#unless you have been been following the course of his argument through years of time and dozens of journals

[pompompurin1028]

intimacy plus dazai is one of my favourite things

[demaparbat-hp]

Even if zuko has a plan to end the war, making katara work amongst people who likely hold racism towards her and aided and supported the genocide of her people is still weird, especially since zuko benefits from the fire nations oppression of people throughout s1 when hunting the Avatar. Not good choices to make in a zutara au :/

Believe me, I've made these arguments against myself over and over again.

I know I'm putting Katara in an extremely difficult and unjust position in this AU with—from an outsider's point of view—little to no reason other than "I just wanted to see her in Fire Nation armor and kicking ass" and no consideration for the context. I'm not trying to somehow forgive nor redeem the Fire Nation's actions in war just because...well...just because. Not at all. People who've read Soundless (or any other of my wips, really) know that's not the case. On the contrary—I always do my best to see the war through a realistic, mature lense. And that includes everything that makes the Fire Nation so terrible in the first place.

That being said, there are some things I considered when deciding to make Katara side with them (even if her true motives lie elsewhere) in this AU. And they are not excuses. Just, different layers of context.

First of all, she was desperate. By this point in her life, her mother was dead, her father had left to fight the war, her brother followed behind a few years after, and she was left filling the empty spaces when, by all means, she wasn't ready for the responsibility. She had been feeling helpless and hopeless for years, and ached to do anything to help her people beyond doing chores and taking care for the children.

Let it be known that Aang's apparent betrayal comes from a place of trauma and misplaced anger on Katara's part. Much like how she put the Fire Nation's sins on Zuko's shoulders in S3. She is not on the right here, but this is her natural way to process and understand grief. There are many different aspects of her development as a child involved in how she views the Avatar—and, by extension, Aang—but more on this later.

Katara was young, and reckless, and she had just been "betrayed" by the first person who ever looked at her and saw more than the perfect caretaker she was forced to be. She was not in the right state of mind to make a decision like that and, to be honest, she couldn't have predicted the consequences. She saw a clear path to contribute to the end of the war, and by La she would take it.

On Zuko's end, you might argue that he should have known better than to let her join him and, well, you would be right. But there were many things about Katara's trauma response and state of mind that—unless he had known her for a long time—he couldn't have known. He will definitely blame himself later on, when the racism and cruelty towards Katara begins, and especially when word reaches her family at sea.

It's Katara's job to smack some sense into him from time to time and tell him that, yes, he should have tried harder to stop her (and she would probably be better off because of it) but what's done is done. And, by all means, the decision was hers to make. If anything, it's their fault, not his alone.

Now, Katara doesn't suffer the entire AU. That would just be cruel.

Zuko's crew was handpicked by Uncle Iroh, so you can expect dissidents, traitors and a few White Lotus agents who were smart enough to keep their true opinions quiet. There are...mixed opinions in that bunch, of course, but that's expected and, to be honest, rather easily dealt with. They are mostly honourable people just doing their best to end the war from the inside.

The real problem comes when they cross paths with, say, Zhao's fleet (or Hakoda's, let's be real).

And you may ask why Zuko is hunting down Aang, then, if he's secretly a goody-two-shoes himself... I'll explain that later in depth, so stay tuned.

In short, I know the decisions I've made, as a creator, are debatable at best, and downright blasfemous at worst. But they're deliberate.

I want the readers to feel conflicted about Katara's choices in this AU. I want people to have mixed opinions about the war, the (apparent lack of) morality, the characters, you name it!

I'm not trying to glorify a victim of war joining the side of the ones responsible for her people's genocide, even if it's just for show and she's actually set on destroying their government from within. Not at all.

Katara made a stupid, horrible decision, and she's going to suffer the consequences. But she's also going to fight to reach her goals, because she's stubborn like that.

I know most people may have a little trouble understanding where I'm coming from, because they don't have all the information necessary to make a full opinion.

I'm really thankful for these kind of asks. They let me explore these concepts and AUs in depth, and see what you think about them. I'm only human—my opinions are not infalible, nor The Right Ones, and this is a kind of discussion that I love to have.

So, keep the asks coming!!!

[warlordgab]

Analysis of shipping: One Piece anti-romance arguments

Years before Oda was asked to write Strong World, years before the Summit War saga, even years before many of us joined the fandom, a significant portion of fans shared an anti-romance sentiment.

This perspective was so widespread that it seemed as if the One Piece community in general was convinced no pairing would ever become canon. Sure, there were some exceptions: 

Some people dispalyed indifference toward the anti-romance trend, but also towards the emotional narrative of the story. So, they would likely support shallow premises anyway

Others shipped characters by relying on inter-series comparisons that no longer hold up nowadays. (it didn't take long for perceptive individuals to find out how unlikely those "theories" truly were)

Some of these people were editors on other wiki sites, that pointed out how filler provided shipping fuel for stuff that never gets actual development in the manga. And yet, the same editors also promoted a non-existent "sexual tension" as many shallow shippers would, but I digress.

Still, since that era, a lot of arguments had been made for this position regarding romantic love; some were forgotten, and some stuck but in pretty unexpected ways.

So, here we’re going to consider those arguments, how bad they aged, and what possibly led to the anti-romance idea losing its initially strong foothold in the fandom.

The anti-romance idea through time

Firts, let us consider that one of the most important elements that helped the anti-romance idea to grow was how Oda talked about the subject. When the mangaka was asked about if someone from strawhats (except Sanji) was in love, he replied in a SBS they were all "in love with adventure."

While that was a pretty creative answer, it seems some readers weren't satisfied with Oda’s reply. But, it wasn’t like fans couldn’t agree that the statement was technically a correct.

Not to mention that fans back then didn’t have the Hancock character westerners simp so hard for. Instead, they had Alvida as the first woman calling dibs on Luffy...

... But, this was easy to dismiss given how they never became allies or friends.

Still, that doesn’t mean the anti-romance idea didn’t have its weak spots. In fact, Oda gave us an interesting “insight” on one scene, that LuNa fans loved, in the SBS Volume 32:

This was long before Summit War saga. It's interesting how the only girl that managed to make Luffy a “little horny" was Nami.

It’s true that the Oda’s answer would later change to what basically amounts to “bad influence,” when he was confroted with the fact Hancock’s beauty couldn’t get the same response from Luffy. But, the fact, still remains that it was Luffy’s response, unless people want to argue Luffy’s companions have a greater influence on his libido than Hancock’s beauty ever could. Doesn’t sound so good when you think about it, does it?

Of course, a lot of perceptive readers and even some anti-shippers know that being as “horny” as a “healthy boy” is not something inherently romantic. So, even if this moment left a crack on the anti-romance argument by displaying Luffy’s “healthy” reponse to Nami’s sex appeal, that still wasn’t enough to debunk it.

Needless to say, some anti-shippers may claim being “horny” is a must for a relationship to grow, but that myopic perspective completely disregards how emotional connections can develop by sharing meaningful moments instead of lusting after a potential partner. 

Moving on, Oda’s vagueness back then just encouraged readers to keep discussing the subject of potential romance by relying on the manga material they had so far. Still, the anti-romance crowd would shortly get another argument, when Oda stated the following:

“One Piece is basically a shonen manga, manga for boys, so romance isn’t depcited“

Ironically, this is where the another crack in the anti-romance idea starts to show. As many chapters later, we got something subtle about Usopp and Kaya at the end of the Ennies Lobby arc.

But, the fact the story focused more on its plot, themes, and other characters, probably made it easier for everyone to miss how this relationship could contradict the 'no romance depcited' argument.

Later, the fandom got introduced to Boa Hancock. While Alvida’s interest in Luffy got scratched as “not romantic enough,” Hancock’s infatuation for the hero couldn’t be ignored due to how over-the-top it was. But, it still wasn’t enough, why?

Because the relationship between Luffy and Hancock never develops into something deep or truly impactful, as Hancock’s crush remains as one-sided as it can get.

Luffy’s rejection to Hancock’s proposal just made it a lot easier for the anti-romance argument to stay strong despite the few cracks it had at that time.

Specially, when you factor context. Luffy’s reply was framed as a negative response to Hancock’s promotion of herself as a potential wife. Add Luffy’s personality to this setup, and no matter how you try to put it, he sunk that ship before it had a chance to sail.

Debunking the “no romance” myth?

So far, we’ve seen things that could a best put a dent on the anti-romance argument. But, what actually destroyed this myth?

We have to flashforward to the Dressrosa arc. Two pairings with tragic backstories were introduced: Kyros and Scarlett & Señor Pink and Russian

Kyros' relationship Scarlett story serves as part of the compelling drama of his background. And we can tell how Pink’s relationship with Russian made his character and current state and struggle emotionally impactful.

This obviously destroyed the argument of “no romance in One Piece” and contradicts Oda’s own “romance isn’t depcited”

It became easy to see that romantic love was not only playing a part in the story, but it was doing so in a way that didn’t negatively impact the author’s work. Instead, Oda used romantic love to enhance both character and story.

And this wasn’t going to be the last time, as One Piece Film: Gold gaves us something we’re about to consider in the following section, as Tesoro and Stella were depicted as lovers.

However, the greatest blow to this argument was delivered by something that not many people saw coming: SanPu's tragic love story

We already know that Pudding’s initial affection was just an act to fool Sanji and carry out Big Mom’s plot against the Vinsmoke family. But, as soon as she has her first genuine moment with Sanji, she develops actual feelings for him as the chef shattered the image she had of her own self for years. 

Needless to say, due to their respective crews being enemies, this relationship couldn’t become official, as Pudding gives Sanji a pretty romantic farewell... before removing it from his memory.

Here, romantic love plays a important role in the emotional narrative of the final scenes.

I could mention Kinemon and O-Tsuru, as well as Oden and Toki, but I think that would be overkill at this point.

Still, while the “no romance” myth got destroyed, the anti-shippers didn’t give up, those who saw how this approach became ineffective in promoting anti-romance just made their arguments undergo a microevolution. And this is where we get to the final stage:

“They’re in love... with adventure”

Given that the statment of “romance isn’t depcited” became completely useless, one would think that’s the end. But, instead of trying to encompass the entirety of One Piece, the idea came back to its origin.

All strawhats are “in love with adventure,” so accordig to self-aware anti-shippers, there will be no romantic relationships between members of the strawhat crew, because adventure is their only “love.” But, as the philosopher George Santayana once said: 

“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it”

And even the old version of this argument started to shows some cracks at the Zou arc:

Nami was both happy and eager to receive Luffy and the rest, and as pointed out by perceptive readers, she could've ran to someone else, like Zoro, something some westerners in high positions clearly wanted, but I digress.

Instead, she went straight to Luffy and only then she let out how she felt about their current predicament with Sanji...

...people try to downplay it by saying the moment was all about the chef. But, the thing is, not only she could’ve ran to someone else's arms, she ran straight to Luffy, but also poured her heart out only when she was with him.

This scene was truly remarkable as it was not only impactful, but also consistent with previous developments between Luffy and Nami as seen in Oda's works.

As we already already analyzed multiple times in this blog, this matches the trend of Nami seeking (and finding) hope, comfort, and strength in Luffy.

While this isn't something explicitly romantic, this consistent bonding could likely lead to a potential growth and an eventual relationship upgrade if the author keeps working on it.

After Dressrosa damaged the credibility of their arguments, and the possibility of more development from characters so important to the story, anti-shippers had seen better days. But, that wasn’t the only thing that left another crack on the last anti-romance argument.

Let’s talk about One Piece Film: Gold

At this point, a lot of LuNa fans, and many people who read my post already how Oda changed the climax of One Piece Film: Gold, and his work speaks for itself...

...as explained in the special Volume 777, Tesoro was in a romantic relationship with a slave: Stella. Their romance ended up in tragedy when he failed to save her from getting bought by a noble.

If we see the climax of the movie, as well as Oda’s draft of the scene, we can see that the intent was for Luffy’s situation with Tesoro holding Nami in his grasp to mirror Tesoro’s own tragedy back when he lost Stella. And thus Oda drew a parallel between Luffy/Nami, and a romantic pair: Tesoro/Stella.

However, many people would find such things too subtle or simply insufficient. But, even if we ignore emotional narrative and trends, the real weak spot in this “no romance in the crew” argument, is the basis itself: “They’re in love with adventure”

This isn’t only a clever response, and a way to avoid the subjet. It is a reminder of what One Piece is at its very core. 

You probably don’t hear this one pretty often, but One Piece story is “romance.” In fact, here are some definitions that show how that statement is far more accurate than more people would imagine:

Romance:

“A mysterious or fascinating quality or appeal, as of something adventurous, heroic, or strangely beautiful”

“A long fictitious tale of heroes and extraordinary or mysterious events, usually set in a distant time or place”

“A narrative in verse or prose, written in a vernacular language in the Middle Ages, dealing with strange and exciting adventures of chivalrous heroes”

– thefreedictionary.com, 2016

“A prose narrative treating imaginary characters involved in events remote in time or place and usually heroic, adventurous, or mysterious”

–  Merriam Webster, 2016

Romantic:

“Marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized”

“Having an inclination for romance: responsive to the appeal of what is idealized, heroic, or adventurous”

–  Merriam Webster, 2016

Remember what’s the title of the first chapter of the manga? “Romance Dawn.”

The claim of the strawhats being in love with adventure fits the definition of “romance” in the framework of the series. But, does this concept exclude romantic love?

No, this narrative style can easily include romantic love if the author wishes to. In fact, as far as we seen, One Piece featured this kind of relationships multple times in the story.

So, trying to uphold this anti-romance phylosophy is ultimately pointless as the only argument left is not enough anymore, and the story already debunks most, if not all of the arguments.

Shippers take the anti-romance approach?

While anti-shippers don’t have a solid ground to stand on, some of their arguments are still used nowadays. Ironically, they’re used by shippers in an attempt to discredit rival pairings

This why the “no romance in the crew” lives on. More often than not, shallow shippers don’t even try to quote the author, instead they repeat what they hear or read in YouTube or Reddit. 

This applies to many newcomers that lack the time and patience to stomach a long-running series, as well as people who let their bias for certain characters dicatate their view on the story, something akin to the mindset that feeds the endless squabble of Zoro Vs. Sanji.

Still. the point is that the anti-romance arguments are now the greatest assets for pretty loud individuals to wage shipping wars out of ignorance and hate.

However, this doesn’t mean that there aren’t any active anti-shippers using these arguments. It’s just that LuNa seem to be their favorite target

But, that leads to the question: Why LuNa? Why are pairings like LuHan, SaNa or ZoNa seemingly getting ignored by anti-shippers for the most part?

Well, you guys probably realize I haven’t mentioned Sanji at all in the “Debunking” section. That’s wasn’t something incidental

By the time, the community rebuffed the idea of romantic love in the series, Sanji with all his corny flirting and pervy gags never made a dent in the anti-romance arguments because most people knew back then that being horny is not something romantic. Even when Hancock appeared, fans knew a well-written pairing could only happen if the feelings between the characters become mutual.

So, what makes Luna the favorite target of these people? What makes the pairing stand out to anti-shippers?

Is it because their consistent bonding is the perfect setup for a relationship upgrade? Is it because their moments are far more meaningful and impactful from a narrative standpoint? Or is it because the alternatives to LuNa lack the potential to grow? I’m not sure about it

Still, those who had seen all of this, know better. At this point, anti-romance arguments mean little to nothing in the story. And Oda will keep writing characters and human relationships regardless of what fans do or say.

So, instead of going around making noise about how “there shouldn’t be a romantic relationship in the crew” or trying to start senseless war between fandoms, we should enjoy the ride and see what Oda has in store for us in the final saga.

[trentskiiii]

enough for you - mason mount ft. dec

: this was inspired by enough for you by olivia rodrigo (angst- NOT HAPPY ENDING (unless i do a part 2) , only read if u wanna be heartbroken) this is my first fic :((( you wld think my first wld be about trent but ive been thinking about this idea for forever and thought mason would be a better fit :) i didnt do a proofread bcs this took me so long😭

desc: you and mason mount have been in a relationship for around 2 years. you realised that the way he treats u n how u feel everyday in the relationship quickly changes. what will happen when u talk to him about it? WARNINGS: some curse words and then just PAIN PAIN AND PAIN AGAIN.

SHOULD I DO A PART 2 WITH DECLAN RICE?!?!?!?!

you woke up of your sleep. light peeping through the blinds of yours and masons bedroom. you’d move into his house after a month into the relationship. the relationship that you noticed was beginning to deplete, but you never knew why. and you were sure he didnt too. everything changed after the prior 3 years of friendship, when you two met at a coffee shop. cliché right? you two always joked about it, saying it was meant to be. or at least used to. for the past 2 months, he was getting distant. after his away game against real madrid. you turned to his side of the bed, as usual, he was not there. in fact you barely saw him nowadays. only an hour or two before he left the house in the morning, and another few hours when he came home to sleep. you couldn’t help it as a tear streamed down your cheek as you thought about the state of your rs. you took a long, deep breath before wiping the tear and getting up. you made the bed and headed downstairs.

“Morning, babe!” you exclaimed. A bright smile plastered onto your face, as if you hadnt been crying a second ago. You were greeted with barely a smile as he nodded, looking down at his phone. “So whats the agenda for today? Date night’s tonight right? Make sure youre back by 10!” you reminded, praying he hadn’t forgotten about it. You saw his brows furrow as he looked up at you slowly. You knew you weren’t going to like his response. “Shoot, i’m so sorry babe. I made plans with the boys and i dont think theyd like it if i cancelled.” he said blankly. Not a single hint of sorry for you. even though he said it, you knew he didnt mean it. You could feel your heart crack. A straight line down the middle. This was the 5th time he’d cancel consecutively. It’s like you didnt matter to him anymore. You had to say something.

“Cant cancel on the boys. But of course you can cancel on me. Do i even matter to you, Mase?” you asked, genuinely but with a laugh. You didnt want to show how much it hurt you. “Dont start y/n-“ you quickly interrupted him, “Dont, start what Mason? Now i cant even talk to you without it turning into an argument? Answer me, Mase? Do i matter to you?”

“What dumb question is that, y/n/n? You’re my girlfriend, of course you matter? And you’re the one screaming! All i wanted to say was that i’d rather be with the boys-“ Silence. Both of you now staring into each other’s eyes. He knew he fucked up. “Y/n. I didnt mean it that way. Im sorry okay?” he quickly broke the silence as he saw you try to hold back your tears. But failed and it felt as if the whole ocean was pouring out of your eyes as you wiped them away. “You walked up the stairs quickly, hoping he’d follow you, but he didnt. instead, he just picked up his phone and acted as if nothing had happened.

As you sat on the edge of the bed in your shared bedroom, his words kept replaying in your mind. What changed? He was head over heels for you in the beginning of the relationship. Treating you like a princess. Never hurting you and always making sure you were happy. Was he cheating on you? You hated yourself for thinking that of him but what else could you do? You took the hint that he didn’t want to be with you at that moment and quickly packed your essentials into your handbag and grabbed your keys. There was only one person that could help you. Declan. He was both yours and masons bestfriend. But, you knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be with Mason that night because Mason was supposedly hanging out with his other gang. Outside football. You’ve never even met them. For all you knew, “the boys” could have been code for some chick he was shagging behind your back.

You finished packing, sneaking in one of Masons tshirts, not knowing how long youd be away from him. Obviously you would miss him. You pace down the stairs and head towards the front door. “Where you headed, Pie?” he asked innocently. You cringed at his use of your nickname- Pie. He called you that because on your first date, you shared a slice of pumpkin pie at the cafe you two met. “Out.” you replied bluntly, grabbing your car keys. The door slammed behind you as you got into your car, and drived quickly towards dec’s.

“Y/n! I missed you!” you were greeted by a certain someone, with a pair of green eyes and a smile as bright as the sun. You two began catching up with each other on his living room couch.

“How’s Mason? Havent seen him in ages!” suddenly your smile disappeared. Every week without fail, mason claimed to be meeting up with declan. So who was he meeting instead? Why did he lie? Your train of thought was quickly stopped when dec tapped your shoulder lightly. You asked him about it. Confused.

“You sure he said he was meeting me? Havent spoke to him around 2 months? Yeah i think so” you began putting the pieces together. tears started dripping down your beautiful y/e/c eyes. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong, y/n/n?” declan asked as his thumb swiped your falling tear. “i-i-is he cheating on me, Dec? Am i not enough?” you asked, your voice trembling. “What? Of course you’re enough, y/n. You’re more than enough. Don’t ever doubt that.” he pulled you closer as you rest your head on his chest. One of his hands across you chest and another supporting your neck. He chose not to say anything involving Mason because he himself didnt know anything about his situation.

The two of you eventually fell asleep on the couch. You were the first to go after crying everything out. And declan, afraid to move, he also dozed off. you reach for your phone and opened it. Hundreds of messages and notifications. From your friends, instagram, twitter and what interested you most, from mason. One voicemail and 5 missed calls. You clicked open the voicemail and listened.

“Look y/n. Im sure you’ve seen the articles. Where are you? I’ll meet you there and we can talk about it.” you furrowed your brows, confused. So you clicked on y/bsf/n’s message, with a link attached to it. The text below it read, “Im so sorry babe. Call me soon. Im here for you.” Your heart beat growing faster and faster and eventually felt like it was beating at a pace of 1000miles an hour.

“FOOTBALL STAR, MASON MOUNT SEEN WITH ANOTHER GIRL AFTER BREAKUP WITH FORMER LOVER, Y/N” the headline read. what. the. actual. fuck. You sobbed silently for the 4th time that day. and the day was not even half over. But declan quickly woke up to the feeling of tears wetting his tight fit grey t shirt. “Y/n, what’s wrong? Im sure he’s not cheating. We dont even know the fully stor-“ he stopped as he saw the article through your phone screen. “Oh, y/n. Im sorry.” he could only say so much. he knew you were feeling completely shit. If only he could, he wouldve punched the shit out off mason. but he knew it would only make things worse.

———————

A few days passed since then. You were still staying at declans. Every few hours, he would knock on the door offering a glass of water, food or a talk. To which you would decline until he had enough of your stubbornness. “y/n, youre drinking this, then eating this. and im not taking no for an answer.” he said putting a glass of warm water and a bowl of takeout from when he went out earlier on the bedside table. You wiped your remainder tears off your pale cheeks with your hoodie sleeve. and taking a sip of the water before putting it down. “He was my everything, Dec. Why wasn’t i, his? w-wh-what was lacking? am i not pretty enough o-o-or was i not sexy enough? was i not good enough?” you stuttered. you were genuinely confused. all those things he said about you. were they lies? did he mean it? “i wore my makeup the way he liked it. i did everything to make him love me. ever since the day we met, i remember the exact way he liked his coffee. but it wasn’t good enough. the second he found someone more interesting, he left me. did he even love me, dec?” “y/n, of course he did. i still remember the day he met you, he was telling me about your gorgeous eyes, perfect smile, soft hair and the way you laughed. he was in love with you. im sure he still is. Get some rest, y/n. I dont like seeing you like this. and eat up.” he pecked a kiss on ur forehead before leaving the room. declan always understood you. but no matter how much comforting anyone was able to give, you were still hurt. you still cried every minute of the day. only pretending to stop whenever declan checked in on you. the cycle continued. —————-

you heard a knock on the bedroom door.

“im alright declan, it’s okay.” you said, sniffling. it was obvious by the strain of your voice that you weren’t in fact alright. suddenly the door opened. “y/n.” you heard a familiar voice. it wasn’t dec’s.

“what are you doing here? get the fuck out mason. i dont need your explanation. i don’t wanna see you.” you mustered up whatever energy you had in you to say that as you used your hoodie sleeves to wipe your tears again. “my t shirt in your hands says otherwise.” fuck. you were clutching onto the t shirt u snuck into your bag. not anymore as you threw it towards him and it landed on the floor in front of him. “now get out” you ordered again. “i just wanna talk y/n-“ “about what exactly mason? about how you’ve been shagging some blonde chick behind my back. 5 years of my loyalty, my love, ME and so much more wasnt enough for you to stay? you just meet some random slut and leave?” “dont call her a slut y/n. she has a name.” he said sternly. you rolled your eyes and let out a laugh. you were hurt. deeply. “get out mase. i cant be assed talking to you” listen y/n. can we just talk it out like mature adults.” he negotiated. you hated how he was playing the good guy at that moment. and your heart hurt more and more at each of his words. you realised he wasnt there to fix your relationship. he wanted to clear his name. “yeah. because mature adults cheat on the people whos madly in love with them. mature adults lie. i assume you’re only here so you’d stop getting backlash right? because people are hating on you for being a cheater?” you asked rhetorically. you didnt want him to see the other side of you. the one declan had to live with for the week. “you’re one to talk, y/n” mason spoke again. “what are you doing in declans bedroom anyway? seems like you’re comfortable. it’s obviously not your first time here” how dare he. how dare he assume that of you. “what the fuck is wrong with you mason. just fuck off. declans my friend and he was there all the times you weren’t. all the times you were busy in some hotel fucking how many other girls. what exactly do you want from me. i meant nothing to you. everything you said were just lies.” you couldn’t help your tears now. you were basically sobbing. mason just stood there. watching. “Pie, dont cry love. Please dont.” he started walking towards you. “dont call me that mason. you dont mean it. im not your love and neither do i go by pie. please mason.” your tone was lower now. you were basically whispering, your voice breaking. he swiped your tears. “im sorry y/n. you don’t deserve this.”

[stormblessed95]

Hello stormblessed

Tbh this memories jkk were nothing special. We got some moments here and there but actually speaking rest all members and pairs do have these moments. JK did carried jimin 3-4 times but he also carried Tae very easily. And did you saw how fast and easily he jumped on JK ? So it happened several times. JK just carries jimin more often coz he's lighter - paper doll in JK's words. Even you and other jkkers have the same opinion that there was nothing 'eyebrow raising' or 'couply' happening in this memories other than 2 close friends hanging out. So on what basis we still think jkk are a 'couple' because saying content of 9 years is waste because relationships does evolve and change. As of now, we are seeing just 2 friends..

Hello anon.

Let me point out the red flags in your ask so that maybe you can try to hide yourself better the next time you want to try and just spread discourse and rain on parades 🥰

"Hello Stormblessed" rarely any jikookers who follow me address me that way unless they are complaining about me or complaining about jkkrs or complaining about jikook or.... complaining.... you get it. Which I'd give the benefit of the doubt for because it does happen, just not often. But then you continued on to a whole ask about dismissing jikook as "not special." As well as putting words in my mouth. Nice try though. You read the one post and sent in an ask thinking good enough. And you made an attempt to craft an "just friends" argument, but your ignorance shined through anyway. Regardless of the fact that I'm not here to argue. I'm not here to convert anyone to my way of thinking. My thoughts and feelings and beliefs are my own. I share them in my own space on my own time. I have no desire to convince anyone to think the same way I do. Unfortunately other people don't seem to share the same sentiment.

I don't like comparing their relationships here. They are apples and oranges. They all go nicely together in a giant fruit basket but are so drastically different in such an easy to see way, why sit and compare them? So if you can't tell the difference here or the difference in apples and oranges, that's not my fault. That's one for you to sit with for a while

It's adorable. It's cute. I should be able to leave it at that without people like you insisting on more. But sure, let's talk about it. Let's talk about how comfortable Jimin looks up there. How we didn't see how he got up there, just that he has been up there long enough for JK to be running around, spinning and giggling. The face grabbing and silliness is adorable. He's got a grip on Jimins legs that aren't going anywhere and Jimin has his feet tucked behind his back, like he knows how to sit up there comfortably without going anywhere. The trust is implicit as JK runs around the practice room. Like you said, it's clear this has been done several times (you just mistakenly said it about the wrong duo, or maybe you meant both. In which case, carry on.) Tae jumps up onto his shoulder by surprise. You see JKs hands fly up to catch him and their laughter about it afterwards. What I take from this.... oh sorry, I forgot you like the word we to make it sound like we are 🎶all in this together🎶What WE can take from this is that 1) Tae has got mad hops. Damn. 2) JK is strong AF man's barely budged. I'm impressed. 3) JKs surprise followed by amusement and happiness and Taes proud of himself smile are evident and clear to see. This to me does not speak of something that happens all the time, but something fun and silly that JUST happened and they are enjoying. Not to say it hasn't happened before, of course it has, but saying several times, or all the time is a stretch.

Just appreciate a moment without needing to compare it. It's possible. I promise. But trying to shove comparisons at ME is never going to work. Sorry. The taekook shoulder ride from memories gave me impulsive playful behavior (similar to jikook, but not the same) that took JK off guard and then they laughed and moved on. Tae didn't look like he was settling in up there for any period of time. JK made no move to get him off but nor did he make a move to keep him there other than holding on to catch him (duh). The comfort in their ending pose at the end of that jump was not the same. It gave the same impulsive silliness as the baepsae piggyback jump from them to me (also was Tae being silly during a dance practice). But let's not compare so we can just appreciate how cute taekook are together. Right?

"JK just carries jimin more often because he is lighter - paper doll" well damn. Your jikook anti popped out for a second there. You forgot it was supposed to be all HSM we are all in this together up in here. Another red flag fyi. Heaven Forbid the thought that JK could carry Jimin around more often because *gasp* HE LIKES TO CARRY JIMIN AROUND?! Or simply because he WANTS to? Perish the thought! Pearl clutching scandalous of an idea. He does it all the damn time and I doubt Jimins weight has anything to do with it. Saying Jimin is super light wasn't JK giving an excuse about WHY he MUST carry Jimin constantly. But a teasing comment about how easy he is to pick up. Especially with everyone else helping and making him the easiest for EVERYONE to pick up and shake around for their silly Butter MV idea.

You are trying to correlate things that do not correlate. And in your efforts to dismiss it. All you've done is admit that JK carries Jimin around constantly. Man's feet hardly ever touch the ground when JK is around. Probably why that muscle memory kicked in so hard when he went to automatically scoop Jimin up during PTD Concerts. Even though Jimin was just going for like a chest/shoulder bump. Lol

"Even you and other jkkrs have the same opinion that there was nothing 'eyebrow raising' or 'couply' happening in this memories other than just 2 close friends hanging out" The projection. Lol I believe what I said was nothing jikook do surprise me anymore. Not that they don't act couply but that I'm literally no longer surprised when they do. They've shown off a hickey. The only thing that would surprise me at this point hun was actually making out in front of us. And not because I think they don't kiss, but because I wouldn't think they'd ever do it in public. You know, the whole homophobic country they live in and all. In fact, you can read my EXACT words here:

From that post you had to have just skimmed because I went on to talk about how cute and 😏 it was that JK wanted to get his hands inside Jimin's crop top. But you know, that's okay. And I've had plently of posts since then proving that I definitely don't think they are just friends. I know you sent this yesterday though, so hopefully you saw those posts too. 🥰 "content of 9 years is a waste" babe says who?! It's only a waste if you don't watch it I guess. But I'm definitely watching it! "Relationships does evolve and change" they SURE DO! And isn't it so nice that jikook have grown evolved and changed together? And that taekook have grown evolved and changed and gotten closer again the past few years? This post is for you btw. It covers the whole relationships change and evolve topic. The one about how its true, jikook grew apart and taekook just grew closer

By the way, pat me on the back I predicted this exact ask and boy did you deliver. I'm just talking to my friends about these shoulder rides and how cute they are and how strong JK is and how vmin are his babies and so freaking cute.... and how I'm positive I'm going to get "they all do this" asks when I turn my anons back on. Lmao thanks for being predictable 🥰

We are seeing 2 friends! 2 best friends! I love their bond so much. They are so close. The best types of relationships are the ones that start from such strong friendships. 🥰🥰🥰

I'd say thanks for the ask, but I really could've done without. Stop comparing the guys relationships in my inbox. Thanks. I'd apologize for the sass, but I'm not really sorry. I'd say try again next time, but you really don't have to. It's okay. But I do genuinely hope you have a wonderful rest of your day and throughly enjoy memories content. Either for your favorite ship, or bts as a whole (as you should!) Or just however makes you happiest. And I'm glad you at least know that jimin and jungkook are best friends. Their friendship is truly admirable! 💜

[darkened-storm]

Okay! So, I only got this price to draft status in time for Yamato Ishida week, but I am quite happy with it thus far and I wanted to share it for the Bad Moon Rising Prompt. This is my first Digimon piece in quite some time, so here goes.

Also, a huge thank you to @tangledupblue for organising this event!

The Stars Above

A Companion Piece to Tri: Of Honesty and Loyalty

Everything is topsy turvey here, Steph Summers decided as she surveyed the forest around her.

Everything in this world looked the same as her own - but there were subtle differences, as though someone had tried to create this world from a picture and gotten all the textures wrong. The strawberries that they had eaten on their first day tasted sour instead of sweet.

Even the dirt beneath her feet felt different.

She’d needed a break, she realised. After three days of treking through strange forests full of road signs and running from the sort of monsters Steph couldn’t even conjure up in her worst nightmares. It wasn’t really any wonder then, given the circumstances, that she’d landed up in such a nasty argument with her younger cousin over their situation.

The occasional spat between them wasn’t uncommon, but it usually it took a few hours before one of them would calm down enough so that they could talk about it. Steph was so used to this pattern that she was surprised when she heard the sound of footfalls approaching from behind her.

“I told you that I needed a minute - ”

She whirled around, her words dying in her throat when she saw it wasn’t her cousin standing behind her, but rather Matt Ishida, his hands help up in a mock surrender.

“Oh,” she muttered, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “I thought you were … never mind.”

In her defence, he was, perhaps the last person Steph would have expected to have followed her from the campsite.

Of the nine other children she’d been sent to this new world along with, Matt had been the most difficult for her to get a read on thus far. So far, she’s gathered he was the complete opposite to Tai; where Tai was constantly urging them on, Matt had been surprisingly considerate. He ensured Tai gave them adequate breaks and checked in on the younger kids, including her cousin. He was also incredibly unpredictable, going from calm and collect one moment to flying of the handle the next, usually in response to something Tai did or said.

Whatever contempt he held for her soccer captain was entirely absent from his expression as he sat down on the ground beside her, hugging his knees against his chest and staring at the grass. Even the grass here felt different - like soft felt instead of fibrous plant matter. “Things got pretty heated back there,” he commented, keeping his tone light. “Do you want to tell me what you were both yelling about?”

She stared at him, unable to read his intentions. She wondered perhaps if he knew them himself - after all, he didn’t exactly strike her as the sort of person who initiated conversation very often.

“It was nothing - just family stuff,” she sighed. “We were arguing about who’s fault it was that we all ended up here - wherever here is,” she gestured at the surrounding air for emphasis and prompting him to raise an eyebrow questioningly.

“I think the jury is still out on that one,” he said. “That is, unless the both of you know something we don’t.”

Steph shook her head. “That’s not what I meant - I don’t know how we ended up here, in the Digital World specifically - but I do know that it’s my fault we’re both here because it was my decision to go to summer camp this year,” she explained. “Becky would have much preferred to stay home for the summer and hang out with her friends. But I’m the older of the two of us, so I’m usually the one that gets to choose what we do.”

Or at least, that’s the way it used to be, she thought dismally. Of course, it hadn’t mattered who got to pick when they were younger - whatever Steph wanted to do, Becky usually wanted to do too. That wasn’t the case now that they were older, and neither of them were any good at compromising …

“That doesn’t mean it’s your fault that we ended up here,” he told her, oblivious to her internal monologue. “None of us could have have predicted we’d be washed away from camp by a tidal wave and end up in some strange world surrounded by giant bugs and talking monsters.”

Steph didn’t know if it was his choice of words, or the blase way in which he said them that finally coaxed a laugh from her.

“No, I don’t think we could have,” she agreed. “But I shouldn’t have lost my temper,” she added, casting her eyes towards the campsite where she could see Becky surrounded by both Salamon and Patamon. The little orange Digimon was diligently following her instructions to both Becky and Salamon safe. From a distance, there was no hints of turmoil amongst the group.

“Everyone probably thinks I overreacted,” she said with a sigh.

“It’s easy for them,” he muttered, and there was a touch of resentment in his voice. “They don’t have a brother or sister to look out for like we do.”

For some reason, she felt it prudent to correct him. “We’re cousins, actually,” she explained. “We used to be really close when we were kids, but these days we don’t get along so well.”

“The two of you grew up together then?” he guessed.

She nodded. “Yep. Sleepovers are really fun when you’re kids, but I think as we both got older we made our own friends and drifted apart.”

“It’s like you used to be so close to a person that you knew what they were thinking even before they did themselves. And then things changed and now when I try to talk to her, it’s like I’m talking to a stranger.”

“I know the feeling,” he muttered. The revelation that Matt and T.K’s parents were separated had certainly answered some of her earlier questions about the strange relationship between the brothers.

“How long have you been separated for?” she asked tentatively - she knew he had a tendency to lose his temper whenever someone brought up his family situation. But the Matt sitting beside her staring at the grass suddenly seemed very different that the Matt who had been arguing with Tai at every opportunity these last few days.

“A few years,” he admitted. “We see each other for a week or so every summer.”

“That must be hard on the both of you.”

He shrugged, tugging at the blades of grass with his fingers. “I’m used to it - but T.K doesn’t understand. He wasn’t even supposed to come to camp with us, but I think both of my parents let him come just to avoid having a conversation with each other. And now we’re trapped here …” he trailed off.

Steph recognised the feeling of helplessness, of being overwhelmed. “You do a good job of taking care of T.K,” she told him kindly.

He looked up at her, the corners of his mouth forming the first genuine smile she’d seen from him in the three days. “Thanks.”

She smiled nervously, aware of the way his sapphire eyes were fixated on her. “We should get back to the others,” she said reluctantly. “It’s probably not safe to stay separate for too long.”

She glanced back toward the campsite where the others had gathered kindling for a fire. She heard Tai’s voice call out to Agumon, and the small dinosaur Digimon opened his mouth, letting out a jet of fire that set not only the bundle of logs and twigs alight, but also some of the surrounding grass.

A flash of irritation cross Matt’s face at Agumon’s carelessness - it had been a wayward spark from Tai’s campfire earlier that caused Seadramon to attack them earlier. With a tsk of annoyance, he turned away and stretched out against the grass, folding his hands behind his head.

“We’re not that far away,” he insisted as Steph watched Tai hastily stamp out the grass. “Besides, Gabumon’s watching - if there’s any trouble he can just Digivolve to Garurumon.”

Steph could have argued they shouldn’t take unnecessary risks just because his partner could Digivolve now, but thought better of it when she remembered that heading back to the campsite would mean she’d have to apologise to her cousin.

“Just a little longer then,” she conceded, ignoring the slight dampness of the ground as she stretched out beside him and cast her eyes back up at the stars again, thinking back to the many nights she and Becky had done the same on the rooftop of their apartment building. The artificial lights of Tokyo’s skyline had drowned out all but the brightest stars then but here, in the wilderness of the Digital World, the stars lit up the sky like a kaleidoscope.

“I keep studying the constellations,” she told him. “I thought if I could identify one or two of them, I might be able to figure out where we are - or at least get some idea of how much time has passed since we got here.”

“Any luck?”

She shook her head, forgetting that he couldn’t see her face. “Not yet,” she admitted. “I don’t recognise a single one of these constellations - which is weird because constellations are made up of stars that are a million light years away. Even if we were on another planet in the galaxy, they would still appear in the same patterns as they would on Earth. Unless of course we were in another galaxy, but that’s just crazy talk…”

She trailed off, acutely aware that she was rambling, which she knew was one of her less endearing qualities. Usually, when she rambled, Tai would tell her that she was being weird again and Becky would complain that she was over complicating things.

Matt did neither of those things, but instead had let her ramble until she’d simply run out of words to say and silence fell over them both. When she turned her head to look at him she saw that he lay unmoving beside her, looking up at the stars. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, Steph realised, but rather a contented one. She felt better having gotten things off her chest, even if she hadn’t expected to unload those feelings on someone who was basically a stranger to her.

“That one looks like a rabbit,” he said after a moment.

Steph blinked, somewhat confused. “What?”

He pointed up to the sky. “That constellation - it reminds me of a rabbit.”

Steph squinted at the sky, attempting to follow his line of sight until she found a group of stars hovering above the horizon. “That looks nothing like a rabbit,” she said slowly.

“Yes it does,” he insisted, tracing the stars with his fingers to demonstrate. “That’s the head … and those stars are the ears. And that star over there is the tail. See?”

She did, sort of. “Okay, it’s a rabbit,” she conceded, then she grinned. “A very demented looking rabbit.”

He tsked, dropping his hand so that it came to on the grass between them. When he spoke next, his voice was challenging; “I’d like to see you come up with a better one then.”

She huffed, casting her eyes up at the stars again. “There,” she said finally, pointing. “That one looks like a dragon.”

“Where?” There was excitement in his voice as he inched closer to her on the grass, his shoulder bumping roughy against hers.

“Over there,” she said, unable the keep from laughing as he squinted up at the sky.

“Okay,” he said after a moment. “I sort of see it.” He scanned the sky again, then grinned. “That one looks like Gabumon!”

“What? No way!”

They stayed like that for a long time, pointing out different shapes and debating with one another whether one group of stars looked more like a donkey or a lion; a saucepan or a bowler hat. And when they’d finally run out of inventive ideas, Steph felt a whole lot better about her situation.

Matt was right, no one was really at fault for their situation, all they could do now was do their best to look after one another while they searched for a way home. Together.

“Thanks, Matt,” she told him. “For … you know.”

He smiled, and this time, she knew it was genuine. “Anytime.”

They made their way back to the campsite where Tai and Agumon had taken first watch again, and thus far had avoided setting anything else on fire. The rest of their party had fallen asleep, except for Becky, who was curled up with Patamon and Salamon by the fire. Her cousin looked tired, but more importantly, she didn’t look angry anymore. Steph knew they’d both sleep better if they cleared the air.

“I’m sorry I made you come to camp with me this summer,” she said.

“S’ok,” Becky mumbled, stifling a yawn as she lifted the edge of the thin blanket for Steph to scoot underneath, careful not to disturb the two Digimon sleeping peacefully between them.

“It’s not,” Steph told her. “If you had stayed home, you wouldn’t have landed up stuck here along with me.”

Brown eyes stared resolutely back at her, confirming what she already knew; staying behind had never been an option for Becky. No matter how angry they were at one another, they didn’t leave each other behind. It made Steph feel all the guiltier for dragging them into this mess.

“I’m going to find a way for us to get home,” she said, her tone resolute. “And until I do, I’m going to keep you safe, no matter what it takes.”

[ashxketchum]

did you think there’s a chance i would let it pass when you let me know i can send more 🤤

then it’s ✨coming back for another kiss✨ (yoona and junho made me do this)

OKAY BESTIE BUCKLE UP because this definitely isn't a drabble 🤣

But my mind went = kdrama = karaoke = kvariety shows always giving the good singers a low score during karaoke themed games and this is what was born ✨

And since we're celebrating the comeback of the century today, I just knew I had to keep the setting musically inclined or else!! 😤

But tbvh, I have like a million different scenarios of Mimi, Yamato and a karaoke booth so this is just the tip of the iceberg, it sure would be nice to ✨visualise✨ them singing together once in a while.

Happy Reading ~

💙~~💚

Two pairs of eyes were sharply fixed on a tiny screen that hung on the wall in front of them. Currently, the display was swirling digits around to the noise of a drumroll and both the occupants of the dimly lit karaoke room stood with bated breath, waiting for the score to appear. Mimi clutched onto the mic in her hand as she followed the numbers rolling around on the screen diligently. She had already scored a 100 on her song performance so there was no need for her to worry so much unless her opponent too ended up getting the same score, which meant another intense face off and she couldn’t be sure if she’d manage to hit all the high notes once again. She sneaked a glance at Yamato from the corner of her eye. He too was holding onto his mic tightly, as if that itself would make him score full points. His brow was furrowed into a deep frown and his jaw was set sternly like this was a matter of life and death for him. Mimi had always known that he was very proud of his singing skills, which is why she hesitated to go up against him at first.

The two had run into each other at a record shop after school, coincidentally buying the same album. Yamato had raised a surprised eyebrow at seeing Mimi’s interest in this particular band but he didn’t make any condescending comments about it. While they waited in the payment line, Mimi decided to question him about his favourite songs by the band, and of course, that’s where the coincidence ended. All the songs that Mimi enjoyed were the ones Yamato disliked and vice versa so it didn’t take too long for their conversation to become heated. Eventually, it moved on from the topic of the band to their musical tastes in general and since they happened to cross a karaoke place on their way to the train station, Yamato suggested that they test out who’s better at singing by having a little match over their favourite songs by the band from before.

Mimi knew that for her singing was a hobby, not a skill she was trained in so it wouldn’t be wise for her to go up against Yamato, who had a few years of experience singing live. But he had looked so smug with that lopsided smile that he rarely showed, as if he’d won the contest even before it had begun. There was no other choice for Mimi but to accept his challenge, she was going to make him realise that her taste in music was just as good and just because he’d been in a band for a few years, he was no expert in the field of music.

From the minute they’d entered the karaoke room, the tension in the air had made her skin tingle but she managed to get a hold of her nerves as soon as she started to sing. She poured every bit of her energy into the song, she channelled the frustration she’d felt through the evening every time she couldn’t get the last word in during their argument because Yamato always had a dry remark up his sleeve, every time he managed to prove her statement wrong by quickly looking up the correct fact or just how annoyed he made her by following her around despite not agreeing to a single word she’d said all evening.

What did he even want from her, was the question that plagued her mind, if he thought her way of picking a good song was so wrong, then why didn’t he just leave her alone and go home? Mimi took every emotion from those bottled up questions and poured it into her song, which resulted in her scoring full points. She’d jumped up and down with excitement as Yamato sat there stunned, his mouth hanging open while he stared at the result on the screen. But the bewilderment only lasted a minute and he quickly pulled himself together, starting his own song right away.

When she heard him sing, the burst of joy she’d felt from scoring a 100 faded pretty quickly. But still, Mimi found it very hard to feel down while listening to Yamato’s voice, the smooth yet deep tone had a gravitational pull of its own that sucked her attention away from everything else and for the few minutes that his performance dominated the room, she even forgot all about their little contest.

But finally, he finished his song and very ambitiously turned to face the screen, awaiting his score. At that moment, Mimi too was able to break out of her trance and stand up from her seat to come to terms with whatever the final result of this competition would be. The karaoke machine did its little gig where it made all the numbers roll around the screen like a roulette and after a full minute of the useless dramatics, Yamato's score was displayed.

97.

Mimi blinked twice in confusion, then she rubbed her eyes and stared at the display again.

97.

“I won!” She screamed at the top of her lungs and began to jump again, this time almost high enough for her head to hit the ceiling.

Yamato stood still, his face a picture of utter disbelief as his eyes continued to look at the number displayed on the screen.

“I won! You lost! I’m a way better singer than you!” Mimi announced loudly and happily to a non-existent audience. The last bit must have hurt Yamato’s pride way more than the score itself because he quickly broke out of the stupor and glared daggers at her.

“This doesn’t prove you’re a better singer than me.”

“Of course it does, I got a full score-”

“Karaoke is very different from actual, live singing.” Yamato threw the mic he was holding onto the couch behind him, folding his arms across his chest defensively, “If we entered a real singing contest, I’m sure I’ll fare much better than you.”

“Sounds like something a loser would say,” Mimi said, bending down to put the mic in her hand on the table between them gently as any dignified winner would.

“I’m not a loser-”

“You scored less than me, the parameters for winning this contest that you decided on was a higher score, ergo, you are a loser.” It felt so satisfying to finally watch Yamato struggle to respond to her that Mimi let this little moment of giddiness take control over her completely. “And since the only reason you could’ve lost is because you didn’t sing as well as I did, that makes me a better singer than you.”

She watched as he attempted to think of a perfect response, he opened and closed his mouth a few times before grumbling incoherently to himself. The sight of him being at a loss for words should’ve been enough for Mimi, but somehow she kept craving more. It was only fair, she justified it to herself, Yamato had spent the entire evening getting on her nerves by being pompous, the least he could do to pay her back was show some humility for a change.

“Anyway since I am now the better singer out of the two of us-”

“You are not a better singer than me-”

“Denial isn’t a good thing, Yamato san, just admit that you lost to me and I am now a better singer than you.”

“Will you stop saying that?”

His loud voice did break Mimi’s confidence slightly but the sight of him looking absolutely livid because she’d won fair and square only made her feel more contented by the feat she had pulled off and she decided, that she wouldn’t stop talking about it till Yamato’s ears fell off from being tired of hearing it. So Mimi met his glare with a determined look of her own, her lips curving slyly upwards into a smirk as she folded her arms and challenged him with a raised eyebrow.

“Make me.”

The words sounded so simple to her then, she had no idea that they would lead to something so intense.

At first, Yamato's mood didn’t change but then she watched as his face softened and eyes widened, as if an idea had popped up in his head. He squared his shoulders and met her smug posture with a conceited smile of his own, “Try and say that one more time. I dare you.”

“I’m a way better sing-”

Mimi didn’t get any time to register what happened next.

Before she could finish her sentence, Yamato leaned across the table and cupped her chin in one hand, for a second he met her eyes, a mysterious glint flashed across his blue eyes telling her that this game, she had lost.

He pressed his lips against hers and Mimi felt her whole body freeze at his touch.

Her mind went blank as he gently caressed her lips with his own. It surprised her that despite the tension between them, he was still soft with his touch, slowly and delicately melting away the shock that had frozen her. Her toes curled inside her shoes when his hand moved above her chin and his palm pressed against her cheek, filling her with a kind of warmth that she had never felt before. At her side, Mimi felt her hands twitch, she wanted to reach forward with them and grab something, anything that would make sure that she would never lose the fuzzy feeling that had ignited in her chest, but after brushing his tongue against her lips once, Yamato suddenly pulled himself away.

The silence that settled over them was more deafening than Mimi’s performance from earlier.

She stood with her hands half raised, lips partially open and eyes still fluttered closed, ready to allow him to delve deeper into her. But as soon as the warmth disappeared from around her, Mimi’s eyes opened with a start. She looked at Yamato, who had now taken a step back, and saw that his face was as red as her skin felt, a hand had shot up to cover his mouth, which seemed like a feeble attempt to keep himself from kissing her again. She frowned as she noticed the confused look on his face like he couldn’t believe he’d just done something like that, he looked guilty and conflicted about what he should do next.

“I’m sorry Mimi, that was way out of line-”

But Mimi wasn’t listening to a word he’d said.

She could feel her skin ache for the warmth that Yamato had carried with his touch, she could feel her heart beat faster every moment she spent apart from him, she could feel the walls of the room closing in on her, the air wrapping itself around her body, begging her to go to him or else she’d be swallowed by the emptiness that surrounded her.

So she stepped onto the table as Yamato stared at her in bewilderment, he opened his mouth to say something again but Mimi had already made up her mind. She bent down and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt with both hands, bringing his face towards her so she could crash her lips against his.

Yamato didn’t push her away however, even if he had considered this a mistake a minute ago, as soon as Mimi’s lips touched his, he snaked an arm around her waist and lifted her off the table with ease, setting her down on the floor so he could bring her closer into him. She let go of his collar as soon as he pushed his tongue into her mouth through her lips, instead her hands raked through his silky hair, grabbing onto a few locks as Yamato tasted every inch of her mouth. While Mimi still felt her body heat up with delight the longer they stayed pressed up against one another, this kiss was nothing like the one they had shared earlier, it was filled with the need to know just how far they could take things before common sense took over.

And that was just another battle which neither Mimi nor Yamato was willing to lose.

💙~~💚

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

On Death’s Doorstep (pt 17/?)

[<<First],,,,[<Prev],[Next>] [ODD Masterlist]

Word Count: 1881

Rating: Teen

Pairings: none in this part (it’ll be Anxceit eventually I swear)

Warnings: past character death, dysfunctional family dynamics, probably minor swearing (let’s just assume there’s always some minor swearing in all of my works)

~~~START~~~

Sandman coming into their home without anything to obscure her identity had been a very interesting opportunity, one that Logan immediately took advantage of. Identifying her civilian identity would allow him to add some hopefully useful information into Logan’s currently poultry file on her.

(He hadn’t realized how beneficial it had been to have the government just handing out information on their heroes.)

So engrossed was he in his research that he’d had a few blissful hours where he’d completely forgotten the date. It wasn’t until he left his lab — with his still computer running Sandman’s image through all the databases available to him — and checked his phone that reality hit him.

Today was six years to the day.

Any plans of sleeping were immediately thrown out the window — figuratively of course, as his basement lair had no windows, and plans could not be physically thrown (unless they were written down somewhere) — in favor of making himself presentable. He had someone to meet after all, and with the sun already high in the sky, he ran a serious risk of being late.

After a quick shower, Logan pulled his nicest suit out of his closet. He bought it six years ago and only ever wore it on this date.

He checked himself in the mirror one final time before heading out the door.

At least, he meant to head out the door, but as was their habit — or so it seemed — Janus was waiting for him in his living room.

“I do not require your assistance, Janus,” Logan told them curtly, hoping to curtail their argument before they made it.

“At least let me drive you.”

“Thank you, no. I am quite capable of driving myself.”

“Are you?” Even as they spoke, Logan saw the regret wash over their face.

But it was too late. What was said was said; there was no taking it back now.

All of Logan’s walls flew up as he fought to keep his temper in check.

“Get out,” he hissed. “No, on second thought, stay here, make yourself at home. I am leaving, do not attempt to follow me.”

“I’m sorry, Logan,” Janus whispered, remaining completely still as Logan brushed past them. “I didn’t–”

“I do not care. Leave me alone.” He slammed the door behind him in an attempt to dispel some of his anger before he got behind the wheel of a motor vehicle.

How dare they! The gall! The absolute gall!

Somewhere below him, a door opened as he stormed down the stairs, and by the time he reached the third-floor landing, a small child was waiting excitedly.

“Hi!” Patton smiled up at him as he used the doorframe to swing himself back and forth. His glasses suited his face well, the wide frames making his eyes seem even bigger than they already were, and were very blue as promised.

Instantly, the anger drained from Logan’s body, and he felt a small smile grace his lips.

“Good morning, Patton, I hope you aren’t getting into trouble already.”

“Pat!” Knightcaster called from inside the apartment as Patton’s face turned contrite.

Knightcaster appeared behind the child and wrapped an arm around his chest, clearly intending to pull him out of the door frame back into the apartment. As he did, however, a blaring alarm went off, causing both the hero and his son to cover their ears.

“Sorry!” Knightcaster yelped as Logan shut off the alarm from his phone.

“It is not a problem,” Logan assured him as Patton took a step back, fully in the apartment once more. “Truly, do not worry about it. I do, however, have a very important meeting to get to, so if you will excuse me. Goodbye Patton, goodbye Kn– Virgil.”

“Bye bye!” He heard Patton call behind him as he continued on down to the garage.

It wasn’t until he was adjusting the mirrors in his civilian car that he realized that he’d left his goggles in his own apartment in his haste to get away from Janus.

~~~

He arrived at the cemetery five minutes early, intending to get there first.

Of course, great minds think alike, so there was already a woman waiting for him in front of the gates by the time he arrived.

“Logan,” the woman greeted shortly, scanning Logan up and down for any perceived imperfections.

“Mother,” Logan responded curtly, eyeing her in a similar fashion.

Barbra Picani-Crofter was slightly older than the last time he’d seen her — last year — but she looked healthy for her age. He imagined that she still went out on hikes and attended fitness classes at her local community center.

Logan offered his arm, and the two of them made their way through the rows and rows of headstones before finally stopping.

“Hello, darling,” Barbra smiled sadly at the headstone before them. She laid out the blanket she’d brought with her and carefully sat on the ground, facing the headstone.

Emile Picani  Beloved Son, Brother, Friend  “Ohana means Family, and Family means no one gets left behind, or forgotten” 

Logan remained standing, standing just behind his mother so that she wouldn’t notice the tears that sprang to his eyes.

Six years ago today, Emile Picani died in a car crash, and his brother Logan had been completely unable to save him. He’d been twenty-two.

Barbra told Emile all about her year; all of the things she’d done, the hot gossip from the community center, the volunteer work she’d done at the animal shelter.

Logan knew it was all for his benefit. His mother visited Emile often, but she only saw Logan once a year. Neither of them were too pleased with this arrangement, but his mother disapproved of his hobbies, and Logan wasn’t willing to give them up until he’d achieved his goal.

He was so close, if only she would just understand!

“–and of course, that poor young man, Atlas, died a few weeks ago. It’s so sad how young people seem to be dying nowadays.”

“I wouldn’t be too broken up about it,” Logan quipped, his mind turning back to Knightcaster — bloody and unconscious on Janus’s couch — before he quickly stuffed that thought down.

His mother turned sharply, concern clear on her face, but Logan resolutely turned the 3D flower box around in his mind, focused solely on the shifting colors and shapes.

His mother eyed him for another moment before turning back to Emile.

“I don’t need to know,” she decided. “But I will take your word for it. Still though, Knightcaster seemed like a nice boy, I hope he’s doing well; people are saying that he retired, you know.”

Logan rolled his eyes at his mother’s obvious tactics. She was probing for more information, hoping that Logan’s mind would betray him, but Logan had grown up around his mother’s clairvoyancy, he knew how to avoid it.

“You know,” Barbra said after a few more probing comments. “You’re the only person I know who can effectively subvert telepathy, and it’s with Windows 95 screensavers of all things.” She shook her head fondly. “My little brainiac, my how you’ve grown.”

“I am not a child, mother.”

“No,” Barbra agreed sadly. “You lost all of your innocence quite some time ago. Still though,” she reaches out to brush one hand along the top of Emile’s headstone affectionately, “you have that childhood stubbornness.”

Logan said nothing.

“It’s going to start raining soon,” Barbra observed, still gazing at Emile’s grave. “We should get going. Take your dear old mother out to lunch?”

~~~

The restaurant they went to was fairly empty. The lunch rush had ended, allowing Logan and his mother to have a little bit of privacy.

“Logan,” Barbra started after the waiter had taken their order. “I know we don’t talk about your… activities, but I have something I want to say. Something I have been thinking about for quite some time.”

“Mother, you have already expressed your desires for me to pursue an alternative course, I do not see–”

“That's not what I wanted to talk about… exactly. No, Logan I am getting old; I have lived a good life and I love you dearly, but I have lost two husbands and one son. What I’m saying is: when my time comes, let me go. Please.”

“Are you sick?” Logan asked, concerned. “Have you seen–”

“No, no. Nothing like that, dear, don’t worry. But I’m not as young as I used to be, and if something should happen before next year, I just want you to know. Don’t make me one of your experiments, Logan; just let me go.”

Logan didn’t answer. Thoughts were churning through his head at a rapid pace, and for once he didn’t care that his mother could hear them.

“But you are not sick?” Is what he finally landed on. That was the important part.

“No,” Barbra assured him, patting his hand comfortingly. “But you know that my vision is limited.”

Logan nodded.

Mortality was something he had contemplated quite a bit in his life. His father had died when he was seven, and soon after that was when he discovered his animation powers. Then Emile died when Logan was thirty-eight with Emile’s father — Logan’s step-father — dying shortly after; that had started Logan down his current path. His animation powers on their own hadn’t been enough to bring Emile back for any significant amount of time, they weren’t enough to truly defy mortality, he had to do better.

Still though, through it all, he hadn’t given much thought to his mother dying. For years she’d been as steady rock; when Logan’s father died, she worked twice as hard to give Logan a good life, and when Emile died in the middle of her second husband’s chemo treatments, she’d managed to plan the whole funeral herself, and when her second husband’s cancer won, she still picked herself off the ground and kept going.

She couldn’t die.

Barbra smiled sadly, seeing the thoughts as they circled through Logan’s head. “You can’t spend all your time being so afraid of death,” she told him. “Even if you cheat him for a while, he always comes to collect in the end.”

Watch me, Logan thought defiantly.

~~~

Janus was waiting for him in the parking garage when he finally returned home.

“Logan,” they started as soon as he was out of his car. “I’m so sor–”

“Not now, Janus,” Logan brushed past them, intending to head down to his lab. “Your apology is noted, but I have other matters that I must attend to just now.”

“When was the last time you slept?” Janus asked, following him down the stairs.

“Goodbye, Janus.” Logan slammed the door to his lab shut before they could follow him in.

Janus didn’t approve of Logan’s experiments either, he didn’t need to be clairvoyant like his mother to know that. What did either of them know? Logan was close, dammit! What his mother and Janus thought didn’t matter.

His intention had been to run through the data from his last test and maybe set up for a new one, but he got distracted by a message from his computer.

Identity Match

His experiments could wait. It was time to find out Sandman’s secret identity.

Oh… well that does complicate things, doesn’t it?

~~~END~~~

Great, Emile’s dead and now no one can get the therapy they all so desperately need 🙃

I swear Virgil’s the main character in this fic…

ODD taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @knight-shives @misunderstood-shadowling @lost-in-thought-20 @remy-the-lemon-berry @jinxcrafter @apinkline2715 @gothfoxx @donutsarepartybagels @xoaningout @meganmoneky14

[awkwardgtace]

If it's not too late, prompt 10 sounds hilarious for seer and the gods au 😂

ty for the prompt. It was very much not too late!! I don't know if this is quite what you pictured, but it's the first thing I thought of and couldn't consider anything else!

Naughtiest and Nicest

Delphia could barely keep her eyes open as she returned to the gods’ realm. This time of year had turned into a constant stream of visions. People making risky choices out of a rush to be with their families. It seemed like each time she closed her eyes another vision occurred. As soon as the light faded from the door she thought for sure she’d been sent another vision. 

In front of her Vincent was sitting with his back against her door and his head in his hands. He never came to the gods’ realm, he hated it there. She waited for something to happen, the vision to move forward. Instead she just sat there in silence with Vincent barely moving. He kept his head down, grabbing at something she couldn’t before snapping his head up to face her.

“You’re back,” he said. She’d never heard him scared like this. “You need to fix this. Rhys wanted me to explain the holidays and I started explaining the whole guy who watches everything with lists.”

“They think it’s Vitus right?” she asked. It made sense in a way to her. The descriptions she heard of the one Vincent meant, white hair and kind at least, matched the god of life. The other descriptors not so much, he did keep a list though.

“At first, I told them it was someone else when they asked.” He stood up placing a hand on the door. “Then I told them it was a naughty or nice list. Now…”

Vincent pulled open the door and she could hear the rumbling voices of the gods.

“I’ve already made it clear,” Felix said. Delphia frowned, she knew the tone he was using. Blaming himself for things out of his control. “Clearly the one at the top of this naughty list would be me. The desperation for prosperity drives mortals to cruelty.”

Delphia sighed, Vincent had already grabbed her arm and started out the door. She didn’t know how to fix it. The naughty list would probably have them all spiraling in some manner.

“Ash… I think I’d be on that list,” she heard Alessia’s melodic voice echo through the hall. “I keep hoping our seer would spend less time with the mortals… I’ve been selfish.”

“Vincent, how long has this been going on?” Delphia asked. She stopped following him, making him stop too. 

“I’m not sure, time here is weird. I don’t even know how long it’s been since Rhys brought me here,” he sighed. She could hear the annoyance in his voice, but there was a bit of fear in how his hand tightened. It didn’t matter how much she and Rhys promised the gods were kind, Vincent stayed nervous.

“Wars are held because of me!” Ryder shouted. She didn’t think anyone else noticed the slight tremor in his voice. He hated everything about his domain. “Mortals kill each other endlessly, many seek glory through it!”

Vincent took that as the sign to get them moving again. She followed along, picturing Ash’s face as they tried to convince Alessia she wasn’t bad. They rounded the corner, finding Ash and Alessia standing near the entrance closest to them. Sola and Luna were standing between the two gods. It was the first time in a long time she felt intimidated walking up to them.

“Wouldn’t that mean Lady Death is on that list?” Luna’s quiet voice shocked her. It was clear he’d been crying, but there was nothing she could think of as why. Unless he thought he’d be on the list from scaring others… “She’s so nice she doesn’t belong there.”

“Of course not,” Ash placed a hand on Luna’s head as they spoke. “She guides others; she and Lord Life would be on the nice list Vincent mentioned. Tied at the top with the little flower.”

Delphia paused just next to the gods. All of them were focused on the argument she and Vincent went ignored. Vincent brought her to the stairs leading to one of the counters and sat just within the shelter it provided. He didn’t quite let her walk out, but she did look back at the four gods closest to her. Sola was grabbing at Ash’s other hand. The child-like goddess seemed pained.

“Am I naughty for sneaking out to watch mortals and draw in the clouds?” she whispered. Delphia knew the others had missed it, but Ash’s smile and shake of their head relieved her. 

“If selfish actions put someone on that list I’m clearly the one at the top.” Felix’s voice was almost convincing. “There are countless selfish actions done in the name of prosperity.”

“Enough!” Rhys’s shout made her cover her ears. Vincent stood and pulled her behind him. Something made her think she’d seen the more volatile emotions of the god of love, it wasn’t easy to witness. “If you want to argue who’s the worst it would be me. The emotions mortals feel are what causes wars, cruelty, selfishness and anything else you can think of. I'm at the top of that list.”

It turned into all of them talking at once. It was hard to make out the words with how loud their voices were. Vincent started to push her back, clearly second guessing his choice to bring her here. Delphia moved forward watching the argument unfold. Only to think of the children from the village she’d been visiting.

The longer the argument went on the more she was reminded of the children. Shouts of who was nicest, who had done the most selfless things. A smile crept onto her face. After only a few seconds she started to giggle, then it turned into full on laughter. The room slowly fell silent as she laughed. Vincent had stood up to block her almost completely from view. She just couldn’t stop laughing.

“You’re arguing like children,” she breathed. She heard Felix huff and Ryder gasp, but everyone else was still silent. “They usually argue over who was nicest, but it’s the same thing.”

“Del,” Vincent whispered. She knew he was worried, but if he’d seen the groups of children she had he’d be laughing too.

“Little warrior?” Ryder asked. She looked towards where the god of war had been standing with Felix. He came closer than she expected, but it didn’t bother her. She stepped out around Vincent, a squeeze on his arm to promise she’d be alright.

Ryder set his palm flat on the table. His eyes were shining, he’d likely been holding back tears. She climbed on without hesitation, her laughter slowly dying. He lifted her up to his face, the fingers taller than her curling over her. She leaned against the closest finger, the exhaustion she pushed away resurfacing.

“There’s no top of either list. It’s just meant to encourage kindness,” she sighed. The fingers around her tensed. As quickly as they tensed they flattened, Ash’s palm held out where she could walk over to it. She stood and walked slowly, pausing just before stepping onto their palm. “I do have an idea, if you want to follow holiday traditions and give a gift to those you all put on the nice list that is.”

The eyes of every god locked on her. She smiled as she met each pair. She didn’t miss Vincent now sitting securely in Rhys’s palm too. There was no telling whether the others would follow her idea, but she’d give it a shot. The worst case she’d help them all do something to celebrate the holiday. Vincent knew more and could help too.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dabria walked out of her office following behind Vitus. Her little raven had asked them to go with her to the kitchen, she asked for things so rarely they couldn’t say no. Vitus kept glancing at her as though she’d know what was going on. He’d be the one they go to for surprises, if they weren’t too nervous it would anger them. As they walked the sky gods ran up to them. Luna grabbed Vitus’s free hand while Sola grabbed on to her. They continued walking as the two fell into step with them.

“D-Dabria,” Sola started, she gasped hearing her own name from the young god, “will you draw in the clouds with me today?”

“Of course,” she smiled. 

“V-Vitus!” Luna squeaked. She watched the god of life stiffen, unsure how to act from hearing his own name. “Will you help me write down more of the stars’ stories later?”

“Yes,” Vitus said warmly. 

The twin gods ran off, but before they could say anything Rhys appeared just before they took the turn towards the kitchen. 

“Vitus, Dabria, Vincent said he’s ready to meet the two of you, maybe over the next few days?” Rhys said. She sent a look towards her little raven, the smile on the mortal woman’s face a clear tell she knew the cause of the sudden change. Vitus just kept a wide eyed look on Rhys.

“Whenever he’s ready… Rhys,” Vitus seemed unsure how to respond. Honestly Dabria was as well. Felix and Ryder were quick to replace the god of love as he disappeared in a flurry of petals.

“Dabria, if you have more designs there is a mortal I believe would be receptive,” Felix said as he passed by. She just nodded at him.

“Vitus, have you considered my offer of chess?” Ryder asked.

“Maybe after I write the stories with Luna.”

The two gods walked off, Dabria grabbed Vitus and stared down at her little raven in his hand. She slipped two fingers under Delphia’s arms, the human woman helped with the movement. The small thin arms tightly pressed against Dabria’s fingers reminded her that she was trusted. She brought her raven up to sit in her palm, curling her fingers around the small woman.

“What did you do?” she asked. Vitus hummed, he was catching on now. The smile of the human in her palm didn’t falter at all. Delphia climbed to her feet, the small movements still shocked her.

“Nothing at all,” she grinned.

“I doubt that,” Vitus chuckled. Delphia just tapped her fingers, clearly wanting them to keep moving. It was almost tempting to refuse, to hold the little raven close until she found out. 

Dabria started walking. She wouldn’t do that, she promised never to make her raven feel trapped. She did hold the little human pressed against her heart though. Vitus slipped his hand into her free one, lacing their fingers together. As they finally reached the kitchen Ash and Alessia were sitting there. She smiled at the two before Alessia jumped up and approached them.

“Dabria, Vitus, have you seen the little seer?” she asked. Dabria flattened her hand, holding back a pout as Alessia took her raven. Ash walked up, a soft smile on their face.

“We plan to be in the mortal realm today… Vitus, Dabria.” Ash nodded and the two disappeared in a flash of lightning and brilliant light.

“I don’t know what she did, but… I’d be happy if this continues,” Dabria said. Vitus wrapped an arm around her pulling her close.

“I would be too,” Vitus whispered.

[basketcaseeeeee]

The Anniversary Effect. Chapter 2: The car ride.

Warnings: SH, emotional abuse, cheating, mentions of blood, suicide, scaring, trauma, ptsd, angst. So much angst. I think that's it. If there's anymore, please let me know!

Summary: you and your boyfriends relationship was falling apart. One mistaken night, you slept with of his best friends of 10 years. Trying to work through this, your friend group threw a party to try to get back everything back to "normal." Brush everything under the rug. That night, that rug got pulled right from under you. You felt something was coming. Floating around in the background. The uneasiness, growing anxiety. They say the body knows before the mind. You felt something was coming. Floating around in the background. The uneasiness, growing anxiety. They say the body knows before the mind.

You barely slipped into the passenger seat before your boyfriend, Jerrin, was already speeding out of the parking lot. Making your door slam shut in the process. Here we go you think to yourself. He's gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. You know what's coming. The beratement, name calling, the yelling.

"You're a fucking piece of work you know that? The one thing I told you to do, the one thing that everyone told you to do, and you couldn't even do that! How fucking hard is it to follow one simple direction given straight to you huh?! Are you that fucking stupid?! I told you to stay the fuck away from! Are you that dumb of a bitch? Fucking answer me!" Holding back your tears, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, again. You choose anger instead of sadness this time to reply. " Fuck you! I didn't tell him to come outside! I hadn't spoken to him all night until that moment, Jerrin! I was outside alone until he stepped out to smoke. This isn't my fault!" "It's never your fault is it?! Shit just happens around you, right? Everyone else is to blame for poor ol you and your misfortune. You just have bad luck, right? Cursed or whatever? Did you ever think that you're the problem?! Anything bad happens, you're always somewhere involved. Your dad was right. You destroy everything you touch. Anything that happens to cross paths with you, you fuck up and destroy!" "HEY! Stop that shit right now!" Eddie yells from the backseat. "I know you're pissed man, but don't bring her dad into it. You and I both know that's a low blow." Jerrin just scoffs "fine, I'll leave that alone but otherwise, you stay out of this if you know what's good for you."

Eddie knew all about your dad, so did Jerrin. He was emotionally abusive. Always calling you names. Nothing you did was ever good enough for him. Both parents always compared you to your siblings. Being the middle child wasn't easy. They never noticed you unless you fucked up somehow. Made a mess of things. And when they did take notice of a accomplishment you achieved, it was always why can't you smart enough like so and so? Why can't you be as athletic, driven, or talented? You never felt good enough and Eddie knew this. He'd been there for you through it all. Him being your best friend since the 3rd grade, saw how your parents treated you. How your home life was messy. His was too. You only had each other to lean on, for comfort, for any sort of resemblance of stability, safety. You were each others lifeline and you made sure to stay that way well into adulthood. Sticking by each other no matter what. Full on honesty, no matter how hard it was to tell each other. That was the number one rule between you. Of course you didn't always agree with the others life choices. The occasional arguments would ensue due to your honesty policy with each other but you'd always appreciate it in the end. Honestly, it annoyed people how close you were, especially when it came to dating, but you didn't care. He was your family, the only family you ever needed, even if there was no blood relation.

"Don't you threaten him." Your tone low surprises everyone in the car, including yourself. Letting out a crazed cackle Jerrin turns to you "I should have known. It was always there, right in my goddamn face the whole time." Rolling your eyes "known what?" You huff already suspecting what he was getting at. "You're fucking him too, huh?" Now letting out your own laughter, pinching your forehead taking a deep breath before replying "you're fucking kidding me right? I'm such a slut now that im fucking everyone? It that it is? You can't seriously..." He cuts you off by slamming him hand against the dashboard "DON'T FUCKING LIE TO ME! I know exactly how you are and yes, you are a slut. A fucking whore, actually. That why you insisted on Eddie living with us? Just couldn't be with out his dick huh? And when you couldn't get his or want mine, you fucked one of my oldest friends Sean huh? Is that it? I bet he's fucked you real good didn't he?" "Shut the fuck up man!" Eddie interjects. Jerrin just laughs as he turns to you. Tears begging to fall, he cups your chin to look at him faking his sincerity with the gesture. "Think your fuck buddy is getting angry back there. Oh, you gonna cry now? God, you so fucking pathetic sometimes." Shoving his hand away "fuck you, Jerrin! The only one who's pathetic here is you. You goddamn piece of shit! Just leave me alone." He just laughs again. As if any of this is humorous. The rest of the ride home is silent. Finally pulling up to your apartment, you practically jump out of the car bolting through your front door to your room. You know, it's only going to get worse from here.

@i-me-mine

[bluejay-writes]

A sort of Fairy Tail - Chapter 8

Rating: T / PG-13, SFW. Fandom: Mystic Messenger Relationships: 707/MC (Jaena)/Saeran Chapter 8 Wordcount: 2945 Summary:

Freelance Hacker by day, cosplayer by weekend, Jaena Grey was living her best life. One fateful convention, she meets a scarily talented fellow costumer and his friend Zen.

When Jaena finds herself embroiled in the usual Mint Eye apartment plot, Seven panics to see someone he knows. Hijinks ensue, including Jaena spending the majority of her time cosplaying as 707 in his own bunker to hide herself from Vanderwood - for better or worse.

You can also read this on AO3! <- Also a good place to check tags.

Chapter 8: Storytime

“Scarlet!” Seven called, and then his arms were around her, his body slamming into her as the sound of the gun firing filled her ears.

“V, what the fuck?” Saeran all-but-screamed. “You know how important she is to the Savior’s plan!”

“She stopped being important the moment she left the apartment, Ray, and you know that.”

Scarlet’s head was ringing. Who was Ray? Was Saeran Ray? They’d called him that earlier…  She barely heard his next argument past Seven’s hiss of pain.

“But I chose her.”

Jaena reached out and helped Seven sit up, and blinked. Her hand was wet. Why was— Fuck. Seven’s bleeding. It had been years since she’d had to deal with anything more than routine blood. A gunshot wound… it wasn’t going to be good.  But he was going to be alright, because he was still protecting her, even though he was injured. That meant he had to be fine, right?

As she was thinking that, the sound of tires on the gravel alerted her to the arrival of a car, followed quickly by Vanderwood’s voice. “Zero Seven, Red!” Jaena met his eyes over Seven’s shoulder, and didn’t like the look on his face. She was never going to hear the end of this, she knew, but she couldn’t even bring herself to say words. She was terrified. This was why she was a hacker, damn it, not some kind of secret agent. She wasn’t cut out for this kind of drama.

Saeran was taking all of V’s attention with his argument, but it wouldn’t be long before others came because of the sound of the gunshot. Jaena stood while Vanderwood was helping Seven up, and when he barked at her to get into the car, she climbed into the back where she had been, and then helped him get Seven in and buckled. Seven looked practically gray, his teeth grit in pain. She opened her mouth to say something just in time to see Saeran punch V in the face, and turn worriedly to the car.

“Twin, get in the damn car.” Vanderwood called, and Saeran obeyed, slipping into the passenger seat and pulling the door shut as Vanderwood stepped on the gas. Jaena turned to look out the back window just in time to see a woman with blonde hair run out the front door, gun in hand.

“Duck.” Vanderwood said, and she did as she was told, one hand on Seven’s head out of reflex as several shots pinged off the body of the car.

“I thought bullets would go through a car body.” Jaena said, suddenly questioning what she knew about vehicle manufacture.

“They will, unless it’s armored.” Seven muttered. “Why else are we in Vanderwood’s car?” He practically fell over onto her lap as they sped out of range of the shooter. “I’m just gonna lay here, ok?”

“Of course it’s okay, silly.” Jaena pet his head, and turned to look at his injury. The bullet had hit his arm, just grazing along from the middle of his forearm to his elbow. It looked really painful, but not life-threatening.

“Hey, Vandy?” Jaena asked quietly. “When can we get Seven some help for this?”

“I’ve got a spot relatively nearby we’ll go hole up.” Vanderwood said, his voice tight. “I’ve got first aid supplies there.”

The cabin was a simple thing, on a lake. It would have been an ideal little mountain getaway if one was looking for something like that. In their case it was clean, neat, and modern enough to not cause any inconveniences. Vanderwood had Jaena heat up water while he got Seven sat up on the kitchen counter and the rest of the first aid supplies prepared. Seven looked tired, and Jaena winced as Vanderwood cut away the sleeve of Seven’s hoodie.  She knew he had backups, but it was a little like cutting away his identity.

“This is going to be a bit rough for you.” Vanderwood said to her, as he helped Seven out of the ruined garments. “You should go lay down for a bit. Eat a snack. You’re looking a bit pale.”

Jaena just shook her head. Clearly her willingness to follow directions without question evaporated with the immediate danger. “No. He got hurt saving me. The least I can do is be here to help.”

“Cute, but unnecessary.” Vanderwood said. “He’ll be fine. Go lay down.”

“I said no.” Jaena said, moving around to the other side of Seven and taking his free hand. She was definitely not eyeing the muscles that had been hiding under his habit of wearing baggy clothes. Nope. Definitely not.

Seven sighed. “He wants to yell at me.” he said, catching Jaena’s eye. “I shouldn’t have gotten hurt. I let my guard down too soon.”

“Oh, so you’re aware that you fucked up? Good.” Vanderwood said, sighing. “Look, Red, you can stay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Where’s Saeran?” Seven asked suddenly turning to look for his twin.

“Right here.” Saeran said, stepping into the kitchen. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I haven’t anywhere else to go at this point anyway.”

Vanderwood started cleaning Seven’s wound, and Jaena felt him squeeze her hand, and was instantly glad she hadn’t left him alone. Sure, she was hyper-aware of how his hand felt in hers given that he was half naked next to her, but it was worth it.

“Hey Unknown.” Jaena said, catching his eye and watching his eyes harden in reaction. “How about you tell us your story. We know Seven’s. We’d love to hear what actually happened to you, since we know that everything they told Seven was fake. Or I would, at least. Shouldn’t talk for them.”

Saeran paused, looked at the set of Seven’s jaw, and then sighed. “Fine. But… don’t interrupt me.”

Jaena nodded and mimed zipping her lips closed.

“You either, twin.”

“I won’t. I -ow- I promise.” Seven said, wincing.

Saeran nodded, and started talking. Quiet at first, but with more intensity as he went on.

“It was at least a week after you were gone. Mother… she started making me do the errands you were supposed to do. She was certain you were dead.  I was out of the house one morning to go pick something up for her, and I was kidnapped.  They put a bag over my head, and knocked me out - when I woke up, I was in the dungeons in the basement of Magenta. I haven’t left the grounds except for very specific missions since. Getting the princess to the apartment was the first time I was ever given my own time to handle something outside of Magenta, and well, you can see how well that turned out.”

Jaena felt the impulse to tell him he’d done a good job getting her to go where he wanted, that it wasn’t his fault, but she’d promised not to interrupt, and the commentary wasn’t worth breaking her word. Saeran shook his head as if to clear the cobwebs, and continued.

“Anyway, I begged and begged to be let go, because I knew if I was late getting home Mother would be unhappy. But instead, they fed me a drug. They called it a “Cleansing.” All I know is it tasted how I expected battery acid would taste, and burned, I felt like I was burning up from the inside out. They kept telling me it was paradise, that I would be happy there, made new. Eventually Rika and V showed up, and they told me all about how you’d abandoned me, and that they were going to take care of me now, and that I’d be safe with them. I wasn’t, though, and it was… not a place I would willingly bring a child, ever.”

There was a hissing sound, and Jaena looked over to where Vanderwood was spraying something on the wound, and she recognized it as a topical anesthetic. The wound needed stitches then, looked like. She took a glance at Seven, but he was focused entirely on his twin. Saeran, of course, was continuing his story.

“V taught me how to hack, told me he was going to turn me into a better hacker than you ever were. Rika told me over and over again how you abandoned me.  For a long time, they fed me that drug every day. They told me it was something I needed to be strong, and I believed them, because I had always been the weaker of the two of us. I always needed you to protect me. I don’t know if it was because of the drug, but losing you like that broke something in me.  It separated the me that was hurt and sad from the me that had to deal with the world every day.  I wasn’t any stronger, but I was different. That was about the time they introduced me to the rest of Mint Eye, as their son Ray. I knew it wasn’t right, but I was so desperate to be loved and accepted that I just took that in as part of me. This new me, this new face, I was Ray, and Saeran was the broken one that stayed hidden in my mind. It… kept happening. I lost track of time a lot, and I wasn’t the hacker they wanted me to be.  Eventually they stopped giving me the drug, but it was too late then. I didn’t even recognize myself in the mirror, my hair is this white mess now, and my eyes… I feel like I don’t even deserve to be called your twin anymore.”

Seven opened his mouth as if to argue, and shut it. They’d promised not to interrupt, and Seven took his promises seriously. Jaena thought he probably could have gotten away with it just this once, but she respected his resolve.

“After that, I got better, and they took me seriously. When I asked about the ‘medicine’ they told me that I was strong now and didn’t need it. I didn’t feel strong all the time. In fact, Ray didn’t feel strong at all. He felt like a pathetic airhead, and even I couldn’t talk him out of it. For his part, core Saeran just stayed inside and thought about all the bad things that happened so that none of the rest of us needed to. Unknown… he does the things the rest of us don’t want to deal with. Like core Saeran but outward facing. And then there’s me, regular old Saeran. The one you expect to talk to, I guess.”

“Multiple Personalities?” Vanderwood said, a needle between his teeth making his words slightly muffled. Jaena turned a glare on him, but he didn’t look at her, and just as fast she realized that Vanderwood never promised not to interrupt. She smirked.

“Yeah I guess? The internet says it’s DID. Dissociative Identity Disorder. I just know there’s more than one of me in here at this point, and we trade off who’s in charge of the meat. And… we really only happened when things were especially bad.  I think Rika knew she broke me, because she kept trying to do things that would ‘fix’ me. Put me back together into just one Saeran.  That’s just not going to happen, though. It’d hurt more than it would help at this point. That’s what I was dealing with just before you all arrived.”

Well, that explains what he said when I mentioned the whole Unknown vibe being different. Jaena thought. He didn’t need her peanut gallery commentary, though, so she kept her mouth shut.

“So, I started questioning their plans. Not out loud, of course, I wasn’t suicidal. One day, I was going through Rika’s files, and found a lot of incoming money and no record of where it was going. I knew we were targeting rich people for a reason, but not why, other than usual cult bullshit.” He paused. “Yes, I am aware Mint Eye is a cult. Moving on. Later I found out that money was going to pay off our father so he would leave the both of us alone. It’s how I learned they knew where you were and were keeping it from me. Any time I asked if they’d found you, they just said that you’d abandoned me and I needed to stop looking. Clearly, that was a lie, especially when they had me start looking into the RFA, in order to get the party guests into Mint Eye. Then came getting the information out of the apartment. I said I could just go, but they said no, this was a test of my skills, that I needed to get an outsider into the RFA so they’d host parties again, and we’d get more guests that way, too.”

Saeran caught her eye, but looked away, a light blush coloring his cheeks.

“They told me to choose carefully, because whoever I chose would be mine after the plan was finished. And even after everything, I just wanted someone to actually care about me so badly, I never really considered what I was doing. And then there you were, Jaena. Perfect for so many reasons. I hope you can forgive me for dragging you into this.”

Jaena nodded. “I’ll work on it. It’s definitely a lot, and I don’t like being thought of as an object, but I’ll try.”

Saeran visibly relaxed at that, and Jaena realized just how much her opinion mattered to him, but also just how much his comfort in this situation mattered to Seven, and if she were being honest, to her.

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you all this, but he was spitting truth the entire time.” Vanderwood said, closing the first aid kit with a snap. “Zero Seven, you’re done. Go put on a shirt, we’ll get you into a sling, and then we need to get moving again.”

Seven squeezed her hand and then hopped off the counter. If he walked a little closer to her than he needed to as he passed by to go get a shirt from Vanderwood’s stash, well, she wasn’t complaining.

Vanderwood made himself scarce packing things up, and Jaena took the opportunity to walk over to Saeran, who was still leaning against the kitchen wall, staring at nothing.

“Hey, Unknown?” She said, when she walked up. He looked up at her. “I don’t hate you.” she said quietly. “I’m scared. A lot is happening, but I don’t blame you for doing what you needed to do to survive.  Can you try to extend a little bit of that trust to Seven, too?”

“Yeah. I can tell he’s… not what they told me. Which I should have guessed, given that everything else they’ve told me has been complete garbage.”

“Thank you. Um. Should I call you Saeran?”

“Please. I mean, he likes that you call out to him, but it’s less confusing if you just use our collective name.”

“Okay then. Do you want a hug? You look like you need a hug.”

Saeran nodded, and if his eyes looked a little misty, well, Jaena wasn’t about to comment on it. She stepped forward into his personal space, and wrapped her arms around him, smiling slightly as he held her tight for just a moment before releasing her so she could step back.

“Hey, I’m the injured one, do I get hugs?” Seven said from the other side of the kitchen, and Jaena turned, excited for an excuse to hug Seven, only to watch Saeran walk across the kitchen and carefully put his arms around his twin. She wanted to be jealous, but really, seeing them not at each other’s throats was just heartwarming.

Seeing Seven standing there in a sleeveless shirt seemed weird and wrong. Sure, she’d seen it other times, but this wasn’t even bedtime Seven, it was normal everyday Seven. Luckily, she had just the solution for this. Walking past the bonding twins, Jaena grabbed her bag from where she’d set it when they walked into the cabin, and dug down to the bottom. She’d done as she was told, and packed something warmer, since even summer nights in the mountains could get cool. Pulling it out, she snapped out the folds, gathering everyone’s attention at the sharp sound.

“Oh. Sorry for startling you, I just figured Seven might be a little cold with no sleeves, so…”

Seven’s eyes were damp. “You brought a spare hoodie? How? Why?”

“Well, Vanderwood told me to pack something warm just in case, so… I packed the hoodie of yours that I’d been wearing… I didn’t really have warm clothes otherwise…”

Suddenly, she felt awkward about all of it, but still held out the hoodie so Seven could slip his non-sling arm into the sleeve, and draped the other half over his shoulder.

“There. Now you’re my proper Seven again.”

Seven smiled, and seemed to relax, except that his cheeks were pink.

“Now, you get a hug from me, injured boy.”  She wrapped her arms around him, careful to avoid his injury, and squeezed. “Gonna tell me why you’re blushing?” she teased, whispering in his ear to avoid Vanderwood’s heckling.

“The hoodie smells like you.” Seven responded just as quietly. “I didn’t realize how nice you smelled, and now I’m surrounded by it. It’s like this hug will never end.”

“Okay, you two. Break it up and get back in the car. We’ve got ground to cover yet before we can sleep.” Vanderwood grumbled at them from the doorway.

As they made their way back to the car, Jaena was the one blushing.

Author's Note: As usual, all of my DID/Multiple Personalities knowledge is extrapolated from my experiences dealing with my younger sib who has DID.

[spacehead1127]

Internet Wars and Woke Culture

Hi again! It has been quite a while since I last wrote here. Not much for an introduction, I’ll jump straight to the topic today. 

Disclaimer once again! (if you've read my posts before, you can ignore this part) Whatever I say here is never intended to bring harm or to hurt anyone, and do take what I say with a grain of salt. I never intend to appear aggressive through text if that's what you see, and I sincerely apologise if I have done so to you. In the end, all I want is to spark some interesting and meaningful conversations with people on the Internet who have similar or opposing thoughts and opinions. Thank you! 

If you're interested to read on, please proceed, but if you're not, you can leave quietly and ignore this and enjoy your day/night, wherever you are :) 

This is PART 3 of my text-podcast thing: go to my blog to see more! 

This “episode” is kind of like a follow-up to my very first text-podcast episode which was about the internet and especially the comment sections and how people can be so aggressive towards strangers who have offended them on the internet. Here it is if you want to read it before continuing on this one. 

Like I said on that post, I usually don’t interact with comments even if it makes my blood boil at times or if it contradicts my thoughts since I realised it’s never worth my energy to (I’m a pacifist yes). Though for the sake of this blog, I’ll share what I think of certain topics of arguments from online comment sections. I’m not here to hurt anyone, but purely just here to express my thoughts and opinions on things, so please don’t let this offend you if it does. 

I’ll use Instagram comment sections as an example, yes it’s pretty much a burning pit of fire at times. I don’t use Twitter/X though, but from what I hear from people of how the community is there I can only imagine it being an apocalypse every second. Every single thing you post online, you’re going to get judged or verbally attacked for it somehow, it’s almost inevitable. I know cyberbullying is a whole nother topic, but I’m talking about the burning pit of fire that is the internet all the time—how people spit back their opinions and “shouting” insults at each other, without even knowing who they really are in real life. Humans are complicated, and we shouldn’t judge each other based on just one aspect of our personalities and spend hours being aggressive online that will benefit no one in the end. And I’m serious about this being an issue, because at this point the internet is straying further and further away from being a safe and friendly place for users of all ages. 

I really don’t want to be seen as an old lady yapping about how bad the internet is and seemingly only ever speaking negatively of it. (Without the internet how am I going to send this message to people in the world lol) (And without the internet, I wouldn’t be who I am today) Communication and community wise it can give you a sense of belonging to reach out to people across the other side of the world, and of course there comes disadvantages as well. Give this video a watch, it explains this concept further and better than I can: The Internet is Worse Than Ever – Now What?

Allow me to give an example. Recently I was scrolling through Instagram and I stumbled upon a comment with raging replies under it. The post was by Billie Eilish, where she was in the same picture with Lana del Rey in it. (Feel free to search for it under Billie’s profile, unless she has removed the post. I’ll be summarising the little internet quarrel here as how I read and interpreted it) Instantly there were about 20 over comments there (at first glance) all having the same meaning: “free Palestine”.  If you were a new internet user and wasn’t really caught up with the news the past year, you’d be confused how this was related to Billie Eilish and Lana del Rey. Honestly I actually haven’t had a clue about it either, until I scroll further down the comments, and what I caught was Billie claiming to be a pro-Palestine while Lana was a pro-Israel, or something along those lines. There was a comment that accused Billie of being a hypocrite for being with Lana, and that’s where I saw 30+ (and still growing) replies under that comment. That’s where the battle of Israel-Hamas replies come in, where people supporting the opposing sides come in. There was one that stood out to me though, saying that there was nothing wrong for Billie to get along with someone despite their political disagreements (as a pacifist I couldn’t agree with this more, I wouldn’t let petty personal beliefs get in the way of a valuable interaction with another human being or treating them like they’re anything less than). But to that the OP of the comment said it wasn’t about that, it was about Billie being a hypocrite apparently. And then the argument goes on with many many more replies either opposing the OP or alongside the OP. 

There’s two things I’d like to discuss about this. If I were to say this in that comment section or anywhere else, I would be cancelled for it lmao. (Low-key we have no real freedom in saying our opinions on the internet these days, but I understand there needs to be boundaries and respect to others of course) First I’d like to talk about the woke culture part of this Israel-Hamas situation—I do not want to be saying anything about the actual situation itself, I only ever want to send my prayers to the victims involved on both sides who never wanted this war and thousands of souls lost because of it. In this case of woke culture, I am talking about the people around the world and especially the people online who support either side and constantly attack the other side for not agreeing with them. Woke culture as it is, is when people support something just because it’s trendy, is a good look on them, or it just seems to be a nice way to be accepted into mainstream society, until it’s inconvenient for them to support the cause and they end up seeming like they never meant what they said about supporting it. (Please correct me if I’m wrong about this definition of woke culture, I’m currently relying on my understandings and certain examples I read from the internet) 

A little trigger warning in case you get easily triggered by words you read online, and if it contradicts your beliefs, I urge you to stay calm and do not rush to the comments and bash me for it, (thanks for your cooperation and for making it this far, really I appreciate it, your patience and attention span is outstanding). Personally I find these rights supporters (of any kind, really, but more in light of the Israel-Hamas ongoing war) I find it sad, because they sound so passionate for one side of the war and its victims and yet I doubt they’re willing to actually travel to that country and pick up a gun and fight for the side they support. They spit their facts about what they know about the war’s history, who’s right and who’s wrong, and argue with the other side of it. I’m tired of seeing people say things they don’t really mean. What happened to us? What I absolutely hate about this at its core is there’s more talking than doing (hence the “actually being there irl to fight for their people” statement earlier), and besides that they’re wasting their energy arguing with people they don’t know and adding more fuel to the fire instead of actually helping, supporting, solving the cause itself. Shout “I don’t support genocide” all you want, but I ask you this question, what are you going to do about it? Do you think the presidents of Israel or Palestine or whoever is at the helm of this war are listening to you? I don’t mean this in an aggressive or mean way, but in a caring mother way that—this side of the internet is sounding a lot more like a whiny baby throwing a tantrum about something that upset them. A baby that cries and complains about the problem but can’t get up themselves to do something about it. These people might live on the other side of the world, have their daily tasks to do and their own things to stress about, so would they really sacrifice their lives just for a cause they claim to support?

The second thing (which isn’t really a big thing) about this situation is that sometimes people just spam comments about “free Palestine” under celebrities’ posts which seems really out of place. You can raise your voice about what you believe is right, but is commenting on a random celebrity’s post about it the right place to do it? I know it’s to spread the message to other internet users instead, but it seems that it’s just building more trenches for comment section verbal wars. As the Kurzgesagt video that I linked above says, this way of being online has sort of broken us apart further because we kept clashing with internet users across the world who have opposing beliefs. If only we had a little platform where we only gather and grow as a like-minded community instead of inviting conflict all the time. 

I’m genuinely not here to blame anyone who has done any of the above before, I’m only expressing what I feel about the situation as a whole and not directing any anger to anyone. (And I’m also aware that the way the internet is, most of its users aren’t here to share their opinions—they only want their own opinions to come out of other people’s mouths. I assure you, that is not my goal in my blog and I’m only here to begin discussions and conversations here) If you’d like to express your opinion in the comments below, please do but keep your calm and don’t spread hate, please. I’d love to discuss anything in a civil manner if it helps me grow as a person. I may be wrong about all this, and maybe supporting campaigns and protests—maybe it is what it is, and nothing more. Sometimes I don’t have to find anything wrong with everything and rant about it lmao. (I’m literally contradicting myself but genuinely, I mean what I say. I’m not a 2-dimensional person with single-minded thoughts haha) 

Anyway, I think that’s it for the topic of this post. I feel like I’ve apologised a lot already in this post but I’ll say it again just in case, I really am sorry if you felt deeply offended or contradicted or emotionally hurt under this post. I’d thought of sharing this because I feel it’s maybe sort of an unpopular opinion out there in mainstream society, and, well, I only live this long so why not share something with the world and make my mark here? But most of all, if you’ve read this far, thank you so much from the bottom of my heart that you took your time to read this essay bomb lol. If you have any thoughts, please feel free to express them below so we can have a discussion! Thank you. 

Enjoy the rest of your day/night!! Peace and love ♡

[battylite]

I had initially hoped the AM discourse would help make the writing community on Twitter safer for everyone by disincentivizing the kind of white American grifter crybully culture that rewards outrage at art being morally impure, but now I think there is an effort underway to minimize AM's betrayal and protect exactly the kind of bullly grifter who was exposed. The pivoting started almost right away, before there was any proof the info was leaked by that N*zi site (there still isn't, though obviously they benefit and all doxxing is bad). Anyone disgusted by AM's privilege and hypocrisy was deemed transphobic and ableist, spreading info that came from KF and was thus radioactive, or cynically weaponizing the Global South even if they were in fact POC and/or from the Global South. I honestly think the crybullying is just getting worse from here. And I'm betting that the story will eventually pivot away from imperialism and hypocrisy entirely to this whole thing being a hitjob by Lauren Hough and Sandra Newman (who I am not defending in the least as I really do think that one book as transphobic af, plus Hough started many messes herself). Or maybe I'm seeing that angle on "book tea" accounts because no one takes AM seriously as a writer unless he comes up tangentially in reporting on the bad behaviour of "real" writers.

Twitter is a cannibalistic echo chamber because of the very nature of the form. It’s a symptom of the medium. You simply cannot engage in productive disagreement in 280 characters at a time. Threads don’t help. We’re just breeding radical reactionism and boiler pot politics, and by tying all of this into discussion about gender/sexuality, race, and mental/physical health, we’re worsening the identity attachment that comes with it—so of course there’s going to be some pendulum swing in the other direction regarding whether Ana Mardoll was wronged or not, but the speed at which his groupies Jesus-martyred the guy is insane. I agree that there is going to be some good PR and damage control following this. I don’t see these people having the self-respect to own up to the fact that their idol turned out to be a fraud. Surprisingly, I haven’t seen anyone screaming “cancel culture,” either.

The exposé is a consequence of their own code of ethics, too. They’ve been preaching that authors can’t explore topics like race and gender identity and sexuality in their work if they don’t identify with it personally for years. We’ve already seen the negative repercussions of this with Isabel Fall. It was only going to be so long before that turned into a dick-measuring contest between them and the Others. It just so happened that the person who got ousted was someone they idealized. I can’t stand the argument along the lines of, “Ana never pretended to be someone he isn’t,” referring to fact that he never brought up his work and had mentioned being married and then divorced online thereby implying he was not a teenager. It reflects the guilt back on the person Against Ana, instead of addressing the fact that creating a meticulous online brand in which you are such a victim that you cannot be put down any further is weird. There’s no shortage of adults acting like children online but to sell yourself like he did to interact with the people he did feels unsafe.

I’m not comfortable with the extent to which we’ve weaponized identity, where someone cannot be criticized because of their affiliation with a particular group, by choice or not. I am not pawing through your profile in search of your list of disabilities, your life story, and your pronouns before I reply to your Twitter comment. That information, arguably, shouldn’t be public. A very public accusation and subsequent chastising of someone for deliberately misgendering you is not conducive to an enlightening discussion (I have not interacted with him on Twitter, but this seems to be a pattern). AM’s persistent crybullying and victim complex is not synonymous with being part of the trans and disabled community, and we should not be encouraging the Oppression Olympics and reducing it to queer infighting and ignorant people arguing over imperialism and race relations. We also do not need to be enabling the protection of a forty year old white grifter working for the military industrial complex. How can you exhort moral purity and promote classic Twitter wokeism and then scam people into paying for your cat bikkies and your mortage, all while working for LM? The disparity is not innocent.

We already had the drama of John Scalza accepting a Hugo Award sponsored by Raytheon this year. Both the JS and AM situations are revealing a sort of false purity, fatalistic neo-liberalism underbelly of “YA Twitter” where you can cash in your late capitalism pity points for indulgences. The consensus of the following of both was that they did what they had to do to support themselves, thereby absolving them of any sins they committed—not to mention that I saw very few people questioning why Raytheon was sponsoring a SFF Hugo Award anyway. At least I believe JS makes his living, however meager or extravagant, off selling his books as a self-proclaimed cash grab. On the other hand, I am certain AM is not supporting himself via his self-published fantasy novels, so maybe his employment at LM bleeds authenticity.

And on AM discourse with other “real” authors: The AM vs. Brandon Taylor thing bothered me in a way I was struggling to articulate when it first happened, and I couldn’t understand why. The uncomfortable part of it was obviously how quickly AM was able to portray a black gay cis man as violent. I think it’s just the Oppression Olympics, again. In what world is a black gay man intrinsically a threat to the trans and disabled community? And, on that note, the divide surrounding the “Is it ableist to say good writers read?” debate is real. I understand my Twitter feed is my own curation, but the only people I saw pointing fingers and shouting ableism were fanfic authors and writers of kitschy, formulaic YA romance—maybe the only consensus those two groups ever reached, probably because they’re sitting on opposite ends of a circle.

As far as Lauren Hough and Sandra Newman: Lauren Hough is rightfully gaining her own negative attention. Do I think mass blocking trans writers via third party software is transphobic? Yes. Do I think that trans writers should implicitly be able to dogpile her on Twitter? No. No one is required to let you flagellate them for the sake of a dog and pony show. Full disclaimer, I haven’t read the book, but because Sandra Newman is nonbinary I do think whatever exploration of gender and the surrounding social psychology she chooses to include in her book has some validity, nor do I think she is “required” to portray anyone positively. I can’t believe I sound like a Republican when I say that most of YA author Twitter needs to learn to police their own media consumption. Obviously an author’s beliefs and values inform their work. I am confident in saying the JKR’s portrayal of the employees of Gringotts was born of anti-Semitism. Reading Hanya Yanigihara’s first book shattered the glowing review I gave her second book. Her portrayal of gay men in all three of her books is probably informed by her own homophobia. Whether she is conscious of this (I believe JKR is), I don’t know. I also think it’s a stretch to say a book is meritless or actively harmful because it represents a certain group in one way or another. We can’t even decide how we want to be represented within our own social groups. My best friend would rather call himself queer or the big f-word than gay because that’s not the language he grew up with and it sounds formal and impersonal. He doesn’t get to make that decision for other people. Does AM get to speak for the entire trans community when he cries wolf?

Admittedly, I am curious to see how this unfolds, and how long it lasts before it’s resigned to the Zeitgeist of Summer 2022. I was not anticipating the LM/imperialism twist or the Tylenol-to-dogpiling-Brandon-Taylor saga to be somebody’s last straw before they took it to K!w! and LinkedIn. I haven’t really been participating on Twitter, but I’m open to discussion on here as long as we’re through arguing about engineering as a career in my inbox.  

[moemoemammon]

Following that "least favorite" request could we get their reactions to being to told that they're their favorite, but to not tell the other brothers so their feelings don't get hurt? Maybe because they relate to them the most or just get along really well. Thanks!

You're My Favorite! But Don't Tell the Others-

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

There are no words to explain the overwhelming satisfaction ion Lucifer’s face after you tell him that. Of course, it’s only natural that he would be your favorite, all things considered.

The Avatar of Pride won’t ever forget this moment. He carefully considers your words and agrees not to tell anyone, as much as he’d love to bring it up, because he knows more than anyone what kind of chaos would ensue should the others (especially Mammon) find out.

But they can tell something’s up when the eldest has been heard humming all day. He moves about the house with even more grace than usual, and hasn’t scowled even once.

But the REAL shocker was when Mammon tried hiding a bill right as Lucifer walked in... and the eldest let him off with a warning. A WARNING! The brothers thought the Devildom must’ve frozen over, but you and he knew different.

“MC, I would like you to accompany me to Le Pluvier this afternoon, once you've finished your studies. I've already made reservations, so be sure to get ready on time. I've made sure to consider the things you might like to eat, so I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. Don't be late." "...I'm grinning? I don't know what you're talking about."

Mammon

The gigantic grin on Mammon’s face is so bright, it could rival the sun. You’ve seriously made his day. No, his year. Actually, he’s pretty sure he could ride this high for the next millennia! There’s nothing in this world that could dampen his spirits right now! 

He feels like he just won big at the casino! Of course he’s your favorite! He WAS your first demon, and now he’s gone and claimed his rightful spot as your number one! Good luck trying to keep him from saying anything. Mammon’s gonna throw it around in everyone’s faces for as long as he can milk it.

And you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he treats you after hearing that. Despite always calling you his ‘servant’ or his ‘human’, you’d  think your roles were reversed. Mammon spoils you every chance he gets, buying you clothes and trinkets, filling the spaces in your room with the things he knows you like, monopolizing you completely until nearly everything you own is a gift from him.

Your words also help soothe that jealousy of his a little. Only a little, though. It’s easier to watch you talk to other demons when he knows he’ll always be your first man.

“Didja really have to stay after class that long? I know you were talkin' to that demon that lent you a book, but you outta ask ME for stuff! Tch... you're lucky I'm in a good mood today! But I guess I don't have to worry about some low level demon like that, seein' as I'm your favorite!"

Levi

Wait wait wait....Come again? Did you seriously just say what he think you said..? That had to be a mistake! Some kind of...uh..verbal typo! Because there’s absolutely, positively, NO WAY in all of the nine layers that he could be your favorite demon. And yet you still insist that you’re telling the truth, and Levi feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. 

Red faced and stammering up a storm, Levi looks like he might die. Is it really okay for a shut-in otaku to feel this giddy? Seriously, he hasn’t felt like this since he got his hands on a signed copy of a Ruri Hana audio drama! No no, this definitely beats that!

You’ve managed to inflate his nearly nonexistent ego, and now he feels like there’s nothing he can’t do! Maybe he could even go to Majolish right now?? THAT’S how good he’s feeling!

Almost as bad as Mammon in keeping it a secret. He doesn’t tell anyone right away, but they’re suspicious when they notice how much time he’s spending out of his room. And then when he and Mammon get in another petty argument, he drops the bomb that he’s your favorite demon in the entire Devildom, and you can guess how things go from there.

“Uuuoooo...!!!!! I've decided..! Since I've got a serious stat buff, I'm going to open a booth at the next convention coming up..! I'll sell my Ruri-chan fan art and spread her influence all over the Devildom! I'd never have the guts to do it normally, but I feel like I could do anything right now! Y-you'll go too, won't you MC?"

Satan

You nearly made this man spit tea all over his book, and now he’s coughing and spluttering and trying to figure out what could’ve prompted what he’s taking as a confession. You.. do realize what you’re saying, don’t you? And you know the kind of effect your words have on him?

Satan isn’t the type that wears his heart on his sleeve, so you have to look for his subtle expressions to tell how he’s feeling. But there’s nothing subtle about the redness of his ears and how he’s begging you not to look at him right now. For the sake of his sanity, give him a minute to recoup.

When he does recover, he agrees to keep it a secret for obvious reasons. And it’s hard to tell that he’s in a good mood, other than the fact that he hasn’t tried to pull any pranks on Lucifer lately. But Asmo sees all, and literally hounds him into spilling the tea.

He tells him a lie of course, but now the other brothers are noticing just how happy he is. Satan's smiling way too much today, isn't he? And he didn't even get mad when Beel got whipped cream on his jacket! Well, not THAT mad, anyway.

"Haaah... everyone's been harassing me all day, claiming I'm smiling a lot. I'm sure I look the same as I always do, but I'll admit that I've been happy ever since you told me that this morning. Wait.. you did think I've been grinning too, do you? I have??"

Asmo

Asmo always jokes about being your favorite and announces it as if the two of you are married, but when you actually confirm that his longing for you isn’t one sided, he ends up smearing lip balm across his cheek in shock. Did you... really say that just now? He knew it all along, but hearing it like that is just...!

Ooooh, he’s so happy he can hardly contain himself! Asmo throws his arms around you, peppering your face in kisses until you feel sticky from lip balm, wipes your face clean, then marks it up all over again. Good luck getting rid of him, because he might never let go.

Immediately posts it to Devilgram. Did you really think he’d let such a momentous occasion go unannounced? You must not have been paying attention to the kind of person he is! Asmo would put you on a pedestal in front of the world like a precious jewel if he were able, but this’ll have to do. He won’t hide his love at all!

Of course, the others don’t take too kindly to it, not that he cares. He never leaves your side, pampers you like crazy, and has even attempted to get you to move into his room. Lucifer put an immediate stop to that, though. Boo...

“I just can't get enough of you, MC! Just being near you gets me so excited that I can hardly stand it! You'll take responsibility for what you're doing to me, won't you? And in exchange, I'll take my time showing you just how much I love you. After all, you're my favorite, too!"

Beel

Beel never has a problem with choking while he eats, and it comes as naturally as breathing. Unfortunately neither of that applies right now, since you just made him choke on a meatball sub.

He usually takes your words with quiet acceptance, but this might be the most emotion you've ever witness from the stoic demon. His eyes are wider than that time that laid on an entire gingerbread mansion, sparkling up with such deep emotion you wouldn't be surprised if he cried. Instead he softens up and immediately embraces you.

...And doesn't let go. Sandwich long forgotten, he's been carrying you around all day, and ignoring any questions or protests from his brothers. Also insists on feeding you throughout the day. The food tastes better when he can enjoy it with you, so why not just bring you everywhere?

When he isn't carrying you, he's following you around subconsciously, either close up against you like a protective wall, or just far enough that you're within his line of sight. As far as not telling anyone, he... tells Belphie immediately. It was an accident though, since there's not much he keeps from his twin.

"MC, I won a meal ticket for Godevil Chocolatier. Let's get something for dessert today. Ah, you can get as much as you want, too. I really want to see what things you choose. They might become my favorites."

Belphie

There's nothing in this world that can wake Belphegor from his sleep, unless he allows it. No loud noises, no amount of shaking or smacking, and not even dragging him around the house. But the moment you whisper that he's your favorite demon, the Avatar of Sloth is wide awake.

Hey, you're not just saying weird things to get a reaction, are you? Because if so, this is a new level of cruel. Yet you confirm that you mean it and swear him into secrecy, and Belphie tries his best not to show how happy he is. A smile keeps creeping up on his face that he struggles to force down. It's annoying...

As funny as it’d be to tell everyone the news, he's good at keeping secrets. Instead, you've noticed that he's been sleeping a little less that before. When he does take one of his hundreds of naps, he finds some way to be closer to you. He's even been seen sleepwalking to your exact location somehow-

It's hard for him to believe that you're not teasing, though. How could HE be your favorite demon here? Belphie doesn't do anything special to win you over, yet after everything he put you through, you like him enough to deep him your favorite?

"You're weird, MC. I mean... me? I won't deny that I'm really happy though, but I guess I'm in disbelief. You should spoil me even more until I believe you. Lend me your lap for a few hours, okay?" "...I wonder what Lucifer would think if I told him, heheh."

[beccascribbles]

can you please do an omegaverse fic with inarizaki having an omega manager that goes into heat during a game and she tries to leave but some guys from another team stop her and harass her but the bois pull up and protect her <3

a/n - right, just a warning, i’m a big atsumu simp and this became abundantly clear to me when i was writing this... it’s less inarizaki and more miya twins (with the addition of kita). whoops

warnings - harassment (unwanted touching, sexual implications)

In hindsight, leaving the house without packing heat suppressants, or at least being aware of your own condition, was reckless of you. It wasn't your fault you had woken up late and had to rush to ensure you looked presentable by the time the twins came by to collect you. Though you would have loved to make the twins late (considering it was their fault - they didn’t have to get you hooked on a new TV show and leave the call midway through the season finale), you weren’t so keen on having any of Kita’s disappointment directed towards you. Therefore, when the twins arrived, Atsumu with a wide smirk at your slightly dishevelled self, you settled on directing a swift punch to their stomachs as revenge.

“Ouch,” whined Atsumu, rubbing his stomach with a pout. “What was that for, stupid?”

“Obviously she’s pissed off that we let her stay up late,” Osamu grumbled, also rubbing his stomach, though, instead of a pout, his lips were tugged downwards in a frown. “Although I don’t see how her terrible sleep schedule is our problem.”

“Don’t get me hooked on a new show next time,” you muttered, looping an arm through Osamu’s and beginning to pull him down the road. In your other hand, you held a cool bag with some snacks for the team. The only reason you had grabbed Osamu with your free arm was to prevent him from peeking into the bag. If he had hands free to look, he had hands free to eat the food within. Atsumu was less likely to eat the food, though that didn’t stop him from unzipping the bag and peeking inside.

“Oh, tasty!” he exclaimed, zipping up the bag and making eye contact with Osamu, whose head had turned in his direction once the words left his mouth. He was clearly pleading with his twin to reveal what was in the bag. Atsumu simply stuck his tongue out. “Why don’t ya use your nose to figure it out? You always boast about having a better sense of smell than me anyway.”

“Because I do,” snapped back Osamu, quickly becoming irritated, muscles tensing as he prepared himself to leap towards his twin. Your arm tightened around his, and you shot him a look, eyes holding a warning. With care, you let your scent wind through the air around the three of you, the twin alphas calming at the subtle shift in the air.

Atsumu looped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, the bag you were carrying bumping awkwardly against his legs in the process. This action almost caused your arm to slip from Osamu’s, but he quickly tightened his hold. Atsumu was not going to pull you away from him. Almost in sync, they both turned towards you, noses nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You let out a slightly frustrated sigh, but let them continue scenting you. After all, when they were able to do this, they were at their calmest, and you still had a long bus journey ahead of you where keeping arguments to a minimum was preferable.

When you began to approach the school gates, you pulled out of their grasp, walking ahead of them. You began to walk faster, shooting a look over your shoulder to see the pair of them watching you with confused expressions. It was when you finally broke into a sprint, hefting the bag holding the food at a weird angle, that they realised what you had in mind. Letting out a laugh, Atsumu took off after you; Osamu quickly followed. If you had managed to get a bigger head start, you might have won. However, on this occasion, both twins pulled ahead of you, darting around a bewildered Kita and launching forward to touch the bus with their fingers.

“I won!” they declared in unison, an argument breaking out between them that you tuned out in favour of focusing your attention on Kita. Aran had already walked over to the twins, grabbing them by the backs of their jackets and hauling them away. It was this sudden movement that jerked them from their argument.

“Hey,” you greeted, giving Kita a weary smile as he reached forward to take the food from you. Together, you walked towards the bus. Kita, having arrived ridiculously early, had already packed away everything that the team would need. The only thing not within the bus was most of the team, their individual athletic bags, and whatever you had brought with you. You climbed in, reaching up to place the bag on the overhang above you. Once you had finished, you turned to face Kita. “I think we’re going to win for sure. I did some research on this team and they’ve put forward a series of underwhelming performances in official games, as well as practice matches. They’re no match for Inarizaki, especially with our captain ready to step in if the second years on court get too excited or lazy.”

The latter comment was directed towards Suna, whose head poked up from behind a seat near the back of the bus. He raised his middle finger up in response before refocusing on the phone he was holding in his other hand. You yelled over at him, “Good morning to you too.”

“Whatever, y/n,” he sighed, looking up at you once again. “Just sit down somewhere, preferably a place where the two idiots can argue over who gets to sit next to you.”

You just rolled your eyes, taking the seat you were planning on claiming originally. Kita stood in the aisle, giving you a small smile. “I’m glad you’re confident we’re going to win, especially with all the practice everybody has been putting in.”

“I know,” you grinned. While continuing with the conversation, you motioned towards the seat beside you, indicating for Kita to take it. You’d rather sit next to Kita than have to deal with the twins for the journey anyway. “Everybody has been putting in so much more effort. I swear I’ve had to physically drag Atsumu out of the gym most days.”

“He just doesn’t listen,” sighed Kita, resting his head against the headrest. “I keep telling him practicing too much is bad for his health. He even got a fever because he was practicing too hard.”

“He’s stupid like that,” you shrugged, a yawn cutting through whatever you were about to say next.

“You better be talkin’ about Samu,” interrupted Atsumu, taking the seat in front of you and turning around to face you. Osamu collapsed into the seat beside him, flicking him in the forehead.

“She was obviously talking about you, dumbass,” he quipped.

Osamu turned to you for confirmation, only to see your head resting against the captain’s shoulder. He questioned, “y/n?”

“Of course she’s asleep,” laughed Atsumu, nudging Osamu with his shoulder, previous comment forgotten in favour of teasing you. “She can’t take the late nights.”

“Keep it down,” Kita said, adjusting your head so that it was rested against him more comfortably. In response, you moved closer to him, an arm sliding around his waist to hug him as you mumbled something incoherent in your sleep. A furious blush spread along his cheeks, and he ducked his head to hide from the twins. Luckily, their attention was fixed elsewhere, on a video Suna had sent to Osamu, too lazy to get up to walk down the coach to show him. Kita let out a sigh, dropping his head to rest atop of yours. He chided, not that you could hear him in your slumber, “You should really try to sleep earlier.”

It was fortunate for you that you slept for most of the journey. You missed Osamu moaning about being hungry, and then proceeding to search up pictures of food to drool over. Consequently, you also missed Atsumu hitting his twin and being scolded by Kita, something that always made you laugh. However, Suna had got up to draw on your face, which would have been an unfortunate consequence. Luckily, it was only to shuffle back to his seat sheepishly, the sight of Kita beside you a deterrent.

“You had to fall asleep on Kita,” grumbled Suna, walking along beside you as you entered the gymnasium. You trailed behind the rest of the team, your footsteps unusually sluggish. You blamed it on your late night. “Why couldn’t you have fallen asleep on Atsumu? He would’ve let me draw on your face.”

“Yeah, well, I’m glad you didn’t,” you responded, transferring the food bag to your other hand. The weight, though it wasn’t abnormally heavy, was beginning to make your arm ache. In fact, your whole body ached. Eyebrows furrowed, you continued switching the bag from hand to hand. It made no difference. You still ached.

“You look constipated,” observed Suna, though he took the food from your grip. You gave him a thankful smile, which he waved off. “I’m not being nice. I just don’t like walking beside someone with such a stupid expression on their face.”

“I didn’t ask you to walk beside me,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. They still ached, even without the bag. All you wanted to do was collapse on the bench at the sidelines.

“It’s not my fault you decided to walk so slowly today,” replied Suna, glancing over at you briefly. Something about you was off, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was probably a consequence of your late night, but even when you had stayed up late before, you were never this sluggish. Usually, you walked at the front beside Kita, or with the coaches. It was rare for you to be at the back unless you wanted to annoy him, which evidently was not the case this time. “I didn’t voluntarily choose to accompany you.”

“Leave me then,” you snapped, eyes narrowing in a glare, your scent suddenly spiking. He let out a grumble, releasing some of his pheromones in the air to soothe you. Suna hated being on omega duty, one of the reasons why he was glad you usually opted to walk at the front.

“You know I can’t just leave you,” he sighed, placing a hand on the small of your back to urge you forward. “The sooner we get to the gym, the sooner you can leave me and sit on the bench.”

That caused you to perk up somewhat, which also had the effect of pulling your scent back to its’ ordinary level. Your scent may have regulated, but the ache in your body persisted, each movement making you fight back a wince. It was with gritted teeth that you sat on the bench, and pulled your clipboard towards you. Suna gave you one last assessing look before beginning to warm up.

Your gaze was unfocused as you stared down at the words you had written on the page. They swam in front of your gaze, coming apart and then joining again in dizzying confusion. As you stared, you found your mind wandering, nose twitching as you found yourself seeking out any scent that felt comforting, felt familiar. Your head snapped up from the clipboard, falling on a pile of discarded jackets. From the pile, and wafting towards you in the air, was Atsumu’s rich scent that made you recall moments where you were held in his arms and shielded from the rain, Osamu’s that brought forward memories of laughing in the kitchen and collaborating on random food creations, and Kita’s that filled you with comfort, reminding you of his quite support.

Before you could process what you were doing, you were moving towards the pile, hand clutching the first jacket you found. You buried your nose into the material, breathing in Atsumu’s scent, a soft whine escaping your lips. Your own team, too engrossed in warming up, missed the sound. It did, however, attract the attention of the team on the other side of the net.

You were unaware of the sudden, and unwanted, attention, shrugging off your jacket and pulling on Atsumu’s. You turned your head into the collar, taking in a deep breath. Though the scent satisfied you emotionally, the joy at being wrapped in Atsumu’s scent, caused you to release your own pheromones, made you feel slightly dizzy. A sudden spiking heat rushed through you, and a quiet ‘shit’ slipped from your lips. Hurriedly, you began to head towards the exit, keeping your head ducked and trying desperately to stop sending pulse after pulse of pheromones into the gym. You figured that, once you were safely in the confines of the bus, you could send a message to one of the coaches, apologising for having to leave and explaining that your heat had suddenly started.

A large hand wrapped around your wrist, causing you to come to a jolting stop. The owner of the hand yanked you back into his chest and you let out a surprised squeak. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him as he let out a pleased hum. His nose ran along the scent gland at your neck, making you stiffen suddenly. Fear made you kick out, knocking against one of his teammates who was standing beside him.

“Get off me,” you panted, weakly thrashing in his grip, a sharp and bitter scent escaping from you. Across the gym, Atsumu and Osamu’s heads snapped in your direction. “Just want to leave. Need to leave.”

Twin growls ripped through the gym, sending shivers down the spines of many people in attendance, including the male currently holding you. All you could feel was relief. He looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with the furious twins. Their fury had caught the attention of the rest of Inarizaki, who all suddenly stood to attention.

“No need to be aggressive,” chuckled the male, though he made no move to release you. “I was just going to take care of this omega.”

“Like fuck ya are,” spat Atsumu, lunging forward and grabbing the male by the back of his shirt. His eyes were dark, expression twisted as another growl ripped from his throat.

“Get the fuck away from her,” growled Osamu, who had taken the distraction Atsumu provided to step in front of the male. The rest of his teammates had wisely backed off. One who had been about to pull Atsumu away had been stopped by Kita, his grip tight as he had pulled the man away by his shoulder. Despite the warning, the male’s arm remained around you. Despite Atsumu at his back and Osmau at his front, he had the nerve to push his nose against your scent gland and breathe you in deeply. A nervous whimper escaped your mouth, all Osamu and Atsumu needed for any last bit of restraint they had to evaporate. He muttered darkly, “I gave you a warning.”

Osamu’s hand curled around the male’s wrist, yanking it upwards harshly and twisting. His other arm went to catch you, pulling you away as Atsumu finally snapped. His arm wrapped around the male’s throat, his muscles prominent as he tightened his grip, crushing his windpipe. It was clear Osamu was frustrated too, eager to leap at the male. Yet, you were beside him, looking up at him with fear, and his first instinct was to protect you. He pulled his gaze away from the scene in front of him, scanning the gym until he finally found Kita. Kita was already walking towards you, anger prominent in the lines of his body. He took you from Osamu, letting you wrap your legs around his waist and snuggle your head into the crook of his neck as he held you. Kita left Osamu with a nod, giving permission the other man had not needed, but appreciated, to attack the male who had harassed you. He would let the coaches break it apart. Right now, you were his concern.

Kita walked from the gym, heading towards the bus. It was fortunate he was always prepared. Though he was certain you would be responsible enough to bring your own, he had packed heat suppressors in the buses emergency kit just in case. You let out a soft whine, hands curling into the material of his shirt.

“Atsumu… Osamu… Are they okay?” you questioned, needing to know. Kita let out a comforting purr, coupled with a release of soothing pheromones. The scent wafted around you, easing your racing heart, though it did little to cut through the haze of your heat.

“They’re fine,” he reassured, hand rubbing a soothing circle into your back before he placed you gently on a seat in the bus. You wrapped your arms around yourself, nose immediately pressing against the inside collar of the jacket, breathing in Atsumu’s scent deeply.

“Want the twins,” you whimpered. It was normal for you to want to be close to them. You had been with them since you were born, the three of you inseparable as soon as you were able to toddle. It was their scents that made up the majority of your nest, with the occasional addition of something Kita or Suna or another member of the team had scented.

Kita ignored your comment in favour of grabbing the heat suppressants from the bag. He turned towards you, grabbing a water bottle from where the spares were kept. Deciding it might be better for you, more peaceful and less painful, he also decided to include a sleeping pill. Kita handed them to you. “Have these. It’s heat suppressants and a sleeping pill.”

He watched as you took the medicine, carding his fingers through your hair affectionately. He gave your fingers a reassuring squeeze, “I’ll be back, along with the twins, when the match is finished.”

You nodded, barely registering his words as you let sleep overtake you.

When you woke up, strong arms were wrapped around you, holding you against a chest. You snuggled into the warmth, letting the distinct scent of Atsumu wash over you. Fingers stroked your hand softly, tracing its shape before sliding between your own. Your hand was lifted up, soft lips pressed against it before a face nuzzled into your palm. Sleepily, you looked up, blinking up at the twins. Even in your half-awake state, you could see the slight bruising that peppered their skin. Despite it being two-against-one, the male had landed a few solid hits before the coaches got involved.

“You’re awake,” cheered Atsumu, brushing a kiss to the top of your head as his fingers ran up and down your back, sliding beneath his jacket and your t-shirt to rest against your bare skin. Osamu gave a small cheer as well, a warm smile overtaking his features as he gazed down at you. That warm smile didn’t stop him from scolding you, something you were expecting from Kita and not him.

“And an idiot for not realising you were starting your heat,” he said, reaching over to give your hair an affection ruffle.

“We always know when our ruts are so you should know when your heats are,” chimed in Atsumu, ignoring the weak punch to his chest that you gave him with the hand not being held in Osamu’s.

“That’s because I always remind you,” you grumbled in response, though your anger was short-lived. The pheromones they were pumping out were so distracting any emotion but bliss was hard to feel, let alone hold onto.

“Considering how long you’ve known each other,” said Suna, deciding to add his two pence to the conversation, “I would’ve thought you two dumbasses would know what her pre-heat symptoms are.”

“You’re her friend too,” protested Atsumu, the only thing stopping him from engaging in a fall-blown argument was you in his lap. “Maybe you should have realised.”

“I did realise,” smirked Suna. In a quieter voice, he continued, “I just thought she was tired.”

“Can you all shut up?” snapped Aran, to which Kita was quick to agree, explaining that you would appreciate the peace and quiet.

That put a stop to any argument that could have broken out, both of the twins refocusing on you. Osamu resumed lazily playing with your fingers, while Atsumu nuzzled into your neck, rubbing his face against your scent gland. You let out a content sigh, finding comfort in their touch and the scents of the team wafting around you.

[janecrockeyre]

scum villain is a greek tragedy disguised as a regular tragedy disguised as a comedy disguised as a danmei

this is going to be long, and this is only PART ONE.

a.k.a, Analysing the plot of Scum Villain’s Self Saving System through Aristotle’s Poetics, because I Have Mental Issues

Part One: Introduction and the Tragic Hero

Scum Villain’s Self Saving System is a tragedy disguised as a comedy, unless you’re Shen Yuan, in which case it’s a mixture of a romance and a survival horror. It's a fever dream. It's a horrible, terrible book that made me feel new undiscovered emotions when I finished reading it. 

The thing is... SVSSS shares characteristics with some of the most famous tragedies in the West, such as Oedipus Rex, Medea, Antigone, the Oresteia... if you haven’t read these, I’ll explain everything. But the gist of my argument is this: SVSSS is the perfect tragedy. In triplicate. 

Tragedy as a genre is old as balls and so it has meant slightly different things to different people over the last few thousand years. I'll be focusing on ancient Greek tragedy, which was performed at the yearly Festival of Dionysus in Athens during the 500-350s BC (give or take a hundred years). Aristotle, when writing about this very specific subset of tragedy, had no idea that one day Scum Villain would be written, and then that I would be using his work as a way to look at Shen Qingqiu’s Funky Transmigration Mistake. Anyway!

Greek tragedy greatly influenced European dramatic tradition. I have a lot of opinions about white academics idolising and upholding the classics as the "paragon of culture" but I'll withhold them for now. I have no idea if MXTX has read Greek tragedy or not, so don't take this as me saying they are writing it. 

In my opinion, tragedy is a universal human constant. We are surrounded by pain and hurt and none of it makes any sense, so we seek to process that pain through drama, art, literature, etc. We want to understand why pain happens, and how it happens, and try to make sense of the senseless. The universe is cold and cruel and random. Tragedy eases some of that pain. 

On that note: Just because I am analysing Scum Villain through a Greek lens doesn't mean that it was written that way. I'm pasting an interpretation onto the book when there's probably a very rich and deep history of Chinese tragedy that I just don't know about. If you ever want to talk about that, please, god, hit me up, I would love to learn about it!! 

Anyway, tragedy. MXTX is excellent at it! Mo Dao Zu Shi? Painful dynastic family tragedy. Heaven Official's Blessing? Mostly romance, but she managed to get that pure pain in there, huh? 

But in my opinion, Scum Villain holds the crown for the most tragic of her stories. MDZS was more of a mystery. TGCF was more of a romance. Neither of them shy away from their tragic elements. 

Scum Villain would fit right in between the work of Sophocles, Euripides and Aeschylus. How? Let me show you. Join me on my mystery tour into the world of "Aristotle Analyses Danmei..."

Part One: The Tragic Hero

What is a tragic hero? Generally, Greek tragic heroes are united by the same key characteristics. He must be imperfect, having a "fatal flaw" of some kind. He must have something to lose. And he must go from fortune to misfortune thanks to that fatal flaw. 

There are two (technically three) tragic protagonists in SVSSS and all of them are tragic in different but formulaic ways. Each protagonist has their own version of “hamartia” or a “fatal flaw”. 

Actually, hamartia isn’t necessarily a flaw - rather, it is a thing which makes the audience pity and fear for them, a careful imperfection, a point of weakness in the character’s morality or reasoning that allows for bad things to happen to them. For example, in Oedipus Rex, the king Oedipus has a “fatal flaw” of always wanting to find the truth, but this isn’t exactly a flaw, right? Note: this flaw can be completely unwitting, as we see with Shen Yuan. It can also be something that the protagonist is born with, some kind of trait from birth or very young. 

Shen Yuan

Shen Yuan’s “hamartia” is his rigid adherence to fate and his inability to read a situation as anything but how he thinks it ought to be. He believes that Bingmei will grow into Bingge, and it takes several years, two deaths, and some truly traumatising sex to convince him otherwise. 

Shen Jiu

Shen Jiu’s fatal flaw is his cruelty. It is his own sadistic treatment and abuse of Binghe which directly leads to his eventual dismemberment. This is kind of a no-brainer. Of course, it isn't all that simple, and as an audience we pity him for his cruelty as much as we fear it because we know it comes from his own abuse as a child. This just makes him even more tragic. Delicious. 

Luo Binghe

Luo Binghe’s fatal flaw is a complicated mix of things. It is his position as the “protagonist” which compels him to act in certain ways and be forced to suffer. It is his half-demonic heritage, something entirely out of his control, which sets in motion his tragic reversal of fortune when he gets yeeted into the Abyss. He also, much like Shen Yuan, has the propensity to jump to conclusions and somehow make 2 + 2 = 5. 

As well as having their respective “flaws”, all three protagonists match the rough outline of a good tragic hero in another way: they are in a position of great wealth and power. Even when you split the different characters into different “versions”, this still holds true. Yes, Luo Binghe is raised a commoner by a washerwoman foster mother, but his dad is an emperor and he also ends up becoming an emperor himself. 

Yes, Shen Jiu is an ex-slave and a victim of abuse himself, but Shen Qingqiu is a powerful peak lord with an entire mountain’s worth of resources at his back. 

Shen Yuan is a second generation new money rich kid. 

Bingge is a stereotypical protagonist with a golden finger. Bingmei is a treasured and loved disciple with a good reputation and a privileged seat by his shizun’s side. 

In a tragedy, having this kind of good fortune at the beginning of your story is dangerous. Chaucer says that tragedy is (badly translated into modern english) “a certain story / of him that stood in great prosperity / and falls out of high degree / into misery, and ends up wretchedly”. If we follow this line of thinking, a good tragedy is about someone who has a lot to lose, losing everything because of one fatal point of weakness that they fail to address or understand. 

If we look at Shakespeare, this is what makes King Lear such a fantastic tragic protagonist. He is a king in control of most of England, who from his own lack of wisdom and excess of pride, decides to split his kingdom apart to give to his daughters, favouring his murderous, double crossing progeny, and condemning his only actually filial daughter to death. He loses his kingdom, his mind, and his beloved daughter, all because of his own stupidity.

This brings us to:

Part Two: Peripeteia

This reversal of fortunes is called peripeteia. It is the moment where the entire plot shifts, and the hero’s fortunes go from good to bad. Think of it like one of those magic eye puzzles, where you stare at the image until a 3D shark appears, except you realise the shark was always there, you just couldn't ever see it, waiting for you, hungry, deadly, always lurking just behind that delightful pattern of random blue squiggles. 

Each tragic hero has their own moment of peripeteia in SVSSS, sometimes several:

Shen Qingqiu

In the original PIDW, SQQ’s peripeteia presumably occurs when he finds out that Bingge didn’t perish in the Abyss but has actually been training hard to come and pay him back. There’s really not much I’m interested in saying here - as a villain, OG!SQQ is cut and dry, and the audience doesn’t really feel any pity or fear for him. As Shen Yuan often mentions, what the audience feels when they see OG!SQQ is bloodlust and sick satisfaction. There is also the trial at Huan Hua Palace, which I will talk about in Shen Yuan’s section. 

Shen Yuan (SQQ 2.0)

One of SY’s most poggers moment of peripeteia is the glorious, terrifying section between hearing Binghe for the first time after the Abyss moment, and getting shoved into the Water Prison. 

“Behind him, a low and soft voice came: “Shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu’s neck felt stiff as he slowly turned his head. Luo Binghe’s face was the most frightening thing he had ever seen.

The scariest thing about it was that the expression on his face was not cold at all. His smile wasn’t sharp like a knife. Rather, it showed a kind of bone-deep gentleness and amiability.”

This is the moment of true horror for Shen Yuan, because he knows what happens next: the plot unfurls before him, inevitable and painful, and he knows that death awaits him at Luo Binghe's hands (lol). Compare it with the bone deep certainty with which he faces his own downfall during the sham of a trial later in the chapter (I’ve bolded the important part):

“In the original work, Qiu Haitang’s appearance signified only one thing: Shen Qingqiu’s complete fall from grace. [...] Shen Qingqiu’s heart streamed with tears. Great Master… I know you’re doing this for my own good, but I’ll actually suffer if she speaks her words clearly. This truly is the saying “not frightened of doing a shameful deed, just afraid the ghost (consequences) will come knocking”!”

After the peripeteia is usually the denouement where the plot wraps up and the threads are all tied together leaving no loose ends, but because this tragedy isn’t Shen Yuan’s but the former Shen Jiu’s, it’s impossible to finish. 

Shen Yuan cannot provide the meaningful answers that the narrative demands because 1) he doesn’t have any memory of doing anything, and 2) he wasn’t the person who did them. Narratively, he cannot follow the same path as the former SQQ because he lacks the same fatal flaw: cruelty. 

This is why Binghe doesn’t kill him - because he loves him, rather than despises him. And this is why Shen Yuan has to sacrifice himself and die for Luo Binghe in order to save him from Xin Mo: because the narrative demands that denouement follows peripeteia, and SQQ’s fate is in the hands of the narrative. 

(Side note: I believe that this literal death also represents the death of OG!SQQ's tragic arc. The body that committed all those crimes must die to satisfy the narrative. SQQ must die, like burning down a forest, so that new growth can sprout from the ashes. After this, Shen Yuan's story has more room to develop instead.)

It must happen to show Bingmei that SQQ loves him too. And this brings us to Bingmei.

Bingmei

Bingmei has two succinct moments of utter downfall. The first is a literal fall - his flaw, his demonic heritage, leads his beloved shizun to throw him down into the Abyss. From his point of view, SQQ is punishing him simply for the status of his birth. He rapidly goes from being loved and cherished unconditionally, to being the victim of an assassination attempt. 

He realises that he is totally unlovable: that for the crimes of his species that he never had a hand in, he must pay the price as well: that his shizun is so righteous that no matter what love there was between them, if SQQ sees a demon, he will kill it. Even if that demon is Bingmei. 

The second moment is when SQQ dies for him. Again, from his point of view, he was chasing after a man who was struggling to see him as a human being. Shen Qingqiu’s death makes Bingmei realise that he has been completely misunderstanding his shizun: that SQQ would literally die for him, the ultimate act of self sacrifice from love: that SQQ loved him despite his demon heritage. 

Much like King Lear holding the corpse of his daughter and wailing in sheer grief and pain because he did this, he caused this, Bingmei gets to hold his shizun's cold body and cry his eyes out and know that it was his fault. (Kind of.)

(Yes, I’m bringing Shakespeare into this, no I am not justifying myself)

Maybe I'm a bit sadistic, but that scene slaps. Let me show you a comparison of scenes so you get the picture. 

Re-enter KING LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms; EDGAR, Captain, and others following

KING LEAR

Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:

Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so

That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever!

I know when one is dead, and when one lives;

She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass;

If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,

Why, then she lives.

[...]

 KING LEAR

And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life!

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,

And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,

Never, never, never, never, never!

Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.

Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,

Look there, look there!

Dies

Versus this scene in SVSSS: 

Luo Binghe turned a deaf ear to everything else, greatly agitated and at a loss of what to do. He was still holding Shen Qingqiu’s body, which was rapidly cooling down. It seemed like he wanted to call for him loudly and forcefully shake him awake, yet he didn’t dare to, as if he was afraid of being scolded. He said slowly, “Shizun?”

[...]

Luo Binghe involuntarily held Shen Qingqiu closer.

He said in a small voice, “I was wrong, Shizun, I really… know that I was wrong.

“I… I didn’t want to kill you…”

PAIN. SO MUCH BEAUTIFUL PAIN. Yes, I know Shakespeare isn’t Athenian, but he was inspired by the good old stuff and he also knew how to write a perfect tragedy on his own terms. Anyway. I’ll find more Greek examples later.

This post was a bit all over the place, but I hope it has been fun to read. Part Two will be coming At Some Point, Who Knows When. This is a bit messy and unedited, but hey, I’m not getting paid or graded, so you can eat any typos or errors. Unless you’re here to talk to me about Chinese tragedy, in which case, please pull up a seat, let me get you a drink, make yourself at home.

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