#ultimately I think the phrasing of ‘the kid he remembers never even existed’ is too strong if it wasn’t for the specific context

[daydreamerdrew]

Winter Soldier (2012) #15

[kinard-buckley]

saw a post that got me thinking. the gist of it was dean was OOC from s13 onward, specifically because he pointed his gun at kids (kaia and jack) and this is wrong because dean would never “turn into his father.” normally i would agree that dean wouldn’t pull a gun on a kid if he was in the right mental space but the whole point is that he isn’t in the right mental space when either of these moments occur. 

in fact, we’ve already seen dean pull a gun on a kid and actually murder him in cold blood. castiel points out “the dean i know never would have shot that kid.” in that moment, cas is the audience proxy, pointing out to dean (and reminding us) what is really going on. a dean winchester, free of the mark’s influence, never would have killed cy styne, even if he did think cy would turn out like his family.

so, anyway, at the start of s13 cas is dead and he’s lost mary and doesn’t even know if she’s alive. he’s most certainly still traumatized, even though cas is back when the episode “the bad place” occurs. kaia is someone who can possibly help them rescue mary, who dean hasn’t even allowed himself to hope is alive because that hope is too painful for him. because everyone dean loves leaves him even if they do come back. what dean does is obviously wrong and we’re supposed to feel that wrongness. maybe it would have been addressed more if wayward had gotten picked up, who knows. they did sort of allude to it when kaia was rescued, i think, but i don’t exactly remember. 

now, on to the jack incident(s). dean pulling a gun on jack and being willing to sacrifice him are yet more examples of “the dean i know wouldn’t do this.” hell, dean’s probably thinking the same thing himself. the scene in “moriah” is clearly meant to parallel the binding of isaac, and like abraham dean "fails” the test and is unable to kill his son. unlike abraham, though, dean struggles with the decision and ultimately chooses not to kill jack (while in the biblical story, an angel is sent down to intervene and stop abraham from killing isaac; also interesting to note that abraham and isaac don’t speak to each other again after this). also, unlike the biblical story, a vengeful chuck kills him anyway. in “unity,” he’s willing to give everything/everyone up (including his OWN BROTHER, who he raised and who he’s died for countless times) to get off chuck’s carnival ride. 

dean’s entire perception of his own existence (and the world around him and the people in it) was completely shattered by chuck and he’s been drowning in it the whole season. his actions in “unity” are borne of his desperation, and they’re the rising action before the climax that comes in “despair,” when he has all these preconceptions ripped away from him by cas’s love confession. 

dean is not the angry destructive creature either of his fathers molded him into. he was never just john’s blunt instrument, nor was he the angry destructive cold-blooded killer chuck wanted him to be. he was so full of love for the world that just by being himself, he taught a celestial being older than time itself what love was. 

he didn’t turn into john, not in the way fandom is using the phrase. if you mean he turned into john in the sense that deeply traumatic experiences caused him to lash out and react in a way he wouldn’t normally act if he was of the right mind, then sure. there’s an argument for that. 

[thewritewolf]

Well-Worn Note

Summary: When Adrien hears about a drive to give back to the heroes of Paris, he writes a heartfelt note telling Ladybug how much she is appreciated.

Years later, he finds that same note again in an unlikely place.

This fic has two reasons for existing! The first is that it celebrates the one year anniversary of my favorite server on Discord being created, and I have truly grown to love and appreciate it. Not to mention all the friends I've made through it!

The second reason - and what provided the specific inspiration for this story - comes from this post by @lnc2​. 

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Adrien’s fingers wandered aimlessly among the keys of his piano. Sometimes he did it to think, to let his mind drift in a trance, but most of the time he just needed a reprieve from his thoughts altogether. To let himself be completely immersed in the music as it unfolded in front of him, changing from moment to moment.

The music was a great escape. It was hard to hold onto frustration and anger when he was at the piano. Adrien suddenly froze and groaned. At least, it was a great escape as long as his mind didn’t circle back to what he was trying to get away from in the first place. Thoroughly back in the present, he walked over to his computer to look for another distraction.

Naturally, his first stop was the Ladyblog. He was only two articles down when he saw her announcement for a special event for Heroes Day. There was going to be a drop off box where the grateful citizens of Paris can send gifts and notes to their favorite heroes. Alya had apparently already gotten Ladybug’s permission and Adrien wondered when that had happened.

“Yeah it was like two or three akumas ago.” Adrien started before noticing Plagg, who continued talking with a smirk and a satisfied swish of his tail. “You were running out of time, but she had lots of it so she hung around to answer questions by the adoring public.” Plagg took a bite out of his cheese. “Guess that was when.”

“Huh…” Adrien said, the gears in his head already turning.

“What’s up? Already looking forward to all that cheese you’ll be getting?”

Adrien scrunched up his forehead. “Why would I be getting cheese?”

“Well what else are they going to send you? Cheese is obviously the best call.” Plagg tossed his wedge into the air and caught it with his mouth. The kwami floated off the desk.

“There’s loads better stuff than that! Like-” Adrien’s eyes widened. “Wait. This is a great opportunity!”

“What are you on about, kid?”

Adrien turned around in his seat to look at Plagg. “I could send Ladybug a present through the drop off!”

“...Kid you know her. You could just give her something next time you’re on patrol or something. Heck, you’ve done that before!”

“Yeah, but this is a chance to give her stuff she’d never accept from Chat Noir,” Adrien said, turning back to his desk. He pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen and started writing.

The gifts he could figure out later - maybe a flower or some jewelry or clothes - but the critical thing was getting his emotions onto paper. Several crumbled up failures later and he was carefully finishing his masterpiece. If that didn’t make her feel loved, nothing would.

“Well, don’t forget to sign it I guess,” Plagg reminded, sounding bored.

Adrien shook his head as he folded up the paper. “It’ll stay anonymous.”

“Huh? What’s the point then? I thought you were trying to get her to fall for you or whatever?”

“No. I just… I want her to know she’s appreciated and, well…” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “If I don’t sign it, it’ll be like if all of Paris sent her the letter, you know?”

“Not really, but whatever floats your boat, kid.”

By that time the following day, Adrien had picked out a few presents - a rose with a ribbon, a charm bracelet, and a few other things besides. Storing them and the note in a box, he wrapped it and dropped it off with Alya as soon as he could.

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

Years passed and before he knew it, Adrien and all his friends were graduating from school. It was a strange new world they were heading into - Nino had gotten a great opportunity to follow his dreams of being a DJ in Nice. Likewise, Alya had landed an internship as a journalist there. By the end of the summer, both of them would be moving out of Paris.

But not everything was changing. There were still akumas, which meant that Adrien needed to stay close at hand to keep Paris safe. At least he’d be in good company - Marinette had been accepted to a Parisian university where she could pursue her ambitions of becoming a great designer. Not that she wasn’t already, Adrien thought with a smile.

Their last summer together was bittersweet. Friends had come and gone over the years, but those four had stayed the best of friends for that entire time. Now it seemed to be coming to an end, even as they all tried to find their way in the world. Who knew when the whole gang would come together again?

Maybe it was helping Marinette move today that had gotten him thinking about it so much. Which was itself a nostalgic trip as they helped pack away mementos of their times together. How often had Adrien come over after school to play Ultimate Mecha Strike with Marinette? The movie nights all four of them had spent there?

Things got quieter when Alya and Marinette left to buy more boxes - even Marinette had underestimated just how much stuff she had to pack. Nino and Adrien joked around like usual, but there was a somberness under it all that they just couldn’t shake no matter how hard they tried to keep things lighthearted.

Adrien almost welcomed it when Nino fumbled one of the boxes and took their minds off of it. At least he would have if the box hadn’t torn open and disgorged its contents onto the floor.

“Dang, dude,” Nino said as he stared at the mess he’d made. “M’s gonna kill me for sure if this stuff got busted.”

“Don’t sweat it, man.” Adrien put a comforting hand on Nino’s shoulder. “See if you can scrap up another box somewhere. I’ll pick all this stuff up and get it ready.”

Nino tipped his cap at him. “Thanks bro. You’re a real everyday Chat Noir!”

Adrien rolled his eyes at the phrase. After he’d thrown that party for Marinette and made his little speech, everyone had started using it.

“No problem. Take your time, though,” Adrien added as he sat down on the floor. “Looks like I’m going to be here a while.”

“Right on.”

Something didn’t seem quite right when he got to work sorting through the stuff. It must’ve been one of the boxes that Marinette had already packed by the time they got there, since he didn’t recognize any of it at all.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. All of them stirred up memories - old sketchbooks that were filled and forgotten. Scraps of fabric from pieces that Adrien remembered her finishing years ago. An old black umbrella.

“She still has this?” Adrien murmured to himself in awe. He laid it back down reverently - if it weren’t for that umbrella, the two of them might not have been friends, after all.

That was when he saw it. At first, he thought it was just another notebook, but there was something poking out of the bottom of it that caught his eye. Curious, he reached for the book.

The final date was from three years ago, but he could tell from the wear on the spine that it had been opened and closed many, many times. He flipped open the book and the faint scent of a rose reached his nose. The book naturally opened up to a page that had a pressed rose tied with a ribbon on it. That must have been what was poking out of the bottom. Taking the flower, he spun it between his fingers and watched the ribbon dance around it. There was something oddly familiar about it, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

Something fell out of the book and drew his attention away from the preserved rose. It was a folded piece of paper. As he picked it up, he could feel from the softness of the paper that it had been unfolded and refolded many, many times.

Following in Marinette’s footsteps, he unfolded it once more.

At first, he could only cringe at it. Whoever had wrote it clearly had a crush on Marinette, but some sense of curiosity had gotten the better of him and he needed to keep reading. As he continued, there was a nagging suspicion at the back of his mind that he’d seen this letter somewhere before. But that couldn’t be right, could it? Unless he-

His eyes widened. Unless he was the one who wrote it! But that made even less sense - he couldn’t remember ever writing Marinette a note where he thanked her for ‘saving the day more times than he cared to count’ nor where he called her ‘an inspiration to all of them’. Granted, he’d probably said stuff like that to her over the years but-

Then it hit him like a clap of thunder. The rose and its ribbon only confirmed it for him. As clear as day, he could remember writing this very letter years ago, but it wasn’t for Marinette - it was for Ladybug!

It all made sense. No one could figure out why Marinette had declined going to that school in London she’d really liked. Most of them had assumed it was just because she would miss Paris too much. But she could hardly fight akumas while she was in London, could she?

The door opens and Adrien looks up to see Marinette standing there like a figure from a dream.

She glances down to see the letter in one hand and the rose in the other. A blush spreads across her face, but he barely notices as he stands up. She is stammering something, but he can’t hear it over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

Her bright blue eyes look up at him as he finally crosses the distance between them. He drops the note, forgotten immediately once again so he can cup her cheek with one hand. The rest of the world falls away as well as he whispers to her, quiet and sure:

“...My lady?”

[delusion-of-negation]

top 10 (ish) ridiculous or annoying FAQs:

(click at your own discretion)

1) "kids today rely on others to do everything"

ah yes, damn those participation trophies! if it wasn't for them my hands wouldn't be fucked, and I wouldn't need people to write for me. but seriously, stop reading boomer comics, and go outside to meet some actual young people.

2) "sus that a non-american says mom"

yeah, because it's clearly the superior version, and I'm not too patriotic to concede a defeat.

3) "sweaty, the victims of abuse by catholics are real people, stop appropriating their pain just because you want to hate catholics; plus teachers abuse people just as often anyway"

so firstly, I don't hate anybody. and secondly, regarding the fact that victims really do exist, [insert "of course I know him, he's me" meme here]; although I don't often talk much about the abuse I went through or what my religious beliefs are. but, more importantly, statements like "survivors are people" can be phrased like "some people are survivors", and when you're unable to act according to the latter (like when you don't even consider that somebody might be one) then you display a failure to recognise the former - you're projecting; a survivor can't be appropriating their own pain, but you can be appropriating it to silence one. and thirdly, teachers do abuse - the problem isn't and has never been purely religion, rather that abuse is often done by somebody in a position of trust, power, and familiarity; and that the lack of a global minimum enables totally legal abuse on top of the illegal stuff. people with access and respect have more opportunity to abuse than those without, and that goes for teachers too. but, once again, you can be appropriating the pain of survivors to deflect and silence people. please remember this before you say that shit.

4) "get help/therapy"

way ahead of you - years ahead of you. but it's not magic - people who say this often act as if you'll start behaving differently overnight. not only are some things simply beyond the ability of talking therapy to completely rectify, it also takes time and has to be selective. you've got to pick your priorities, and that's definitely not whatever ship or joke you're mad at me about today. therapy is a slow, arduous process that can't guarantee results - it isn't "anti-recovery" to recognise that, it's honesty. while I've been in therapy for a long time, it is not necessarily going to change whatever you don't like about me - whether that's because it can't, because my focus now is on more important or urgent things, or because I don't want to change that.

5a) "tell your family you ship incest, see how that goes; normal people find it disgusting"

actually, some know, and they're fine with it. in fact, one prefers sibling pairings in fiction to all other dynamics because, to paraphrase, "it's a deeper level of messed up co-dependence". so unfortunately for you, my remaining family (by which I mean those not dead or cut out of my life after abuse and so forth) actually are able to distinguish between fiction and reality. plus, my reasoning for caring if they find it gross or not pertains only to recommending books and such - their opinions do not dictate my tastes.

5b) "don't sexualise/appropriate incestuous abuse" and "I bet you enjoyed being raped" and other attempts to upset me over 5a

firstly, as I've already said here, survivors can't be appropriating ourselves. in addition, you're not owed people's history or trauma - it's not okay to require people's personal information, or else you'll send anon hate and accusations of appropriation. secondly, I'm not sexualising our abuse (not just because I write horror, and so a lot of my writing is intended to be creepy, not sexy); these stories aren't about us, they're not us at all. entire dynamics/people (fictional or otherwise) aren't all going to be applicable to us or identical to us, just because they have something in common with us; they're not us and they're not accountable to us. thirdly, the fact that people send this stuff (attempting to trigger people's trauma over ships) is so much more worrying to me than somebody making our communal imaginary friends kiss. you're trying to hurt people. and finally, to the "I bet you enjoyed it" crowd (if you're at all serious): do you think you'd enjoy being in a real zombie apocalypse, alone, afraid, and really at risk of being eaten alive? a fictional scenario does not feel remotely the same as a real one. this isn't rocket science - things that look like you aren't you; fiction isn't reality; don't send anon hate. (edit: comparable "just leave me alone, I'm not hurting anyone" sentiments for yandere stuff, and anything else you decide I'm naughty for.)

6) "you'll be sent off to do manual labour once your communist revolution happens"

while I don't know why people think that I'm a communist, a dictatorial regime probably isn't going to want me to do manual labour. they're more likely to just shoot me; I'm useless and a liability. call me crazy, but something tells me that "ah yes, we shall give ze deranged cripple ze power tools" isn't the communist position.

7a) "they/them can't be singular pronouns"

yes they can, and they're used as such in both shakespeare and the bible. but you don't have to say this - I'm also okay with he/him, so you could've just used those and chilled out. also, do I look like somebody who views the rules of grammar as fully immutable and imperative?

7b) "enbies/aros/pan/etc aren't valid"

do you really think that you're going to change any hearts or minds by putting that in my ask box or under my funny maymays? chill out, it's not worth the effort - you could be planning a party (in minecraft) and having fun instead. it isn't worth my time to rant at everybody who's saying something isn't valid, updating how I'm explaining it as my opinions grow and general discourse around it evolves; I'm just who I am, somebody else is who they are - why bicker in presumptuous ways about if that's enough? it ultimately is valid, in my opinion, but that isn't an invitation to keep demanding that I debate. (edit: old posts of mine probably don't phrase things incredibly, on this or anything... I tried.)

8) "what are your politics?"

my politics are informed first and foremost by the knowledge that I'm not cut out to be some kind of leader - I don't want to be the guy who tells everyone else what to do, I just offer what seem to me like valid criticisms of how we are doing things now, and general pointers on the values and ethics that I would prefer to move towards. things like individual freedom, taking the most pacifist route where possible, trying not to give excessive power to small groups of people (governments or corporations), helping those in need even when they're not palatable, and letting me suck loads of dicks. but please refrain from decreeing me something - there's not enough information in what I said, so you'll just be filling in the blanks with assumptions. (edit: workplace democracy seems cool to me; benefits are good; fair fines and taxes; and the "sperm makes you loopy" saga: 1, 2, 3, and 4.)

9) "you're a narcissist"

no, I don't meet the diagnostic criteria. joking on the internet that you're hot doesn't make a person a narcissist. the fact that I've chosen to keep my actual self-esteem issues to myself is not proof that they don't exist - you're just not entitled to that information about me. but it's also not narcissism to really like how you look. (edit: don't throw labels around carelessly too.)

10a) "kin list?"

the fabric of the universe, a zombie, dionysus, maned wolf/arctic fox hybrid, a comedian, big gay, big rock, ambiguously partial insincerity. (edit: kin list may or may not be incomplete.)

10b) "kin isn't valid/that's just being insane"

haven't we established that I'm deranged, and that sending stuff like this on anon is simply a waste of your precious time? besides, I do not care if it's invalid or insane - it's fun, I'm happy. (edit: see 7b for my opinion on sending me yet another ask with "that's invalid" in it; I'm not in the mood to discuss the nature of validity.)

bonus: "it gets better" and "trigger list?"

as I've said before, things just don't always get better for everyone - sometimes things can't be cured or even treated, sometimes they kill you; in some cases it could get better if not for a blockade or lack of time. the world is messy. it needs to be more normalised to reassure or comfort people without relying on saying that their issue will get better or be cured. it does suck to be this ill, but it also sucks to be made out to be a lazy pessimist, just because I have the audacity to not play along. and as for the trigger list, I don't like providing people with an easily accessed list of ways to hurt my feelings or harm me - upsetting me is supposed to be challenging, and thus rewarding. if you want a cheat sheet then you're out of luck, I'm afraid.

bonus #2: "FAQ stands for frequently asked questions, it doesn't need that s at the end!"

yeah, I know, I just enjoy chaos and disarray.

bonus #3 (edit): "what are your disabilities and how exactly are they incurable and/or deadly?"

again, I don't tell the internet everything about me, especially when it poses a risk, especially not as an easily accessible list for you to refer back to whenever you feel inclined to hurt my feelings. that is understandably a sore subject. (edit: that includes physical health issues btw.)

bonus #4 (edit): "so we shouldn't be critical?"

if it wasn't clear from my answer about politics or my post in general, you can have opinions about things, and you can voice that. it's just not realistic to exist at extremes: to think that you alone should dictate what exists in fiction, or to think that people shouldn't be expressing disdain or criticism of any calibur. say how you feel about things, that's fine, but it's also fine if people find that they don't value your input. plus we're all flawed, we can all be hypocritical from time to time, we all get bitchy, and we all make mistakes, or even knowingly fuck things up. that's important to keep in mind, whether we're talking about the one being criticised or the one doing the criticising - poor choices of words, imperfect tone, or contradictory ideas are inevitably going to happen occasionally.

congrats on reaching the end! if you have, at any point, said one of these to me, you owe a hug to your nearest loved one (once it's safe).

edit: might add more links/bonus points in the future when I think of things, but it's late now. (sorry for links where prior notes in the thread have my old url, that may get a tad confusing; also, not all links are my blog or my op, since it is to illustrate points/vibes, not to self-promo.)

[fantastic-rambles]

Sk8 Character Thoughts

Yeah, so y’all have to deal with me venting my latest obsession, lol. Sorry to everyone who followed me for other stuff, I will get back to it eventually. ^^;

I was gonna write out individual walls of text for everyone to be fair, but I decided that’s too much work and I’d go crazy before I finished (plus I’m feeling guilty for neglecting my fanfiction writing), so I’m just gonna bullet point some of the random things I think about various skaters (opinions and theories).

The order is the approximate order of which I like characters, though it’s not a strict ranking. I like most of the characters in the show to some extent.

Adam (Shindo Ainosuke)

I’ve already said a lot about him, you can check it out here and here. I’ll probably end up saying more about him before the show ends, too. xD

Yes, he is an absolutely awful person, but that’s what makes him amazing.

I will say that he needs a better costume designer. He looks like a clown. It looks like something that he designed when he was, like, five years old.

The mask is great though. <3

Cherry Blossom (Sakurayashiki Kaoru)

I love the super analytical types, but I also feel like Carla is a crutch for him. He’s a great skater, but if he didn’t have Carla, I don’t think he’d be able to compete at the level of the other top skaters. But all the more props to him for finding a way that he could compete at that level.

He totally had a thing for Adam before. But I think that even then, Adam was too fucked up to be able to have a romantic relationship, so nothing came of it. Because if Adam did actually learn what real love was like rather than confusing abuse for love, I don’t think he would have turned out the way he did.

It’s pretty clear that until he gets smacked by Adam, he’s still looking up to Adam and clinging to what they had before. And it bleeds into his non-skating life as well: when he did his calligraphy demonstration, I think that he hoped Adam would see it, which was why he picked that specific phrase and explained it--to let Adam know that it wasn’t too late to make amends (not that Adam would have given a fuck even if he did see it).

I love his character design as a teen, and I’m sad that he’s become more respectable-looking (though still hot af) as an adult. I’m a sucker for guys with long hair in anime/manga.

He is absolutely a weeb. He’s made an AI assistant who he calls Carla, which creeps out Joe (in a cute, lovable way, not in an Adam way), and he incorporates her into almost all aspects of his life. Like, he just happens to have an AI-augmented wheelchair handy, why?

He also dresses up like a ninja when he’s skating, goes around in a kimono in his daily life, etc. etc. Okay, maybe the kimono can be excused since he’s a calligrapher (though I’m pretty sure that’s not the norm regardless, except for maybe if the artist is at some sort of exhibition?), but people’s costumes seem to show off who they really are beneath the mask they put on for society. So Cherry secretly wants to be a ninja. xD

I’m not on any specific ship, but if I had to pick one to board, it would be Matchablossom.

Can we please have a spinoff that’s just about Adam, Cherry, and Joe when they’re teenagers?

Snow (Hasegawa Langa)

Frankly, Langa’s only up this high because I love his dynamic/rivalry with Adam. If Adam didn’t exist, he’d be below Joe, maybe below Tadashi.

Not that I don’t like Langa, but he’s just an oblivious skating nerd. He’s skilled and passionate, but I don’t really feel that he really stands out as a standalone character. He’s more of a foil for other characters (mostly Adam and Reki).

I guess what stands out the most to me is his ability to improvise when he’s falling behind, since his skill level is understandably lower than most of the other people he skates against. Like finding alternative pathways to the finish line versus Shadow and Miya, or using Joe’s strength to propel him forward. Or just, like, flying off the edge of a cliff to take a shortcut. That too. xD

His snow motif is pretty cool. (No pun intended.)

And I won’t deny that he’s cute. He’s actually the reason I started watching, because I saw some fanart of him and got curious. Came for the Langa, stayed for the Adam. <3

I feel bad for him for having a jealous jerk as basically his only friend though.

Joe (Nanjo Kojiro)

He’s such a teddy bear. <3

Joe’s the heart to Cherry’s brain, and I adore the way they balance each other out. I love Vitriolic Best Buds.

What surprised me, though, is that Joe seems to have a better understanding of Adam’s current character than Cherry does, since Cherry is so precise and analytical. Though the flashback clarified that some since it’s pretty obvious that Cherry is/was biased where Adam is concerned. Sure, Joe was also friends with Adam back then, but it seems that Cherry was the one most star-struck by Adam.

But Joe obviously knows and accepts that Adam’s changed, unlike Cherry, though he probably doesn’t know the reason why. He seemed to be expecting something to happen during the race, so it didn’t surprise him when it did, though he was sad/disappointed by it. It seemed like he was concerned and wanted to warn Cherry before his race (which is super cute), and when everyone else was flinching from seeing the assault on Cherry, Joe didn’t look away. I don’t think he knew exactly what Adam was going to do (I don’t think anyone did, lol), but he knew Adam was going to do something.

I don’t think he was serious when he said the reason Adam is avoiding their beefs is because he’s afraid he’ll lose, though. Yeah, he wants to race Adam, and he wants to win, but I think he’s more grounded when it comes to Adam, so he probably knows that Adam would beat him if it came down to it. Whereas Cherry legitimately thought he could win if Adam held back.

Also, his skateboard wheels are ridiculous. How do they even work?

Snake (Kikuchi Tadashi)

He got an ask post, yay, so not going to rehash it here.

I really hope that Adam realizes at some point that Tadashi is the only person who really knows and understands him, and comes to appreciate everything that Tadashi’s done for him.

Miya (Chinen Miya)

Such a brat, omg.

I get that he’s a kid, and kids are brats, and so it’s a fairly realistic depiction. I just hate kids. >.>

Pretty much the only time I’ll really like a child character is when they’re precocious as fuck and not child-like at all, which I get defeats the purpose, but that’s me.

Brattiness aside, he is skilled and appreciates Reki standing up to Adam on his behalf, so much so that he’s willing to spend his time training a “slime” just so Reki doesn’t get completely crushed by Adam. And he’s also willing to work with Langa to teach him the most difficult trick in skating (the Caspar Slide) for the same reason.

Ultimately, he’s a good kid, but he’s had some bad experiences that make it harder for him to trust people since he’s afraid they’ll leave him. He’s still willing to try, though, if people will give him a chance.

Also, the one ep when they go on vacation and Miya pretends Joe is his daddy (and Cherry is his mommy, rofl--hi Matchablossom!) to drive away the women Joe’s hitting on... hilarious.

Kyan Reki 

An even bigger brat.

Again, yeah, he’s a teenager and teens are “just like that,” but I hate those kinds of characters.

Just because his friend is a skating genius, he gets all pissy and stops being friends with him? Showing up to cheer Langa on and then completely running away doesn’t redeem him in my eyes. I get that he’s disappointed that he’s not capable of skating at the level of the top skaters and frustrated that Langa surpassed him so easily, but that’s no excuse to take it out on Langa (or anyone else).

And everyone complains about Adam being possessive, but they just gloss over the fact that Reki repeatedly tries to force Langa to promise to not skate against Adam, even roping in their manager, when he knows that Langa likes accepting challenges and has fun doing them. He just wants to keep Langa to himself, and he’s jealous as fuck that Langa is obsessed with skating against Adam.

Langa even explicitly tells him that he’s not racing Adam just because he’s upset about what Adam did to Reki, but because he wants to do it. Which is the exact same fucking reason Reki gives for not listening to Joe and Miya, and Langa supports his decision then. Why can’t Reki do the same?

Yes, he’s traumatized because his friend who introduced him to skating was seriously injured and had to quit skating, and he got hurt skating against Adam, but just like for Adam: YOUR TRAUMA/BACKSTORY DOES NOT JUSTIFY YOUR BEHAVIOR.

Plus, the whole “we’ll never disappear from your sight” that he told Miya? Psych!

Like, seriously. He knows the kid has abandonment issues because people leave him because he’s too good at what he does, and then he just goes ahead and poofs, putting both Miya and Langa through the same exact fucking thing.

Though I’m sure that the power of friendship will give him a miraculous recovery and he’ll build a new board for Langa so Langa can beat Adam before Adam gets hauled off to jail. It’ll probably be a cheesy make-up where Langa says something about how he can only use Reki’s boards, so it’s like they’re skating together when he races or whatever.

I do respect his ability to observe other skaters and make boards that are perfectly suited to them, though. And he knows that he’d be good in that support role. But he wants to be the hero, so he’s suffering from eighth grader syndrome and lashing out because reality doesn’t conform to his wishes.

Shadow (Higa Hiromi)

Just fucking die already, ‘kay?

I don’t even know what to say. He’s all caught up in his “antihero” complex or whatever (I don’t even remember if that’s the right term, and I don’t give a fuck), and he’s got a nasty personality. Like burning Reki’s board or threatening to have a guy tattoo “Dumpster Slut” above his girlfriend’s name.

You really expect me to believe that he’d treat his manager respectfully if they started dating when he does something like that? His polite florist persona is such a sham.

And he’s a shit skater. How the hell is he in the top 8? If they can throw in a random guy we’ve never seen before (Harry), then they could have just as well put in some other trash mob instead of Shadow, who only didn’t get knocked out in the quarterfinal round because he was racing a nobody.

Imo, all of his “cute” little tricks like throwing fireworks at his opponent or shining a laser into their eyes is worse than what Adam does. Once he does that, he relinquishes all control over the situation, so anything could happen, such as his opponent crashing into a wall or falling off a cliff, which could result in serious injuries or even death. On the other hand, Adam always remains in control when he’s trying to throw off his opponent by forcing them to dance with him and freaking them the fuck out by pushing their limits. Even when he’s holding Reki’s head about an inch above the ground, he won’t let Reki brain himself on a rock or something. And even when he smacks Cherry with his skateboard, his attack leaves Cherry conscious and so lightly injured (relative to what could have been) that he doesn’t even need to stay in the hospital. (I don’t think he actually needs a wheelchair, other than probably being a bit woozy from a concussion, maybe. And maybe not even that if Joe isn’t concerned enough to wake him up/keep him from being unconscious.) Yeah, Adam fucks with his opponents, but if they can get over it, they can get back on a board. There’s a good chance that won’t happen if they get in an accident caused by Shadow, other than for anime logic.

“What about Adam’s Love Hugs??” What about them? Yes, he’s not holding on to his opponents to control their falls, but the point of it is to make them flinch and fall backwards, against the line of motion. That naturally will decrease the severity of their physical injuries, unlike when Reki and Harry fall off the course at full speed versus Shadow.

The only reason he doesn’t have a higher body count than Adam (or even a literal body count) is plot convenience, since he’s not the villain.

[burningthemidnightcityoil]

THE ALPHA TIMELINE AND SPACE

Biiiig time Homestuckery spoiler stuff here.

Outside of how they are interpretative, used as powers, symbolized or otherwise, the Aspects do appear to have direct functions outside of created Universes. As shown by the Intermission (and by extension, HS^2).

So when you’re in the Medium, the Aspects all act akin to the laws of nature or physics, they will act beyond your power and control, even if you’re a god or the top god or whatever.

So let’s talk about Time.

Time tends to just tick on. If choices (Mind) comes into play, multiple timelines may appear (Mind deals in the idea of Multiverses born from significant Choices) but Time ultimately doesn’t care.

But that changes when there’s a Paradox.

Time wants to or will always try, to solve a paradox. Because as one really great fanfic once pointed out, Time isn’t just a Line, its also a Circle. But we’re not here to talk about Cycles (Heart based), we’re here to talk Paradoxes.

There are plenty of minor paradoxes in Homestuck, such as the Rabbit’s journey, or Dave’s time shenanigans, or the Trolls retroactively becoming future involved in past future human tomfuckery.

But.

Homestuck is already one Huge Paradox.

This is the Alpha Timeline, or Lord English’s Paradox.

See, the phrase “He is Already Here” is a bit more important than you think. Caliborn was born in Universe C, (Evidence: Troll Planet. Dead Earth populated by Bro Dave’s shitty jpg Statue of Liberties) which we know to have been created by our Humans / Trolls, who implanted Alpha Earth into this universe.

But thanks to outside intervention (literally), the Cherubs’ coming into contact with the Humans, Gamzee, and SBURB is literally LE’s Paradox catching up to him preemptively and retroactively. This is both where the paradox ends and starts.

And thus, Caliborn has, had and will always be, Lord English. And since he always has been, and always will, the rest of the Medium now has to spend literal eons dealing with both Caliborn’s choices, and how Caliborn came to be. As Lord of Time, literally its commander, as well as someone who basically perma-ate his immortality clock (he commands his own Time), the Medium now has to deal with both Caliborn’s choices and figure out how he came to be.

Everything has to solve / fullfill Caliborn’s paradox, while also showing the underlying and horribly toxic influence that Lord English has on everything he ever comes into contact with.

And of course it starts and ends with some poor kid’s 13th birthday, with the best fucking question anybody has ever asked.

But.

The nature of Paradox Space is that you literally make your own story, and how complicated and out of control it gets, and how out of your depth you are.

And that starts with...

The planet the Cherubs grew up on never needed a backstory. It could’ve just been a dead planet that once had a civilization, with only vague hints at what it was once like. Trolls could easily be imaginary creatures, born out of some lonely and tormented girl’s mind, or since they’re in the universe presently, they could’ve been around but just didn’t do much. There, at no point, ever required the fuss that is Homestuck.

This, is Alt Calliope’s timeline. A multiverse Space that never had any outside intervention, never had any of the fuss. Space cares about possibility and impossibility, and knows that you don’t need all this bullshit to just exist, or just be. You’re not gonna grow up next to cyclopean walls, and expect to meet actual Cyclopes.

Time wants direction, a reason, a pattern to follow. Space wants creation, it wants to be and it doesn’t care about patterns or explanations. 

But that all went to hell when the game for the Alternate Cherubs started. Due to LE’s influence across the Medium, Alt Calliope’s game was ruined before it even started, because in another session, Caliborn was already making his way downtown, and LE was already here.

And yeah, from Homestuck’s standpoint, she’s probably the good guy. But there in lies a different problem. She’s not.

Alt Calliope is akin to Lord English, in that she decides what IS and ISNT. HS^2 is showing us this, right now, how dangerous she / they actually are (and I imagine that they’re going to become the villains right quick).

But.

You have to remember, the Aspects are like Laws, the IS and ISNT, they’re the underlying nature of reality and they’re too incomprehensible to have anything we might consider a conscious will. They simply Are.

I imagine in a normal session, Doomed Timelines don’t occur as often as they do in Homestuck. If something messes up, a Time Player can go back and try a new avenue, rather than be forced to only make specific choices. Its only if a paradox gets made that Doom starts creeping in.

Dido for Space. Things of Space are going to exist, no matter what Cherub or Human God Brats say or thinks, as proven by both Candy and Meat existing co dependently and interconnectedly.

AHEM

SPACETIME => FONDLY REGARD CREATION.

[need-a-new-hobby]

the descent into hell isn’t easy

s1 ep 2

so i got 2 notes on my last post so imma keep going

did simon just compare jace to mick jagger?!? HA!

did clary just say that she thinks jocelyn is at the center of their war?!? WhAt? look, i get that this girl wants to find her mom, but assuming that the entire shadowhunter race (also they call themselves a race) is fighting over her mom is just... idek what to call it? Arrogance? Naïveté?

also did noone think to bring the body inside?

i swear alec is so done with jace and his mundanes. his entire thing is just ‘another one?’

i’m sorry, i think my eyes just rolled down the back of my skull with the whole ‘best friends’ thing. 

can i just point out that matthew daddario is just watching isabell flirt with simon with such amusement? it’s adorable.

my god, i forgot that they torture their tutor to get info on the circle. i know hodge deserves this later, but seriously, how could clace do that?

‘i hate to make you suffer like this.’ are y’all serious? she’s borderline torturing this guy for info. somehow she makes me angrier by apologising. 

also this kinda thing is so classic. ofc none of them know their own violent history. did no-one bother to find out growing up? i hate to say this but if clary’s right about one thing, it’s the insanity behind not knowing their own history.

also, this scene is one of the first that made me sorta dislike clary. rewatching it just makes me angrier.

‘what is a g. i. joe?’ them not knowing clary and simon’s pop culture references is the funniest. refer to mick jagger above

also where the hell was she planning to go? and clary’s explanation of what a g.i. joe is is kinda off. i always assumed a g. i. joe was like an all-american hero (see steve rogers)

yikes! clary stepped on mom issues. i have no empathy/sympathy for her, she needs to calm down

‘in the shadow world, no training and no plan gets you killed’ - the first sane thing i’ve heard jace say all season.

kay, jace has got to be some kinda genius to go from ‘my memory’s blank’ to ‘your memory’s been wiped’. my memory goes blank all the time. i don’t remember what i had for dinner last night.

one more implausible thing, how doesn’t she know what a warlock is? i mean she’s 18, it’s 2016, has she not heard of Harry Potter, or LOTR for that matter? she’s simon’s best friend, she has to have come across it at some point in time.

kay, first of all, we all saw dot fall through a window about maybe 10 ft high, crack her neck on a fence and fall on the pavement. how is she still alive? 

also, i know luke’s meant to be a good guy and all, but he literally just treated dot like crap considering all she’s been through. and insinuating that she can’t be trusted when he himself was a circle member is just plain discrimination. 

also, she gets it. ‘if anyone can help, it’s magnus bane’. i get it, my baby is super powerful, but please don’t get him killed. i can already sense the magnus bane sass™️

izzy’s so pretty! and her hair is flawless. but the way she says ‘he’s the ultimate protector’, i just can’t

btw, love the inclusion of the ‘izzy can’t cook’ gag from the books. but kinda implausible that she can make porridge but completely burns toast. nvm, the porridge looks nasty (sorry, iz, i still love you though, bad porridge and all)

can i just ask that if jocelyn fray’s real name is fairchild, why would searching her pseudonym come up as restricted? also, hodge very conveniently forgot to tell them that jocelyn was married to valentine or that her real name was fairchild. that’s just sloppy.

also luke’s friendship with his boss is so pleasing to watch (terrible phrasing i know) i mean so often female captains are seen as these stoic, always angry and fierce officers with terrible relationships with their underlings. it’s nice to see her joking around with a colleague. 

clary’s uncomfortability with izzy’s clothing is canon, but she’s basically wearing a camisole. it’s a lot less revealing that izzy’s regular clothes. at least there’s no slutshaming! plus she’s gonna be wearing a jacket on top, but ofc everyone’s comfort levels are different.

I’m so glad that Clary and Izzy are both so positive towards each other. I mean compared to the books, not that bad

‘do you know how to fight demons?’ to ‘i’m an internet search away.’ simon’s the best. 😍😍

i mean, who in their right mind would approve the mission? sure, they’re not teenagers, but they’re messing with Valentine, for crying out loud. besides, we all know how much the clave prioritises down and out warlocks.

‘little girl’

‘clave thing,’ someone needs to educate this selfish matchstick. first of all, she can’t expect alec to turn his back on the clave, they need the clave’s resources to keep the institute running. second of all, she doesn’t really need to go. think about it, if alec, jace and izzy can track down a shapeshifter to a nightclub, they can handle a warlock. besides, she’d just be dead weight anyway. i just hate that clary doesn’t get better than this.

haha, alec’s salt kills me. ‘well, since you have all the answers...’ 

oh, so she’s not gonna explain the vision giving gemstone lolling around her neck? fuuun

‘you were kidding about the runes on the floor killing me right?’ alec’s smile aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. i love one grumpy cat smile so much. also this is like his first smile in the 2 eps

sorry, but magnus’s face when dot grabs his arm, just like ‘bitch who do you think you are?’ 

instant priorities people. see, magnus understands the concepts of ‘risk’, ‘danger’ and ‘consequences’, unlike one matchstick i won’t name. (“I’ve been busy trying to save our people from certain death”)

hahaha, the foreshadowing -> “are you really gonna risk your life for a shadowhunter?” - this is why magnus is my fave.

okay, couple really weird things i have to point out. first off, clary sucks at running. i get that running in heels is hard, i can’t even walk in them, but i can’t believe that the entire institute doesn’t have one good pair of sneakers. second, alec is just walking in the back, that’s how slow they’re going. third, are they seriously just following clary around the club on some strange whim instead of attacking the club strategically? 

but seriously, her running though. her arms are just waggling around. seriously, guys, sneakers.

kay, clary is way too hyper right now. alec never said they were giving up, just that it wasn’t safe and they had to get back to the institute. which is absolutely true, if circle members are after dot in pandemonium, they’re probably in the vicinity

im sorry, but watching alec and izzy know exactly what jace is planning with the silent brothers and in sync just going ‘jace, no’

‘a process that can also kill you, so there’s that.’ i mean, what’s the downside?

‘your bedside manner is abysmal’ - kay, i’m still kinda pissed off rn so that’s probably coming across here, but dude, you are both adults and she needs to know the risks involved. how tf was he supposed to say that...not abysmally? sorry, im a big alec defender. i think its an older sibling thing.

wait, 18 rules? damn, jace has to have like a record or something. i reckon 18′s probably exaggerating. i’d guess at 10, maybe 12.

hold up, he’s asking clary to decide whether she should get her memories wrenched out of her by the silent brothers w/o knowing the risks involved? not a sound decision.

why is she so fucking smug towards alec? it’s kinda hard to see at first, you have to replay it a couple times. maybe it’s just me cuz im writing this late at night but her attitude towards alec really gets under my skin.

also, i think satan is on simon’s van. that’s not at all disconcerting

also, why is this all happening at night? and wasn’t isabelle making breakfast before? 

‘are you kidding? i was born afraid.’ first of all, mood. second of all, proof why simon is my child.

tbh, i really wanted to see a better brotherhood between jace and alec. like, it is still better than in the books, where jace practically ignores alec’s existence until he gets injured by Abaddon. (a moment i wish was in the tv show, but too complicated, i understand.) but i think in this scene, where they discuss the steps they’re taking, you kind of see the chemistry between them. well, not really chemistry, maybe more just their relationship. 

first off, alec tries explaining to jace that even though clary’s made the decision, they’re responsible for her wellbeing, something that isn’t in the book. i really appreciate this bit, primarily because you see why alec is so fussy about missions. as the season progresses, you see the kind of pressures that are on him, something that makes me hate clary all the more

second, jace counters this by giving him the bigger picture. this is a step they need to take to find valentine. i think that’s something the books don’t give you either. you kinda start seeing that without jace, alec gets stuck on the minor details i.e. rules, stipulations etc. and without alec, jace wouldn’t be able to calculate the risks of each decision, which i think is key to understanding them as parabatai.

third, alec’s soft little ‘you were never a stray’ tugs at my heartstrings every time. jace really is family to them, a brother for them and i love that he sort of forces that down; that despite their last names, despite their bloodlines, they will always be brothers, a sentiment i absolutely adore

haha, jace c*ckblocking simon since 2016

i’m still not over the notion that valentine is holed up in chernobyl, of all places. i am really glad though that they didn’t follow the trope of the US being like the only country in the world, or New York being the only city on the planet.

did i mention how confused i am that dot is still alive?

yeah, did not miss jace’s arrogance

‘kay despite the fact that i hate everything about her, i have to commend clary on how much she loves her mom. i mean, i know a lot of people who wouldn’t do the same. and despite the fact that jocelyn lied to her for 12 years (based on what she tells magnus later on) she’s still willing to do whatever it takes.

‘you’re clary freaking fray, you can do anything.’ cue alec eye-rolling in the back. look, it’s not that i have anything against simon and clary being vocal about their bff status, it’s just that a) i would never talk to my best friend like that and b) it is thoroughly making me cringe

kay, i’ve rewatched this scene a dozen times and here’s what i noticed

‘i have seen every horror movie ever and the funny best friend who gets left behind...dead man’

cue isabelle laughing

jace: you’re not that funny

alec is just so done with these f*cking mundanes. “the rune energy will kill any mundane that dares to enter, so please.” motions for the mundie to keep going. 

kay, before i keep going, i’ve noticed this post is going on for a bit, and re-reading, i feel like i have to clarify why i dislike jace’s arrogance but not alec’s. i think it’s mainly because jace’s arrogance stems from a need to be superior to others, which is common with victims of child abuse, or so i’ve read. knowing this makes it a little harder to hate him, but this kind of behaviour, while is justifiable, often leads to them tearing down another person’s self-worth, which you can kind of see in the books. alec’s arrogance mainly stems from being exhausted from dealing with other people’s bullshit, which i can’t really dislike. i’m an older sibling myself, so i kinda know what he goes through dealing with siblings and such. you’ll see with the next point.

‘talk about sacrifice, i’m missing a financial analysis class.’ first off, what kind of class starts in the middle of the night? second, i’d rather be in the city of bones than in financial analysis. third, i feel alec’s exasperation.

‘yeah, i can’t be around this, so imma mind the perimeter.’ *gestures to simon’s entire body*

i dunno why clary’s hugging simon like that, it’s not like he’s the one going down there. i’m gonna move on before i overanalyse and come up with more ways why i don’t like clary

izzy keeps making simon uneasy and I LIVE FOR THESE MOMENTS

aight, imma keep it honest, i skipped the whole city of bones/clace section the first time cuz they’re so boring. but it’s pretty much just jace making stupid jokes and clary being kinda whiny.

‘looking better in black than the widows of our enemies.’ a line that lives rent-free in my head.

also, he keeps saying she’s a shadowhunter now, but she hasn’t done much shadowhunting. she doesn’t even know what the clave is

aand now they’re holding hands. great. very professional y’all.

silent brothers. looking creepy since the dawn of nephilim. but for my book stans, where’s brother smackariah?

imma be honest, i feel bad for the silent brothers. i mean, they’ve devoted themselves completely to the shadowhunter profession, mutilated themselves for the attainment of knowledge, and yet, the first thing that comes to mind is fear instead of admiration. yikers.

“if you are not strong enough, the soul sword will kill you.” this show needs to stop getting my hopes up

“it literally never stops talking.” i love alec with all my heart.

i know i shouldn’t but it’s so funny that they keep referring to simon as ‘it’

“my father is valentine.” cue matchstick running. 

alec is the only sane person on this team. how is he the only one that doubts clary’s loyalty? i mean, i’ll admit he could have phrased it better, but book!Alec is canon for being straightforward so i’m shrugging it off. jace should’ve been a leetle understanding and for once, i think clary’s reaction towards alec was justified. finding out she’d valentine’s daughter, and then being accused of espionage isn’t a fortunate series of events. but alec is correct in his own right. as head of the institute, he needs to make sure. again, he’s always mindful of the consequences behind his actions. even when simon is kidnapped, he doesn’t act rashly, even though no-one would blame him for sticking an arrow through Raphael for kidnapping Simon. (don’t get me wrong, i love raphael.) but he doesn’t, keeping the accords in mind. they’d all be screwed if they broke the law, and alec would be held responsible.

that’s all folks. tune in tomorrow for episode 3

[tfw-no-tennis]

the animorphs continues, david trilogy style

here we are...we finally arrived....the david triology

I did remember a good amount of these books from when I read these when I was like 11. but I also forgot a lot an hooooly shit 

WHERE TF DO I EVEN START. so that shit slapped obvs. it really felt like the series has been leading up to this - all the characters have had to make really difficult no-correct-answers decisions, and it leads up to this - the ultimate shitty situation with absolutely no good, clear solutions, and everyone gets to contribute to the awful conclusion! 

one thing that really stood out to me is that with David's inclusion as this kind of ‘outsider’ within the group, even though none of it was from his POV, we still get a huge sense of the animorphs being an extremely well-oiled team, who all know and trust each other very well - especially w/Jake as the leader - Jake has to make a lot of decisions in these books but the other animorphs always listen to him 

this all probably didn’t help David, who was already thrown into a completely crazy situation, and who now has to deal w/this group of kid superheroes who work very well together. it also doesn't help that David doesn't really try to find his place on the team 

anyways I love how much wild shit happens in animorphs always. like they try to steal the blue box as birds and then David chases them off w/a bb gun? and then they end up in this huge alien showdown with visser 3 and his troops in David's house? batshit

also the hilariously 90s part w/the email...lmao. like its the 90s so there's no way to shut off the automatic email remotely, they HAVE to go to David's computer, and they also can just unplug it...lmao they should've just taken out the phone lines tbh

also I completely forgot about the whole plot w/the world leaders meeting and the yeerks and stuff. that really served to ramp up the tension and also make it obvious that David was an outsider as he consistently fucked things up then played it off

also KAA did a masterful job of making David juuuust a little sympathetic in book 20, but still Off enough that you're like ehhhh I don't know about this guy...then he goes full awful creep and it becomes obvious that there’s no way they’ll be able to let him stick around in any capacity 

the bit where David kills the crow for no reason is the first Real indication that this is gonna go seriously wrong. but even before all that, his conversations w/Marco gave me like, school shooter vibes 

these books are full of some REALLY good tension. the whole end of book 21 was so tense - they've been gearing up for this mission for days now, and they’ve had to do some crazy stuff to get where they are, so the realization that it’s all a trap is completely chilling 

and then when David tried to betray them to visser three...the gravity of that decision is unmistakable, because then the yeerks would find out that the animorphs are (mostly) human children, and they’d even know who they are, and that would be the end

I loved the part where David tries to act like he was just setting up an ambush w/his betrayal to the visser, and Jake immediately has everyone play along - and they do. earlier in the series someone - probably Rachel or Marco - likely would have ignored Jake bc of how slimy David was acting, but they've basically become a highly efficient military squad at this point, and it was a perfect slow slide into that over the last 20 books, and now is the time when the reader kinda realizes this (at least for me)

even if they don’t agree w/Jake and think they should just address the David problem right then and there, they all trust Jake as their leader to make that decision 

also the fact that these are the first books to do the ‘to be continued’ thing rather than wrapping the plot up...it really made it feel all the more tense 

in other books I normally look at the page count and go ‘ok so this conflict will be solved in this scene cause there are only 15 pages left’ (which is st I do a lot I now realize lmaooo I can pretty much gauge what’ll happen based on how many pages are left - and I do this when I read fanfic too, by looking at where the scroll bar is...anyways)

BUT w/these books its totally up in the air cause they can end anytime and just get continued next book, which makes it so much more tense imo

also I fucking loooove the part in book 21 where they’re hiding out with that little pool of yeerks - and I actually bookmarked some pages for these liveblogs, so I have quotes, this one from Jake - 

‘There was something wrong about killing defenseless slugs. I was pretty sure about that.’

Oh, Jake, that opinion is gonna change someday....

it is a little ironic considering he jacuzzi’d those yeerks in like book 7 or w/e. but alas its still a fantastic line that serves to show in the end how much things have changed 

also I love that the decision not to kill those defenseless yeerks end up helping them later - the yeerks check the pool bc they’re so certain that if the andalite bandits HAD snuck in, they surely would have killed the helpless yeerks. but they didn’t, so that means the andalite bandits didn't sneak in....

I like when the characters do a morally good thing and are then rewarded by the narrative for it - it’s pretty rare in this series, where there are usually NO morally correct choices (such is life) or they’re actively punished for making a ‘good’ decision (one could argue that the decision to make David an animorph instead of letting him become a controller was a morally good decision, but it had dire consequences). 

Ok and the part I have to talk about w/these books of course - everything w/Rachel. bc damn Rachel really goes through it in this trilogy. I absolutely LOVE the character development she gets, and I especially enjoyed the way her and Jake's relationship was developed

anyways, one of the best and most fucked up quotes of the series, from Jake’s POV in book 21  - 

<Ax? I think Tobias is dead,> I said. <I think David killed him.> <That would be a most terrible thing,> Ax said.  <Yeah. Get Rachel. If David’s killed Tobias, we may have to do a terrible thing, too. Get Rachel.>

AUGHHHHH fucking chills I swear. also eternal love for them saying dead/killed/etc and never shying away from it. it really wouldn't have the same impact if they used the normal kid-safe PG words 

but yeah Jake asking for Rachel when he thinks that they may have to hunt down and kill David? phewwww. 

and the significance of this is never downplayed. this essentially confirms that Jake sees Rachel as the one who is willing and able to do the dirty work - and specifically in this case, it’s also likely bc it was Tobias who was ‘killed’ and he knows how Rachel feels about Tobias

but like, that’s so fucked up, I love it. they give this situation the exact amount of weight it requires - ch1 of book 22 has this part from Rachel - 

‘If David had hurt Tobias, I would... But what was the point in making threats? I didn't need to make threats. I knew what I would do. So did Jake. That’s why he’d sent Ax for me.’

at first, it seems like Rachel is on the same page as Jake, but when it becomes clearer later that Jake sent Ax specifically to get Rachel bc she could do the terrible thing that had to be done - instead of just bc they needed reinforcements and she was closest - then things change 

but even when Rachel gets rightfully upset later over this, you get the sense she still never really sees any option other than to kill David. it’s not even the ‘killing David’ part that upsets her, it’s that Jake, her cousin, immediately thinks of her as the person to do the deed 

so, another fantastic quote from Rachel - 

‘Tobias was dead. Jake might still die. And I was going to have to go after David. I was going to have to hunt him down.  I was going to hunt him down and destroy him.  No, not destroy. That was a weasel word. It was vague, meaningless. I was going to kill him.’

fucking WOW. like really. that bit right there is just perfect quintessential dark animorphs. it just subverts the classic kid-friendly phrasing, using words like ‘hunt down’ and ‘destroy’ instead of kill. But Rachel says it like it is. she’s not going to destroy David, she’s going to kill him. 

But then a few pages later, after Ax tells her the quote where Jake asks for her specifically - 

‘It definitely made me feel strange. Jake had called for me specifically. Because he wanted someone who would do precisely what I was planning to do.  Like I say, I’m not big on feelings, but something about that felt wrong.’

I say it a lot but wow do these kids need So Much Therapy. these are like...8th graders. jesus christ. when I was in 8th grade I was busy planning sims-playing get-togethers w/my fellow 13 year old friends. christ animorphs 

and fuck, the part where Rachel threatens David’s family, and shoves a fork in his ear? jesus. and the fact that Jake knew that Rachel was going to threaten David and let her go do it...

and then afterwards, Rachel says - 

‘I felt...not exactly ashamed. But I knew I never wanted to talk to Cassie about what I’d just told David. Or Tobias. Or even Marco.’

I'm gonna make some leaps here but I think it’s really interesting that Rachel even mentions Marco here, and says ‘or even Marco.’ like, the ‘even’ seems to imply that Marco would otherwise be somebody she WOULD talk to about something like this.

which...kinda tracks, tbh. Marco is Mr Ruthless, he’s a cold, pragmatic strategist when he isn’t cracking jokes as a coping mechanism. it makes sense that Rachel would talk to him about things like this - he would make jokes, but he’d also understand 

I'm just so interested in all the highly varying dynamics that exist within the group okay 

and then right after Rachel says - 

‘But I swear at that moment I hated Jake far more than I did David.  I should have told them all what had happened. But Jake already knew, didn’t he? Jake, the smart, determined leader, already knew all about me.’

that's fucking daaark okay. It paints this picture of Jake having become this master manipulator who knows all about Rachel’s violent tendencies and is using them to his full strategic advantage

Oh my god okay and then all the stuff w/Saddler, christ. I had completely forgotten about that plotline but there was so much fucked up stuff there, too

and the scene where Rachel gives some good life advice to her little sister, and it’s a good bit to remind the reader and characters of the world outside of animorphs conflict...and then David speaks up. 

that was such brutal mood whiplash, when you realize that David is morphed and hidden in Rachels room somewhere...fucking chilling 

that whole scene just oozes disgusting creepiness. David’s fixation on Rachel specifically, and his rage at being ‘bested’ by her, really feels like misogyny to me. while David butted heads w/Marco, you never got the same sense of anger and disgust that he displays towards Rachel.

and the line where he says ‘hey, enjoy your shower’ made me shudder in disgust. christ. there are a lot of revolting, dark implications there.

also, book 22 obviously does a ton of fantastic character work for Rachel, but it does the same for Jake, too. and Cassie, but ill get to that later

we get to see so much of Jake as a leader and a strategist here, and pitting him and Rachel against each other (so to speak) makes for some excellent characterization, like when Rachel starts questioning why he asked for her - 

“I thought David had killed Tobias. I thought he might kill me. I wanted...firepower.”  “I see. You wanted me for my morphs.” It was a good answer. It could have almost been true. 

and then we get a brief pit stop at the children's hospital where the fucked up parade continues - David morphed Saddler, Rachel and Jake’s injured/dying young cousin, and is pretending to be him, miraculously recovered from his accident

and meanwhile he DUMPED THE REAL SADDLER’S BODY DOWN AN ELEVATOR SHAFT. I literally cant, what the FUCK. 

and they never really follow up on it but the whole family and all the Drs think its this miraculous recovery against all odds, but then obviously David disappears and therefore so does Saddler - do they ever find his real body? how completely fucked up that must have been - so much worse than if saddler had just died from his injuries - the miraculous recovery completely overturned by a bunch of stuff that doesn’t even make sense to anybody except Jake and Rachel....

anyways, after all that completely fucked up bullshit, we have the Jake and Rachel confrontation, Jake’s whole speech about Rachel is amazing, but here are my highlights - 

“I think you’re the bravest member of the group. I think in a bad fight I’d rather have you with me than anyone else. But yeah, Rachel, I think there’s something pretty dark down inside you. I think you’re the only one of us who would be disappointed if all this ended tomorrow.”

I mean, christ. imagine your fellow 13 year old cousin saying this to you. oh MAN. and I love so much that Jake isn’t wrong, but he also is? he understands what Rachel will do, but not why she’s doing it. and I talked abt it before but Rachel has found herself in this box of ‘the brave/reckless blood knight,’ and feels pressure to live up to that reputation. 

so how much of it is a façade that she puts on bc she’s expected to, and how much of it is how she really feels? well, she got that reputation initially for a reason, but she gets pushed more and more in that direction as the series progresses, both bc of the unintentional pressure to live up to her role as the Xena of the group, and bc it’s really, really useful to have somebody like Rachel on your side

Then Rachel says -

‘I tried to look at myself the way Jake saw me. Was it true? Did I love this war?’

I'm gonna lose it, these poor fucking middle schoolers. Rachel, listen, you’re 13, you’re a child soldier, of course you don't love the war you’re fighting...I need every child therapist on the block to come here right now

like jesus being 13 is hard enough without all this nonsense. it’s such a tenuous time in development, and add something like this - someone like Rachel, who is somewhat pigeonholed by society as ‘vapid, pretty blonde who loves to shop’ would of course flourish in an environment where she gets to show how much of a 3-dimensional Person she is - she can love shopping and also kick ass! nice! but also, like, trauma. 

So then Rachel says this about Jake - 

“Jake, you’re a leader now. You make life-and-death decisions. All the time. You’ve learned to do that. And,” I added bitterly, “you’ve learned to use people. You use them for their strengths and their weaknesses.” 

Fucking read, wow. I feel like Rachel is absolutely correct here, if not simplifying things a lot. like, yes, Jake does make these unfathomable decisions on the regular, but he’s got tons of conflict over every single thing he does, and there was a lot of uncertainty and trial-and-error leading up to this. but she is correct that he’s learned, and is clearly a lot more comfortable in his role as a military leader now. 

I just love the contrast these two have. Rachel, with the burden she carries as the bravest - the fighter of the team, who must be relied on in battle and to do the things that nobody else will do - and Jake, the leader, who has to make decisions knowing that he could get his friends killed at any time, and still trust that they’ll listen. 

And then Jake says - 

“But everyone draws their own line[...] For example, see, I used to think my line was drawn at using my friend, my cousin, to do my dirty work. Guess that turned out not to be true. Sorry, Rachel.” 

And then they hug and vow to murder David together, as a team. Heartwarming cousin bonding! Again, so much therapy. 

So yeah I love that scene. especially when you take into consideration Rachel’s ultimate fate, and Jake’s part in it. excuse me while I go weep. 

Anyways, to the end. THE ENDING....it gets me every time. I’ll never be over it. I don’t remember much about animorphs from when I read it at age 11 but I really really remember the ending to book 22. The way they masterfully set David up, the rat morph, the pipes, THE LEGO, the reveal that they planned the entire thing, the moment when David realizes what’s going to happen to him....oof. It’s not something I could forget, even w/my notoriously horrible memory when it comes to media 

Also I feel like there was more subtle misogyny when David insists on humiliating/subjugating Rachel, just because she proved earlier that she was stronger and smarter and better than him...eugh David is just such a disgusting creep that you don’t even end up feeling bad for him even though he’s a middle schooler being handed a fate worse than death. I mean, he tossed a dead/dying kid’s body down an elevator shaft in a children's hospital. I’m pretty sure he deserves this. 

And here’s the part where I talk about Cassie. because even though she didn’t get a POV book in the David trilogy, she still got some brutally fantastic character development. here we see David starting to realize what’s happening - 

‘Cassie was crying.  David hadn't asked who the mastermind of the plan was. Who it was who had so accurately appraised his emotions, his need to build his ego, the fact that he would choose me to be his “companion.” Cassie, of course. Cassie had worked it out, step by step, after Jake and I had failed to come up with anything.  For Cassie, it was an improvement over the alternatives. See, no one was going to have to die.  But David’s life would end, just the same.’

CASSIE. The dark horse, except not really, bc this is perfectly in line with what we know about her, especially coming off book 19, her last POV book before this. in that book she makes some absolutely awful decisions, all to avoid having to kill somebody. 

After all of Jake and Rachel’s badass vows to take David down, it’s Cassie who finds the solution. 

To a lot of people, David’s fate could be considered worse than death. To Cassie, it’s a better alternative. That speaks volumes about her, and I love it. 

Also, the MANIPULATION. Cassie in the David trilogy really gets to flex her interpersonal manipulation skills, which I love to see. It’s such a fascinating aspect of her character; a really interesting use of empathy

Like the scene in book 20 where David freaks out as a roach and she manipulates him into not giving them away by pitting him against Marco, someone who David doesn’t get along with, by saying ‘if Marco can do it, can’t you?’ because she knows he’ll fall for it. And he DOES. 

And then the part in the cafeteria where she basically plays the ‘good cop’ to everyone else in the group’s ‘bad cop.’ Not ONLY does she manage to get David to shut up and listen to her, she also posits her theory that he wants to blue box to trade it for his parents - which his reactions to her questions confirms as true. and nobody else in the group suspected this. 

She lures him into a sense of security by talking kindly and quietly about how she understands how he feels, then hits him with what she knows and gets him to confirm it, which then allows Rachel to accurately threaten him. 

And then Cassie, offscreen, comes up with the entire plan on how to trap David as a rat, because from the beginning she had him figured out. David didn’t pay much attention to Cassie - more misogyny tbh, as Cassie is the girl on the team who isn’t an aggressive, feminine blonde - and that ended up being a huge reason for his downfall. 

David also didn’t pay much attention to Tobias, and clearly didn’t see him as human at all, and that made Tobias very valuable after David assumed he had killed Tobias. 

Ok, back to the ending - the fact that it was Rachel and Ax who stayed there to wait the two hours for David to become a nothlit....

Rachel says - 

‘Jake’s a good leader. He knows when to use us. He knows when to protect us. He knew he had to protect as many of his people as he could from what was going to happen.’ 

fucking brutal. TWO HOURS of listening to this awful kid beg and threaten and barter. I can’t even imagine. 

And Ax too! He gets overlooked a lot as an alien, and it’s probably true that all of this impacts him differently than the other human animorphs, it can’t be in any way pleasant to have to sit there for two hours and act as a living timer to count down this kid’s life. Ax is a kid, too, and an isolated one at that, being the only Andalite on the team. 

So yeah that scene is awful. Rachel even says - 

‘Two hours. But that two hours of horror will last forever in my mind. If I live a hundred years, I will still hear his cries, his threats, his pleading, each night before sleep takes me. And beyond sleep, in my dreams.’

I know I’m beating a dead horse here, but jesus christ, THEY NEED SO MUCH THERAPY. The fact that one of the constants in all of the POVs is the nightmares that all the animorphs consistently have....geez

Okay so I know in my last two liveblogs I ended them by comparing animorphs to another series - hxh and mtmte - but I honestly am drawing a blank for this...

I guess the only thing I can think of is to compare it to mob psycho 100, which is another very good, very subtly subversive series 

In mp100, the entire Point is that the very powerful psychic middle schoolers DON’T end up using their powers to fight life-or-death battles against adult enemies in order to save the world and whatnot. the Point is that that’s fucked up, and these kids shouldn’t be responsible for something like that, no matter how powerful they are 

and basically the character who says all that is Reigen, an adult who actively prevents the middle schoolers from joining what would be some very traumatizing fights 

basically my point here is less to compare the two shows and more to say - the poor animorphs could really use a Reigen huh. like, they seriously need an adult who’ll step in and say ‘wait a second, these kids are doing WHAT? hold the fucking phone, no way, get some actual adults in here to solve this shit. not today!’

the closest they could've come to an adult figure in their lives is Elfangor and he dies like 5 minutes after giving them superpowers, soooo....

man mp100 slaps I should rewatch it. anyways yeah the theme of this post is ‘the animorphs need therapy and also a stable adult figure in their lives to help them not get traumatized all the time’ thank you for coming to my ted talk

[magnolia-penn]

Future Vision Chapter 2

DIO? God?

Oop- sorry this took so long. It took me forever to write and I had no motivation to type it all from my notebook.

Also, brownie points to whoever finds the Avatar: The Last Airbender reference.

Warnings: Swearing (so much swearing), Spoilers (sorta), mention of death (no one important) lemme know if I missed anything

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"31 years!" Polnareff shouted in disbelief.

"Apparently." You shrugged, already over it.

The men were flabbergasted about your current predicament. Stands were a fairly new concept and to think that there was a Stand strong enough to pull you from the future, breaking all sorts of time and space laws? You'd have to be crazy!

Yet… There you were, completely adapted to the strange situation. You were thrown almost double the amount of years you existed and all it took was a quick scream session behind a sand dune for you to calm down? 

"You seem so startled. Stands have crazy abilities. My friend, Magnolia, works alongside a mafia boss with the ability to create infinite life and make it so you can never truly reach death!" You pumped your fist in the air in excitement. "Time travel doesn't seem that far out. My Stand isn't too terribly special, especially compared to some of the other Stands I've seen, but it's pretty cool."

The group's confusion settled deeper as you went on a tangent about future Stands that your friend has described from her time working at the Speedwagon Foundation. You used words that didn't make sense, phrases they didn't understand, but your growing excitement caused them to nod along with you.

"OH! And Stands can be upgraded! Although we do-" You cut yourself off suddenly, eyes zoned out.

You didn't say anything, just stared into the endless expanse of sand and heat. It was Kakyoin who spoke up first.

"Y/n? Are you alright?"

You snapped out of your trance with a start. "I FORGOT TO FEED MY FISH SHIT SEND ME BACK!"

Your sudden outburst sent Polnareff jumping back into Mr. Joestar, your attention dragged to him as his face dropped from confusion to somber defeat.

You picked up on the nervous weight shifts and glances away. You tried to look back at the man who brought you here, only for Mr. Joestar to clear his throat, bringing the attention back to him. He fumbled with his words a bit, trying to justify the shift in attention, but he ultimately failed.

"Oh ho no, I see what's going on," You said after Mr. Joestar gave up on trying to explain. "This fuck-" a pointed finger towards the corpse behind you, "was my only ticket back to the future?"

"Well no. Technic-" You cut the older man off.

"'Uh well no'," you mocked. "Lemme guess, he would've been the easiest way?"

"Now, Miss Y/n, there is no need to be so aggressive. I'm sure we can figure everything out. Our enemy, DIO, has a lackey-" 

You cut Avdol off as well.

"DIO? God? In Italian? What kind of narcissist names their kid 'God' in Italian?"

You gave a snort before falling into a fit of mocking laughter. Your humor was short lived, though, as Jotaro finally spoke up. Or shouted I guess.

"Can you shut up? Good grief, all you do is yap! God, all you women are the same."

You stopped your laughter to stare at the teen clad in black, sizing him up. It was a tense couple of minutes, an unstoppable force and an unmovable object locked in a stubborn standoff.

After a bit, you let out a chuckle and let your head fall back to face the sky.  You watched the clouds for a second before sighing.

"You know, Joots," You catch him visibly tense from the nickname. "I see why you become a marine biologist in the future. The ocean is powerful and terrifying. It's been like that from the beginning. My friend often describes me like the ocean, although, unlike the tides, who have decided to kill you millions of years ago," You bring your hand up near your face before clenching it into a fist, shimmering from the effects of your Stand. "I still haven't made up my mind."

Jotaro's face turns sour in fear for a split second before returning to the default steely glare. You watched in amusement as his Stand began to manifest, but the hesitation you saw in the purple being's eyes told you all you needed to know.

Jotaro was, at the very least, cautious of you.

But also curious.

You managed to make full contact with Hierophant Green, something no one can do unless a Stand is initiating the contact. Kakyoin also couldn't see you, so how could it've climbed up you? Stand don't act on their own violations.

You also mentioned the future Jotaro. He becomes a marine biologist? And one famous enough to be known by teenagers? Jotaro can't even name a famous marine biologist.

He figured killing you know would be disastrous, there was still much to learn from you. Maybe you held knowledge that once came with hindsight.

"Nice to see we're in agreement." Jotaro gruffed out, allowing Star Platinum to fully dissipate.

A small smile graced your features as you extended the same hand you threatened him with.

"Well then, a truce. Until we decide to kill each other." 

Jotaro nodded and took your hand, allowing a handshake to secure your mortalities.

For now.

"MON DIEU! I THOUGHT SHE WAS DEAD!" Polnareff wailed suddenly, startling the group.

Tension rolled off all of you as Avdol let out a sigh of relief. "I am quite surprised you are alive as well. Not many people can insult Jotaro and walk away intact, Y/n."

You chuckled and waved off the man's concern. "I may only have six brain cells, but I'm not stupid. He wouldn't do shit. Not without knowing what I can do."

"Is that so?" Jotaro let a small smirk slip out. It's hard not to grin when you were acting stupid.

You nodded and hummed in agreement. "I like to think I'm good at reading people."

Jotaro only scoffed and rolled his eyes, although there was an inset glimmer of amusement deep with those cerulean orbs.

"So what exactly does your Stand do?" Mr. Joestar asked the elephant in the room.

"Hmm? Oh, my Stand. Okay, so, here's the thing. My Stand is actually really weak." You confessed.

"My Stand, Chemical Romance, is only really good for getting info from people. I'm often called in to the Speedwagon Foundation to help with interrogations. My Stand allows me to talk to and understand other Stands. All those unintelligible noises your Stand makes are actually your soul trying to communicate, and Chem translates them for me. Even silent Stands or Stands with no humanoid form." You glanced at Mr. Joestar. "I can also touch and interact with them, like I did for Hierophant Green. Also, and we think this might just be a radius effect, but Stands become more sentient around me. They think for themselves."

And….. just like that you lost them. It's hard to understand  such complex Stands when all they know is Many Punch, Tasteful Nudes, French Sword, Fire Bird, and Shiny Rock.

"So… You can't actually follow through with your previous threats?" Kakyoin asked cautiously.

"Excuse you! Just who in the hell do you think you are? I am a whole ass person shaped can of whoop ass and no weak ass Stand or Death Parade wannabe looking ass is going to beat me!" You pumped your fist in the air again.

"Whew- That's the sort of can-do attitude our team needs." Mr. Joestar chuckled. "Wait, that wouldn't be a bad idea!"

"Oh ho? Does the great Joseph Joestar have an idea? Careful, Old Man, thinking can hurt ya." You joked.

"No no no no no hear me out. You need to get back to the future, we need to stop DIO from murdering everybody and taking over the world." Mr. Joestar explained. "We both have to get to Cairo for DIO! Join us! You and your Stand are really useful!"

Surprise crossed your face before slipping back to its usual cool façade.

"Nah, I was kind of digging the idea of shriveling up dead in the desert. Although~" you drawled. "I guess, if you're so desperate for my help. It would be immoral for me not to help you, you're so old, even thinking about fighting DIO is going to trigger a heart attack."

You snorted out a laugh and Mr. Joestar did chuckle a bit before you realized something.

"Sooo. Who exactly DIO? Other than some bitch who wants to take over the world." 

As quickly as a light flicking out of existence, the once humorous and airy atmosphere of the group became tense and tragic. The utter rage, disgust, and hatred for this mysterious man was palpable. Even the fun and boisterous Jean-Pierre Polnareff extruded murderous intent.

"DIO is a very bad man." Avdol broke the silence, but found himself unable to say more.

"Thanks for the life lesson, Dad," you spit sarcastically. "No. Who is he and what might he have done to sound so familiar."

"DIO is a monster that was created by greed and a lust for power. He is a vampire who ruthlessly slaughtered those who took him in when he was orphaned at the age of twelve." Mr. Joestar explained grimly. "He rejected his humanity to become something monstrous and immortal, but even now, that wasn't enough for him."

"He's notorious throughout the Speedwagon Foundation, whose founder fought him a hundred years ago. I wouldn't doubt it if his story still circulated in your years, Y/n." Avdol completed.

"All of us are here now because of DIO. Polnareff and I were under his control because of a flesh bud, Advol was almost conned into the same situation, and Jotaro's mother, Joseph's daughter, is under attack by her own Stand because it was forcibly awoken by him." Kakyoin said, then shot you a soft smile. "And I guess you as well."

"Oh yeah! Eli did mention they were looking for a girl who could strengthen DIO's Stand, so I guess he is why you're here!" Polnareff's smile returned to his face at the prospect of making a new friend who was in the same boat as them.

"Y'know, think back on it, I do vaguely remember my friend mentioning your mom, Joots." That damned nickname again. "Stand Sickness is what we call it now. That might be where I know DIO from." You shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "Anywho, now that that's settled, can we get out of the desert? I'm roasting to death."

"Oh! Of course! We have to get to the next town before nightfall anyways. To the car!" Mr. Joestar cheered.

You all piled into the three rowed vehicle. Jotaro and Polnareff sat in the way back, you and Kakyoin sat in the middle, with Mr. Joestar and Avdol occupying the front.

The road to the next town was filled with fill ins. They explained how they came together and how they defeated their foes that found them at every turn. You spoke of how the world has changed and advanced. You showed them your music and all the apps on your phone. You found that you were still connected to your home wifi at full strength, but you couldn't comment or post anything. All true contact to those in the future was cut off, but you could still consume media.

As the dust and corpse was left behind, you could feel the newly forged bonds between you and the men around you strengthen and grow, becoming more entangled and intertwined. And you felt happy about it.

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Belonging || Ariana & Kaden

TIMING: After this (x)  PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Kaden goes to visit Celeste’s tree and stumbles upon a distraught Ariana. Some heart to hearts ensue.  CONTENT: Mentions of domestic and emotional abuse

Kaden knew he should stay home, stay in bed, let his body recover. As far as he was concerned, it could recover on his way through the woods. He hadn’t meant to return so soon, but he always found himself gravitated to his home away from home. If he had to hazard a guess, he’d say he spent more time in the forest than in his apartment. Even if his non waking hours were considered. The longer he lay in his bed, the more his mind ran. Ran through his conversation with Morgan. With Deirdre. With Regan. What happened with Ariana. Alain. He couldn’t sit still and let them drown him. There was only one person he wanted to see right now, one person he wanted to sit with in silence and find some solace. Just one. But he was afraid seeing Regan would hurt more than help. She couldn’t completely offer what he needed, not right now. Or maybe she could but he didn’t feel like risking it. He had to be stronger right now, be the support, the anchor for her if he could. Not to mention, any discussion or questions she had would just confuse him more. And she was bound to have questions about his latest injuries, about his hunting, about what he wanted. 

No, Kaden needed silence. And comfort. That was one thing Celeste could still offer. It wasn’t as good as the guidance or patience she’d been able to give him in life, but it would have to do. So he’d walk through the woods, picking his way to a familiar tree. The sounds of the woods silenced his mind, it hushed the closer he got to her spot. In its stead, he heard something that sounded like crying. A step more and he felt it. The chill. He sighed and tried to hold back his heart from crumbling. He had two options. Turn around, let her have her solitude, or go to who he was sure was Ariana. He didn’t know if he could handle her grief along with his confusion, directionlessness right now. What would Celeste want him to do? He inhaled and walked to the tree. “Hey, Ari?” he said softly from a few feet away. “Are you-- do you want to be alone?” 

Everything in her still felt like it was spinning around. As if she couldn’t possibly grasp onto some sense of direction that would make all of this easier. If she had been so wrong about where she stood with Deirdre, what else could she have been wrong about? Was all of this for not? Trying to someone who could exist in two worlds the way Celeste? Ariana wondered if maybe it had been easier for her since for so long, it was just the two of them, but somehow her and Ulfric had managed, too. She had to be the fault here. She felt like a puzzle piece in the wrong box trying to wedge herself into places she didn’t fit. Like the little space carved for her in Deirdre’s home had never been right in the first place. It did nothing to lessen the still fresh sting of how quickly she’d been thrown out. She’d been too lost in her feelings to even hear anyone approaching. It was careless, really, but when a voice registered in her mind, at least she knew she was safe. Or would he turn her away just as quickly if he knew what she did to Sammy? No, she couldn’t let her mind go there right now. She sniffled and wiped away the tears on her jacket sleeve. “Kaden, hey,” she said weakly as she turned to look up to him, “I don’t-- Honestly, no, not really.” 

She motioned for him to join her and glanced back up at the tree. She’d sat here so many times before that she could practically remember every divot and line in the tree’s stump. It was funny to Ariana that they always seemed to meet this way, though the grin she made didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We have to stop meeting like this,” she joked as she absentmindedly took a fallen leaf in her hand. It crunched under the pressure of her palms and something about it relaxed her if only a little bit. She turned back to Kaden and asked, “What brings you out here?” 

Kaden nodded and silently took a seat next to her, close enough the could nearly brush shoulders. Normally he kept his distance, a space between. It felt silly now. After everything else, what happened the other night. There was no use pretending he didn’t give a shit, no use avoiding this. Whatever kinship this was. It was odd, the sensations spiking along his spine that normally sent him into alert, meant danger was near, in this place it felt like a strange sort of comfort. A constant reminder that he wasn’t alone, that his grief was shared. A reminder of his conflict and turmoil, too. But ultimately when sitting next to Ari like this, it felt like Celeste. Her work or doing or something like that, he couldn't put it into words. Maybe it was because he knew this was how she felt all the time when around her sister, some small piece of solidarity he could find with his fallen friend.

“We really do.” The smile Kaden tried to force onto his face didn’t quite seem to make it there. How many times had they ran into each other in the woods by this tree? Hell, he’d lost count. “Funny, I was about to ask you the same.” He exhaled and leaned farther back into the tree he was propped against. “Just needed some, I don’t know, something.” Well that was a shitty explanation. He tried again. “After what happened. And a few weeks ago. And last month. I just, I wanted--” Fuck, was the lump in his throat alreayd making an appearance. “Celeste would have understood. Wanted to talk to her. At her. I don’t know.” It just felt like the right place to be. And hell, he’d expected silence. So forming words around his thoughts wasn’t something he’d prepared for himself. “But that’s my bullshit. It doesn’t matter. And you’re not allowed to argue with me on that one. Why were you out here before I got here? What’s wrong?” 

They’d done this plenty of times before, often wordlessly, and it had become a comfort in its own right. A small reminder that she wasn’t the only one who wanted to keep Celeste alive in some way. Ariana noted he sat closer to her than usual though she wouldn’t mention it aloud. Their bond remained mostly unspoken and it seemed like it wasn’t something Kaden could deny anymore. Not when he’d been so distraught thinking he’d hurt her or when he’d gone through such extreme measures to make sure he saved people and kept her safe at the same time. The fact he wasn’t keeping his normal distance was enough for her to shake away the thought that everything with him was just as fragile as it had been with Deirdre. He knew the best and worst of what she’d done. Maybe not all the small details in between, but she felt comforted knowing whatever it was they shared wasn’t quite that delicate. 

“I get that. It’s nice to think she’s listening,” Ariana said as she leaned back on her palms and relished slightly in the feeling of dirt between her fingers. She listened as he spoke though it wasn’t something she could quite piece together. Given his answer was more of a nonanswer and just an indication that he had been struggling with things, too. “She would have understood,” she said simply, “She always did.” It’s where she felt like she was falling short. She wanted to understand how Deirdre could condone what Lydia had done. She wanted to understand what she had done that was so wrong. There was still that unwavering hollow feeling in her chest knowing she couldn’t return. She breathed out a sigh and responded, “You’re lucky I don’t have much in the way of arguing energy today. Plus, I kind of owe you one.” She leaned forward again and brought her hands to her lap, bringing a leaf to fidget with along. Another sigh was breathed out as she explained, “I was kind of… I don’t know, rejected by someone I considered family. Just felt shitty and wanted to be with her. It’s-- Do you ever feel like you have no idea what the fuck you’re doing? She always seemed to know what to do.” 

“Bet she would have had some great advice, too,” Kaden said. The words stung in their own way. Kaden wished he’d met her sooner, could have gleaned a little more from her, maybe then he’d have a few more answers than questions. It was funny, though, the more time he spent with the werewolf, the more he saw of the hunter in her. He wasn’t sure if he just didn’t let himself see it before but it was clearer every time they did this just how much Ariana had taken on of Celeste. Little things, mannerisms, phrases. Mostly the kindness. That one he’d known for a while. 

“You don’t owe me shit, alright.” His voice was small but the guilt that ate at him from just a month ago had only just started to dull. Sure, it wasn’t Ari then but that didn’t matter. Some part of him felt like he’d be atoning for that potential mistake for far longer than just one month of his life. A foreign thought, but the idea that he could have ended her life as easily as he had, it sent a shiver down his spine. She didn’t owe him shit. Kaden draped his forearms against his knees, folded his hands top of one another as he kept his eyes on the tree in front of them. That was until she explained her situation. His gaze drifted to her. She was hardly a big person to begin with, but her presence usually was. Right then? She seemed small. Smaller than she even was in reality. “Kid the only thing I’ve been sure of recently is that I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.” Another sigh escaped him. “I didn’t know her as long, but I’m sure Celeste questioned shit all the time, too. You don’t grow up like us and end up, well, you know. I bet she had a million questions and doubts about her choices.” He gave her shoulder a small nudge with his elbow, eyes turning back to the tree in front of him. “But she knew she was picking what was best for you every time. Even I know that. And I don’t know shit. Probably helped ease the doubt.” Not that he really knew. But he could guess. “You got lucky. Having her.” Kaden wasn’t sure that was comforting or not given what she’d just told him minutes ago. “Whoever rejected you, fuck them.” There was more he wanted to say, thought about saying, but he couldn’t make the words leave his lips. Not yet. 

“She would,” Ariana agreed. How many times had she rolled her eyes at Celeste’s advice? Far too many. It was almost humorous now that she’d do just about anything for it. To be given some sense of direction that felt right. Maybe Deirdre’s piercing scream and throwing her out wouldn’t have stung as much if she still had that same safe haven to return to. There was nothing she could do that would have made Celeste turn her away. She still couldn’t help but feel a sense of righteousness here. How could she be tossed aside for someone who literally had a torture bunker in their home? Having Kaden there grounded her in a different way. He was just as appalled as she was by the whole situation. By what Lydia did to those people. By what she did to her. Even now, in the wake of what happened, he was nudging her shoulder without hesitation and she couldn’t recall such an easy gesture between them before. He showed up for her in more ways than she could have expected and maybe that was enough. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t owe you shit. Doesn’t change the fact I’d want to be here if you needed me anyway.” 

It was obvious to her that he was still struggling with something that maybe she’d never be able to understand, but all she could do now was be here with him. Ariana wouldn’t push him, not today. Not when she already felt exhausted during a time of month she usually felt energized and rejuvenated. Even how much more comfortable he seemed with her as of late and how he saved her the other night, she had to believe he was going through some sort of internal struggle that only Celeste could understand. She stared ahead at the tree, right now they could both use her wisdom. “That’s a whole ass mood. Which is probably obvious given the mess I made with the leanan-sidhe. Which, I’ll be honest, still has me shaken up.” She picked apart at the leaf in her hands, creating little confetti like pieces around the ground in front of her. “I know you’re right. She had to make a lot of difficult choices. She just somehow made a way of making them look easy. Like she just naturally knew the way. Even when we had to pack our bags on a whim in the middle of the night and hit the road because her parents got a lead on us, it always seemed like she knew exactly what she was doing. Exactly where we were going. Maybe being together was part of that.” 

Her mind lingered wistfully on late night car rides. How Celeste would always give her cash and she’d load up on drinks and snacks for them. She remembered how much Celeste loved oatmeal creme pies and vanilla iced coffee no matter the weather. She remembered the way she could barely see the road ahead over the dashboard and what she could see seemed so dark, yet she always remained calm. Ariana knew she had to be scared, too. There was no way she couldn’t have been. They had been on the run after all. She’d been younger than Ariana was at the time, but somehow managed to put on a brave face for her sake. It was something she’d never stop being grateful for and still wished she told her that more. “I did. I should have told her that more.” She sighed and grabbed another leaf, eyes still locked ahead on her tree. The idea of completely writing off Deirdre with a simple “fuck her” wasn’t something that came easily. She’d been so kind before and now she just didn’t understand how what she’d done had been so wrong. How Deirdre could possibly stand behind someone who kept humans in her basement to abuse, torture, and eat. There was no way that was the only way and she had to think Deirdre knew that. Still, the words fae’s property rang in her mind. She shuddered slightly and said, “I wish it was that easy. To say fuck them and move on like none of it ever mattered-- But it did matter. You can’t just stop caring about someone at the drop of a hat.” 

“Well, then. Noted,” Kaden said. Even if he was sure he was the one with a debt to pay in this situation. Still. “But you should erase that word from your vocabulary, alright?” His tone was light, joking. Even if it didn’t feel like a joke just yet. Not this soon. It was funny, he’d wanted to be alone out here for a while but he was more and more glad that he wasn’t. Just hearing another heartbeat, it was comforting. Something about the steady rhythm along with the sound of the wind picking through the branches it just felt better. Maybe it didn’t answer any of his questions, but it was better. Maybe that was all he could ask for. 

“I mean, it’s been two whole days since--” Kaden didn’t need to spell it out. “And this, this is a big fucking situation. You weren’t ready for what you walked into. It’s not your fault. I wouldn’t have done much better.” In fact, if she hadn’t reminded him what they were up against, he was two steps from barging down Lydia’s door and taking care of this himself. And it would have fared about as well as her attempt at that, surely. He took the finger nail on his thumb, dug it into the side of his wrist. They had to fix this. Not today. But he had to try to right the wrongs there. He didn’t know how yet but soon. 

“I think her motivation had something to do with why it looked easy. If I had to guess.” Making decisions to protect someone else? It was always easier. Always. If Blanche was in trouble, for example? His choices were easy. Do whatever it took to help her. Kaden had no doubt that Celeste felt the same. When put up against a wall, there was no time for second guessing. You lept and hoped it was the right choice. Maybe it was something the two of them had taken from hunting, come to think of it. Not that he could ask. “And you didn’t have to tell her. With how close you were? She knew.” He sighed right along with her. He damn well understood what she was saying and he was confronted with his tendency to push away anyone who even so much as implied rejecting him before they had a chance. “I know. I really fucking know.” It was half of why keeping people at arm’s length was easier. It hurt less in the long run. For so many reasons. But hell, he definitely understood. It was part of why he was in that fucking clearing at all. “I’m sorry. I can’t make them understand what they gave up. But they… I mean it’s their loss, Ari. I know it feels like yours but in the end…” His words trailed off again and he found himself scuffin his boot back and forth in the dirt. “It’s their loss if they rejected you.”

“Oh, right,” Ariana said somewhat sheepishly. Watching her words hadn’t felt necessary around Kaden. He was safe. The other night had only proved it. “Thankfully, I have a feeling that even if you could use those words against me, you wouldn’t.” Unless there was some magic way to make her stay out of trouble. As it stood, trouble was all but unavoidable in White Crest even if one didn’t have a knack for it. She’d need to be smarter about her words though. They had put both of them in danger and they were hardly out of the clear just yet. The thought of putting him or anyone else she loved in danger again made her feel a small rush of panic that she quickly quieted. Right now, right here-- this was a safe place. The smell of dying plants and Kaden’s hair products reminded her of that. There was much left to figure out, but right now, they could share this moment with Celeste in a sense. 

“It is,” Ariana breathed as she looked down at her hands momentarily. They felt the need to keep busy somehow as if that could stop the anger and heartache that made itself at home inside her body and mind. “I wasn’t, but you told me that forever ago. I can’t help but think that if I let Athena take care of this from the start that Sammy would still be alive. I know there’s no changing it now. I do. And I know at the end of the day, it’s Lydia’s fault. I just feel… honestly, kind of fucking stupid. I wanted so badly for there to be a way to save him that didn’t involve killing anyone. I just don’t think that exists. Lydia isn’t bad because of what she is, but what she chooses to do with all while feeling no remorse is just--” She took in a huff of air to steady herself again. She knew her voice was shaking and she cared little to hide it. There was no need to. Not from Kaden. “I don’t think I can be the one to kill her, but I want to help. I want to get those people out of there. Whoever they are, there’s no way they deserve what she’s putting them through.” 

There was no denying that Kaden made sense. Ariana knew that feeling all too well. It came into play when that karkinoid had found her and Blanche on the beach. When that weird vampire thing paralyzed Kaden before. When she’d seen Alcher lunge at Adam. There hadn’t been a doubt in her mind then that she needed to act and there wasn’t any doubt about those moments now. If Sammy had made it out of Lydia’s alive, she was sure she would have felt the same. And hadn’t she been able to fake confidence then? “You’re right,” she said simply, finally dragging her eyes away from the tree and back to him, “You kind of had that energy the other night. Don’t get me wrong, I was still panicked as fuck, but you being there-- I knew it’d be okay somehow.” She didn’t note that it wouldn’t have been okay if Rio hadn’t shown up. Kaden may have been okay with sacrificing himself, but the thought of losing him devastated her, she couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be if she was the one to kill him. She nodded slowly, tossing around some leaves instead of picking them apart, “I hope she did. I think I’ll wish I could say it even just one more time.” She’d prefer a hundred. Even a thousand, but that wasn’t how the world worked. “It does suck. I guess things are just like that sometimes.” His next words surprised her and left her eyes misty. He’d never been mean to her-- harsh when he was trying to keep her from diving into something way out of her depth, maybe, but never mean. This had been a certain level of caring he didn’t typically show. He’d shown understanding while she grieved, but even if it wasn’t direct, he was expressing just how much he cared. That he wouldn’t want to give her up, that he couldn’t just toss her to the side so easily. “Thanks,” she said through tears though these ones were more heartfelt than heartbreak, “That means a lot and I appreciate you saying it.” 

“You’re right.” Kaden cracked a small smile. “One of the only word bindings Regan and I have? That we can’t promise each other anything. So you’re right. I think your choices say more about you than not. Wouldn’t want to take that away.” He tried to ignore the weight he felt fall down onto his chest just thinking about Regan. Things were better. Marginally. Maybe. Putain, he still couldn’t think about her much without feeling like a failure in so many ways. And she was friends with Lydia, wasn’t she? So much for pushing that weight aside, it decided to settle in. 

“Maybe. But if she’s made it this long, there’s no way any single warden is taking her down.” Especially not one that was still a kid. Not without a lot of collateral damage. Kaden understood the anger she felt, though, the desperation to help. He felt it, too. “I get it. Wanting to fight this. Fight her. After what you told me,” he shook his head, “I would have done the same. Maybe stupider.” It was probably why he cared about her so fucking much. Even if she was a werewolf, the very thing he was meant to rid the world of, her desire to keep people safe from harm, he recognized it. And he knew she meant it wholeheartedly. He looked over at her as she spoke and it struck him that the werewolf sitting next to him might be a better person than he was. It caught him so off guard he almost forgot to respond. “Then we’ll make sure they get out alive. Every one of them is worth more than five of her anyway. We’ll get them out. As much as I hate this word now, promise.” He had no fucking clue how. But they’d fix this. Another for his list.

His brow furrowed a bit at her comment. Huh. She had a point. Kaden hadn’t considered it much. Not really. He barely thought out there, just acted and reacted. He had a million questions, plenty of doubts, but his goal was clear. Almost as clear as it used to be nearly a year ago when he hunted. The singularity was simple. It just wasn’t what he was trained to do. Not even slightly. It struck a chord of guilt through him. But looking at Ari quelled any doubt that he made the right decision. “I-- if I hurt you, Morgan told me she’d bite me.” Putain, he wasn’t sure why he told her that. But he did have a point. “Not that she-- It’s not because of that. That’s not why I--” Fuck, this sounded bad. He had to try again. Deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is. If I had hurt you or, fuck, worse, I--” He felt his words catch in his throat. “I-- I’d have asked her to. I think. Or just-- I don’t know. I wasn’t going to hurt you out there. I couldn’t. Not after… I wouldn’t let that happen.” He looked down at his shoes again, tried digging a new divot with his heel. “So yeah. I-- you’re safe with me. As much as you can be. I… I mean, we’re both lucky Rio showed up. And came prepared.” More prepared than he was for the situation. He had to give the kid credit. “You don’t have to thank me. Really. I try not to say shit I don’t mean either so,” he said, trailing off his sentence with a shrug. 

Ariana knew she had been right. There was no way Kaden would ever use anything against her to hurt her. How they’d gotten to this point was still a bit of a mystery, but she wouldn’t change a thing. “I like that, that you both want each other to have a choice in things. Free will is important.” The sentiment was only more cemented after what happened at the start of the full moon. Her free will had been ripped from her in such a nearly devastating fashion. It was a reminder to be better. Be smarter. 

“I wouldn’t let Athena go in alone. I won’t let her go in alone,” Ariana said firmly. As sure of herself as Athena was, the thought of her being hurt or worse made her sick with worry. Losing Athena wasn’t an option though she didn’t want to ponder the why of that too deeply in this moment. Instead, she focused on what Kaden said next and laughed a bit. “I guess we’re more fight than brains, huh?” It was something they shared, a willingness to jump in the deep end if it meant keeping others safe. She imagined some of what they shared made it easier for him to see past everything he’d been taught and see her for she was. Some part of her knew he was all the better for it. Not just because he knew Celeste, but because he knew her. He made her want to be better, too. In light of Deirdre throwing her out for choosing to save a human at the risk of a fae, it was a nice reminder that everything she tried to be and embrace wasn’t for not. That there was a middle ground to be found. It’d take more than her to build it, that better world, but it was all one brick at a time. As much as she wanted there to be a better way, someone like Lydia wasn’t going to change her ways. The only thing that would follow her was harm and if she had a way to save the innocent people she kept locked in her basement, she had to act. “Just don’t make that promise to an actual fae. We’re going to save them. It’s not going to be easy, but we will.” 

The way he stumbled over his words as he spoke left her with a somewhat amused smile on her face to replace the happier tears that had been there just moments before. Ariana placed a hand on his shoulder, knowing it’d be more welcome now than it would have been in the past. “Chill, Kaden. I know you didn’t save my ass out there because Morgan said she’d bite you if you hurt me. I know the not hurting me was because you didn’t want to hurt me. That choice was yours and well, it means a lot to me. I know I’m safe with you… or as safe as anyone can be in this town. But hey, anyone that wants to fuck with us has to fight a hunter and a werewolf so.” Even from beyond, Celeste was helping in a way. It wasn’t the same. Nothing ever could be. But she brought them together and she admittedly felt much better than she had when she first arrived here. “I know we both tried to make him leave, but I’m glad he didn’t. He’s really coming into his own. I think moving out of his parents’ house has done a lot of good for him. He’s learning to be a hunter in his own way and decide what it means for him. Plus, that punch was awesome. He saved us both.” Kaden more literally, but Ariana would have been crushed if Kaden died, especially at her hand. She shook her head as he shrugged off her thanks. “I know you don’t. I just-- I feel better than I did before I got here. I’m glad you showed up.” That he kept showing up. For her. For others. It was a nice reminder that for all she lost, she still had so much to live and fight for. 

Her hand on his shoulder felt like a shot of electricity in a way, sending his hunter senses on alert. Kaden exhaled, relaxed, let it be something different. Just like Regan’s freezing skin shifted from something alarming to comforting, he’d have to find a way to let this settle in, too. Redefine what it meant from her. He hoped he hadn’t jumped. He didn’t mean to. In fact, it brought a relieved smile to his face, that she understood. Leave it to the teenager to cut through the crap and get right down to it. “Thanks. Guess you’re right. Didn’t expect that to be a team up any time soon.” Of course, she was used to it, surely. Had to be strange, growing up and bridging that gap. For both her and Celeste. He found himself again wishing he could ask his friend the thousands of questions running through his head. His head tilted as he caught some of her sister’s words. He’s learning to be a hunter in his own way and decide what it means for him. An odd feeling swelled up in him. Hard to name. Pride, maybe? Shit, he didn’t know. If it was that, not that he earned that feeling really, for which of the two of them, Rio or Ari, he didn’t know either. All he knew was that sounded so much like Celeste. So much like what she’d told him. He sniffed back the tears pricking at the sides of his eyes as he felt how much she was still alive right then. “Yeah I guess so. I can’t believe you think that punch was awesome. Considering,” he said, nudging her again, a smile creeping back onto his face. For how much he’d wanted to be alone with his thoughts before coming here, he was surprised at how much nicer this was. With a werewolf of all people. “I’m glad I showed up, too.”

[first-son-of-finwe]

So this is my “leaving the fold” essay, which I mentioned some time ago. I wrote this mostly for myself because writing things down always helps me make sense of them, but quite a few people expressed interest in it, so here it is. 

I was raised as quite a strict Orthodox Christian, and the religion is a huge part of my mum’s life. This is mostly my experience of its ideas and processes, and how and why I ultimately decided to leave. It’s a bit rambling, all over the place and very long, but I kinda wanted to post it somewhere, so 🤷

TW for mentions of abortion, alcoholism and general conflict.

When I was twelve or thirteen, my parents and I set off on one of our regular trips to Russia. We used to do this every year before time and money became restricted, and one of our compulsory stops was always a large, sprawling monastery on the outskirts of the city of Nizhny Novgorod.

It’s a place of smiling nuns but very strict rules, where God forms a part of every sentence and church is mandatory for both mornings and evenings. It’s a place of communal meals, harvesting vegetables and milking cows, ringing bells, and lots and lots of praying. For me, it was a taste of pure rural life. I loved running through the fields, swimming in the pond and helping out with the manual tasks of running a communal settlement. I gasped in delight when I saw the lone horse in the field. Deep down I was never meant to be a city kid, and being at the monastery fuelled my dream of living the simple life.

But the fact that we were there purely for religious reasons? That was only an afterthought. An obligatory thing I had to go along with, because the adults expected it. Perhaps I tried to feel the same spirituality they seemed to experience, but I never quite got there.

I put on the headscarf, held the candle, wrote the names of my loved ones on prayer notes for the living. I bowed to the icons, made the sign of the cross when everyone else did. But I never truly connected.

One year on the day of a particularly significant celebration, a huge icon was carried over a horde of kneeling worshippers, and my mum told me to kneel down and pray for my dad to recover from his alcoholism. And so I did.

This is something I’d been praying for for a long time. It’s something I was told to pray for at every holy site, and before every relic. And no, he’s never quit drinking.

But I already knew that he wouldn’t, even as I knelt, closed my eyes and begged whichever saint was on that icon to help my dad quit drinking. I simply knew that it didn’t work that way.

I knew it the same way I knew that Santa wasn’t real. Every child seems to have experienced a shock-horror moment upon learning that they’d been deceived, but I recognised him for what he was right from the start - a story. For someone who’s always thrown themselves wholeheartedly into stories and fantasy, I’ve always had a very clear distinction between fact and fiction - though I’ve also not been so close-minded as to think that there isn’t a grey area in between.

No matter how hard I tried to convince myself, I don’t think I ever truly believed in their version of what was supposed to be happening.

But I think my moving away from Orthodoxy truly began the day I heard my mum on the phone to her friend, who was at the beginning of a difficult pregnancy and was considering an abortion. She and her husband were on different pages with regards to this, though I don’t quite remember who wanted what. My mother’s advice was this: “Well you should really listen to your husband, because you know that a husband’s word is God’s word.”

Even being the believer that I was then, my immediate reaction was complete shock, followed by a thought process that went something like “Are you joking?? SERIOUSLY?”

And of course, it was hard not to think of my own father in his worst moments of drunkenness. So it seems “God’s word” is actually a whole lot of slurred, barely comprehensible nonsense occasionally sprinkled with some insults. That’s really the logic we’re going with here? And beyond that, how can you hand such a deeply personal decision to someone else??

When I went away to university for three years and spent considerable chunks of time away from my mother’s influence, my skepticism only deepened with every day. I couldn’t reconcile the science-driven environment I saw around me with the ideas being propounded in church. Sincerely believing in the Adam and Eve story, in this day and age? It didn’t compute.

Having said that, I would certainly not call myself an atheist even now. I think it is just as presumptuous to assume your absolute knowledge of the infinite universe and declare it contains nothing, as it is to declare that your religion is the only correct one. I find many things about the Christian God to be extremely convenient (just so happens to be an old white bearded man, oh fancy that), but I am certainly not convinced that there are no intelligent forces in the world, whatever shape they take. We are simply not in a position to know these things, and I’m okay with that. 

In turn, I treat anyone who claims to know them with intense suspicion.

Ultimately, leaving Orthodox Christianity was a long and painful process (I say ‘was’ in the past tense, but the truth is that it is still ongoing) filled with guilt, second-guessing, deliberate habit breaking and an extremely distressed and persistent mother. But my reasons for it boil down to four key things.

Their ideas did not match my ideas. I will never believe that women are obliged to be submissive to men. I will never believe that being gay (or in any way not straight) is a sin. I will never believe that Eastern Orthodoxy is the one true faith among all the other hundreds and thousands of faiths that exist on this planet. Living with your partner without being married is not a sin. Eating some chicken on a lent day is not a sin. A woman on her period is not “unclean.” Their ideas of good and bad, right and wrong seemed so incredibly outdated and arbitrary that it became hard to take anything they said seriously. And I felt so uncomfortable standing there, surrounded by people who I knew believed in all of this wholeheartedly.

Despite the religion branding itself as ‘Christian’, I don’t think I’ve ever heard any of the priests or worshippers talk about helping others. It is not on the agenda. People walk into church and think that because they’ve said their prayers, abstained from meat and dairy and then said their prayers some more, they’re now good people. But what have they done to make anyone’s life better? Who have they helped? Who have they listened to, cared for, understood? It’s not about that. It’s about making yourself feel good because you recited the Lord’s Prayer before eating your lunch.

The process of participating is extremely rigid, and trying to remember all those rules and traditions is honestly just stressful. Which hand do I kiss? How many times do I have to make the sign of the cross before approaching that super special icon? Do I have to touch the floor, or is that optional? Oh, everyone is kneeling...I guess I should kneel too. Once, I accidentally addressed the Archbishop as ‘Father’ and got a slew of disapproving looks from everyone around me. I think perhaps people find a certain kind of comfort and stability in routine, but having one imposed on you when you’re constantly unsure of the rules is not a pleasant experience.

Sometimes there is a very thin line between a religion and a cult, and Orthodoxy is toeing it a little too closely for comfort. I’ve seen it overpower people’s rational thinking and tap into their most powerful emotions in a way that’s honestly quite frightening.

The first step to leaving was progressively going to church less and less. I’d only ever really gone because my mum demanded it, but now, I put up a bit more resistance. I got screamed and yelled and cried at, and at first, of course I gave in. But little by little, I began to get the message across that I was simply not interested anymore.

Then, I deliberately made the choice to break certain habits. We always faced a row of icons on the wall and made a sign of the cross before leaving the house, and coming back in. It was such an ingrained habit that I did it automatically, and for the first few months, I had to physically catch myself in order to stop. That came with its own sense of guilt and hesitancy, and with the feeling that hey, now God is mad at you - hope a brick doesn’t fall on your head when you’re out there without his blessing.

The next step was removing the cross I’d worn around my neck ever since I’d been christened as a baby. Even now I can’t not wear something around my neck, so I have a little key necklace there in its place. Having a bare neck just looks too weird to me.

That cross came off and went back on at least three times. Each time I’d be persuaded, guilted, given the simple but effective phrase of “just do it for me.” I’ve removed it for what I hope will be the last time, and “just do it for me” won’t cut it anymore. If I converted to Islam tomorrow, would it be okay for me to ask someone to wear a hijab “for me”, even though they don’t share my faith? No, it wouldn’t. Religion and expression of religion is a personal choice, and not something you can strong-arm your adult children into.

Now, I’m in a fairly comfortable place where I’ve shed most of that initial guilt and am happy with my choices. I’ve even been back into church a couple of times just to meet a family member, only catching the end of the service - and even then, I’ve been reminded of exactly why I left. My mindset is simply too far removed to find any spiritual value in Orthodoxy.

Does my mother still try to get me into church? Yes. Are the attempts extremely mild and infrequent, compared to what they used to be? Yes. On one hand, I’d like to have a deep conversation with her and explain all the reasons why I have no interest in the religion anymore, but on the other hand, I know it’ll likely make her extremely upset.

Perhaps it’s better to just let it be.

[taekemeaway]

info: yoonkook, teen+, hanahaki/soulmate au genre: angst, romance | word ct: 9k warnings: blood, violence, descriptions of hanahaki related symptoms, alcohol abuse, self destruction summary: jeongguk knew that his time was limited, hanahaki didn’t wait for anyone or anything. soon he would stop breathing, soon a bouquet of perfect white roses would pierce through flesh and bone, reaching for the one thing it could not have. his days were counted in bloody petals and he was slowly running out.

or: a beauty and the beast inspired hanahaki au where both yoongi and jeongguk are the Beast

cross posted on ao3

Each and every single person on the planet is born with a dormant flower on their wrist. The flower only blooms once you meet your soulmate and will slowly die the longer you and your soulmate are apart. It will be revived if you return to your soulmate before it dies. The only known exception to this rule is when a child meets their soulmate their flower doesn’t start to die until their 18th birthday.

But if you have your flower removed before it dies you save yourself from a far more gruesome fate.

Once the flower on your wrist dies there’s no way to revive it. When the last petal falls you contract Hanahaki, a typically fatal disease. Your lungs are filled to the brim with the flower that adorns your soulmates skin. If you do not find your soulmate and earn their love, the flowers inside of you will multiple until you choke on the petals and drown in your own blood.

Other than earning the heart of your soulmate there is no cure for Hanahaki.

When Jeongguk’s friends asked who his soulmate was, they never understood what he meant when he simply said,

“The moon.”

wait—wasn’t he supposed to fall in love with a person? Then he’d laugh—

“Who said that I didn’t?”

—because how else was he supposed to describe someone whose pull on his heart was stronger than a full moon’s pull on the violent waves? That question was far easier to answer.

He couldn’t,

and he didn’t want to.

Jeongguk met his soulmate by accident on a cold Autumn night. He was on his way home when something—someone—caught his eye. A kid with blonde hair sitting on an old tree stump with bloody knuckles and a black eye. Despite the distance, Jeongguk’s heart stopped when their eyes connected—maybe time did too. The world could’ve stopped turning and he wouldn’t have been phased because at that exact moment, the phrase “love at first sight” had never been more fitting.

Thinking back, Jeongguk didn’t even notice that the flower on his wrist had blossomed while they stood there gazing into each other’s eyes. He didn’t see how the petals reached out to the stranger like an old friend. All he could think about was how handsome he was, how he had never seen anything more beautiful. How his blond hair glowed underneath the light of the full moon, how his eyes swirled with passion and mystery. How for the first time in his life—Jeongguk knew exactly what he needed to do.

I need to know his name.

But it was the one thing he wouldn’t learn that night—

“Can I sit here?”

—and that was okay.

For a brief moment, or maybe it was an extended period of time, they remained in silence. A silence that deafened them. Neither of them said anything, but their eyes spoke volumes. Their souls screamed and their hearts soared. Their wrists stung in pain as the flowers that had since been dormant suddenly bloomed underneath the light of the full moon. Even though the white petals that reached out towards him were mesmerizing to watch Jeongguk couldn’t bear to tear his eyes away. The delicate way that his lips parted entranced him in a way that he didn’t fully understand.

“Are you just going to stare at me all night?”

Well—

He chewed on his lip nervously.

—probably?

Because, if Jeongguk was being perfectly honest, he was at a loss for words. What do you say when you’re looking at perfection? When perfection is gazing back at you, when their blossoming wrist means that all that perfection—is meant to be by your side? It was too much for Jeongguk to process, too much for him to wrap his head around.

Am I dreaming?

No, he wasn’t.

This is more than a dream.

This is fate.

And he was right.

Which is why Jeongguk still curses himself for never getting his name. He was too busy memorizing every inch of his soulmate, every imperfection that made him even more perfect. Even if he didn’t know his name, he knew how his eyebrows knit together in thought, how his nose scrunched up in frustration. The way his cheeks puffed out in annoyance—that was more important to Jeongguk than a name. No matter how much he wanted it because—

he vanished,

almost like he never existed to begin with.

Just like that—the moon had disappeared from his sky. The only trace of him was etched into Jeongguk’s skin, a warm summer flower that couldn’t dispel the chill he felt in his heart. Each day dragged into the next and he could only look at his wrist and sigh, wondering what happened to the boy with the white flower laced into his veins. Jeongguk would wait for him on that tree stump, hoping that Fate would be on his side for a second time.

It never was.

As he grew older, as he grew taller, as his memory of that night faded into wistful nostalgia, Jeongguk slipped haphazardly into complacency. He had completely forgotten that once he turned 18, once he was old enough, that perfect night underneath the moon would slowly begin to kill him. His life would be reduced to a handful of wilted petals, and when the last one fell—Hanahaki would take root in his lungs.

Hanahaki.

He felt his palms begin to sweat.

That—that’ll never happen to me.

Except it did, he just—

—refused to believe it.

No matter how many petals wilted, even though his once vibrant flower so full of life slowly died from neglect, he couldn’t accept it. Because how would he cure his affliction? How was he supposed to find someone he had met over ten years ago, a nameless face that disappeared into the night?

At that thought, he laughed bitterly.

I can’t.

The Jeongguk that met his soulmate was one brimming with warmth, he was comforting and kind. The Jeongguk that watched his flower die was an empty shell in comparison. He was angry and cynical, he drank too much and partied too loud. His friends became accessories to his antics and his parents worried themselves sick. At nights when alcohol clouded his judgement but freed his mind he often thought to himself as he gazed up at the moon,

Perhaps he only seemed perfect because I’m so—imperfect.

and in a way, he was right.

But in many more ways he was horribly wrong.

He only came to terms with it after his 21st birthday when a sharp pain in his wrist tore him from his dreams and threw him into a nightmare. Jeongguk screamed as the flower tattoo he had lived with for years finally died and turned into a grotesque scar. He cried as the fate he tried to will away dug its ridged claws into his throat. He held his injured soul to his chest because he couldn’t believe—couldn’t wrap his mind around how he let it get to this point.

A piece of him had died, a piece he would never get back. And as much as he wanted to blame his soulmate, his younger naïve self, he was the only one at fault. He did this to himself. He had signed his own death certificate, willingly and foolishly.

“Why didn’t you have it removed?”

His friends would ask,

“I don’t know.”

he'd return,

because clearly he had never thought of it.

But, they did pose a valid point—

Why didn’t I?

—why didn’t he?

It was a question he should’ve considered before it was too late. He just—he never imagined this could ever happen to him. How could the boy he met possibly kill him? How could his soulmate kill him so beautifully, so tragically? How could one perfect night that should’ve opened so many doors be the prelude to the end? Why did the idea of ripping out a piece of his soul repulse him more than dying slowly, painfully, with little to no hope of recovering?

Why did I do this to myself?

Whatever the answer was, it wouldn’t keep him alive. So,

Jeongguk spiralled,

and he spiralled hard.

The only companion to stay by his side—

Pop.

—was the bottom of a bottle.

But even drink would betray him in the end.

As his condition progressed, as perfect white petals crawled up his throat and restricted his every breath, he became more and more reckless. More destructive. Drugs, alcohol, sex, he would do anything to take his mind off his own fate. He destroyed his body with whatever he could get his hands on, or he coaxed others into doing it for him. His veins coarsed with toxic chemicals and overwhelming regret, his skin marred with cuts and bruises. He was a broken man. If he continued down the path he had set his sights on—he would kill himself long before Hanahaki would even get a chance.

Love couldn’t destroy him if he destroyed himself.

He thought—

Maybe that’s how it should be.

He should’ve learned by now that no matter what he has planned,

ultimately it was fate that held the cards.

And usually in the most ironic way possible.

Clair de Lune,

He scoffed as he looked up at the neon blue sign.

I really am a masochist.

Stepping inside the darkened bar, Jeongguk felt oddly at home. Even though he had never been there before, his legs carried him to the counter almost subconsciously. Without realizing it he was sitting at the bar with a gin and tonic placed neatly in front of him. In the past, that would’ve worried him. But at some point in Jeongguk’s spiralling decent it became his routine. He accepted it mostly because he wouldn’t remember it within a few minutes. Soon he would forget everything except his own name, which was perhaps the one thing he wanted permanently erased from his memory.

His own identity.

At some point in the night, Jeongguk’s meager control over his aggression slipped from his grasp. It was almost like the flip of a switch, one second he was calm and collected, content to wallow in his own misery, then he suddenly had the neck of a bottle of beer in his hand. He couldn’t remember what set him off, it could’ve been nothing but a sideways glance. The only thing he knew for certain was that no matter how many times he willingly hurt others it would never compare to how he hurt himself. It was only when everything went black that he finally felt any sort of relief.

“Hey, wake up.”

The voice that pulled Jeongguk from his alcohol induced haze was probably relatively calm and quiet, but it tore through his skull like a jagged knife. His head was splitting, his eyes throbbing, his jaw, clenched too tight, was practically locked in place. It was almost as if his mind was a dam and his thoughts were the rushing water threatening to spill past. The pressure—it was almost unbearable.

Then that water covered him head to toe.

“What the fuck?” Jeongguk sputtered, suddenly far more alert and aware.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

The stranger snorted quietly. “This is coming from the punk who broke a chair against a wall and sucker punched me in the face? That’s fucking rich.”

Jeongguk’s head pulsated as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing.

Did I do that?

He cracked open his eyes and noticed the cuts up his forearm, they were superficial at best but the splinters of wood embedded in his palms supported the stranger’s story. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe him, just sometimes he was surprised at how violent he could get while drunk.

“I should really be calling the cops.” The stranger sighed. “You trashed my bar and probably cost me about ten days worth of sales in damages alone. Nevermind that I had to close down three hours early because your rowdy ass wasn’t leaving.”

Stiffening at the man’s tone, Jeongguk felt some resistance. He had only then realized that he was sitting against a wall, his wrist handcuffed to a safety rail circling the bar.

He was trapped.

And he didn’t like it one bit.

“Let me go.” Jeongguk gritted out but received no response. “Uncuff me you bastard, this is fucking kidnapping!”

“Kidnapping? Don’t flatter yourself, I’m only protecting myself. You really don’t like people telling you what to do.” He replied with a smug grin. “You see this shiner?”

He pointed to the black and blue bruise reaching from his chin all the way up his jaw.

“This is what you did when I refused to pour you another drink. And this one here?”

He lifted his shirt and exposed a shallow cut to his ribcage.

“I was trying to take your keys when you pulled a knife on me.” He dropped his shirt. “So do you see what sort of predicament you’re in now? Assault, destruction of property, I could easily get your punk ass arrested for this and a lot more. I may run a shitty bar, but it wasn’t this bad until you showed up.”

Pointedly ignoring the carnage around him, Jeongguk simply glared at the stranger.

“Then why don’t you? Call them, see if I care.”

He snorted like Jeongguk had said something funny.

“Do you honestly believe that if I was going to call the cops I wouldn’t have done it by now?” He laughed. “Boy, you’ve been out cold for two hours. You should be thanking me that you didn’t wake up in a drunk tank.”

“Thanking you?” Jeongguk questioned in disbelief. “I don’t care who you are or what your game is but if you don’t let me go I swear I’ll—”

A perfect white petal inching its way up his throat interrupted him.

Fuck.

There was coughing,

and a lot of blood.

But then—

“Shit, not again, hold still.”

—the stranger was being kind to him?

“I’ve never seen someone so young have Hanahaki so bad.” He shook his head. “Who the fuck burned you kid?”

Jeongguk didn’t mean to, but he laughed.

“The moon.”

The stranger didn’t laugh though.

Because it wasn’t funny.

“Damn.” He muttered, pressing his knuckle to his mouth. “Can’t say I blame you for drowning yourself in shitty booze.”

Thanks.

“But that doesn’t mean that I can just let you get away with trashing my bar.” He sighed. “My barback quit because you freaked him out so bad.”

What do you want me to do about that?

“I was thinking that I forgive and forget all of the broken furniture and hundreds of dollars in profit that I lost if, and only if, you work for me for the next couple of weeks.”

Are you fucking shitting me. I’m dying and this asshole wants me to work for him?

“Sound fair?”

No, not really.

“Yeah, whatever.”

So the stranger smiled.

And Jeongguk had to admit—

“Great.”

—he was beautiful,

“I’m Yoongi, by the way.”

his name was too,

“I’m Jeongguk.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Kook. Let’s get you all patched up.”

and his voice was, in a word,

Perfect.

A word that he used to cherish, a word he used to associate with the one person who ruined him completely.

God he forgot how much he hated that word.

But when it came to defining Yoongi,

“Thanks.”

he didn’t mind it so much.

Jeongguk watched him as he carefully dressed his wounds. He didn’t even flinch as Yoongi pulled out slivers of wood and shards of glass from his palms. Honestly, he wouldn’t have noticed if Yoongi hadn’t been apologizing every five seconds for hurting him. By that point—he was practically numb. Pain was an old friend, one he preferred the company of. Pain was easy, pain was something he understood.

But when it came to Yoongi, with scarred knuckles and brash tattoos, he didn’t have a clue.

He had no idea why watching him wrap gauze around his injured hands made him feel something he hadn’t felt in a long while.

Something he had lost the name for.

In the time it took the alcohol to leave Jeongguk’s system, he was already the new barback for Clair de Lune. Yoongi tossed him a black shirt and an apron, put his number in his phone, and got all the paperwork started. All while Jeongguk stood there in complete and utter silence.

“No drinking on the job, you hear me?”

Jeongguk went rigid.

What?

How was he expected to stay sober?

He honestly couldn’t remember what being sober felt like.

But—

“Okay.”

—he agreed to Yoongi’s terms.

Even if he was sure he would disappoint him in the end.

Wait—

—why do I care?

“Alright, that’s everything.” Yoongi smiled. “I expect you back here in 13 hours. You better head home and go right to bed because being hungover isn’t going to make the night any easier for you.”

For a moment, Jeongguk didn’t move.

He didn’t say anything.

He just looked at the clothes in his hands and the dead flower on his wrist.

But then he whispered,

“Do you honestly expect me to come back?”

Then, for whatever reason—

Thump.

—Yoongi grinned.

Thump.

“Yeah, I do.”

Thump.

And Jeongguk almost smiled back.

Thump.

Almost.

Thump.

He was back at his apartment just as the sun was coming up over the horizon feeling—confused? Uneasy? He couldn’t name the emotion that broke through his crippling migraine, he only knew that it was all he could think about. What was it about Yoongi that didn’t make him lash out angrily? If anyone else had bossed him around like that he would’ve easily gotten into a fight.

“You’re going to get yourself killed, Kook!”

Namjoon used to try and curb his behavior, to fix him. Something that Jeongguk should’ve taken to heart instead of using to further fuel his rage. Each and every person who reached out to him, who even attempted to steer him back towards a better path, they were quickly cut out of his life. Usually by his own doing. When he was drunk it feared a darkness in him he never knew he possessed. He burned bridges with violence and hatred, refusing to let anyone in close long enough to help him. Because he didn’t want their help.

So why did he accept Yoongi’s? Why was he different?

Why?

I don’t know.

He didn’t like not knowing.

He hated how Yoongi didn’t make sense.

I stabbed him, I destroyed his bar!

He clenched his fist.

Why didn’t he have me arrested?

He punched the wall.

I don’t know.

But I need to.

For hours he stood at the train station, a duffel over his shoulder and a ticket held ticket in his bandaged hand. He couldn’t stop thinking about Yoongi, how he selflessly took care of him, how he knelt beside someone who had destroyed the things he cared about and still—

“Who the fuck burned you kid?”

cared about him as well?

Someone long past repair?

Yoongi didn’t make sense to Jeongguk.

But he needed to make sense of him.

“Do you honestly expect me to come back?”

He had to so he could sleep at night.

“Yeah, I do.”

And that’s why he showed up for his first shift.

To try and solve the mystery of Yoongi.

“Hey.”

Jeongguk mumbled.

“Hey.”

Yoongi smirked.

Silence.

“Are you just going to stand there all night? Or are you going to get to work?”

Jeongguk blushed.

“Shut up.”

Working for Yoongi was—a change of pace to say the least. It was such an immediate contrast to the life Jeongguk had been living, he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. He wasn’t used to anyone having any sort of expectations of him anymore. Yoongi did, for whatever reason. Jeongguk knew deep down that it wouldn’t be long before he gave up on him like everyone else, yet that didn’t stop him from enjoying it while he could.

Jeongguk came into work for the first three days completely sober, an astonishing feat for him. He smiled at customers, talked to his coworkers, everything was fine. Then he started coughing up more and more flowers at work, those sickly white petals that he hated so much. People would cast those pitying glances at him, offer reassuring words, and it made his stomach churn. It reminded him that no matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t going to escape Hanahaki.

For once,

just once,

he wanted to be normal.

Normal.

He wanted to be normal,

he wanted to have a job,

he wanted to forget,

but he couldn’t.

Hanahaki would never let him forget.

Each time he felt the weight lessen,

when he felt like he could breathe again,

Hanahaki tightened its grip on his soul.

What’s the point?

The point of being normal—

Normal.

—if it was all a lie?

The answer was simple.

There isn’t one.

So he went back to drinking.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

When Jeongguk practically stumbled over the threshold two hours after his shift started, his apron tied sloppily around his waist, his fate was sealed. He saw Yoongi at the bar, his fist clenched tightly around a rag and his jaw set in anger. After excusing himself from a discussion at the bar, he slammed the rag down on a table as he crossed the room, fury blazing in his eyes. Jeongguk should’ve been afraid, and maybe he was, but he didn’t show it. Even as Yoongi took him by the arm and dragged him out back to rip him a new one he didn’t waver.

Maybe because he knew it was what he deserved.

“What the hell is this?” Yoongi questioned, gesturing to Jeongguk’s haggard appearance. “Four days in and you’re already coming into work drunk two hours late? That’s all you can handle?”

He shrugged.

“Fucking typical, I really shouldn’t be shocked at this point.”

He flinched.

“Go home, Jeongguk. I’m giving you tonight and tomorrow to sleep this off.”

He stiffened.

“When you come back on Friday you better not even think about pulling something like this again.”

Thump.

What?

At first he didn’t completely understand,

he fully expected Yoongi to fire him on the spot.

It made sense,

anyone else would.

But then he remembered,

Yoongi never made sense.

“I’m tacking on another week to our deal for this, just so you’re aware.”

Yoongi paused to light a cigarette.

“You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

Jeongguk was okay with that.

Thanks to Yoongi he was able to pull himself out of the rut of self destruction he had fallen into. At least for the most part. There were still nights when he was left with nothing except his own toxic thoughts and the allure of drink was almost too much to handle, but he did his best. On his days off he still made questionable decisions, met questionable people, did questionable things, it was better than nothing.

Yet it wasn’t enough for Yoongi. Somehow he always knew what Jeongguk got up to in his off time, almost like he could smell it on him. One look and he knew everything, he read Jeongguk like an open book. How he hated that disapproving look of his, how he could lecture Jeongguk with nothing but a glance. It—it made Jeongguk feel uneasy in a way he couldn’t put his finger on. Like—like he cared what Yoongi thought of him.

That’s ridiculous.

He told himself.

There’s no way.

So why was that the only explanation that made sense?

Why did the idea of someone caring about him,

someone who had absolutely no reason to,

tie his stomach into knots?

I have no idea,

But he had to admit—

it’s kind of nice.

Even if he knew it wasn’t going to last.

Because,

like most everything else in his life,

time was not on his side.

The three weeks passed by quicker than he thought possible.

He was standing behind the bar buffing some glasses when he suddenly realized—

Today is my last day.

—and the thought alone made his stomach sink like a rock.

He didn’t want to go back to how things were, he really didn’t. He didn’t want to drift from moment to moment, hating himself and everyone around him. He didn’t want to wake up in someone else’s bed and have no idea what their name was. He didn’t want to hurt others to help ease the pain he was causing himself. He didn’t want to let anger and frustration dictate his every action. He didn’t want to use alcohol and hatred as a tool to numb his senses and forget his fate.

And, most importantly,

he didn’t want to go back to a life without Yoongi in it.

That was what terrified him most.

More terrifying than the bloodied flowers in his lungs.

But Yoongi never said anything.

Through the entire shift they continued on like it was just an ordinary day. Yoongi did his job, Jeongguk did his, neither of them brought up the deal that kept him at Clair de Lune in the first place. Maybe Yoongi didn’t know, or maybe he had forgotten. But somehow Jeongguk knew that wasn’t the case because when they were done for the night Yoongi cast Jeongguk a knowing look and said plainly,

“See you tomorrow, kid.”

Thump.

Jeongguk didn’t bother to correct him.

Even though he would say the same thing for several weeks after,

Jeongguk never corrected him.

If Yoongi was going to let him come back, he would do so gladly.

Because even though he was coughing up flowers more frequently,

when he was with Yoongi,

it didn’t phase him nearly as much.

He wasn’t afraid of death,

if life was worth living.

So for the first time in forever,

he decided to let someone else in.

And,

surprisingly,

Yoongi became his closest friend.

But Jeongguk never realized how much he appreciated what Yoongi did for him. He didn’t realize that he would do almost anything for Yoongi because of one simple fact,

he gave him a chance.

Because based on what he saw from Yoongi,

he didn’t take a chance on just anyone.

“That’s it, I’m cutting you off.” Yoongi stated simply to a customer.

“You’ve had enough.”

Unfortunately the drunk didn’t agree.

“I’ll tell you when I’ve had ‘nough.”

Yoongi crossed his arms. “That’s not how things work around here.”

“‘o th’ fuck gave you th’ right?”

“Me.”

He clarified angrily.

“This is my bar, asshole. Got a problem with it? The doors right there, it’s bright red. I’m sure even you could find it ya fucking moron.”

Jeongguk was bussing a table when he heard Yoongi dealing with the drunk sitting at the bar, the only one left besides the two. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before, and for some reason it felt—personal. But not to Yoongi, to him. He didn’t like it when customers badmouthed his friend. Whoever they were, they’d been drinking for hours already and were only getting more belligerent as the night dragged on. He had spilled two of his drinks and the majority of the last beer he bought wound up down his shirt.

Obviously it was time for the man to go home.

So Yoongi dealt with him easily, cool, calm, collected. Not that Jeongguk expected anything less from someone who stared down bikers twice his size and didn’t even flinch. Clair de Lune was his territory, no one could touch him, and that pissed a lot of people off.

“Wha’ a fuckin’ bitch.” The drunk slurred after Yoongi left the bar to take a call. “‘o is he t’ tell me when I can or can’ drink? Does he know ‘o I am?”

Suddenly,

Jeongguk felt a very familiar rage build up inside of him,

for a very unfamiliar reason.

“Thinks he’s so fuckin’ special? I’ll sho’ ‘im.”

Jeongguk watched as the drunk stood up uneasily and leaned over the bar. After knocking over several bottles he wrapped his grimy hands around a Jack Daniel’s and popped the top off. The bottle was halfway to his mouth when he finally intervened.

“You really shouldn’t be doing that.” He started politely. “Not unless you’re planning on paying for it.”

“What’re ya gonna do about it?” The man taunted with a smug grin. “This’ll teach that lil’ bitch bartender t’ mess with someone his own size.”

Before Jeongguk could contemplate the most appropriate course of action, he had already punched the drunk right in the throat. Which he wanted to regret but couldn’t bring himself to. It sent the large man stumbling backwards, bourbon sputtering past his lips.

And he wasn’t happy.

“Th’ fuck!” He managed through gargled bursts, wiping off his mouth and struggling to catch his breath.

“Yer gonna regret tha’ ya lil’ punk!”

Without hesitating for even a second the drunk discarded the bottle and pulled a knife out of his jacket pocket. He pointed the blade right at Jeongguk with intent clear in his eyes. It should’ve scared him, but it didn’t. Despite the fact that the man in front of him was armed and heavily intoxicated, he didn’t waver. He stood strong because he knew there were far more frightening horrors in the world.

Himself included.

A drunk man with a knife was nothing to him.

When the man lunged at him, Jeongguk dodged easily. He had been in plenty of bar fights in his life, most of which he had thrown himself into without remembering why. It was how he coped. His adult years were marked with cuts and bruises, signed with alcohol and mistakes. He used his fists to say the things he was too terrified to admit to anyone, much less himself.

I don’t want to die.

Because maybe there was something left worth fighting for.

Something worth living for.

“What the hell is going on out here?”

Or someone.

“I’m Yoongi, by the way.”

He didn’t have a chance to respond, the drunk man used the small window that Yoongi unintentionally created to land a clean punch to Jeongguk’s jaw. While pain radiated through his skull it didn’t shake his resolve, it only fuelled his anger more. It stoked the flames that resided in Jeongguk’s soul, flames that had long since died out.

Waiting for a purpose again.

The second time the man tried to stab Jeongguk, he succeeded. Only because Jeongguk allowed him to. He met the blade halfway with his own hand, stopping it with flesh and bone. Courageously holding the sharp edge tight in his grasp. He didn’t move as the steel cut deep into his palm, as his own blood coated his hand and cascaded to the floor.

Drip…

Drip…

Drip…

“Wha’ the fuck?” The man shouted in disbelief. “What’re you—”

Whatever he had to say was silenced when Jeongguk’s forehead connected with his nose.

And he didn’t stop there.

With his grip still wrapped around the blade in his left hand he delivered blow after blow with his right. The deeper the knife cut into him, the deeper the bruises he left. He was practically blind with rage, the only thing he cared about was hurting this man. Even in his darkest days he had never been so angry, so furious, so violent. Maybe alcohol didn’t fuel his need to wreck havoc, maybe it subdued him.

It suddenly came to him that—

“Jeongguk!”

—he had no idea what he was capable of.

“That’s enough!”

He was unstoppable.

“Jeongguk! Enough!”

Until Yoongi pulled him kicking and screaming from his haze.

Blinking past the red cloud hovering over him, his fist raised to continue beating on the poor man, he saw what he had done.

There was blood,

Oh God…

there was blood everywhere.

And it all belonged to him.

“Yer fuckin’ crazy!” The drunk man all but whimpered in fright. “I’m gettin’ out of here!”

He released his grip on the blade,

Jeongguk didn’t.

The cold steel was almost calming.

As the man stumbled over his own two feet to get as far away from Jeongguk as possible,

he still had the knife in his hand.

“Jesus Christ, kid! Let go!”

Clang.

It clattered against the ground.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Yoongi asked, pulling Jeongguk aside and pressing a rag into his palm. “Who the fuck thinks that holding onto a sharp blade is a good idea?”

Jeongguk didn’t respond.

“Holy fuck—” Yoongi exasperated. “This is bad, you’re gonna need stitches kid.”

Silence.

“What got into you?” Yoongi continued to press. “I’ve never seen you like that. Even when you’re drunk you’re never that—that—”

Say it.

“Terrifying!”

Yoongi shook his head in disbelief.

“You were a completely different person!”

I know.

“There better be a good reason why you decided to punch the living daylights out of some drunk. We see dozens of those everyday and I can’t have you getting violent with everyone that walks in—”

“I didn’t like the way he talked to you.”

Yoongi paused,

his cold eyes softened.

“What the hell…” He mumbled, pulling another rag from his back pocket. “That wasn’t necessary, y’know that? I can handle myself just fine, Kook. And I don’t usually wind up worse than the other guy because I know not to grab onto sharp things!”

“I couldn’t stop myself.” Jeongguk admitted honestly. “I—I don’t know what came over me.”

Thump.

“If he knew the real you—”

Thump.

“Then he wouldn’t have said all those things.”

Yoongi cast his gaze towards the floor,

“Do you even know the real me?”

He questioned quietly.

Do I?

The question was simple,

but the answer was not.

Because Yoongi was a mystery,

Do I really know him?

one he was determined to solve.

So he decided to be honest.

“No.”

Thump.

“But I’d like to.”

Jeongguk could’ve sworn that he saw a ghost of a smile on Yoongi’s lips before he quickly turning away. It was a rare sight, a small window that closed too quickly. Despite knowing Yoongi for months, he rarely got a glimpse into who he really was. Yoongi kept the whole world at bay with sarcastic comments and harsh jokes. That’s how he liked it, being alone. He claimed that those who stayed by his side were either masochists or idiots.

“What does that make you?”

He had asked Jeongguk jokingly.

“Neither.”

When he had really wanted to answer,

“Both.”

because there was no place he would rather be.

That’s why Jeongguk spent all of his time at Clair de Lune. Whether he was working or not. Yoongi and his coworkers were the only ones who cared about him. His old friends had abandoned him long ago, his parents had given up on him, there wasn’t anywhere else for him. Even after getting sober he still spent most of his time in a bar.

He chuckled at the small irony.

Eventually, after working there for about half a year, Yoongi trusted Jeongguk enough to work behind the bar. Not just as a barback,

as a bartender.

“Don’t fuck this up, kid.”

Were his words of encouragement.

It made Jeongguk smile.

Partially because he trusted him,

mostly because he got to spend to spend more time with him.

He shadowed Yoongi for a couple of weeks, learning how to make drinks and how to deal with customers. While he usually managed to scare off all interested bartenders within a couple of days, Jeongguk stayed. Yoongi used to say to him in the most polite way possible that his people skills were shit,

and he was right.

The last time Jeongguk really tried to be personable and get along with others was well before the flower on his wrist withered and died. Everytime Yoongi would chastise him for being too blunt or for being rude, he’d look at his scarred skin and somehow manage to smile.

I wonder what Yoongi’s flower looks like?

He contemplated that almost daily.

Yoongi always wore long sleeves when he was at work and he never rolled them up. He almost made it a point to pull his sleeves down every other minute. Everything about Yoongi was a complete mystery. Even his own skin.

It only made Jeongguk want to know more.

Because he had already memorized every single inch of him, from his split eyebrow to the perfect shape of his lips. The way he could silence a room with nothing but a glance, how his nose scrunched up when he was dealing with a difficult customer. How sometimes Jeongguk would catch him gazing into a mirror almost as if he was afraid his own reflection would disappear.

Despite knowing all of that,

it wasn’t enough.

There was more to him,

much more,

and Jeongguk was determined learn it all.

No matter how long it took,

no matter how many times he coughed up blood,

how many times he choked on petals,

he would endure it because Yoongi was worth—

Everything.

—everything.

“If you have any questions feel free to ask me.” Yoongi offered on Jeongguk’s last day of training. “I’ll be here with you behind the bar at all times so there’s really no reason for you to worry.”

Thump.

“Thanks.” Jeongguk mumbled.

“What did I tell you about mumbling?”

Jeongguk blushed.

“Sorry.”

Yoongi grinned, patting Jeongguk on the back.

“No worries, you’re just really fun to pick on.”

Thump.

“It’s your fault for being so cute.”

Thump.

“Very funny.”

“It’s the truth.”

Thump.

I think—

Thump.

I might like Yoongi.

Thump.

That’s crazy right?

Thump.

How could I be so selfish?

Thump.

So stupid?

Thump.

Loving someone who could do so much better?

Thump.

When I’m going to die anyway?

“Whatever you say, Yoongi.”

“Those are some dangerous words.”

Thump.

“You better be careful what you say.”

Forget Hanahaki,

he’s going to be the death of me.

And just as that thought crossed his mind—

Oh no…

—he felt the flower in his chest try and claw its way towards sunlight.

He felt stems and leaves rake against his esophagus, felt petals soaked in his own blood rising like bile. But he put on a strong face for Yoongi. He didn’t want him to know how bad it was getting, how every day they spent together was another day closer to his violent end. Maybe it was selfishness, maybe it was denial, he wasn’t sure which it was. All he knew was that he couldn’t bare the thought of Yoongi looking at him with sadness in his eyes.

I’m fine.

He lied to himself because,

it was an easy thing to say,

I’m fine.

but a harder thing to be.

I’m fine.

 I’m

 fine.

 “Jeongguk, are you okay?”

 For Yoongi—

 “Yeah.”

 I’ll be fine.

 For months he was able to pretend like Hanahaki wasn’t slowly filling his lungs with beautiful flowers. When he was at Clair de Lune he could act like nothing was wrong. He didn’t care that it meant he would be sitting at home coughing up petals until the sun came up, Yoongi didn’t need to see any of that. Jeongguk could handle that much and a lot more if it made Yoongi smile.

Jeongguk would do anything for Yoongi,

Anything.

he would even live a little longer.

All for him.

 All for

 him.

 Because I love him.

Because he loved him.

 And sometimes,

just sometimes,

love is enough.

 Then, faster than he thought possible, he’d been at Clair de Lune for a whole year.

Which, to be fair, didn’t seem accurate.

Have I really only known Yoongi for a year?

It felt like much longer.

It felt like Yoongi had been a part of his life since the very beginning.

He really couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t at the bar cleaning tables or serving drinks. The drunk that first stumbled in and picked a fight with the person who eventually hired him no longer existed. Maybe it had something to do with how often he worked there, but it felt like more than that. It felt like his whole life had revolved around Yoongi for so long.

Only a year.

Strange, how time played tricks on the mind.

Jeongguk thought only alcohol could do that.

Yoongi taught him otherwise.

And somehow that didn’t surprise him.

“Happy Anniversary!”

He was standing at the door when a confetti bomb went off in his face. For the entire shift Yoongi made no inclination that he had any idea what day it was, or how important it was to Jeongguk. Which he didn’t mind, Jeongguk had no expectations from him. Yoongi was just his boss, just his friend. Friends don’t make big deals about work anniversaries.

Unless they do?

Thump.

“You thought I forgot, didn’t you?” Yoongi accused him with a smirk. “Don’t try to deny it you asshole, it’s written all over your face.”

Jeongguk blushed.

“Whatever.”

“Whatever.” Yoongi mocked. “You’re not fooling me, kid.”

I wish I could.

“What do you want me to say?”

“How about a thank you you ungrateful brat.” He chuckled. “Better think up something fast or I’m going to eat this cake I got for your rude ass all by myself.”

Thump.

“Fine.”

He muttered.

“Thank you.”

Yoongi grinned.

Thump.

“That’s more like it.”

Thump.

“Now sit your ass down and keep quiet. I’ve got a cake to cut.”

His heart racing a mile a minute, Jeongguk could only nod and do as he was instructed. He took a seat at the bar while Yoongi grabbed the cake from the back and did his best not to stare.

Behave.

“I didn’t really know what cake you’d like, so I just got chocolate.”

Thump.

“Chocolate’s fine.”

“Good.”

Thump.

“Because that’s all you’re getting from me.”

And that’s okay.

Thump.

I don’t need anything else.

You’ve already given me so much.

While Jeongguk was doing his best not to make an obvious fool of himself, he noticed something—

Yoongi rolled up his sleeves.

and his heart stopped.

His eyes darted back and forth between Yoongi’s wrists, searching for something—

that wasn’t there.

That’s not possible.

There was no flower.

There was no tattoo.

His skin was completely bare.

“Here ya go, eat up!”

Jeongguk looked at the slice of cake in front of him,

but he had no appetite.

In fact—

he felt sick to his stomach.

Maybe he really was sick,

Of course I am.

because blood and petals spilled past his lips.

“Oh shit—fuck. Stay here, I’ll go get a clean rag.”

Jeongguk had been so distracted by Yoongi’s missing tattoo he wasn’t able to control the coughing fit he was enduring. Each time his diaphragm contracted he felt the roots digging deeper into his lungs, the pain was excruciating, crippling. It was too much for him to keep hidden from Yoongi, he couldn’t stop the blood as it pooled in his mouth and spilled past his clenched teeth. All he could do was watch helplessly as the white petals swirled hypnotically in the puddle of blood.

“Holy fucking shit, just hang in there Kook it’ll be okay.”

His heart ached in response because no matter how much he wanted to be fine—

I can only pretend.

—he would never be fine.

“I’m okay, Yoongi.”

For you I’ll be okay.

“You don’t have to put on a brave face for me, I know this is probably killing you.”

Jeongguk didn’t mean to but a bitter laugh slipped past his lips.

“It’ll take a lot more than this—”

Cough.

“—to kill me.”

He wondered if he was the only one who sensed the irony.

“I think it’s about time you tried to find your soulmate, Kook.” Yoongi said quietly, cleaning off his mouth. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

he reached out for Yoongi’s bare wrist.

“What if I don’t want to find my soulmate?”

Thump.

“What if I—”

Thump.

“—only want you?”

Yoongi stiffened at Jeongguk’s confession, shocked at how easily the heartfelt words left his bloodied lips.

“Jeongguk—”

He sighed but didn’t move.

“do you have any idea what you’re saying?”

Thump.

“I do.”

Thump.

He dusted his thumb against Yoongi’s pale wrist, pressing lightly against his pulse.

“You’re crazy, Kook.”

Thump.

“I’m sorry—”

Thump.

“I don’t feel the same way.”

Thump.

Jeongguk expected that much.

Thump.

But he really didn’t care either way.

Thump.

He was still smiling,

Thump.

because the racing heartbeat he felt,

Thump.

wasn’t his own.

Thump.

And that while Yoongi could hide behind words,

Thump.

he didn’t realize that he was far more honest than that.

Thump.

Even when he didn’t want to be.

“That’s okay, Yoongi.”

Thump.

“I didn’t expect you to.”

And apparently neither did you.

They didn’t talk about his confession after that night, they didn’t let it change their relationship either. It wasn’t anything awkward, it was something Jeongguk had to get off his chest. Afterwards everything went back to normal, just two coworkers who happened to be really close friends. They would laugh together, smile together,

perfectly

normal.

The only difference was that every now and then—

Jeongguk would catch Yoongi staring.

Or at least he thought he did because before he could get a good look,

Yoongi had already turned away,

his red ears saying more than his mouth ever would.

But Jeongguk kept his distance,

he stayed away.

If Yoongi was going to push,

Jeongguk wouldn’t pull.

He would wait,

and wait,

and wait some more.

Until Yoongi was ready.

“Hey, you got a second?”

Which was sooner than Jeongguk could’ve hoped for.

“Of course, what’s up?”

“Do you wanna go for a walk with me? I think I—I owe you an explanation.”

Thump.

“Sure.”

They didn’t go far, just down the street to the park. For a while they sat there in silence, and at first Jeongguk thought their walk was an excuse for Yoongi to go out and smoke a cigarette. He felt his lips pull into a frown. Yoongi’s habit was the only thing Jeongguk hated about him. He hated watching Yoongi fill his lungs with toxic chemicals, hated how something so ugly would probably kill him someday.

He deserves better than that.

“So—”

Yoongi started, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“—this isn’t me like, taking back what I said or anything, okay? Just needed to like—get that out of the way.”

Jeongguk nodded.

“Cool, awesome. But—I still think you deserve to know why. You’ve been honest with me so I—I should be honest with you. That’s fair, right?”

Nod.

“Great. This is going better than I thought.”

He said, pointedly ignoring how his hands were shaking uncontrollably.

“You—you saw my wrist, I know you did. You know that I—that I had my flower removed.”

Nod.

“I met my soulmate when I was still some snot nosed brat who could barely go a whole day without picking a fight.”

That sounds familiar.

“So when I realized that the chances of ever seeing him again were less than desired I—I had my tattoo removed.”

Jeongguk reached out for him. “I wish I had done the same thing.”

Yoongi pulled his hand away.

“That’s not the point, I wish I hadn’t.”

Jeongguk froze.

What did that mean?

“Because I was so afraid of being alone I took away the one thing that would help me find him, that would help him find me.”

Jeongguk swallowed nervously.

“I was such a little bitch that I would’ve rather let my soulmate die than risk never finding him again.”

I never thought of it like that…

“I’m not proud of what I did, Kook.”

He sighed.

“I’m a coward that doesn’t deserve love.”

Thump.

“You deserve the chance to live a long life, you won’t get that with me.”

Thump.

“I don’t like you like that, so there’s no reason for you to stay. It’s best for you to move on.”

Thump.

“Tonight’s your last night working at Clair de Lune. The deal’s off.”

Jeongguk didn’t even flinch.

“The deal’s been off for months and you never let me go. You wanted me to stay as much as I wanted to be here.”

Yoongi’s cheeks began to turn a light pink.

“Stop kidding yourself kid, I just—I forgot is all.”

Thump.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

He challenged, scooting closer to him.

“If you really want me to go, say it.”

Silence.

“Say Jeongguk, I don’t want you in my life and I’ll be gone.”

Silence.

“I’ll get up from this bench and you’ll never see me again.”

“I—”

Yoongi hesitated, almost tripping on the words.

“I don’t want that.”

Jeongguk couldn’t help but smirk.

“I don’t want that at all.”

Thump.

“Okay.”

Then, under the light of the full moon,

Jeongguk kissed Yoongi.

And,

despite all his best efforts,

Yoongi kissed him back.

Jeongguk had seen perfection in his life,

he saw it twice.

Then he saw it and heard it every day.

But how perfection felt against his lips—

he had no words to describe.

There wasn’t fireworks,

or electricity surging through his soul,

and somehow that perfect moment underneath the stars still managed to take Jeongguk’s breath away.

Yoongi was raw and unforgiving, generous and kind. Everything that Jeongguk came to love about him was present in his kiss, in the warmth that he gave back to him. He took Yoongi’s bare wrist in his hand, gingerly caressing the piece of his soul that he lost a long time ago. He wanted him to know that he would never be alone, that he would be by his side for as long as he could.

Don’t be afraid.

While it wasn’t possible, he felt that maybe Yoongi heard him somehow because suddenly he was gripping Jeongguk’s shirt as if he was scared he would disappear. A chill reverberated down his spine, he felt butterflies beating their delicate wings against his ribs, whatever Yoongi was trying to tell him—he heard it loud and clear.

Don’t leave me.

I won’t.

Promise?

Promise.

Then,

for the first time in years,

it didn’t hurt to breathe.

Which Jeongguk knew wouldn’t last,

but he didn’t care.

After ten years of waiting,

the moon had returned to his sky,

brighter than it ever was before.

“God—what the hell have you done to me?”

Yoongi said with a smile.

Jeongguk shook his head and laughed.

“I think I should be the one asking you that.”

“I guess we’ll never know.”

And that’s okay.

They knew their time together was limited, Hanahaki didn’t wait for anyone or anything. Soon Jeongguk would stop breathing, soon a bouquet of perfect white roses would pierce through flesh and bone, reaching for the one thing it could not have. His days were counted in petals and he was slowly running out.

Somehow—

they didn’t care.

When they looked into each others eyes everything else slipped away. Time would stop and they would fall happily into ignorant bliss. They chose to ignore the inevitable to enjoy the memories they had yet to create. It was their one comfort, the one thing they held dear because soon—

it would all be over.

“I wonder what would’ve happened if you never walked into my bar.”

Yoongi mused as they laid together in a field of flowers.

Jeongguk stifled a laugh.

“I would’ve wandered into another bar, gotten into the same fight, and would’ve probably woken up in prison.”

Yoongi chuckled.

“Then I’m glad you picked my bar that night.”

Pause.

“In more ways than one.”

Jeongguk smirked, lacing their fingers together.

“If it wasn’t for the moon we never would’ve met.”

“What is up with you and the moon?”

I fell in love with it.

“I wish I knew.”

I love the moon

that filled my lungs with flowers,

I love the moon

that never fails to make me smile,

and I love the moon

that’s slowly killing me.

 Because it brought me to you.

 The last stages of Hanahaki are always the worst and for Jeongguk it was no different. As his days dwindled he couldn’t hide it any longer. He couldn’t hold in the flowers that were set on destroying him. When he passed out at work, when no matter how hard he coughed he couldn’t dislodge the flower from his airway, Yoongi finally knew the truth. He stood in the corner of the bar while everyone else rushed to Jeongguk’s aid. He watched in horror as blood pooled around him because his worst nightmare had come true.

Hanahaki was about to steal the most important person from him.

And in his own mind—

it was all his fault.

So,

he vanished.

By the time Jeongguk came to—

Yoongi was gone.

He didn’t leave a note,

what would he say?

He didn’t leave a trace,

almost like he never existed to begin with.

Jeongguk sat at the bar, tears streaking his face and a smile twitching at his lips.

Despite everything—

Everything…

—he was still happy.

Happier than he ever thought he’d be.

If he had the option to go back,

to find his soulmate and live a happy life,

he wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t trade the handful of months with Yoongi for anything.

Because they were

perfect.

As he held a perfect white flower in his hand, stained red with blood, he didn’t feel any malice towards it. Towards fate, towards his soulmate, he would no longer be angry at something he had no control over. Sometimes mistakes happen, sometimes fate gets it wrong.

People like Jeongguk—

they don’t get happy endings.

He had grown to accept that.

With Yoongi gone from Clair de Lune, Jeongguk felt no obligation to stay there. As much as he loved that quaint little bar, it wasn’t the same without him. He decided to spend the last few weeks of his life mending the bridges he had burned. He called his friends from school, apologized for how he pushed them away, and made amends where he could.

People who had no reason to take him back did so with open arms.

He made a trip back home to see his parents, to let them know he was happy. They cried when they saw him because the son they had lost came back only to lose him again. He apologized for that, apologized for his selfishness, but he didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye. Even for him that would be far too cruel.

The last place he made a point to visit—

was the clearing where it all began.

He came back to the tree stump under the light of the full moon, a bittersweet smile on his face. No matter how much time had passed since that fateful night he could still remember every last detail of his soulmate as he sat there angry and alone. How perfect he was. He remembered falling in love with someone who was more beautiful than the stars that shined overhead. He remembered falling in love with someone who made it seem like time had come to a complete halt.

He remembered a perfect night when love was innocent and soulmates meant forever.

How a red hibiscus had blossomed on his wrist,

how he first caught a glimpse of the flower that would one day kill him.

And he still loved it just the same.

Turning to leave, he noticed that at the base of the stump, a handful of white flowers reached up towards the moon. It was odd, seeing something so beautiful without the sun to sustain it. Curious, he crouched down and let the petals rest on his fingers. They were soft, graceful, and hummed with mystery. He couldn’t help but smile at their persistence, they reminded him—

of Yoongi.

Of Clair de Lune.

A beautiful flower that only opened up its petals to the cool warmth of the moon.

Carefully he plucked one and pulled it in close, realizing that not only did it remind him of Yoongi—

There’s no way…

—it was the same flower that had been draining his life for years.

For so long he had been certain it was a rose that plagued him,

and he wasn’t sure why that suddenly filled him with such hope.

Because it didn’t matter what the flower was,

only who it belonged to.

But—

if Yoongi could be personified by a flower,

it would be the one in Jeongguk’s hands.

He felt crazy for considering it, like a flower had cut off oxygen to his brain, but what if—

what if

Yoongi was the moon

that first brightened his sky

all those years ago

on a perfect night

just like this.

It’s impossible.

But—

“Hey.”

what if it’s not?

When Jeongguk turned around,

there he was.

His own definition of perfection.

“Are you just going to stare at me all night?”

Well—

He smiled.

—probably?

Because, if Jeongguk was being perfectly honest, he was at a loss for words. What do you say when you’re looking at the one person you thought you had lost forever? The one person that gave love, gave life, more meaning than he ever imagined?

What could he say when his soulmate,

when the moon,

was standing in front of him?

Am I dreaming?

No, he wasn’t.

This is more than a dream.

This is fate.

And he was right.

Once again,

he was right.

[atalana]

Alright, I’ve just spent 17 hours absorbing the epilogue, and in true Dirk Strider fashion, I have Thoughts.

I had plenty of responses I’ve been considering to this, about two hours ago I was honestly thinking of just dropping in with a fuckin one liner like “So Dirk Three wrote the epilogue” (Dirk Three kinda did write the epilogue, and I’ll explain that too), but we’re on the fucking essay train now and no one’s getting off it any time soon so it’s time to dive into this fucker and get it all off my chest.

Under the cut you will find essays on Dirk, cherubs, ultimate selves, both major Dirk fics (Detective Pony and Theatre of Coolty), a bunch of story bullshit, and my severe love for all Homestuck characters

(But very little criticism of the epilogue, I am no longer about that life)

So the prologue is important here. It’s the main bit of accurate information we have, not tainted by an unreliable narrator. (Well, it is, but less so). The prologue tells us that, with the characters outside of canon, they are becoming their ultimate selves, particularly the characters most susceptible to such knowledge, like seers, or heart players.

Now Homestuck wrestles a lot with the idea of the ultimate self. It is, as defined by the text, the true thing a person is, an amalgamation of every possible version of themselves. It is not a viable human being, because that’s not how human beings work. It basically amounts to Hussie’s character rules, like, there are some ways that these characters will be always, some things they’re prone to, things they like, decisions they’re likely to make, but who the person is within that is subject to extreme change depending on circumstance. The four people who embody this narrative most clearly are Vriska, Terezi, Davepeta, and Dirk.

I’m still not 100% sure on why the ultimate selves outside of canon thing is, but my best guess would be this - within the story, there’s a definite timeline, right? Like, these are the things that are written down, this is what you can see, the word of god (loaded phrase, thanks Dirk), the things that you look at when trying to apply death of the author (even more loaded phrase, thanks Hussie, also thanks Calliope). There’s more than one timeline, sure, but that’s the point, everyone is who they are within that timeline, affected by what happened to make them who they became. Outside of canon is, well, outside of the story. They’re not affected by the story here, they’re just characters. This is a fanfiction site. And what does fanfic do best? It takes the characters, takes who they are, pulls them out of the story, and shoves them in wherever it likes, to become whoever it is they become. And thus who the character is exactly becomes murky and confusing if you’re trying to jam them all into one thing, and it all gives Rose Lalonde a headache. Ultimate selves.

Davepeta liked their ultimate self, it helped two kids who were otherwise struggling with unsatisfying ultimate selves to become a better whole.

Vriska took the proactive approach, by which I mean bullying her other selves into letting her become the ultimate Vriska, which was ultimately useless and gave her no ultimate self at all

Terezi saw her ultimate self, and is still processing what that means for her (but also Terezi is still in canon, so she’s immune to epilogue bullshit)

And Dirk, god, poor Dirk. Dirk was terrified of it. Because he could see his ultimate self and he knew that’s not the kind of person he wanted to become. (And this is where I start using the Theatre of Coolty numbers because there’s no other way to get through this, if you haven’t read/seen it you 100% should, but as a general note, Dirk One is the main Dirk we know, Dirk Two is Brain Ghost Dirk, Dirk Three is “Trickster Dirk” but actually revealed later to be Hussie, Dirk Four is Hal)

Because here’s the thing. Dirk’s ultimate self is him, but it’s also Hal. It’s also BGD. It’s also Bro. And Dirk One was never as bad as he thought he was, but he surrounded himself with copies of himself, so he knew how bad he could be, and tried everything he could to avoid it. We have actual canon confirmation on multiple occasions that Dirk would so much rather kill himself than become the kind of person capable of hurting his friends. Which only got worse after he met Dave and realised Bro existed, like, that just doubled his resolve to Never Be That Person.

(Hey, fun hypothetical, if you kill yourself to stop yourself becoming a bad person because you know it’s inevitable but you’re too good a person to want to go through with it, is it heroic or just? Because I would like to have a lengthy discussion with the god tier clock!)

God, there’s so much I can write on the subject of Dirk’s ultimate self. Because you can see every version of him inside there, there’s Bro in his possessiveness, Hal in his need to fuck with people for no real reason, BGD in his hyper critical nature (beyond what is normal for all Dirks), Dirk One in his desire to never let anyone hurt him again. (God, the “I’ll never let you break my heart again” line hurt so much, because like… I can feel Dirk One in that line, but it’s delivered by ultimate Dirk, and ultimate Dirk isn’t the kind of person who would have even been heartbroken by Jake’s actions. Dirk One poured his soul into that relationship and Jake responded by ignoring him, and like, this isn’t a dig on Jake, because that did make Dirk very intense and hard to deal with, but as Calliope so beautifully put, the children left alone are those who most despair at being ignored. And every version of Dirk was so very alone.)

When sending initial thoughts to my friend, I wrote “Ultidirk is Dirk One but without the compassion or empathy and with an apparently infinite supply of horse tranquilizers”. Which was mostly a joke, but does get down to the core of the problem. Dirk One and Ultidirk aren’t really that different, when it comes down to it. But there’s one crucial element that makes all the difference. Dirk One’s life philosophy is “This is a me problem, so I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you don’t have to deal with that problem, at any cost”. Ultidirk’s life philosophy is “This is a me problem, so I’m going to make it everyone else’s problem. And it turns out that without basic human empathy and morality holding him back, Ultidirk will just… fucking declare himself God, and use that alongside his powers of manipulation to just write a new story in which he is the villain. Very little changes in the scale of things.

(The other main difference is that Dirk One is scared to exist, whereas every other Dirk is scared to not exist, that’s the stuff, good callback, etc etc, that line fucking killed me, and also killed whatever remnant of Dirk One was still lurking inside Ultidirk and god I want to hug him)

(I also want to extract him from Ultidirk and bring him on an Ultidirk murdering quest bc he would be 100% down for that without a second’s hesitation but that’s a bit hard to do)

Now you may be wondering why I brought up Theatre of Coolty if I was only gonna refer to Dirk One as Dirk One and not touch on any of the others. Well, it’s true, saying Dirk Two and Dirk Four when I have simple three letter names for both of them is a bit ridiculous. But then we get to Dirk Three.

Now here’s the thing about Theatre of Coolty. Dirk One appears in Homestuck, as alpha Dirk, in Dirk’s usual shirt with the orange hat. Dirk Two appears in Homestuck, as brain ghost Dirk in god tier pyjamas. Dirk Four appears in Homestuck as Hal, and he wears a red hat because he’s Dirk in a different colour scheme, also because the sprite Hussie eventually made for him based on fanon had a red hat, all’s sorted there.

But Dirk Three? Trickster Dirk? Never appeared in Homestuck. They tried, but it was still Dirk One. Dirk is immune to cherubic influence (remember this point too, it’s important), because his concept of self is so present (and also because he’s depressed as fuck, but that doesn’t necessarily exclude you, it’s just the presence of both at once). And who does Dirk Three turn out to be? Well, they said it from the start, Theatre of Coolty is about the presence or absence of god, who definitely will show up at some point. Dirk Three is Hussie in a Dirk costume, Dirk Three is God, Dirk Three is The Author.

Dirk Three is Ultidirk. Congrats, all four Dirks have officially shown up in Homestuck, to whatever extent this counts as Homestuck, an extent which has been thoroughly documented by its own existence bc this is Homestuck (kinda) and you gotta lean into the bullshit or you’ll drown in it.

So yes, this was penned by Dirk Three. Who is also Lord English in two different metaphorical ways now (The trickster element, and also the fact that the epilogues insist on making Jane a second Condesce, which in this analogy puts Dave as himself and Dirk as, you guessed it, Cherub Master of All. Which is additionally insulting as fuck because Dirk grew up in that apocalypse and would never contribute to recreating it, if Jane ever was inclined to, which she isn’t, but you know).

And LE’s major force of opposition? Adult Calliope. (Also, like, Vriska, but symbolically it’s the other cherub.)

Which brings me to the main point of this essay, and that is that all of this? It’s a cherub fic. And we knew this, from the moment we were offered that choice. Meat or Candy? Well, neither of them are sustainable food sources for humans, not with the meat uncooked like that. They’re not satisfying endings for us either. But it’s all cherubs eat. (Well, that and special stardust, but that was Caliborn’s intermission. This is Calliope’s offering.)

Which again feeds back into the AO3 metaphor because from their introduction, Caliborn and Calliope have been fandom inserts, representing all of us, for better or worse. They read the story, come up with the theories, they write the fanfic.

And Calliope’s trying so hard. But she’s not human. She doesn’t get it, not on a way that connects with the characters, only with the text. Cherubs spend their lifetime alone. Cherubs only have black romance. Cherubs think trickster mode is an acceptable way to solve problems.

And, as Dirk pointed out back when he was still himself, everyone getting married and having a bunch of babies for no reason doesn’t solve shit.

Without a solid timeline, everyone became susceptible to becoming their ultimate selves. Ultidirk is a dick with the powers of actual capital g God, and none of the remorse of Dirk One, so he took control of the narrative. And so Calliope, the fanfic author, the one with the power to write a new story (with the exception of Dirk, as previously mentioned, he’s immune to cherub bullshit, and John and Terezi, who are still in canon), tried to help everyone realise their full potential.

But she made them selfish. She made them solitary. She doesn’t understand how humans work, so they became parodies of themselves. In meat, there’s a plot, but it’s insubstantial, because no one is truly themselves, facing a Dirk who lost himself years ago. In candy, it’s fluff with, again, no substance. It’s trickster mode calmed down. Everyone gets married and has babies, but it makes no sense, and everyone’s miserable.

And John Dirk and Terezi are the only ones who see it, because they’re the ones who haven’t been given to Calliope. But what’s the point, when they’ve lost their power over the story? What’s the point of gaining power if you’re not yourself anymore? (And one way or another, they all die in the end.)

The rest of them… Well, they do the things the narrative implied they would do, but usually in the worst possible way.

(Aradia and Sollux have been canon neutral since 2011 and they like it that way)

And now we go back to Detective Pony, like everyone and their mother have analysed already. Because yeah, these two things have so much in common, but also, some really crucial differences.

Both are stories in which Dirk takes control of the narrative, in which he is fought for control by another author figure, in which he considers his own role in the story, what he’s created, who’s got the authority (I still love that pun so much), and eventually forces the characters to come to the conclusion that he needs to be defeated, because at the end of the day Dirk is still hopelessly suicidal and like most problems the kids have, this is never addressed outside of ironic bullshit. (Not to him anyway, it’s kinda addressed in candy but I think if you’re talking about someone’s suicidal tendencies at their funeral it’s too fucking late).

But Detective Pony is ultimately a heavily veiled love letter to his friends. Detective Pony is Dirk exploring what he fears becoming, it’s him learning to let go, and eventually he relinquishes control of the book to the characters in it (as does Jeanne Betancourt).

Meat is Dirk’s notice of ownership over his friends. It’s him glorifying having become that thing he used to fear, it’s holding even tighter to everything he fears losing, and ultimately neither he nor Calliope trust the characters enough to pull back. They’re both obsessed with it, in both iterations, this battle between the two of them, even though it was never supposed to be about either of them.

But Detective Pony has an original story, with a timeline. It even has a second solid story for Dirk to come from, since Homestuck itself explicitly states when and why Dirk made it. When Detective Pony sits down to analyse which version of the text is better, it has that substance to fall back on. Jeanne Betancourt’s version is boring but kind. Dirk’s is interesting but cruel. And because the characters are all solid people, not their hazy ultimate selves, they have agency too, and can decide their own fate.

When Dirk analyses whose version is better in the epilogue, his whole reasoning is that neither is good. The characters rarely have any agency. Even the few moments, between Roxy’s void powers and Dave’s ability to stand up to Bro (which, by the way, so proud of him, how many people do you know who, in a situation where their childhood guardian and abuser literally became god and tried to thought influence them into doing something they kinda wanted to do already, would have the mental resilience to say “no, this isn’t me, stop that” and stand by that? Dave is the strongest goddamn character in this whole comic, holy shit), are only hints of who they were as real characters in the story. Dirk takes control, in one version, because he’s lost himself to Ultidirk, who’s overly concerned with how stories are supposed to be written, and tries to wrestle Homestuck into a shape he finds interesting. In the other, Dirk kills himself before he can hurt anyone. (And before anyone gets on my case about Dirk’s reasoning being he’s lost his purpose, his purpose was always protecting his friends.)

But Calliope’s not helping them either, just piling them full of romance and fluff and selfish parodies of themselves and thinking that’ll work out. Giving the villains “redemption” without ever actually letting them redeem themselves. Explaining all about their tragic backstories without doing anything with it. To bring back a very old quote, it’s like when Mario gets the star. He wins, but he’s denying himself many powerful moments of catharsis.

Just with less happiness, more death, and a bunch of weirdly political teen drama. And then when Calliope gets distracted by Ultidirk and gives up, everything unravels completely, but it also lets them live a life which does let some of the characters be happy, in a weird roundabout way. It’s dysfunctional as fuck, but these characters care so much for each other, not even being in a weird self melting fanon bubble could erase that completely. (And then things get buck fucking wild because this is still Homestuck we’re talking about)

(Though seriously, I could have done without the Jane is a fascist thing, she deserves better than that. Like what was the point of decrockertiering her if she was just gonna go right back to that? Also I love Dave but he barely has a leg to stand on in most of those political arguments anyway given how he completely destroyed LoHaC’s economy and once accused Karkat of communism for captchaloguing a chair. And while I’m complaining, Jake English is still not being allowed to consent to fucking anything.)

I’m not sure why this was written. I’m not sure why a lot of things in Homestuck were written, honestly. It’s certainly not a satisfying ending, but I don’t think it was supposed to be. It’s not disappointing either, and it’s definitely interesting, with all of Homestuck’s trademark humor.

When I first wrote this halfway through candy, I’d written the following as an ending:

“But if we’re going to triple kill the author, I think this is just ultimately validating everyone’s own interpretation of the ending. You can’t write everyone’s fanfic at once. You can’t be a cherub, or a god, we don’t write fic about people’s ultimate selves. What you can do is provide a timeline for them to exist in, and a better one, where they have a chance to be the people they have the potential to be. And just to be happy, in a way that feels real.”

But honestly, now? I think the point was just to fuck with us, and also do a fuckton of exposition about canon and the nature of reality

So fuck it, let’s end on a relevant Dirk quote

[laurasauras]

What do you think Homestuck believes in?

g, i love you, your interest in me infodumping is honestly such a delight. i can sometimes feel like i’m talking way too much, but you always make me feel special, it’s lovely!

this is long, so i’m going to use a cut. i’m so sorry, mobile users. blame tumblr. tl;dr? i think homestuck believes in love, hope, and fighting even when the stakes seem insurmountable. 

so there’s a lot of like “core themes” in homestuck, but “what homestuck believes in” is such a lovely and specific way to phrase it, so i’m gonna go with what i think the most important ones are. 

firstly: love. and more specifically, all love. 

look, there are romantic parts of homestuck. and they’re often show-stopping.

(also homestuck does visual callbacks very well, there’s a reason that these two scenes are composed the same way.)

but the core of the story is these four kids, all of them starting from a state of isolation. they don't have "real friends", they feel disconnected from their guardians, they feel disconnected from everyone in the world they walk around in, but they go online and they have each other. and they're constantly joking and making fun of each other, but they're also checking in almost every time they achieve something, as if grounding their friends in their real life.

the story keeps progressing and getting more and more complicated, but it can never quite overshadow the beauty of the pesterlog conversations between friends.

i think that's a large part of what the audience of homestuck connects with—that feeling of connection online and the support that the characters give each other. 

i also think that a lot of the time, the friendships and familial relationships in homestuck were given the same—if not more—importance as the romantic relationships, which is fucking uncommon to see in media! almost every character has to come to terms with how their upbringing shaped them, and you know what? that's the same of almost every person.

the conversation between dirk and dave before the final battle is one of the most important and touching moments of the whole story! two of the characters most concerned with their adherence to masculinity and appearing Too Cool For Emotions talk about their feelings and trauma before hugging it out. and it doesn't further the plot, it isn't part of the hero's romantic arc, but it's vital. 

the second big thing i think homestuck believes in is the importance of doing what is right. in being a hero.

homestuck positions john and his friends as the main characters selected by the universe to play sburb and literally ascends them to god status.

they're empowered by destiny! they're going to beat the game, conquer the worst villain ever and bring humanity and trollkind back from extinction AND their new world isn't going to be under the tyranny of a genocidal fish alien!

but that empowerment is also a disempowerment. 

look at how frequently dave falls into the reluctant hero trope. fate fucking kicks them around. when they are so destined to do all that stuff, can they really be said to have free will? and when they do seem to make a wrong choice in relation to their destiny, it's either something that furthers the plot OR it creates a doomed timeline and they're usually killed horribly. 

and it's a story that is constantly reminding us that it's a story! you can definitely lose yourself in homestuck, you can zone into it and accept the rules and just read it as if it's a reasonable reality, but i don't think it was ever written that way, or when it is, i think that that's a result of hussie accidentally getting into the story as well!

like okay, we start off with this:

that's fucking bonkers. he's 13 and he doesn't have a name? but of course it's bullshit, it’s just a cool homestuck thing. because we never get a conversation that goes:

TG: so the big 13

TG: you get a name yet

EB: yup! let me formally introduce myself as john!

TG: i give that name 4/5 hats

no, dave just immediately calls john by his name. and likewise, until we're introduced to the other characters and learn their names, they're referred to by their handle abbreviations, but the second they're introduced it's first name basis time. because it's a story and our perception is what matters most.

then we have the ridiculous intermission, that starts out as what dave sees when he goes to mspa.com and which resembles problem sleuth enough that i almost thought it was just that, but then seemed to be an entirely new adventure, and then became a pretty vital subplot!

and then we have the author literally climbing into the story and we watch him type it. Don't Forget This Is All Written By Me!

the website changes format, there are the meta jokes, there's the way that caliborn raises the same complaints to hussie about the story being too long and confusing that some members of the fandom were. there's the way that pantskat happened! or they drastic changes in artstyle, often because someone else was drawing a panel!

so like, we've got these characters who seem to have goals that they've developed of their own volition and who seem to have their own ways of going about achieving them, who at times even act contrarily to how hussie says he wants them to act (remember how he attempted to propose to/revive vriska and how both she and caliborn at different times type into the narrative prompt "instead of" hussie) but of course ultimately! he wrote every word!

they don't have free will, they don't even exist! but on a different level, which any writer can understand, once you as an author have established a character, you trap yourself into writing them consistently, which can mean that while something might be best for the plot, the character metaphorically crosses their arms in your head and goes "i would literally never do that."

some characters of homestuck become aware that they are and we know they are, but most of them don't think that, they think that they're just living the life they have.

how the fuck are his characters supposed to go about their days when their author finds it funny to block their path with a giant bust of snoop dogg? and when they work for pages and pages and pages to get around whatever asinine thing andrew fucking hussie (or worse! his fans!) has come up with, there's another obstacle and maybe there's not even a point anyway!

how do you not just dismiss it as something like "hes just being weird/an asshole/etc”?

yeah, look, he might just be having a laugh. but so to might god. 

sometimes you're walking along and something really stupid happens and it makes you for a second want to believe in god so that you can stare at the sky and say "really." :|

think about why detective stories are so popular. they give the illusion that if you're clever enough, if you collect the right data and link it together, you can trace back exactly what happened and solve impossible riddles and make sense of the world. you meet a man who has dust on his knees and you can deduce that he's been sneaking down to the basement of the shop he works at to tunnel into the bank next door. there's nothing magic about it, watson, it's just good detective work.

and we neeeeed that lie! but you know how it works in the real world? in the real world, police are baffled at a crime scene until a decade later someone discovers the fingerprints belonged to a fucking KOALA! that's more ridiculous than a snoop dogg bust in a hallway, or most of the other things hussie has written.

i think like that's a huge message behind the epilogues too, because john figures out he's in a story in candy and everything feels pointless.

but if that's the world he lives in, that's the world he fucking lives in. there's nothing pointless about living.

and i think that clicks for him towards the end when he talks to roxy and then rose. rose actually thanks him for choosing a path that allowed her to have the life she had, because she loves her wife and daughter. like it's insane, but she's happy, that's the life she lived and she doesn't want a more sensible one.

so what happens to us when we get that feeling like the world is pointless? 

(which is A Major Fucking Side Effect Of Depression BTW and i still stand by my interpretation that ALL of john's shit can be put down to his depression, which is what makes it interesting)

for a generation with fucking terrifying levels of mental illness, when we start feeling like the world is too crazy and the odds are too high, and there's fucking war happening and our friends aren't even guaranteed to be on our side?

we just fucking fight anyway.

because we live in the world we live in and we just have to be grateful that we are who we are because of that.

every character in homestuck chooses this, again and again, so i have to read that as hopeful. alpha dave and rose knowing who hic is and that their kids are so far away? still gonna fucking fight and fight LOUDLY even though they know it won't change things. (on top of the fucking white house, in case the political allegory was too subtle lmao.)

there are so many messages in homestuck and honestly i feel like i’ve barely scraped the surface of them. but what does homestuck believe in? i feel that in my heart. homestuck believes in love and in doing what is right, even when it’s hard to figure out what right is, even when you might not make a difference. 

homestuck is good, actually.

[nadziejastar]

Between Isa and Lea who's smarter? And what types of intelligences do they have?

Axel: Well, they do get a little help. Their teachers dish out plenty of homework. Trust me, it's over before you can blink.

Roxas: Hmm... I could deal with a week, maybe.

Axel: Most kids spend summer vacation just goofing off with their friends. They save the homework till the end and then help each other finish it.

I think they were both equally smart. Saix and Axel both used a more complicated sentence structure and had a more extensive vocabulary than most of the other characters in the series. That’s what made Axel/Lea so interesting to me. He was the fun extroverted type like Sora and Hayner. But, he was a LOT smarter.

I just think that Lea was the type who had a harder time sitting in class all day and keeping on top of homework because he got bored easily. Isa, as the calmer and more introverted one, probably had an easier time with academics, though Lea was just as capable as he was.

“Bet you don’t know why the sun sets red.” He eyed Roxas mischievously. “You see, light is made up of lots of colors. And out of all those colors, red is the one that travels the farthest.” He finished with a boastful grin.

“Like I asked! Know-it-all,” Roxas retorted, and Axel let out a low laugh.

Axel wasn’t quite himself today, though Roxas couldn’t have said exactly what had changed about him. Still, it wasn’t a bad thing. Roxas laughed, too.

I think one of Isa’s defining characteristics was that he was a know-it-all. That’s why one of Axel’s most precious memories was Isa telling him why the sun sets red. Isa probably paid attention more in class than Lea did, so he knew stuff like that. Being clever and knowledgeable was part of his personality, like his sarcasm. It’s why he made a good advisor to Xemnas.

When it comes down to it, I cannot understand wiseness for the same reasons that I cannot understand hearts. It may be something that cannot be reduced to numbers and charts. This is the conclusion I have derived as a scientist.

Unfortunately, I was wrong all along. The wisdom I thought I had cultivated was, at best, idiocy. I thought I was trying to be wise so I could be useful to someone, but I lost sight of that goal somewhere along the way. Before I knew it, all I had chased after was intelligence—my scientific findings were all I cared about. I can only say that I was clearly just foolish. Thus, given my theory, I could be considered the most foolish of all. But no, the most foolish of people wrap all the way around to become the wisest—and I could only dream of being so wise.

-Vexen’s short story “Flowers for Intelligence”

Another reason I don’t like Lea and Isa being apprentices is because I don’t think they had the “science” type of intelligence, like Xehanort, Vexen, Ansem the Wise, etc. All of those characters’ arcs involved them being very good with data and numbers and theories.

Ansem the Wise: Xehanort. Foolish apprentice of a foolish man. You have surpassed nothing---only proved how little we both know. We may profess to know the heart, but its essence is beyond our reach. We're both ignorant---as oblivious as when we began. I'm afraid that any world you try to create... Any world of yours...would be an empire of ignorance. That is why you and your creation are destined to fall!

But they were all foolish in understanding the heart. That whole idea really had nothing to do with Lea and Isa’s character arcs, though. I think both of them had the more “philosophical” and “emotional” type of intelligence, which is very heart-based.

Do you know what happens to those who lose their true purpose? Inevitably, they destroy themselves.

Saix and Axel both had strong need to feel a sense of purpose and meaning in their lives. Saix always talked about his purpose and you could tell how empty he felt compared to when he was a human.

That's why I sacrificed myself to that man. If you didn't need me, then I no longer held meaning. However, reality is different. It wasn't about whether I was needed or not. If I could just connect to others' hearts, that would be enough.

In KH3, he said he felt a loss of purpose once Axel left. And he joined Xemnas to have a sense of meaning. I think, as a human, Isa knew that connecting with people’s hearts was enough to provide meaning.

Isa: What is it with you and picking up stray puppies?

Lea: I want everybody I meet to remember me. Inside people's memories, I can live forever.

And Lea was also the type to want purpose. Even as a kid, he wanted every interaction he had to be meaningful.

Axel: As long as we remember each other, we'll never be apart. Got it memorized?

Roxas: Ha ha, wow, Axel. That sounded ridiculous.

Axel: What? I thought it was pretty deep.

I think Lea liked Isa so much because Isa understood that part of him and felt the same way. Other characters laughed at Axel’s “deep” talk. Roxas wasn’t philosophical and never thought too deeply about things. But Isa was like Lea. He could have deeper conversations with him than with other characters.

But being able to encounter both a Nobody and their somebody? That was unheard of. By nature, they couldn’t exist at the same time. And yet, Roxas was right here. It wasn’t just the Keyblade that made him unique. He existed at the same time as his somebody.

That went against all the laws they knew. The Keyblade embodied the will of the worlds or so Axel had heard somewhere. Were the laws of the universe and its will two different things?

After Castle Oblivion, Axel was very pensive and philosophical.

In this world that wasn’t supposed to exist, there were things that shouldn’t have existed. They were Nobodies.

Axel stood on the castle balcony looking up at the moon, frowning slightly.

Why did I ever meet that hero from that world who wanted to exist, when I don’t exist? Was it the world’s intention? Why did we come to be?

No matter how much he thought about it, no answer came.

There’s some kind of answer out there, right?

He constantly pondered the meaning of his existence.

For the past few days, he had been mulling over what Xemnas could have meant by that speech. Hearts having power over them? What was that about?

Whenever Axel was whiling away the hours by himself, that phrase kept bouncing around in his head. He didn’t know what was so compelling about it. Did the other Nobodies think about stuff like this?

Hearts, emotions… He couldn’t stop thinking about where it all came from. He chewed over the possibilities, coming up with theories. Since when had he been a philosopher?

Axel was less like a scientist and more like a philosopher. He was very in touch with his emotional side.

Love… Huh.

“It is powerful, but it’s not a power we get to have.”

Axel had very little confidence in his ability to explain it. But whenever Roxas or Xion had questions about the mysteries of the human heart, he did his best to answer.

He had a strong interest in the human heart in a very UNscientific way. I can’t imagine why Ansem the Wise would have made either him or Isa apprentices in the first place. It makes no sense. They really had no qualifications.

Ultimately, what is a heart? What are friends? Is there any meaning to making connections with your heart?

The fact that it's lovely to be here probably means that I've made a connection. Eating ice cream in this calm atmosphere, by the usual sunset, is lovely.

What does it mean to be in the Organization, and what is a heart? I wonder what you're thinking next to me. I haven't heard your thoughts, but I can guess.

I'm guessing that you're feeling a few painful things in your chest, and at the same time warm things. After all, those are all proper things for keyblade heroes to feel. All those feelings in your chest are both sweet and salty, just like the flavors of the sea salt ice cream.

Isa was also philosophical, had deep thoughts about friendship and what it meant to have a heart, etc. That’s how he is in his Character File short story.

How is a man-made puppet any less worthy than a Nobody that was never meant to exist at all? They're both ambiguous. Tenuous at best. And she's my friend. Even if neither of us should exist, that doesn't invalidate the bonds we form.

Saix was Norted, so he obviously wouldn’t have had the same depth as a Nobody. He was totally blind to matters of the heart. But I think as as human, he probably was very similar to Lea. A deep, complex, introspective person.

[dahniwitchoflight]

Candy 15-17

Alright I know this is supposed to be sad but this feel so ridiculous it’s funny

“He ventures a glance at Dave, who is at the front of the line carrying a smaller casket containing Dirk’s decapitated head. “

why is there a seperate casket for the head, that’s not what funeral homes do xD

“It would be absurd were it not so tragic, and possibly also predictable.” 

“He looks at Dirk’s casket, sitting diagonally in a hole in the floor and popped about 13% of the way open.”

That’s a strangley specific number

Am I to take the imagery of something being diagonal as imagery for a “4″ and then complete it with the 13 to make 413?

Cuz is so, that’s heavy handed and ridiculous probably just as Dirk intended

“ROXY: and give it over to someone whos way more eloquent than me

Dave gets to his feet”

right because Dave is always so eloquent when it comes to delicate emotional matters lol

I don’t know why I’m finding this all so hilarious instead of tragic, maybe because it’s so melodramatic and in a way that feels scripted specifically by Dirk himself

ah, 3 quarters 

3 1/4′s

413 backwards now

“or even worse that he was somehow cosmically fated to become that person no matter what he wanted or did to prevent it “

I’m noticing more and more every time the phrase Cosmically fated is used in some form of Homestuck media its always bringing to mind ideas of Doc Scratch, like he’s the one who said it actually or it’s said in reference to him

so, +1 point to DS = DS again

“Gamzee:  I may not be all up and learned about his life, but I’ve got deep spirital connections to his death.”

yeah you sure do, and we’re not even talking about his decapitation right now aren’t we Gamzee?

This is actually a really solid point that the day “Dirk” died was the day his ultimate self got poisoned through the unholy merger that is Lord English/Caliborn/Gamzee/AR/Equius

So he’s probably been a bastard ever since Lord English started existing, which I mean “I am already here” blahblah means Dirk was very likely like this from the start potentially, but he was probbaly only really a bastard ever since Arquis got sucked into Caliborn/Gamzee

“GAMZEE: ThIs WaS nO cOiNcIdEnCe. It WaS a HiGhEr PoWeR gUiDiNg My PaTh.

GAMZEE: tHeSe PoWeRs MaDe SuRe ThAt I wOuLd Be ThErE, tO rEcEiVe A gReAt WaRrIoR’s FiNaL mEsSaGe, AnD rElAy It To YoU oN tHiS dArK aNd DrEaRy DaY oF dEaTh.

GAMZEE: HoNk!

The clown thrusts his hand somewhere beneath the waistband of his pants and starts obscenely rooting around. He retrieves a piece of paper, crumpled and soaked from the rain outside, and attempts to smooth it out over the lectern. The wet paper breaks apart immediately beneath his oafish clown paws.

GAMZEE: AwWw, ShIzZ. i GuEsS i’Ve GoT tO uP aNd WiNg It!”

yeah that note was probably the last shredded remnants of good dirk since there’s literally no reason to leave a sentimental note like that for his friends, makes sense Gamzee was guided by “a higher power” to grab it and make sure it gets relayed more like ruined to his friends

“KARKAT: THAT WAS HALF A HUNDRED WORDS TO EXPRESS A THREE LETTER SENTIMENT.

KARKAT: I’D SAY HE’S DOING FINE.”

What? How does “I’d say he’s doing fine” translate into “a three letter statement”?

Are they just hamfisting in the threes now or what?

“DAVE: i dunno dude thats

DAVE: a little fucked up actually

JOHN: you think so?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: dirk was a complicated guy

DAVE: dude obviously had reasons for doing what he did

DAVE: if you go back and just rewrite his decision

DAVE: thats like denying him his personal autonomy

JOHN: huh. i... didn’t think about it that way.“

Yeah if only they’d realize that what Dirk needs is a huge heaping helping of someone pushing back against his dumb decisions for once

Gotta give it to John though, he’s struggling against this drugged up haze so hard, he knows getting married to Roxy isn’t right and tries to think about that

but then he gets caught up in the drugged up candy haze and starts giggling, yeah you guys are gonna be happy alright, happy in a nice little drugged up stupor

lampshaded by John still reaching out to terezi despite being at his human wedding

Aww, trolls don’t have a concept of weddings? well, that makes sense but still

oh man it just keeps happening, this is supposed to be the story where John and Roxy get their love story, but all were actually getting is the faded echoes of what should have been which is apparently John and Terezi

oh god, Jane, jane why did Gamzee have to be your third partner, what the fuck even

I don’t wanna think about Gamzee about in relationships nope this is where I start getting uncomfortable

confirmed jade attempting Blackrom with Karkat, that’s interesting, and she’s bad at it too meaning she must not really have an interest in it

oh wow, she’s really just doing it because she thinks its what Karkat would want isnt she? Girl really is just desperate for love

“Three months later, John is still thinking about his last conversation with Terezi.”

See, this is how you know the JohnRoxy relationship is doomed/not meant to be

John Egbert, lover of Con Air and Nic Cage, has a loving wife and (probably) daughter and NOT ONCE has this narrative shown them OR made the joke, we just absolutely passed over the whole wedding and birth event in one fell swoop of unrequited feelings jam with another woman

Why is Roxy praying? That’s such a weird thing to drop as a small detail, who would she even be praying too?

“What’s bugging him about it is that Roxy didn’t seem to have any suggestions of her own.”

Yeah relationships built on social chameleon-ing aren’t happy for the chameleon either

Yeah John, little bit late to be having this sudden realization that you didn’t actually solve the problem (LE) by running away from it, even if everyone else has accepted that version of events

“ JOHN: you gave me a list of instructions and told me that i had to use my retcon powers to go back to a very specific point in time to defeat lord english when he was still just a kid. “

*THEORY INCOMING KILL BILL SIRENS ACTIVATE*

Wait, is that what Rose said at the beginning? No it isn’t, I remember the bit about John has to go back inside canon and defeat Lord English, I don’t think the method was ever fully explained though, nor the idea that he had to defeat him as a kid, it was never said he had to go back in time, just go back to canon

and that’s not what happened in the Meat timeline either! Nobody went back in time to defeat Caliborn when he was a kid, they just had the big showdown with LE exactly the way Rose is describing that went horribly wrong

this is practically screaming NEITHER Meat or Candy is the true version of events 

Actually yeah, defeating Caliborn really IS the way this should be settled, because it’s also the way that Dirk get saved as well, can’t get his ultimate self tainted if the taint is destroyed before it ever comes into contact with him

also im rereading the prologue now, it’s is NEVER explicitly said that John has to go and defeat lord english’s child form!

She said “you have to go back to canon to defeat LE” NOT go back in time to defeat caliborn

and “you can’t recklessly attack his hulking adult form without the house juju”

not “you can’t attack him as an adult at all” but “you can do that WITHOUT the juju” and describes it being used in the same way that Vriska ended up doing in Meat

yeah, she never mentions any plan to defeat him as a child in the prologue, which probably means Rose only saw a vision of his defeat as an adult as well

It’s gonna be JOHN who gets the idea to go back and kill him as a kid, because that’s how he understood Rose’s instructions!

But this is great, everything is vaguely worded enough that it COULD be applied to a fight against a young caliborn too! but just hasn’t yet!

What if you take the empty cursor and fill it with a young caliborn? instead of unleashing a full one against an adult LE? which proves to be pretty useless in the long run despite Rose’s apparent clouded vision?

Rose even says herself its only purpose is as an empty vessel meant to be filled by something, talk about totally understanding yet missing the point, this is probably what she meant by being unable to see any path beyond the meat or candy routes, she couldnt see the possibility of using the juju on caliborn before everything goes down just like how it was used on John and friends to trap them in there in Meat!

It’s Caliborn’s destined time out spot! Removing him from Canon and from being able to influence it without needing to kill someone who technically hasnt done bad things yet but absolutely will in the future solving the baby adolf problem with Caliborn

Oh man, what if they even trick Caliborn on using it against himself? talk about an earthbound reference, defeat Gigyas (LE) by tricking Pokey (Caliborn)  to trap himself in the "Absolutely Safe Capsule” (House JuJu)

Oh man back on the Candy train though John’s having an absolute breakdown, being infused with that canon retcon power seems to be the only thing preserving his ability to care about stuff beyond this happy drugged up paradise

Earth C has become Homestuck’s Ba Sing Se

“ He braces himself, as if splashing an imaginary glass of cold water in his own face, and reminds himself once again that he has a wonderful life. A perfect life. He’s HAPPY, god damn it.”

You really aren’t John, this is very clear, dousing yourself with some more Void to try and drown that out ain’t helping