced by the destruction of their habitats, and the potential loss of food sources from some of those trees.)

You’re telling me that it’s a reasonable character beat for this boy to gleefully laugh like an anime supervillain at his sudden new-found joy in fighting, then pin Jasper in place, taunt her for helping him get so strong, and hit her so hard that she breaks into pieces and dies?

You’re telling me that that’s an in-character thing for Steven Quartz Diamond Cutie-Pie DeMayo Universe do to another character?

(And yes I am purposefully dancing around talking about the mental health stuff because if I did that I’d have to go on a whole other tangent about Growing Pains and fuck I just don’t feel like it right now lmao)

Going back to Mindful Education, another big thing we see Steven struggle with is the idea that his mother shattered Pink Diamond.  This knowledge sits heavily with him; it makes him sympathetic to the Diamonds, even under the circumstances in which he sees them (escaping from the Human Zoo, and being on trial for said murder). 

He sees their grief, and he feels awful.  He questions who Rose Quartz even was.  He knows, based on what Garnet said, that Rose had to do it; there was no other way to free Earth.  But he still feels awful seeing the pain that Pink’s loss has caused Blue and Yellow Diamond.

In Steven Universe, shattering is clearly equated with execution/death multiple times.  When Pearl and Garnet fret over the crack in Amethyst’s gemstone worsening.  When Blue Diamond threatens to break Ruby.  When Bismuth introduces the breaking point, and Steven recoils at the sight of what it does.  If you want to take the fact that Gem shards are sentient and desperate to become whole again into account, you could even argue that it’s a fate worse than death. This particular act of violence is treated very, very seriously.

When we find out that Rose shattered Pink Diamond, there is a season and a half long arc unpacking the implications and consequences of this one action, and how this knowledge forever alters Steven’s mental image of his mother.  And she didn’t even kill anyone.  It was a lie!

In Steven Universe Future, Steven shatters Jasper 4 episodes before the end of the series.  And it’s only brought up twice; once for a big *gasp* moment during his breakdown in Everything’s Fine, and in I Am My Monster by Pearl, when she has to fill-in Bismuth, Lapis and Peridot.  Notably, it is never discussed around or by Jasper.  Y’know.  The person who actually died.

No indication of how (or even if) what Steven did is affecting his own self-image after his initial breakdown, how Jasper feels about what she went through beyond falling back into the Era 1 and 2 mindset.  No inkling of how the knowledge that Steven killed somebody has affected how anyone in his life thinks or feels about him; when Pearl brings it up in I Am My Monster, she seems to not even really believe it’s true.

If there are any consequences or talks about this incident, they’re skipped over between I Am My Monster and The Future, and we’re expected to assume that Steven and his therapist are dealing with it, I guess?

And yes.  It was an accident.  He did bring her back to life.  But it still happened.  If you hit someone over the head and they stop breathing, just because the paramedics are able to resusitate and stabilize them afterwards doesn’t mean you never hit them.

But here, it’s shoved aside because dwelling on it would take far too much time, and risks framing Steven in an unsympathetic way when he’s meant to be on the cusp of a breakdown.

It just feels like careless writing to me.  They really, really wanted their big action scene with Steven and Jasper, but didn’t think (or maybe weren’t interested in thinking) about the seriousness or consequences of what Steven shattering someone would entail.

In my opinion, Steven shattering Jasper is one of the cheapest, laziest things they could have ever done with his character (and hers, for that matter).  To me, the entire thing feels entirely out of character.  It’s pure shock value; nothing more.

So yeah.  That particular writing decision just does not work for me.  And if you disagree... well that’s fine?  It’s fine.  We can agree to disagree?  I’ve read a lot of defense/praise for this episode, and honestly even after processing all of those opinions and all the time my thoughts about this plotline have been stewing in my brain, I still feel the same way.

[the-blue-fairie]

I know I’m annoyingly conflicted about Frozen 2, and even when I talk about things I love about the film it comes out as a kind of compliment sandwich. I made a post yesterday where I praised one particular idea that comes from the Voice plotline - the idea that you’re allowed to want something better suited to yourself.

That’s incredibly beautiful - but of course, thinking about the positives of that concept also remind me of the negatives in its execution.

One of the frustrating things about Frozen 2 for me is the fact that, while it might want to be about Elsa choosing a better path for herself, ultimately it ends up just showing her go from one predestined path (the queenship of Arendelle) to another predestined path (as one side of the bridge, with her powers treated as less a part of her and more a “gift” tied into her mother’s actions and not her own, a path in life set down for her before she was even born and had any capacity to choose.)

And I know what you’re going to say - that ultimately Elsa chooses to take up that path for herself, but if the wheels were set in motion before she was even born, if the movie wants to bring that destiny aspect into the narrative, why can’t it reflect on it more? A case could be made that destiny elements don’t always negate personal agency. Movies, books, and shows make that case all the time as they interrogate the destiny aspects of their storylines. But there’s no interrogation here, no in-depth reflection on the concepts of free will and fate. And you might say “Well, Liza, the movie is not about free will and fate,” but then why introduce destiny at all if they’re not going to engage with it?

If the wheels were set in motion before Elsa was even born, then that naturally influences her “choices” in the film and muddies the film’s narrative. The destiny stuff merely becomes an unnecessary complication that muddies a compelling aspect of the film, and it’s made all the more unnecessary by the fact that it barely comes up. Anna and Elsa mention what Elsa was “born to do.” Elsa mentions “the reason I was born” but that’s so... surface-level. The filmmakers don’t reflect on the negative implications of that or capitalize on the story potential of the positive implications of that.

[bibbykins]

Scopophilic Affection (M)

Here it is! At last! I have had a rough couple of weeks. My roommate left me and my gf with the rest of the rent without any notice (yikes, I know. Kids, don’t break the lease, it’s shitty) soooo I’m going to plug my ko-fi below. Anything helps and would be greatly appreciated. Either way, donation or not, I hope you thoroughly enjoy and know that my ask box is open!

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: Voyeurism, choking, obsessives themes, yandere

Summary: Scopophilia is a more dignified way to define voyeurism, something Seokjin had no intention of partaking in until he came across your live stream. Seokjin is a dignified man, but never in his life had he felt so depraved watching you smile and work like it was his profession, unable to reach through the screen and make you his. Unable to tell you how much he loves to watch you because you have no idea you’re live stream even exists. He can’t tell you how hypnotizing you are without the glaring controversy of him watching your hacked-into webcam, both as a human and director in the computer science division of the company he is a board member of. Nevertheless, you were his very guilty utmost pleasure. 

A beige wall with the blandest accents he’s ever seen with a sketchy cream color. The kitchen appliances were conformity white with rust whispering its way out from under the oven. The toaster was melted on one side and he couldn’t help but wonder how. The microwave was in slightly better shape but the stains seemed to still hold the screams of food from the 1990s. The carpet was somewhere between the beige walls and the mahogany table and looked about as comfortable as sandpaper. 

This would not do at all. 

Even with the personality shining through the subpar living space, it was just not suitable. Not for much longer.

Jin was a man of exquisite taste. This, among his impeccable beauty and breathtaking aura, was some of his best-known traits. He was the sweetest dream everyone on campus would ever have the privilege to even catch a moment of. He was the Director of Software Development within the largest tech company in the country. He came from money and yet made more than enough of his own all while juggling graduate school. Beyond his professional talents, he was a natural virtuoso and musician. With fans from all sides of his life, it would come to no shock that he was a picky man. 

Ever the kindest member of the campus princes, he opted for an aura of stoic professionalism. He exchanged pleasantries and engaged in his fair share of banter with people beyond his close-knit group of Adonis-like men. However, he had a strict limit on how much he could take of people he didn’t care about.

He had everything he wanted and it was nearing time for him broaden his capacity beyond his close family and six friends by just one person. The pool was exceptionally lengthy considering his father’s very own Cinderella story and his parents’ overall good nature. And yet, nobody was fit to be his. Nobody he met even gave him anything to think about beyond their pleasantries. He would not settle for good enough, they had to be perfect. They had to be someone entertaining, someone, without such an evident facade, and even then, someone worthwhile behind that facade. Maybe he had trust issues, or maybe he knew how much one could hide in public.

While a man of exquisite taste, it was also… particular to say the least. Kim Seokjin was not built to marry these nice girls his parents set him up with from time to time, he was built for someone much greater. He had a taste for the more sinister sides that he seldom was able to properly explore with others. Kinky is a word one could use, but he believed adventurous encapsulated his preferences more eloquently. He took pleasure in spoiling someone with all he could offer as they spoiled him with their body. Empty hands begin to ache after some time. He was longing for something to grip other than himself on more irritable nights. He had found previous sexual partners who suited him just fine until they stepped out of the threshold from the bedroom. Vice versa, he had also been on perfectly good dates but with terribly bland sex. 

It was on one of the nights after a mind-numbing date that he threw himself into work whilst listening to the background noise of tech reports. All was fine until there was talk of a hard to reach website that allowed patrons paid access to people who “consented” to 24-hour streams of their lives via laptop and the highest payer owns who can view that particular person. Call it morbid curiosity or his voyeuristic side making an appearance, Jin found himself on the website with ease and scrolling past a ton of stranger’s faces. The teaser clips showed thirty seconds of the past day. 

Jin doubted the website would be up for much longer due to its legal gray area of filming people without informed consent. It seemed the website operated on a one-click user agreement to a couple of separate websites they controlled. It didn’t take a genius to see these people had no idea of their streams. On each profile, it had general demographics, the times that person was in frame, if they ever changed on camera, and even if they performed sexual acts for an audience they had no idea about. Jin felt some remorse as he scrolled from victim to victim, but something happened when he came across a bland beige wall behind an interesting girl.

Sure, he had seen many beautiful women but none of them were shown sitting in front of the camera and so adorably pouting at the camera for the entire thirty-second clip, occasional huffs of irritation coming from your plush lips. It awoke some kind of curiosity he could not understand but wanted to satiate. Were you reading emails? Had you gotten a bad grade? Were you watching a frustrating film?  It seemed you were a college student but spent your nights at home. He figured you worked full time while not at school and used that as an explanation for your socially inactive life but deprived sleep schedule. Against his better judgment, Jin gained full reign over your stream, making it exclusively for him. 

He never quite cared for sharing.

Just like that, there you were, in a large shirt and shorts as you stared at the laptop with a blank face. It went on like this and Jin began to feel silly that he made such a rash move to violate your privacy like this, not to mention the fact that he spent such a grandiose amount of money just to stare at a girl. This was obviously a mistake. He should just turn off his computer- you began to laugh and just like that, Jin was enchanted. Maybe it was the fact that you laughed so wholeheartedly despite being alone or just that you were your true self at this very moment. He had unrestricted access to you like this. He wondered what you were watching. Against his better judgment, he wondered if he could make you laugh like that.

Your phone rang, making you jump ever so slightly. Jin smiled at this, noting how easily startled you were and the way your eyes looked so kind after being broken from the trance your laptop had you in. He found himself holding his breath as you pressed the phone to your ear, waiting to hear how you sound, “Hello?”

You paused the movie you had been watching as you waited for your cousin’s girlfriend, Jaelin, to speak, “Y/n! Where are you?!” The background was loud and she was evidently drunk.

You rolled your eyes, “At home, where else?” This was a common occurrence, and usually, you would not entertain her drunk-dials, but you figured hearing another human’s voice today wouldn’t hurt.

“You should meet me! There’s a ton of parties tonight!” She screamed and you flinched at the volume her mic had to endure.

“I have this screenplay to annotate and I’m leading the stage tricks seminar in a week to practice so…” You trailed off, holding up your finished and annotated screenplay before shrugging.

“People are going to that? Seriously?” You stood corrected by yourself as a sting hit your confidence. This human’s voice was indeed beginning to hurt you.

“Professor Tarbot is having the freshman attend it so, yes, people are going to my seminar, so…” You trailed off as you heard your cousin’s voice in the background, reminding Jaelin that you don’t need to go out before the call went dead, “Lovely.” You muttered before pressing play on the movie. You were always the black sheep of the family. If familial love was kickball, you were absolutely picked last. Despite this, when you moved out as soon as you could to pursue your dreams, your family was appalled that you would leave your own flesh and blood.

Your smile noticeably died with the phone call and Jin couldn’t help but wonder what exactly happened. He missed your smile already. You looked down at your phone for a while before your lip begin to quiver ever so slightly and Jin felt his stomach churn.

“No, no, no.” You fanned your face before looking to the ceiling, “None of that, crybaby.” You cursed before sighing out and looking forward again, “Work on the seminar.”

So, you were a fine arts major of some sort. Jin thought about this as he watched you get ready for bed and eventually fall asleep in front of the laptop you took everywhere. By the end of the night, he had just about a full apartment tour. He shook off this new feeling in his chest before closing his laptop.

The week went on with Jin’s and your nightly routine remaining the same. He did his work, brushed his teeth, and went to bed. Except, he had you playing in the background. You, on the other hand, would write, procrastinate, brush your teeth in the messiest way, and return to either schoolwork or some show before falling asleep, usually at your desk or on your bed in front of your computer.

He certainly was not proud of how you would excite him in ways other women just… couldn’t. It was on one of his more irritable nights that he focused all of his attention on you. You were just watching a movie, nothing too crazy. Even so, Jin’s skin was set ablaze at the way your floral underwear was poking out as you sat on your bed with your knees up. Without fully realizing it, he began palming himself through his sweatpants. 

He groaned out as you spread your knees to sit more comfortably. You leaned back and he could almost make out what your sex looked like. Your underwear was thin, so thin. You would surely soak through them if you let him have you.

“Y/n.” He breathed through clenched teeth as you stretched. You were goggling a little at the movie, taunting him almost. He cursed as his hand sped up, “Fuck, baby.” He moaned and when you simply gasped at something Jin could not see with his eyes screwed shut as he chased his high, he went over the edge. He moaned your name out like a disciple to his savior, like you were his light at the end of it all. The experience itself was nothing less than religious and an absolute breakthrough that Jin had been trying to avoid for a long time.

From then on, Jin had been watching you under a new lens. You were no longer a morbid curiosity of his, you were the object of all this affection he never felt such an immense need to release.

“What’s up, Jae?” You answered the phone after brushing your teeth, putting her on speaker, “A little early to be drinking, no?”

“Y/n, did you hear about the ArtCast scandal?!” You jumped at her volume as you applied your skincare products.

“ArtCast? I haven’t used the site since I signed up, what happened?” Jin tensed, already knowing what the female on the phone call meant.

“Get a new laptop, now!” Jaelin screeched and you looked at your phone with bewilderment, “They have been sharing user info and hacked into laptop cams for creeps to watch on the dark web!”

Jin hardly considered himself a creep. His actions were creepy, but he was not a creep, just a curious soul. He fought the urge to try and reason with you by finding your contact information. Although the idea was scrapped since that would certainly not help his case.

You rolled your eyes at this, “I doubt anyone wants to see me laze around and edit-” 

“THIS IS SERIOUS!” You flinched at this.

“And I seriously don’t have any money to get a whole new laptop and I kinda need my webcam for work so,” You looked dead at the camera, eyes boring into Seokjin’s form, “Hi Mr. Laptop Man, if you have some spare money my PayPal is-”

“WHY DON’T YOU ASK YOUR FAMILY? I’M NOT KIDDING.”

Your eye twitched, “Don’t yell at me.” You seethed, “If they won’t pay for my school or even a meal, what makes you think they would buy me a laptop?” The pain was terribly evident on your face and your lip quivered, “Face it, Jae, you took my place and you feel bad, so that’s the only reason you even talk to me.” 

“Y/n…” Her voice was softer this time and Jin watched a tear fall down your face and felt his heart clench. He didn’t care who your family was, all you would need is him soon enough. 

“And I appreciate it, even if it is pity-based, but don’t pretend like they care about me.” You huffed, wiping your tears, “Mr. Laptop Man must think I’m so dumb.” You scoffed and Jin noticed the way your features twisted from anger to pain and melancholy. There was evidently some deep-rooted pain when it came to your family

You were isolated from them. This past week, Jin gathered that you were eccentric and not afraid to make a fool of yourself or put yourself out there. He now understood it was because your family must have degraded you to such a degree, you eventually began to take it in stride. 

“Y/n, I didn’t mean to…” 

You frowned as Jin wondered why you felt any remorse for this person, “No, I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” You sighed and glanced at yourself in the mirror and poked at your eye bags, “I’ll catch you later, okay?” You closed your eyes, “Have fun on the trip. Give everyone a hug for me.”

“You could come-”

You clenched your fists against the counter, “Jae… don’t.” You breathed, “I’ll talk to you later.” You quipped before hanging up the phone, “Ugh, I probably sounded like such a bitch.” You combed your fingers through your hair, tugging at the roots slightly before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. Your fingers slowly uncurled themselves and you robotically placed them at your sides, “No, none of that.”

It was evident that was a coping mechanism, a way to express your pain and insecurity. He imagined it was more than likely much worse before. This made his fist clench. Must he protect from everything, including yourself? 

He scoffed at himself. He didn’t even know where you were in the world. He was lucky that he even understood your native tongue. He was also lucky that you spoke Korean on occasions. This made the odds of you living even remotely near him better, but not definite.

Why was he even doing this? Why was he watching you and fantasizing about you when you had no idea who he was and he had no idea where you were? Suddenly, he felt terribly ridiculous. He had spent every night this past week just watching you without your consent, dreaming about you, and imagining this entire life with you.

With a heavy heart, he waited for you to be out of frame before exiting your stream. He effectively wiped it off the website, he figured it was the least he could do to atone for the hours he spent watching it.

Jin rubbed his hands over his hands in frustration. This sexual and romantic solitude seemed to be really getting to his head. Tomorrow was a new day and he had to seriously consider finding someone as perfect as you and fast. 

Or at least someone who could pretend was as perfect as you for a night.

The next morning went on as usual. He got up, went to work, and finally, attended school. His classes went on and eventually, he was in the courtyard with the same people as always. 

“Dove, would you hand me the water bottle?” Taehyung mused to his girlfriend as he laid his form between her legs as she sat on the table. She handed him the water bottle and he kissed her hand as he retrieved it from her.

Jin rolled his eyes as he sat next to her, “And just when I thought I couldn’t feel any lonelier.” He groaned out.

“It’ll come when you least expect it.” She turned to him with a short giggle, “Tae just swept me off my feet just like that.” She snapped to indicate how sudden.

“It’s all about timing, my friend,” Taehyung spoke blissfully as his girlfriend combed through his hair.

“Yeah, look at my little Odette and I.” Jimin nuzzled into the neck of his girlfriend.

“Not helping the whole loneliness feeling for Jin, babe.” She grunted as she pushed his head away, “But he is right, he found the right time to fuck my brains out and now it’s a forever thing.” Her crude language made Jimin smirk a bit.

“Same boat, Jin.” Yoongi sighed, “We’ll get there.” He spoke before putting his headphones back in.

Jin nodded, used to hearing and seeing the same things. He looked out around the campus before heaving himself off the table, “I’m gonna get a soda, anyone want anything from the vending machine?“ When everyone shook their heads, he headed out onto the path to the Arts building.

It was outside the building that he saw a large gathering of some freshman intro class. He shrugged it off until he heard an eerily familiar voice.

“Okay, so that puts the whole hand through the coke can effect to rest.” Your voice was playful and melodic, “Now, for my final act, pun intended.” Jin whipped his head around as you beamed among the genuinely entertained class, “The infamous stage kiss!” You proclaimed as a rustle came about the crowd, “Yes, mumble, mumble, groan, groan. I know, but it’s a basic skill and as an intro class, you need to know them.” 

Jin didn’t know if he was dreaming or not. Even if he was, he’d like for it to stay that way if it meant you were here. You were more than he imagined. You were all he could ever imagine for this past week. You were right there.

“Now, I need a volunteer.” A myriad of male and female hands went up much too enthusiastically for Jin’s taste. You chuckled, “Flattering, but I need someone above my age.” Hands went down, but not enough, “I will check ID, kids.” All the hands went down, but some unknown force made Jin’s hand go up, “I see one hand back there, so come on up!” You chirped and Jin made his way to the makeshift stage.

He found himself surprised for one of very few times in his life. What the fuck was going on? How were you here and in front of him? Was this even real?

To say your heart fell out of your mouth would be a gross understatement. Kim Seokjin was sauntering up to you, “Well, I don’t think you’re in this class.” You mused softly as he made his way to you.

He gave you a small wink and you would’ve squealed if you didn’t have self-respect, “Y/n, right?” He more so stated as he shook your hand.

You nodded with an evident gulp, “Kim Seokjin, our very own campus prince!” You clapped along with the rest of a suddenly envious class, “Okay so there are a couple ways to do a stage kiss. This can be done a couple different ways.” You explained and turned to Jin, “What is most important, though, is that your partner is comfortable with whatever you decide on, which goes for every aspect of life, my dears.” You winked at the crowd, “Now, are you okay with getting close to my face and me touching your face?” Jin smiled before nodding.

You were clearly in your element and it was mesmerizing. You had a passion for theatre and entertaining a crowd. This would be fine with Jin so long as the world knew it was his hand you’d be taking the moment you stepped off stage. You would give anything to be happy, this included your family’s support.

“Okay, so the typical way is the old fashioned way of covering your partner’s face with yours or vice versa.” You talked animatedly with your hands as your grasped Jin’s wrist and led him to the makeshift wall you had, “You have the regular kabedon way.” You moved to put his hand beside your hand, but Jin took initiative, making you jump, “A-And then the partner, or you, would close in at an angle and…BAM!” You giggled as Jin was brought to a halt leaning in, “A kiss.” You stared at Jin’s face for a while before breaking the spell with a sheepish smile, “Okay, so time is running thin, so, I’ll show you the thumb kiss.” You were so cheerful as you turned to Jin, “Now what you do is slide your hand behind their hair all romantic-like.” You went to bring your hand up to Jin’s face, but he took initiative making you jump as his hand cradled your face ever so softly, “And-uh- place your thumb on their mouth, and tilt ever so slightly, and…” You tilted your head up and Jin took this as the signal to bring his lips to yours softly, internally cursing his own thumb.

“BAM!” Jin chuckled, “A kiss.”

You giggled as you both broke away and Jin basked in the sound, “Alrighty, that’s our time! Thank you for being so responsive!” You beamed as the class dispersed with returning smiles. You turned to Jin, “And thank you, kind sir.” 

“I can be quite the thespian if you want me to.” He was flirting, he was just hoping you knew he was.

“Quit trying to make me blush.” You chided with a playful smile, “It’s a felony to make me flustered, it’s a whole mess.”

Jin felt like this was an out of body experience. He wanted to pinch himself just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming about you as he had this entire week. Everything felt so natural with you. There was no facade or fake laughter. There was just you and him.

“As penance for my crime, I’ll help you clean up.” He smiled as you and you gave him a toothy grin.

He helped you pack up your random props and insisted on giving you a ride home, “There’s no way I’m gonna let you ride the bus with all of this.” Jin was adamant.

“I really don’t live far, it’s why I don’t take my car most of the time.” You tried to reason.

“Which is why it’s no problem for me to drive you.” Jin shot back and you huffed, giving a pout he knew all too well.

“Promise you won’t turn out to be some murderer?” You spoke through puffed out lips that he wished to place his own on.

He smiled warmly at you, “Promise, although my jokes are killer.” 

You burst into a fit of melodious giggles as you shook your head, “Yeah, no way you’re a murderer, dork.”

The walk to his car was filled with stupid jokes and goofy laughing as if you had known each other for years. You basked in the warmth he provided you in such a short amount of time, and yet it far exceeded what your family supplied you. Maybe you didn’t have to get accustomed to loneliness if Jin was around. He made you feel valued, and you had heard he was kind, but you never knew just how kind. Was he like this with everyone? Or could he possibly like someone like you? Even just as a friend. At this rate, anything worked.

With this in mind, you turned to him, “So, are you gonna tell me how you knew who I was?” 

“Well, that’s a loaded question.” Jin sighed out, debating on telling you some semblance of the truth, “Have you heard of the ArtCast scandal?”

“Oh, yeah, the whole thing with- Oh no.” You stopped walking, “Are you telling me that-”

“It’s a long story.” Jin smiled sheepishly at you, “I didn’t see anything intrusive or anything but-”

There was a lot to unpack in that exchange. On one hand, Jin had seen you in your most private area of existence, but you were never quite good at being angry about things. At the end of the day, you felt like it was your fault you were on there and you doubted Jin made a habit of dark web encounters. You reminded yourself he was a computer science major… or was it computer security? You’d really hate to make things awkward by being angry. Even so, were you angry? Were you this starved for a companion?

He stopped when you began laughing, “Man, I need to read User Agreements, that’s embarrassing.” You shrugged and Jin was taken aback by your calmness, “You must think I’m such a dweeb.”

“You’re not… creeped out?” Jin sped up to catch up to you.

You just offered a shrug, “All I do is cry and watch videos, so it’s not a big deal.” You chortled, “No use in dwelling on it, I got enough to dwell on.”

Jin felt a huge weight lift off of his chest as you went along your merry way with him. On one hand, you had no self-preservation skills, but you also had no hatred in your heart for anyone. This was enough to keep him tethered to you, and no longer the idea of you. You were nothing like him with your rose-colored glasses that you viewed the world with. You were much too delicate of a flower to be alone, vulnerable.

“You are one of a kind, y/n.” Jin mused and you felt your face heat.

“As are you, Seokjin.” Jin caught the extra skip in your step, “I’d like to see more of you.”

“And I, you.” Jin winked at you.

—-

When Jin pulled into your apartment complex he shuddered at the architecture, or lack thereof, “Terrible isn’t it?” You hummed.

“It's… not that bad…” Jin gave you an uneasy smile and you rolled your eyes, “Close to campus…”

“Well excuse me, sugar daddy, not all of us can afford a high rise.” You stuck your tongue out at him, but he was too focused on how inviting your mouth looked to him.

“Stick your tongue out like that,” He leaned closer to you in a half-joking manner, “And I’ll bite it.” He threatened, which only furthered your grin and made your nerves come alive.

“Kinky.” You leaned closer to him and suddenly the atmosphere in the car became much heavier with your tone, and Jin went to grasp your chin, the heat that pooled in between your legs when he did so made you gasp softly, “I dig it.” You breathed and that was all it took for Jin’s resolve to break.

Before he could make the move, you smashed your lips onto his. He responded immediately, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you closer. The kiss was everything either of you could have wanted despite how unbelievably sloppy it was. Your tongues soon intertwined and Jin went to your waist to pull you from the passenger seat to his lap. Somehow, you managed to do so despite the difficulty that came with keeping your lips connected while you did so.

“Your lips are so fucking soft.” You hummed against his mouth before going to his neck, “Your skin too.” You smiled against it.

He groaned when you began to shyly suck on top of his jugular, “Fuck, good girl.” He moaned out before you ground your hips against his at the praise. He then grasped the back of your hair, accidentally pulling a little harder than intended to bring your face back to his. He was ready to apologize until you moaned at the sensation, throwing your head back.

“Shit.” You moaned when he placed his plush lips on your neck, sucking hard, “You’re gonna leave a mark-ah!” You bit your lip when he sucked at your sensitive spot.

“Good.” He grunted and you only ground against him harder, “Fuck, you’re really testing me.”

“I live right there.” You panted as he pressed you against him, his hands grabbing at your waist.

“But your stuff.” He noted as he sucked on your neck.

“I’ll get it tomorrow morning?” You spoke softly, more shy, trying to ask him to stay the night without asking, “It’s been ages since I’ve had good dick.” You groaned.

“And why’s that, sweetheart?” Jin was domineering and it made your thighs clench.

“Nobody’s been worth my time.” You smirked as he gripped your hip, much to your delight and you giggled at this, “Okay, maybe that’s a lie and I just want you to think I’m desirable.”

Jin smiled at this as he unlocked his car, “I already desire you, baby.” You shuddered at this. You move to get out of the car, but Jin took the initiative to move the both of you. You should’ve been more embarrassed than you were about your legs being wrapped around a man you had only met properly that day as he carried you into your apartment while whispering the R-Rated version of sweet nothings in your ear.

You handed him the key, and the moment the door shut you were up against the wall in an instant. You weren’t shy about the continuous moans and groans he ripped for your throat with the way his hand cupped your sex and began ministrations. 

Jin reveled in the sound you made, only bolstering the unyielding need he felt for you. He had pictured this moment for so long and here you were, legs wrapped around him as he stumbled from wall to wall to get to your bedroom with one hand inside your panties.

You didn’t even think to ask how he knew where your bedroom was when you passed the threshold because if the way his fingers slipped inside proved to demand your attention more. He laid you down on the bed and you scrambled to your knees to unbuckle his belt as he stood over you. He let out a low groan when your tongue made a stripe along the base. You had to admit that his dick was quite beautiful and thankfully clean. Granted, you’ve seen some nice dick, but he was so well kept and soft and everything you were happy to put your mouth on.

His hand grabbed ahold of your hair and you moaned with your mouth full when he took control of you by tugging your hair. You had always liked it rough, and it was like he was reading your mind. He was fucking your face in no time and your thighs clenched in an attempt to alleviate the ache that only he could satisfy. He eventually pulled you off him and he left your mouth with a satisfying pop. 

He stared down at you, hair messy, drool trailing down your chin, and eyes captivating with a carnal want. The sight could absolutely make him cum if he concentrated hard enough. He gave you a teasing glance as his slender fingers took their time with his shirt and you stripped yourself of the dress you wore in an instant. By the time Jin was in view again, he dove at you, lips attaching to yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as you clutched him closer to your form and you took a moment to appreciate how fit he was. His plush lips trailed down your body while his soft hands reached behind you to remove your bra.

Jin pulled away to sit up and stare at you for a moment. You were under him, chest heaving, mouth open in want, and he looked at your body, breasts beyond what he imagined and he moaned when his hands ran over your body. His hands nearly ripped your underwear down your legs and he studied your pussy like a scholar. His fingers spread you and he groaned at how wet you were. His mouth engulfed you, tongue having ached to taste you for too long and the way you squirmed only spurred him further. He ate you up like a man starved. When his tongue went inside you, you swore you saw God. 

"Jin!” You gasped, body unable to squirm in his firm grip. If you hadn’t been feeling so good, you would swear he was eating you out more for his sake than yours. You couldn’t even form words, only his name would come out of your mouth, and this was only aided when one of his hands went up to squeeze your nipple. His other hand went to stretch you with three fingers as air flooded your lungs in a dizzy of lust, “Fuck me!” You finally gasped out and that was all the prodding he needed.

Next time he would have to make you beg, take his time, drive you mad, but right now, he needed to feel you around him. 

Jin plunged into you and you were immediately fucked out. The pain was delicious and you wanted more. He began to thrust slowly at first until your hips began to spasm, “Harder,” You moaned, “Please fuck me hard.” You begged and something in Jin just snapped.

“Who?” He slammed into you as you groaned in delight, “Who do you want to fuck you hard, hm?”

You took his hand and placed it around your neck, “You, Sir, please.” You batted your eyelashes at him and that was it, “I want you to fuck your cum into me.” He was a weak man for you. This much was solidified when he expertly slammed into you as he squeezed your neck intermittently. Strangled moans came from you until the hand holding his wrist squeezed and Jin let go of your neck to hear you scream for him as you came.

You didn’t disappoint as your back arched and eyes rolled back. The erotic image paired with the way you clenched around him only pushed him over the edge as he came, hips stuttering as you both rode out your respective highs. 

You hardly remember him cleaning you up, what mattered most to you was the way he held you through the night. 

You woke up to an empty bed and sighed out, figuring he was gone. Maybe this is your punishment for never making the guy wait like your mother said to. You huffed as your feet made contact with the floor and you flinched in pain, understandably sore.

You paused when you heard a sizzling. Jin was cooking. He was awfully comfortable in a home he had rarely seen and never been in, right? You stopped yourself for a moment.

You really fucked your hot stalker, didn’t you?

You audibly laughed. Your life was a fucking joke. Were you this desperate for attention to overlook the fact that this man had looked through the lens of your laptop long enough and hard enough to know the layout of your apartment. 

You sure were.

You shook your head in exasperation as you headed out of the room where you encountered Jin in your kitchen, cooking eggs and he gave you a small smile. You returned if despite the conclusion you came to.

You certainly did fuck your insanely hot stalker.

“You know Jin, I don’t think you were completely honest with me earlier.” You mused, not bothering to look at him for a response, “It seems you encountering my little stream wasn’t as casual as you say.”

Jin froze for a moment. You weren’t an idiot. He knew it wouldn’t take you long to organize your thoughts and see the truth. Not that he planned to omit the full truth for long. He had just been hoping you were in love with him before it came out. He could only hope the orgasms brought you at least a quarter of the way there “Why do you think that, baby?” He spoke slowly as he used the plastic spatula to move the yolk.

“Call it a hunch, but I don’t think anyone is that passionate fucking someone they just met.” You spoke listlessly, “I don’t mean to sound vain, but are you obsessed with me?" 

Jin let out a short laugh, "The short answer is yes, but before you kick me out,” He turned the stove off as he placed the cooked eggs on a plate before turning to you, fingertips drumming on the counter, “Why don’t we eat a bit while I make you a proposition?”

The smart answer would be no. The smart choice would be to kick him out, an idea you hadn’t considered until he said it. However, you were known for your charisma much more than your intelligence. With that, you sat down at your table and Jin smiled in relief ever so slightly. It almost made you wonder if he knew you weren’t going to kick him out at all.

“Who am I to say no to free food?” You hummed as Jin opened your silverware drawer without even needing to ask you, almost as if he had obsessively watched you go about your daily life for a week.

He handed you the fork as he sat next to you. You took a bite of the perfectly scrambled eggs because of course, they were perfect. 

He watched you eat with an emotion you hadn’t seen before. He could tell you were confused, and he wanted so badly to tell you it was adoration. The swine you were surrounded by had been to idiotic to appreciate what they had. Even just watching you was a gift nobody deserved.

“So this proposition?” You mumbled as you chewed lightly.

Jin snapped out of his trance, “Ah, yes.” He straightened his posture and rolled his shoulders like a true businessman as you watched his mouth settle into a confident smirk, one slightly different than the one he held whilst holding your legs open mere hours ago. The memory almost made you want to forego the offer and proceed with another round instead. Never in your life had anyone made you feel so wanted, “I would like for you to be my… companion.” He snapped you from your thoughts and considered the word for a moment before speaking again, “I find the word girlfriend to be too casual for what I would like our arrangement to be.”

You shifted a bit in your seat, unsure what the word companion even meant to him, “And what arrangement would that be?” You took another bite, trying to avoid his intimidating aura.

“One of a romantic variety.” You nearly choked on the food, “I suppose the end goal is for you to be my wife.” This time you did choke on the food. Your windpipe had welcomed the egg but Jin was quick to pat you on the back as you coughed, “I was just about to say I’d like to grow old with you, and here you are, almost killing yourself.” He chided as he pushed a cup of water your way and he waited for you to put the cup down before proceeding, “Essentially, I love you, and I’d like for you to commit to being with me and eventually loving me back as we go through life together.”

Your eyes were wide as you looked past Jin, trying to avoid eye contact. Had anyone ever really loved you? Your parents, maybe. However, she was required to by society. Jin had no obligation to feel anything for you and yet here he was, making you food and offering you the love and attention you craved.

You felt your face heat at his nonchalant confession of love and yet your heart was racing at his hand landed on top of yours. Your entire body was buzzing and you couldn’t tell if it was from fear or anticipation, “Well, w-what’s in it for me?” The question was shaky at best. You were willfully confused and unsure why you had been so ready to say yes without even hearing the benefits. 

Jin was evidently amused by your attempt to put on a disinterested front. You had never been a good liar. He loved that about you and thrived on your honesty, “For one, you’ll have a stable and consistent person in your life.” That one stung a bit which is why he wanted to get that out of the way first. He knew how lonely and isolated you were, “You’ll always have my support emotionally, physically, and financially.” You nodded, asking him to go on, “You’ll never have to worry about anything really, I find myself with an aching need to bend to your every whim.” You smiled sheepishly at this, “I can offer you a life of happiness, loyalty, security, and endless love.”

You didn’t realize how hard you had clutched his hand until you breathed out a released Jin from your clutches. He stroked the top of your hand in response, “And what’s required of me?”

Jin squeezed your hand for a moment, “Your love and affection.” He mused, “I want you to commit to being my lover- ah, that’s the word I had been looking for.” He lightly tapped his head, “You make me woefully absentminded.” He chided and you felt your heart flutter, “All you ever have to do is look at only me as far as potential mates go. I can certainly promise to keep you interested.” A smirk played on the edge of his lips as his other hand stroked your knee, “You’re intoxicating and I could very well prove to be your drug of choice as well.” He spoke lowly and you almost shivered, “Your rules, for lack of a better word, would be to love me, and only me, and ideally, work at home for the most part.” This caught your attention, “Your passion seems to lie with screenwriting and editing with a dash of set design, yes?” He hardly waited for you to confirm, “So, you can do most of your work at home as is, on any other endeavors, I’d like to accompany you.” You nodded again, agreeing before your mind was fully made up, “I don’t like the idea of the outside world having free access to you.”

“Go figure, considering the outside world had paid access to me.” You chuckled before taking a breath after seeing Jin’s smile falter, “Anywho, I would be quite a fool to deny you.” You sighed out, “You paint a nice picture, especially to someone as isolated and affection-starved as myself. You seem to have made yourself the skeleton key to all the locked doors I’ve been faced with in my lifetime.” Jin smiled proudly at this, “Yeah, it’s creepy you got off to watching me and are literally obsessed, but if you look like this, have that much money, and can make me cum like that during our first time, who am I to say no to a life of comfort and happiness?" 

"Do you think you could love me?” Jin asked, confidence mostly gone and his eyes left with pure hope. For the first time, he didn’t know your answer.

You smiled at him, no doubt in your answer as you brought your hand to cup his cheek softly, “I certainly could.” You were softer this time, “But riddle me this…" 

"Anything.” His hand brushed over your own as your thumb stroked his cheek.

“Why do you love me?” He placed a kiss on the back of your hand after holding it.

He sighed dreamily, “I’m surrounded by people with the whole world in the palm of their hand.” He rubbed his face against your hand, “Some love it, some hate it, but they’re all the same.” You saw him grimace at the very thought of these people, “They lie and constantly pretend to be something they’re not.” He looked up to meet your eyes, “But you, are so unapologetic about who you are and what you love.” He cupped your face and you could feel yourself heat at his touch, “You’re honest and not afraid to feel despite everyone trying to get you to conform to their standards.” He smiled at you and you knew it was over, “I genuinely just want you in my life, and I want to be someone special to you as you are to me.”

You were shaken from the trance when you felt a tear slide down your cheek. Never in your life had anyone been so kind and supportive of you. He didn’t joke about how unlikely your career path was or give you a backhanded compliment. He was just a guy who wanted to be in your life and support you- and if overlooking his obsessive stint of his was what you had to do, then fuck it. He could’ve easily lied to you and you would’ve fallen for him none the wiser. What does you knowing about his obsession really change? It doesn’t make him love you any less and it doesn’t make you any less infatuated. You would be his and he would be yours because you both wanted it to be as such.

Jin’s hand brushed the tear off your cheek, “No need to worry, petal.” His voice was gentle, “Not anymore, not while I’m around.”

Your eyes glinted with hope and just a hint of trust when Jin met them again. You leaned in to kiss him softly, an affirming kiss. It was a kiss that said, “You better not be lying to me Kim Seokjin, I’ll go crazy.” You breathed the words against his mouth and he gave you a playful smile.

He gave you a kiss in return, reassuring the faith you decided to put in him. He would never disappoint you. His hand went to the back of your neck as he tilted your head upwards to pull you in deeper, “I’m so in love you.” He breathed on your mouth in return and you shivered, the feeling foreign to you.

“Well,” You huffed, catching your breath, “Do I get to live in your fancy penthouse now?” You gave me a carefree smile, and it sunk in that he was no longer forced to watch you through a screen. He could watch you all day. He had plans to do as much. He found he could prove his love best by merely looking at you. 

You really knew how to read him like a book. He noted how terribly naive you were. In a matter of 24 hours, you agreed to move in with a man who had spied on you like an animal starved. However, Jin only determined this as an exhibition of how meant to be the both of you were. A great playwright must have written your love story for the ages. 

The world looked much more beautiful with your hands on him. 

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