#something something meant to represent how i can never just Feel things and they build up like energy under my skin

[scp3999]

still havent drawn my sona ref but i sure as hell have been doodling it in the same pose over and over. heres a couple of them that i actually put colours to

#engineposting #drawing pin #furry #kind of hate the first one bc i forgot its ears & i was just messing around so the colours are kind of wacky #engine voice: what if i drew my sona with its head down looking crazed again #i originally wanted to make my ref before i posted these bc it doesnt actually look Like This normally #basically its bodily extremities are tipped in white #but when it experiences intense emotions the white spreads further up its body until its almost glowing #hence the Expression #something something meant to represent how i can never just Feel things and they build up like energy under my skin #maybe thats edgy idc ive been playing and having fun with this concept in my head for a while #augh i want to finish the ref drawing so bad #but im like #stuck on the arms #struggling with anatomy a bit #pain and suffering etc

[tenelkadjowrites]

The Heart's Filthy Lesson - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

🪓Summary: Your best friend has always been dedicated to you. But isn't everyone's best friend like that?

🪓Word count: 15k

🪓Playlist for this fic can be found here.

🪓Genre & warnings: one shot smut. (twisted) best friends to lovers. unreliable narrator. elements of horror. descriptions of stalking against the reader, violence against others (not the reader), unhealthy relationship dynamics. dom hwa. dirty talk. underwear is torn off reader. oral sex, reader receiving. choking, reader receiving. unprotected sex. creampie.

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

               You’re fumbling with your keys, trying to get it into the lock without dropping your overstuffed bag. Why do I overpack so much? You curse inwardly. Every time, you swear that only essentials will be packed. Somehow, that ends up meaning enough underwear for a month and clothes for three different outfits a day even when you’re just visiting family.

               You manage to get the key in the lock, practically tumbling inside your small apartment on the third story. Unceremoniously dumping your bag on the floor, you let out a long sigh. Like all family visits, you’re glad for them but also socially drained.

               Padding into your living room, you wince a little. Way too much light in here, you think, I thought for sure I closed the blinds when I left. You turn around, fighting off the urge to take a nap. The trip is catching up to you, leaving you tired.

               But you stand in the middle of the room, feeling a strange sense of unease. The living room looks entirely the same yet you cannot shake the sensation that something is different. It’s just cuz I thought I had closed the blinds. But the words ring hollow in your head.

               In the quiet atmosphere of the apartment, you can distantly hear the traffic outside and the neighbor upstairs moving something heavy around. Your eyes slowly look across your kitchen counters before landing on a small pile of mail.

               Curiously, you walk towards it, picking up the stack. There is a small sticky note stuck to the top with just a quickly drawn smiley face on it, the ink smeared into the paper on one side. Frowning, you peel it off and go through the mail. All of it is from when you were gone –

               A knock on the door makes you jump, pressing your hand against your chest for a second. The pile of mail drops back to the counter, scattering across it as you go to the door. You don’t check who it is. You already know.

               Opening the door, you find yourself face to face with your overly enthusiastic best friend.

               “Hey, I remembered you were supposed to be back around this time so I figured I’d come over to say hi.”

               “Hi, Seonghwa,” You say, already moving to the side to let him in.

               He glances over his shoulder at you while heading into the living room. “How was the trip? How was your family? Did you tell them that I said hi?” Every word is said quickly, as if they are all fighting for importance and can’t decide what order to pop out in.

               You push the door closed, trailing after him. You’ve known Seonghwa longer than anyone else in your life – he used to live next door where you befriended one another at just six years old. You went to the same high school, even the same college and when you decided to move to the city, so did he. You lived on different sides of the city at first until a year ago, when the apartment building finally had an opening and now he lived just one floor under yours. The two of you were a team – you knew everything about him and he never forgot a detail about you. Things were comfortable…although maybe a little too comfortable.

               You cross your arms, leaning against the wall. “You brought my mail in.”

               He turns to look at you, smiling brightly. Seonghwa always had the same countenance – pleasant and happy. “Yeah, of course.”

               “I don’t remember giving you a key.”

               “Oh, your plant needs watering.” He leans over and touches the wilting leaves gently, already moving past the fact he let himself into your place without asking. “Want me to do it?” He looks up at you.

               You sigh, walking towards him. “Seonghwa,” You touch his hand gently, trying to get his attention.

               His expression falters just for a moment before guilt pops in behind his eyes. Seonghwa looks tired, although that isn’t new, because he’s always on his computer at all times of the day and night. He glances downward at where your fingers had grazed his skin for a split second. His profile is so familiar to you – the sharp curve of his jaw, the long nose, his perfectly plump lips hiding perfect teeth. This is the same man you’ve grown up with your entire life. You know objectively he is beautiful but you’ve known him for so long that it no longer catches your notice. From the time he got in trouble for pushing a kid bullying you at the playground when you were both eight years old to sneaking out while in high school to go drink to this very moment, he’s always been there. That’s why you dislike whenever you come off as though you’re lecturing him.

               “It was from two weeks ago. Remember? I had to let the plumbers in for you,” Seonghwa protests.

               “You’re supposed to give the key back,” You hold out your hand, wiggling your fingers.

               He ducks his head, some of his hair falling in front of his eyes as he looks down at the sagging plant. “It’s in my place. I don’t keep it on me.”

               “Fine,” You sigh, “Next time, okay?”

               Seonghwa bites down on his bottom lip for a second before his eyes lock on yours. “It happened six months ago. I mean, don’t you think – I think I’ve done a good job at not crossing a boundary since then.”

               You hadn’t been expecting to have this conversation today. But maybe that is your own fault for constantly putting it off. It isn’t even that you’re mad at him anymore. But coming home late one night to find him passed out drunk in your bed after using your key to get in just felt like shattering a boundary. You took your key back after that, giving your best friend a dressing down even though he was apologizing profusely. 

               “I mean, you technically weren’t supposed to use the key to drop off my mail,” You point out.

               His cheeks flush. “I was trying to be helpful,” He mumbles, eyes darting away from your face.

               You sigh, knowing you’re going to give in. That is how it usually worked with Seonghwa. He was always the overzealous best friend, eager to help you even to the extent that it resulted in too much on his own plate.

               “I know,” You reply, “And I appreciate it.”

               His face lights up, all earlier guilt and tension erased immediately. Seonghwa immediately begins to pepper you with questions about the trip back home, leaving the earlier conversation about boundaries long passed. You aren’t sure if anything you said even sunk into his head. Likely not, you think.

               After all, you know Seonghwa so well. You know what sticks to him.

*

               “Hey!” The familiar chipper voice snaps you out of your mindless phone scrolling.

               It’s two days later, after work, and you’re meeting Seonghwa for a coffee. The key issue is long forgotten, overtaken by the daily events of life that naturally take more importance than your best friend helpfully bringing in your mail.

               He’s pushing through the crowd of people that have formed looking for a late afternoon caffeine boost. It had begun snowing earlier and there are a few snowflakes melting in his hair. His brown jacket hangs off his thin frame, the same jacket he’s had for easily a decade because he doesn’t care enough to buy a new one. It’s well worn, fraying at the seams near the elbows, and you’ve seen it against the backdrop of a multitude of different coffee shops.

               “Am I late?” He stands by the table, looking down at you, not paying attention to the man trying to get past him while carefully balancing two cups of coffee in his hands.

               “No. Even if you were, it’s okay. I was waiting for you before I got anything.”

               You move to get up but Seonghwa shakes his head quickly. “No, no,” He nudges you back in the seat gently, “I’ll go order for us. It’s too crowded.” He is looking in your eyes. “I know what you like.”

               He’s gone then, back in the crowd, moving towards the counter. You watch him go, turning your attention back to your phone. Ten minutes later, Seonghwa returns, handing you the coffee and sliding into the seat across from yours. The table is crammed in the corner, a clear attempt to try to fit more seats inside since the snow is coming down.

               “I’m getting sensory overload in here,” You remark when someone smacks your arm with their laptop bag on accident.

               “Do you want to go?” Seonghwa leans forward, “We can go if it’s too much.”

               “No, it’s fine,” You shake your head, “I should have given more consideration to the time, I guess. How are you?”

               He drums his fingers against the table while answering. “Fine. The usual. How was work?”

               “The usual too. That project I’ve been stuck working on finishes next week – ow,” You wince as someone else hits your arm while squeezing through the tight space between your table and the next.

               Seonghwa reacts like lightning, too quick for you to even say anything. His hand reaches for the strap of the man’s bag and he gives a sharp tug on it. “Hey!” He snaps and the man looks over his shoulder with wide eyes, “Pay attention to where you’re going!”

               “Seonghwa, it’s fine –”

                “I’d rather walk in the snow than be in here,” He says curtly, grabbing his coffee cup and gesturing for you to follow.

               You do, and out in the cold, let out a small sigh of relief. Alright, maybe the idea of leaving the crowded coffee shop was the right choice. The soft layer of snow that is forming across everything is ruined by the many feet trampling over it hurrying to get home after work.

               But you walk slowly along the sidewalk with Seonghwa, neither of you speaking for a few minutes. You glance out of the corner of your eye to find him looking at you.

               He clears his throat quickly and asks, “What were you trying to say in there?”

               “Oh, the project. It’s winding down next week. I’m relieved.”

               Someone cuts in between the two of you and when Seonghwa moves back closer, he is no longer looking in your direction. “Is the project leader still texting you outside of work?”

               You blink, a little surprised he remembers such a small detail from a few months ago. “Yeah, sometimes. But it isn’t anything unprofessional.”

               Seonghwa’s cheeks are slightly red from the cold. He is holding the coffee cup tightly for warmth. “He might ask you out when the project is done.”

               “Maybe,” You reply with a shrug, “We’ll see.”

               Your best friend falls silent. The look in his eyes is from a thousand miles away for a couple of seconds before it snaps back into focus. “Would you say yes?”

               “I don’t know. I guess I’ll see how I feel when it happens.” You hadn’t given it a lot of thought.

               There is another silence which is unusual for Seonghwa who usually fills the conversation easily. But he seems to be mulling something over and is lost in thought – a rarity.

               “What about you?”

               His head snaps up, looking at you. “What do you mean?”

               A lone snowflake lands on the bridge of his nose. You lean forward and brush it off. The gesture comes automatically, instilled from years of friendship. You’ve brushed a thousand snowflakes off his face and shoulders over the many winters spent hanging out.

               “That woman at the coffee shop was flirting with you a few weeks back,” You then frown, “But we haven’t been back since. We could’ve gotten you a date.”

               Seonghwa turns his face away from yours, slowing his pace down a little while watching the rush hour traffic grow larger on the road.

               “No, I’m good.”

               Coming to a stop at the crosswalk, you nudge his shoe with yours. “You haven’t been on a single date in ages.”

               “So?” He turns to look at you, his eyes wide and questioning.

               “Nothing, you just work a lot from home, that’s all. I wouldn’t want you to miss out something fun because of that.”

               “Trust me, I’m not. I just am not interested in awkward dates.” He bounces on the heels of his shoes for a couple of seconds until the crosswalk turns green and he takes off like a shot.

               This is typical of Seonghwa’s walking speed and you try to keep up. “Was I overstepping?”

               “No,” He replies swiftly, his energy bubbling underneath the surface, “But I had a string of very awkward dates all last year and I need a break from them.” He runs his fingers through his hair, still walking at a brisk pace.

               “Right, I get that. I didn’t mean to come off like I was lecturing –”

               Seonghwa stops suddenly, so abruptly that you almost trip over your own feet. “You never come off like you’re lecturing,” He says, reaching out to help steady you, “I understand you just want what is best for me.”

               “Right,” The word sends up a tiny puff of air from the cold, “You’re in your apartment a lot except when you’re with me. That’s all.”

               Seonghwa’s hand is still on your arm but the grip is so loose that you can’t even feel it through the thick jacket. His nails are bitten to the quick. He lowers his hand once he knows you’re not going to fall over.

               He flashes a quick grin, the same expression you’ve seen a thousand times. Your shoulders relax, knowing he isn’t upset with you.

               “Is that so bad? Maybe I just wanna hang out with my best friend right now.”

               “No, there isn’t anything wrong with it. I just need to make sure you’re doing alright though. You’d do the same for me.”

               Seonghwa’s grin softens and he gently punches you on the shoulder. “Yeah, of course I would. I’d do anything for you. You know that.” He straightens up. “Now, come on. Enough discussing how I prefer to be indoors all day. Mental check-in complete. Ask me again in six weeks.”

               “Right,” You are smiling, your concerns about Seonghwa spending too much time alone now allayed.

               “Let’s get home, alright? I’m freezing.”

               The conversation resumes, the ebb and flow always the same, some topics circled back so often over the course of time that they feel more like well read books with their spines bent than anything exciting. But you like that with Seonghwa.

               With him, what you see is what you get.

*

               “Nope, not Mario Party,” Seonghwa shakes his head, stretched out on the couch in his apartment, “You turn into someone I don’t even know when you play that. Half the time, I think you’re gonna tear my face off.”

               You scoff. “Come on. That isn’t true.”

               “Yes, it is. Think about last time.”     

               Shifting awkwardly on the couch, you avoid his eyes. “Whatever,” You mumble, remembering cursing him out for stealing your star.

               It’s a week later and you’re trying to unwind from the stresses of work. The project finished yesterday which meant some relief. It is almost a routine now to pop over to Seonghwa’s, play a video game and unwind – to the point where neither of you ask to confirm, it just happens.

               His place is organized and tidy, in a way that you could never hope to replicate. A shelf lined with books is next to the TV, with another one filled with his Legos he builds to unwind. His computer with dual monitors is in the corner, the chair pushed out from where he hastily got up once work finished for the day. The apartment is comforting.

               Seonghwa gives you a knowing look and you drop the subject, aware he is right. He runs his fingers through his hair before turning his attention to the TV, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

               “You hear from that client? The one who is clearly interested in you?” He asks suddenly, staring at the TV while booting up Netflix.

               Surprised, you glance at him and shift a bit in your spot on the couch. “He’s been texting me a bit.”

               Seonghwa makes a noncommittal noise although for one second, you swear his grip on the remote tightens. When he doesn’t say anything further, you’re unsure of where to take the conversation. He’s never shown much interest in who you’ve dated before – in fact, he’s always seemed bored hearing about them, to the point that you barely mention it. You wonder what makes this guy different but something in you holds back asking.

               “I gotta pee,” You say instead, and he just nods, swept up in whatever he’s thinking about.

               You head down the hall and into the bathroom. You’re about to sit down when you notice there is no toilet paper on the roll. Rolling your eyes, you open the cabinet under the sink and rummage around. Why does he never pay attention to this stuff? Better yet why are you surprised?

               The cabinet is as organized as the rest of his place but there is no sign of toilet paper. You try to remember if he stashes it elsewhere but nothing comes to mind. You think of your own cabinet under the bathroom sink and wince. Seonghwa has always been the more organized of you two. You’re lost in thought, pushing aside some cleaning supplies when your eyes land on a strange small black box pushed all the way to the back.

               It’s slim and almost glossy, completely out of place to be shoved underneath the bathroom stick. You chew on your bottom lip, curiosity nipping at your brain. Seonghwa isn’t the one for secrets. There’s probably Pokémon cards or something inside that he misplaced.

               But you still reach for the box, sitting down on the bathroom floor and opening it quietly. Guilt is poking at you for snooping through your best friend’s stuff. You can’t explain what is even driving you to open something personal that belongs to Seonghwa.

               But you do.

               There isn’t a lot inside.

               One pair of underwear. A house key. A small bracelet.

               Your pair of underwear. Your house key. Your small bracelet.

               You stare at the items, not comprehending what is in your lap. The pair of underwear is green lace, one of your cuter pairs, and it went missing months ago. Around the time I found him passed out drunk in my bed, a small voice in your head points out.

               The memory of the night replays. Coming home late, finding Seonghwa fast asleep in your bed, flopped on his stomach, wrapped up in the bedsheets as if it was his own room. You were frustrated at the lack of respect for your personal space. Seonghwa always had a tendency to do such things; back in college, more than once you’d wake up to him in your dorm with a cup of coffee in hand, somehow getting past security.

               But you snapped that night, under a lot of work pressure and startled at finding a shape in your bed in the middle of the night. Waking Seonghwa up, you angrily asked him what he had been doing. Seonghwa slurred his words, said he was drunk and apologized. He sounded panicked and ashamed but that didn’t stop you from demanding your key back. You hadn’t talked to him for three days while he left you a ton of texts and messages apologizing and explaining himself. It was the longest you had gone without speaking to him.

               Back in the present, you gingerly reach for the pair of underwear. Why would he take this? Your cheeks feel hot looking at it. Was he…doing something with this? Surely, that would be impossible. For a split second, your brain flashes a mental image of Seonghwa with his hand wrapped around the underwear as he – nope, no.

                You drop it back into the box, opting for the bracelet instead. It’s a thin fake gold band with a tiny cubic zirconia diamond in it. You wore it over ten years ago, one night at the summer festival. Your boyfriend at the time just broke up with you and all you wanted to do was stay inside until Seonghwa prodded you to go with him. You wore the bracelet then, with a sun dress, trying to make an effort to look presentable. Seonghwa won a stuffed animal at one of the booths and gave it to you. You don’t remember misplacing the bracelet.

               The house key winks knowingly at you.

               You shut the box, shoving it hurriedly back in its spot as your heart threatened to explode in your chest. Your head is spinning, wondering what the hell to do. Do you confront him about it? That is what you’re supposed to do. But what do you even say?

               You turn on the faucet, splashing cold water on your face while trying to gather your thoughts. Could it be that Seonghwa had some sort of crush on you? That is absurd. Keeping the bracelet would mean it has been a minimum of ten years he’s been pining for me. It could be longer. That’s enough to drive anyone mad.

                In any case, you needed to get out of his apartment and try to calm yourself down. You had a tendency not to think very rationally when emotional and it would be better to put some space away from Seonghwa until you figured out how to broach the subject.

               You open the bathroom slowly, trying to collect yourself and steady your breathing. When you enter the living room, Seonghwa is idly watching TV. He glances over at you and then frowns.

               “What’s wrong?”

               So much for looking casual.

               “My boss texted me and there’s some crisis with another client. I need to pop back home and get on a Zoom meeting.” You don’t even know where the lie came from but it leaves your mouth smoothly.

               Seonghwa sounds exasperated when he replies with, “You’re kidding.”

               “No, sorry. You know how it is. Big girl job.”

               “Yeah, fine, I get it.”

               You are trying to get to the door without asking him what the fuck but he meets you there, his hand on the door knob. You force yourself to look at him directly – this face you know so well, this face you’ve stared at a thousand times. The same face that won you a stuffed animal at the festival ten years ago. Nothing has changed.

               “I’ll message you later,” You say.

               “Alright,” He opens the door, “Later.”

               It closes behind your back, leaving you alone in the hallway. You stand there for a few moments.

               You have no proof but there’s the sensation of Seonghwa looking through the peephole at you.

*

               Not seeing your best friend for two days does nothing to help you figure out how to broach the subject of the tiny black box underneath his bathroom sink. By the time you see Seonghwa Sunday afternoon, the only idea you have is to avoid the discussion completely and opt to veer the conversation into you going on a date with someone.

               The sun is lazily cutting across the floor of your living room while you pretend to be making coffee in the kitchen. Seonghwa is talking animatedly from the couch about something that happened the day before. You’re not really paying attention. Your mind keeps flashing to the night he fell asleep in your bed, picturing him rummaging through your underwear drawer to take a pair and slipping it into his pocket. You’re remembering the way he comforted you after getting dumped, convincing you to go to the festival. You can see him against the backdrop of the small white bulbs that were hanging off the booths, running his fingers through his hair while explaining with easy confidence how he could win a stuffed animal.

               “Hey,” Seonghwa’s voice cuts through the memories and you blink, looking up from your place at the kitchen counter to see him standing in front of you, “Are you even listening to me?”

               “I’m going on a date Tuesday night,” You blurt out without preamble, “With the client. The project that just finished.”

               Seonghwa looks thrown before clearing his throat and replying, “Alright.”

               But you keep going. “I think we have a real connection. It could turn into something.”

               For the briefest moment, Seonghwa’s face goes startingly blank. There is nothing behind his eyes, and no expression on his face. Then he snaps back into focus, his hands pressing flat against the counter. “That’s good.”

               You’re lying, of course, you doubt anything will come from this date. But if Seonghwa is harbouring some sort of intense crush on you, maybe showing him you’re into someone else will fix things. Knock the thoughts out of his head, redirect his focus to something else. Anything to get out of having a horrible discussion with him that could ruin the most solid friendship you’ve ever had in your entire life.

               “Yeah, I can let you know how it goes,” You say a little too quickly, “Might be good for me. Like, I haven’t had a relationship in a couple of years. I feel ready for one now.”

               Seonghwa pushes himself away from the counter, turning his back to you. “That’s great.” He plops back down on the couch. “Remind me again what I know about this guy.”

               You decide to take this opportunity to really sell this man, to truly drive it home that this could be someone that you will be smitten with. You spend the next five minutes prattling on about him. At one point, you sit on the couch, on the opposite side of where Seonghwa is, still enthusiastically talking about a man you’ve barely thought of the entire time you worked with him. 

               Seonghwa’s face is slightly tilted with his arm propped up on the side of the couch, hand resting against his cheek. He’s looking at the wall, eyes distant. You’re trying to stay the course and see your speech through while at the same time studying his face for any sign that this onslaught of information is settling in. But there isn’t anything, not even a clenching of his jaw.

               Running out of breath, you stop speaking and the room lapses into silence. Seonghwa stirs, turning his face in your direction. There it is once more – the same blank stare from earlier. Nothing behind his eyes, gone in a flash, replaced with the same Seonghwa you knew. You swallow hard, suddenly feeling a little off kilter. There is something unfamiliar in that blankness, something that is brand new ground in the relationship with your best friend.

               “Well, you sound excited,” He says casually, “You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

               Your shoulders relax slightly. Are you overthinking everything? If Seonghwa was upset, you’d notice, right? You’ve seen him angry or annoyed a thousand times before. But the box still tugs at your sleeve. There’s a reason he has that. There is a reason he kept the underwear, the bracelet, the key. But the idea of asking your best friend why he has a box with such contents makes you want to jump off a cliff.

               And Seonghwa is…comforting. Maybe it is selfish to think of him that way and to want nothing to change, especially if things are different at his end. But he’s been in your life for so long that the idea of him potentially not wanting to be around you anymore due to a crush forming makes your anxiety spike. He’s been there through everything…You can get stuff back on track. You can fix things without mentioning the box.

               You’re sure of it.

*

               Typically, the process of getting ready for a date is somewhat fun and enjoyable. You tend to overthink your outfit but other than that, you like listening to music, doing your makeup and wondering how the night will go.

               This date doesn’t feel like that, mostly because the entire time you’re getting ready, your mind keeps going to Seonghwa.

               You’ve been overanalyzing his behavior since your Oscar winning performance convincing him this date is important. It’s been a few days since your speech and he seems exactly the same. Maybe a little more reserved if you truly look at the small details. But that could be work related, you argue, maybe I need to stop being so self-absorbed and think that everything has to do with me.

               But then you think back to the box with your underwear, bracelet and key. Any rational person would just talk to their best friend about it. Instead, you’re forcing yourself to go on this date in hopes of avoiding it because you’re being selfish, putting your feelings before his and wanting everything to remain normal.

               Your phone suddenly rings, startling you out of your brooding. It’s your client – no, your date.

               “Hello?”

               “Hey, listen,” His voice comes out fast and urgent, “I am so sorry but I’m going to have to cancel.”

               “What? Why?” It comes out way more demanding than intended but you had been banking on this…

               “Some fucking psycho ruined my car! It’s all smashed up! Like, it’s completely fucking ruined!” The client’s voice pitches higher in anxiety and an undercurrent of fear.

               You grip the phone tightly while exclaiming, “What?!”

               “My tires are slashed, my windows are blown out! The doors have these deep gash marks in the side like some lunatic took a fucking axe to it! Even the insides are cut up…Christ, I gotta go, okay? I’m really sorry. We’ll reschedule, I promise.”

               “No, of course, I understand. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe that happened,” You say in shock, “That’s horrible.”

               “Thanks. Again, really sorry. I’ll call you, okay?”

               The call ends as suddenly as it began. You stare at your phone for a few seconds, feeling a wave of sympathy for your client. It would be horrible to deal with your car getting messed up like that. But this meant the date was pushed back…

               Looking at yourself in the mirror, you wondered what to do now. Normally when plans fell through, you’d hang out with Seonghwa. If he found out the date got cancelled and you didn’t come over, he could think you’re avoiding him. But showing up all dolled up for a date that had nothing to do with him could be rubbing his face in things too, couldn’t it?

               “I’m so sick of overthinking,” You mumble, leaving your bathroom and trying to find a hoodie to tug over your outfit, yanking it on over your head, adjusting it a bit and then grabbing your bag, “I don’t care.”

               You’re lying – you care more than you’d like to admit, both about Seonghwa and whatever is going on with his feelings towards you and the fact deep down you’re aware that you are handling this poorly.

               A few minutes later, you’re knocking on the front door of Seonghwa’s apartment. While you do have a key to his place, you weren’t going to violate that boundary even though you knew he wouldn’t see it that way.

               No one answers.

               You knock again but this time you go, “Hey, Seonghwa?”

               Now, you can hear shuffling inside the apartment followed by a muffled, “Just a second!”

               The door opens a second later. Seonghwa has clearly just gotten out of the shower. His hair is still soaking wet, dripping onto his black t-shirt. He runs his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it out but all that does is send some water droplets flying to the floor.

               “What, were you taking a swim?” You joke.

               His eyes land on you. “Wasn’t expecting you to come by. I thought you had that date.”

               “I did but he had to cancel,” You reply as Seonghwa moves to let you inside, “He called me and told me like…his car got fucked up.”

               “His car got fucked up,” He deadpans, raising one eyebrow, “Are you sure he isn’t lying?”

               You scoff. “Seriously? Who would lie about that? He told me someone slashed his tires, broke his windows, banged up the doors and shit. So, he needed to go deal with it. We’re gonna reschedule.”

               Seonghwa runs one hand through his hair again, seemingly unbothered by how wet it is. Even his t-shirt is damp, clinging to his frame. He flexes his fingers on his right hand, an action that is unfamiliar to you. The muscles in his arms move. You’re staring and don’t know why. It’s like he was mid shower when he got out or something, you think.

               “So, I’m the backup plan?” He asks and there’s a strange edge to the sentence, stripping it of any humor.

               You blink, thrown by the tone. “No, I didn’t…”

               But Seonghwa smiles then, and his voice is back to normal. “It’s cool. I wasn’t doing anything tonight. We can hang out. You wanna watch TV?”

               You nod, trailing after him into the comfort of his living room. He goes into the kitchen, opening the fridge and leaning forward to try to find something to drink. His t-shirt lays flat across his back, his black hair curling against the nape of his neck, still dripping onto the tile. You stare at him for a few seconds before settling in on the couch. You’re suddenly acutely aware of the dress you’re wearing although most of it is covered up by the hoodie. He didn’t seem to notice your outfit or makeup anyway. Be serious. He’s seen you on dates a lot of times.

               There is the sound of a beer opening as Seonghwa returns to the couch, tossing you a bottle of water as he plops down next to you. You glance at him out of the corner of your eyes as he takes a swig from the beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing while swallowing.

               “Aren’t you afraid you’re going to ruin the couch with your hair dripping everywhere?”

               He tilts his face in your direction and then rests his head directly on the back of the couch. You roll your eyes.

               “Get a towel.”

               “Nah, I’m good.”

               “You’re just trying to annoy me now.”

               “Yup.”

               The exchange is so normal and familiar that you don’t even realize you’ve sunken onto the couch next to him as he flips through the channels. The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, so comfortable that you forget the box stuffed away in Seonghwa’s bathroom for the first time since discovering it.

               Apparently, he is comfortable too because at some point, you realize you’re hearing soft snoring. Surprised, you look over at him. He’s dozed off, eyes closed, chest rising and falling peacefully. His mouth is open slightly, head to the side, blissfully unaware of his wet hair. Seonghwa often kept odd hours and it wasn’t so strange for him to fall asleep as soon as he got even mildly relaxed.

               Mixed emotions are mingling inside your chest – a concoction of anxiety, peacefulness, and a sense of impending doom. In this quiet moment, it is as though you’re standing on a beach watching a tsunami approach. You’ve been trying so hard to run from the change that swept in with discovering that tiny box underneath the bathroom sink.

               You want to lean over and wake Seonghwa up, just ask him what is going on. But you still balk at the conversation and at tarnishing this moment where everything feels so normal.

               You wonder if the box is still under the sink.

               Maybe you imagined it.

               With one last glance at Seonghwa, you get up. Even though you’re walking to the bathroom, you cannot shake the guilt feeling swooping over your chest. You glance over your shoulder. He’s still perfectly asleep.

  Seonghwa’s bedroom door is next to the bathroom, slightly ajar. You glance inside out of habit. His bed is perfectly made with a couple of framed posters on the walls. There isn’t anything out of place but…

Maybe it’s the way the light from the hallway lays across the carpet or maybe you’re spending too long looking inside but before you completely pass by something shines for a split second. You slow down and then stop, hovering in the doorway to his room. Your heart is beating quickly now.

One final look in Seonghwa’s direction to ensure he’s sleeping sends you into his bedroom. Now who is breaking boundaries? A little voice in your head remarks cruelly. You cross the carpet towards what caught your eye – the glint of something similar to a knife. The bathroom towel has been quickly thrown over whatever it is.

Bending down, your fingers hover over the towel. Your entire body is screaming for you just to leave and get out of there. You’re snooping, you’re keeping secrets, you’re posturing as if Seonghwa has done something unforgiveable but meanwhile you’re not doing anything better –

You snatch the towel off the object and your heart falls into a pool of ice water.

An axe is laying on the floor. You stare at it while the hair on the back of your neck stands up. “The doors have these deep gash marks in the side like some lunatic took a fucking axe to it!” The words of your date ring in your head with deafening volume. You think about Seonghwa asking for information about the client and how you babbled endlessly in order to convince him this date was real. You knocked on the door and he hadn’t been ready for you, soaking wet, barely toweled off as if he had been busy…what, hiding the axe under the towel?

This is insane. Do you realize what your brain is jumping to? What are you trying to suggest? That Seonghwa went out to this guy’s place and ruined his car? Do you know what that implies? It implies he’s not just crushing on you. It implies there’s something…wrong. There’s something wrong with him. That’s what you’re thinking about your best friend right now.

The anxiety hits you full force in the chest then. You can hardly breathe, quickly covering up the axe and stumbling to your feet. You didn’t know what to do. You don’t even know what to say to him. The most important thing is getting out of here –

“What are you doing?”

You almost jump out of your skin, whirling around to see Seonghwa’s figure in the doorway. His face is half in shadow and one hand is on the door frame. You take a step back, almost tripping over the axe while straightening up.

“I thought you were sleeping,” You mumble and all efforts to make your voice sound normal fail.

“I woke up.” His voice is different, altered.

Seonghwa takes a step into the room and his face is clearer now. Yet there is that same look you have seen flashes of before. The complete emptiness of expression, the utter blankness behind his eyes. There is nothing familiar about him now.

“Now,” He says in a cold voice, “Who is the one breaking boundaries?”

You swallow hard while your brain fumbles for an excuse. But instead of speaking one, what leaves your mouth is, “Why do you have an axe?”

“Is it illegal to own one?”

“No but it’s a little strange to have it on your bedroom floor underneath a towel.” You try to make it come out like a lighthearted joke but your voice quivers, giving you away.

Seonghwa takes another step. In exchange, you back up, over the axe and closer to his night table. It seems ridiculous to be afraid of your best friend. But it also is ridiculous to have a secret box in the bathroom and an axe on the floor.

His right hand flexes and his jaw is clenched. You get the feeling he is trying to wrangle himself under control – but from what? He has all the qualities of the Seonghwa you know but it’s like someone smeared him with a layer of paint and distorted him.

You try again. “Why do you have the axe, Seonghwa?”

He doesn’t answer. Just moves closer. You’re cornered now. He’s near enough to touch, to grab his shirt and demand he answer you – this man you don’t know, this man you’re realizing you might not know at all.

“Why are you in my room?” Seonghwa makes a small noise, a tsk tsk, before adding, “Gonna have to ask for my key back, I think. Didn’t we just discuss boundaries?”

Up this close, you can better see the blankness in his eyes. You can smell the familiar scent of his shampoo and body wash. Your mind is telling you to run but your heart is whispering that this is your best friend, just hug him and talk it out. You don’t know what to do.

You say Seonghwa’s name so softly, just a wisp of a thing against the boiling emotions that are brimming to the surface inside him. “Why do you have some of my things under your bathroom sink?”

Seonghwa recoils, eyes widening in surprise. Your brain tells you to push past him, take this chance and run. But your feet don’t listen. Even now, you want to hear him out. You’re desperate to prove this all some fucked up misunderstanding.

You keep going. “That bracelet. From the night of the festival. And my….my underwear. Why do you have those things? My date calls me, says his car got trashed and that it looks like an axe was taken to the sides and then you’re scurrying around when I knock, hide an axe under a towel. Where were you earlier? Seonghwa, where were you earlier? Why do you have those things? Tell me. If you don’t want me to walk out of here, tell me. If you don’t want to fuck up the friendship, tell me.”

He tilts his face away from you, eyes glassy, looking at nothing. He’s grinding his teeth, something else you’ve never seen him do. Seonghwa’s profile is striking but no longer comforting. When he looks back at you, your lower back nudges into the night table and your hands grip the edge, staring at him.

“I want to fuck up the friendship. I’ve always wanted to fuck up the friendship,” He declares.

You shake your head. “You don’t mean that. That’s not how things are with us –”

“That’s always been how things are with us!” He shouts suddenly, loud enough to make you flinch.

“No! No, Seonghwa, that isn’t true –”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” His eyes are alive now, twisted, no longer blank but not belonging to him either. He’s so close to you now, dangerously so. The warmth of his body is seeping into yours. The rage is swimming off him, strong enough to knock you over. You have never seen Seonghwa so angry before…and certainly never at you.

“I’m not, I’m not lying,” You plead, wanting to touch him but too afraid of making things worse, “I’m not lying. I was just – I was just trying to understand. The box under the sink and the axe…”

“You’re a smart girl, stop pretending like you don’t know,” Seonghwa growls out, “You know why I have those things under the sink.”

“The bracelet –”

Seonghwa is bristling with an intense energy as he replies, “From the festival night! See, you remember. You knew immediately where it was from. It slipped off your wrist when you were at one of the games, landed in the dirt. I took it. I took it because that was the night I thought ‘maybe’. I thought maybe you’d realize how badly I wanted you. And I think you did realize it. But you looked the other way. I love you but fucking hell, you look the other way when anything might change. But I’m patient. I can wait. I can take care of things and I can wait.”

I love you he had said, so effortlessly, so easily. The air is knocked out of your lungs by his casual admission. Seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice nor care he said it. He just stated it as though it was a fact, like the sun rising every morning. He runs his fingers through his hair, his brow furrowed in memories.

“The underwear, do I gotta explain that? Like I said, you’re smart. You know. I didn’t think you were coming home that night. I thought you were out, picked up by a guy or something. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I had shoved the underwear in my pocket before you got there and it just felt so damn good to be in your bed. Everything smelled like you and just…it was just a lot, you know?” His eyes land on you. “It was wrong to lie, tell you I was drunk. It was the fastest thing I could think of.”

“You lied to me?”

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa says seriously and you realize he believes lying about being drunk was the worst thing he did that night, not using your key or stealing your underwear.

“You’re – you’re sorry? You violated my boundaries, you slept in my bed, you stole my…and then you lied to me,” You reply aghast, “It’s like I don’t even know you, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa is starting to look anguished now. He goes to reach for you, thinks twice and drops his hands to his sides before taking a step back, carefully skirting around the axe. Then he stops, considering it before picking it up and tossing it onto the bed, making you flinch again.

“Don’t act like that,” Seonghwa says sternly, pointing to you, “Don’t do that. It’s me, alright? It’s me. You’ve known me since we were kids. I’m still the same person.”

You swallow hard, unable to reply.

He continues to talk, pacing the room. “Listen, for how long I’ve been in love with you, I think – I think I’m doing alright. I’ve never done anything bad to you. I have always had your back. That one asshole back in college – that professor. The science one. Remember? I made sure to stop that shit before it got out of hand. He was out of bounds asking you out. That’s wrong. You’re a – you’re a student.”

The floor is unsteady underneath your feet. You’re staring at Seonghwa as he paces, wondering if you’re going to faint. “That was you? He couldn’t even come back to work after that. He needed physical therapy. His legs…”

“Okay, in my defense,” He holds out one hand to ward off your criticism, “In my defense, I didn’t realize until later I maybe shouldn’t have brought the bat down so hard.”

Your eyes fall to the axe. You’re almost afraid to ask.

But Seonghwa follows your gaze and he immediately makes a noise of protest. “I didn’t lay a hand on that guy.”

“But…but his car…”

“So what? It’s a car. Which he thought was more important than you seeing that he cancelled the date, by the way,” He is talking so quickly that it is hard to follow his words, “You gave me so much information about him and this idiot – I mean, he’s a real idiot, alright? He had so much public information about himself. I found his address in like, two minutes. I mean, this is not the sort of guy you want to be with. He’s too stupid for you.”

You’re feeling dazed now like you got hit with the axe instead of the client’s car. “How did you not get caught?”

“He doesn’t live in the city. Lives in the suburbs, some big fancy ugly house with a private garage. Slipped in, slipped out.” A thought strikes him and Seonghwa moves towards you, holding his hands out to calm you down as if you’re a scared deer. “But I didn’t hurt him. I wasn’t going to hurt him. You seemed to really like the moron. I just wanted to see how badly he wanted to go on a date with you. If his material items were more important than seeing you.”

Thunderstruck, you reply, “Seonghwa, you trashed his fucking car.”

He scurries over, extremely close to you once again. He looks so warm and inviting again, earnest as ever as he goes, “And he picked it over you. He isn’t a good fit for you. Not like me. You get it? Not like me.”

You can only stare at him, unable to reply. Too much is happening. There is too much new information occurring at once. And the way Seonghwa is standing there, looking so open and honest – the polar opposite of earlier when he came into the bedroom, is making things confusing.

Seonghwa tilts his head to the side, his voice a soft murmur while studying your face. “Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve protected you from is because I love you. I’ve always loved you. The entire reason I exist is to love you. I’d follow you to the end of the earth. I’d follow you into hell. Some part of you had to know that. You felt it, didn’t you?”

Your breathing is quick and shallow. You’re grateful for the barrier of the hoodie because you’re acutely aware of how close you are to your best friend. You’re thinking about him moving to the city, and then into your building. You’re thinking of all the various strange occurrences you tried to steadfastly ignore – people getting injured after upsetting you, job interviews that felt horrible only for them to offer you a position, Seonghwa up all hours of the night on his computer looking exhausted and claiming it was just work, the beleaguered quick expression on his face whenever you mentioned him going on a date…

Seonghwa makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “You’re scared. It’s okay. You never liked change and you were never good with your feelings.”

You squeeze your eyes closed while saying, “I thought you’d think I was smitten with him. That you’d…you’d drop this. And we could go back to normal. I didn’t think you’d…”

“Go back to normal?” He scoffs, “What is normal for you? Ignoring what is right in front of you?” Very slowly and carefully, he brings the back of his hand to your cheek, gently brushing it along your skin. The touch makes your heart thud violently in your chest. Seonghwa looks at you tenderly. “I would be so good to you. I’m a perfect fit for you.”

“Seonghwa…” You aren’t sure if his name is a curse, a prayer or just a whimpered plea to let things stay the same.

He is close enough to your body now that you know what is going to happen next. You should push him away, get out of here and call the police on him.

But you don’t.

Instead, you allow Seonghwa to kiss you.

Your mouth opens underneath his, tasting your best friend in a way that is entirely new. The sensation of his lips on yours is dizzying in the most twisted way possible. Seonghwa’s hand goes to the back of your neck as the kiss grows more intense. His tongue is in your mouth and he makes a tiny noise – like some small bit of him is finally finding relief. You aren’t even sure if you’re breathing, too swept up by the mind-bending things that have occurred in the last ten minutes. As the kiss deepens, you tilt your head to the side, your tongue against his now.

There is a small voice in the back of your head quietly asking you what the fuck are you doing? Not only is this Seonghwa of all people but he’s obviously mentally unstable. But there is a heat swooping through your body and there is a need cracking through something inside you that is made worse by the fact you’re thinking about how he’s always had your back since first meeting.

Your hand is gripping the bottom of his t-shirt. You aren’t sure whose ragged breathing you’re hearing but certainly it cannot be yours because you must’ve died ten minutes ago. That’s the only logical explanation for why you’re now desperately kissing Seonghwa; it just simply couldn’t be happening like this.

The heat is unspooling in your chest now, dropping to your thighs. Seonghwa makes another quiet noise while kissing you, so fragile yet tense, and it is in that noise that the desire and fear smash together and overwhelm you.

You push him away with a small gasp, wiggling free from the confined space and placing your hand against the wall to steady yourself.

“I can’t,” You gasp out – although is directed to you or your best friend?

Looking over your shoulder at Seonghwa, he’s staring at you with blown out pupils while his chest rises and falls rapidly.

“You can’t what?” He drawls coldly, “You can’t what?”

You shake your head while saying, “I should be calling the police on you. You’ve hurt people. You’ve damaged people’s property.”

“Oh, please!” His mood shifts quickly again, his tone hostile. He approaches you, so close again, enough to see that his lips are slightly wet from the kissing. “Stop pretending. Stop pretending you don’t feel it.”

But it’s too much – all of it. You shake your head, afraid of…of what? Seonghwa? No, something else. Something worse.

You’re afraid of yourself.

“I can’t – I have to go,” You say, pushing past him, “I can’t do this.”

In all your years of friendship with him, you’ve never run out of his apartment. There has never been any reason to. But you leave Seonghwa in his bedroom with the axe on the bed, quickly scampering down the hallway. You cast a glance over your shoulder to see if he is following.

But he isn’t.

And you’re not sure how you feel.

*

               There is no sleep that night, only replaying the entirety of your friendship with Seonghwa like a horrible movie in your mind. You try picturing him taking the bat to that teacher’s legs but it is an impossible thing to imagine. You wonder what else he’s done. He’s been off, slinking around in the night, breaking into your apartment, sleeping in your sheets.

               You roll onto your side, staring at the edge of your bed. What is Seonghwa doing right now? Is he thinking of you? Most likely, since it has become clear that all he thinks about is you. He isn’t a good fit for you. Not like me. You get it? Not like me. His confession bangs around in your brain, refusing to give you any peace.

               You’re back at the festival, watching him win you the stuffed animal. Seonghwa’s head is cocked to the side as he thrusts the stuffed animal towards you, grinning. You try to refuse it at first but he shakes his head, saying he has no use for it. His hair is softly glowing against the lights. His fingers brush against your wrist while accepting the gift. You feel a sense of contentment knowing you’re here with him and not crying in your room alone.

               What happened the next day? Your ex’s dorm room goes up in flames due to an unattended candle left burning. You remember laughing about karma with Seonghwa.

               But it wasn’t karma.

Unless Seonghwa is your karma.

Your brain circles to the one thing you’ve been trying the most not to think about: the kiss. It is something you’ve never ever considered. Kissing Seonghwa had always been something firmly planted in the realm of impossibility. Anyone of sound mind would have called the police on him, and what did you do? You kissed him.

And even worse, something that you can only admit in the dead of night when the world is still and quiet: you liked it. You enjoyed the small noises of relief Seonghwa made, how hot his body temperature ran, how his t-shirt was gripped in your hand. You enjoyed his desperation. You enjoyed his dedication.

What the fuck did that say about you?

*

               You’ve never gone this long without hearing from Seonghwa. It’s been four days and you keep expecting him to show up. You think he might even be waiting in your apartment every time you come home from work. You almost wish he was. But he isn’t. His silence is throwing you off.

               Maybe Seonghwa is going to skip town, you think in the silence of your bedroom one night. He might think I’m going to turn him in and he’s trying to get ahead of it. The idea of Seonghwa vanishing is eating you up inside. You just want to talk to him.

               But now you feel like the stalker, taking the elevator one floor down to his place with his apartment key in your hand. Even if Seonghwa ignores me, I’m gonna go inside, you think, if he can do it to me, I can do it to him. I just want to talk to him. Your mind is flickering to the kiss. You’re thinking about staying up late with him watching movies over the years. You’re remembering how he stopped going to the coffee shop where that woman was interested in him. You can taste him in your mouth.

 ��             At the front door of his apartment, you knock. Softly at first. No reply. You knock again. You stand there, debating what to do. The key is heavy in your hand.

               What Seonghwa has done is wrong. It’s not just illegal, it’s fucked up.

               But no one in your life has ever looked out for you in the way he did and continues to do.

               His hair, wet, dripping onto the tile in the kitchen. His right hand flexing. The blank look in his eyes. The axe on the bed.

               Still no answer.

               The key is heavy in the lock, and the tumblers sound like gunshots as you turn it. Quietly, you push open the door and creep inside Seonghwa’s apartment. There aren’t any lights on. Silence settles across the place like a blanket. You shut the door softly, wondering why you’re doing this.

               But still, you continue, creeping down the hallway towards his bedroom. The door is open and moonlight filters in through his bedroom window, leaving a small band of white along the hallway floor. You hover outside Seonghwa’s room before pushing the door open wider to allow yourself in.

He’s sprawled out on the bed, asleep. You stand next to it, looking at the way the moonlight lays across his face. His black hair is messy, lips parted slightly as his breathing goes slow and deep. Some logical part of you knows it is bizarre to be watching your best friend sleep like this after using his key. You’re not any better than he is when you act like this, it scolds you.

But you study Seonghwa’s face. The moonlight washes his skin out. His bone structure is so familiar to you but tonight, you’re thinking that once again he looks like someone scrambled his face up with a large brush and showed you it.

You raise your hand to reach for his shoulder. You’re going to wake him up. To ask him…what? You’re not sure. You just want to talk to him.

But before you can touch him, Seonghwa’s hand reaches out in a flash and grabs your wrist, his eyes startingly empty. You gasp in surprise and almost fall back but he is holding onto you too tightly.

“You’re creeping around my place again. I might start getting the wrong idea,” Seonghwa’s voice sounds taunting, almost venomous, “I might start thinking you want to fuck me.”

You’ve never heard him speak like that.

“I wanted to talk,” You reply but the words sound so absurd given you used his key and were watching him sleep.

“No, you didn’t,” He retorts.

No, you didn’t.

Seonghwa pulls you down and you kiss him again, open mouthed and desperate. You gasp from the force of his lips on yours as though he wants to devour you. He’s half sitting up, his hand on the back of your neck, and you’re getting in his lap now, straddling him as his tongue slips into your mouth. He bites down on your bottom lip, tugging it with his teeth until you make a noise and the kiss breaks.

His hands are cupping your cheeks. Seonghwa is looking at you almost deliriously. You hadn’t changed before coming over, just wearing a thin pair of sweatpants which means you can feel him stiff in his own pair, rock hard already, pressing against your thigh.

It’s you who speaks first.

“Why didn’t you talk to me the last few days?” It sounds almost plaintive.

He’s studying your face as his thumbs graze your cheeks. “I was waiting for you to either turn me in or come see me. Whatever ended up happening, I knew what it would mean.”

Breathlessly, you reply, “I wasn’t going to call the cops.”

His thumb is running over your lips. Seonghwa is looking at you mesmerized as if he has never seen something so wonderful as you in his lap. No one has ever looked at you in this way.

“Everything I did, I did because I love you,” His voice sounds like a raw wound, “Do you get that now?”

“I get it now,” You reply, knowing it’s wrong, knowing it’s fucked up, knowing you must have lost it.

His grip on your chin tightens ever so slightly as his eyes grow intense. “I was looking out for you from the moment we first met. I have always protected you. I’ve always made sure no one would harm you and if they did, I ensured they got what was coming to them. You deserve the best. You always have,” His voice is hurried, emotional, “I always have tried to give you the best because I love you.” His fingers dig into your skin. “Do you get that? Do you understand how much I love you? God, sometimes, you would look right through me and it felt like the entire world was ending. Like the ground was just shattering underneath my feet. But I never dreamt of leaving your side. I love you too much even if you didn’t feel the same. I told myself I would just protect you until I died.”

His voice is pure agony, a crackling and fizzling of the years that have gone by spilling out from in between his lips. “You looked at me with such fear the other day when you were in my room, staring at the axe. As if…as if I would ever hurt you. It’s so absurd. I would never do anything to you. Everything I do is because I love you.”

“Seonghwa,” You breathe out shakily, “Your hand…. it’s too tight…”

His eyes drop to the way he’s gripping your face and he releases his hand immediately, apologizing. Your head is swimming, torn between the logical mind telling you to leave and your irrational heart pulled by his words, his love, his promises and protection.

But he feels so good underneath you.

Your lips find his once more and whatever remains of Seonghwa’s speech dies in his mouth, lost in the groan he emits when you touch him again. He shifts slightly so that his leg is pressing against your pussy and you react by grinding down slightly on his knee, just enough to feel pressure against your clit. Your breath hitches as Seonghwa’s hands roam across your body – fondling your tits through your shirt, down across your hips before resting on your waist, pushing you down on his knee.

He’s kissing and biting your neck, hard enough to leave marks. Your hands are in his hair while you grind on his knee. At one point, he bites so hard that you gasp and you swear that he chuckles quietly. Seonghwa pulls away, looking at you with an expression of mingled lust and something more possessive.

“You’ll have to cover that up for your date.” His words are like stone but there is a flicker of toying amusement behind his eyes.

“What date?” You mumble, slightly dazed, too turned on by the way he’s touching you.

Seonghwa laughs, his teeth like daggers in the flash of moonlight before pulling you towards him. His kiss is greedy, one hand sliding under your t-shirt to cup your breast. You’re not wearing a bra, having come over here quickly without putting much thought into it. You can feel him smirk against your lips, as if the lack of one is telling him something you’re not privy to.

He pinches one of your nipples, making you jump. His other hand is on your lower back, steadying you on his knee as you continue to chase your orgasm. It’s evident Seonghwa isn’t going to try to stop you. He leans his head down, tugging your shirt up so that he can wrap his lips around your nipple, sucking on it hard. He switches to the other one, biting on it. You’re making soft noises, a cross between a plea and pleasure, dimly aware that to be doing this with Seonghwa means forever ruining the very friendship you were once so keen on saving. But maybe it never stood a chance. Maybe time just caught up with the dynamic.

When Seonghwa pulls away from your tits, he grabs the back of your head, forcing you to look at him while demanding, “I want to watch you cum. I want to see what you look like when you’re cumming. I’ve pictured it so many times in my head – no, don’t stop. Don’t slow down. There, good girl. Oh, do you like that? When I call you that? Is that gonna make you cum?”

You manage to nod even though his hold on you is tight. He looks different in the moonlight, different in the manner he’s openly staring at you without hiding his feelings. There’s an energy rolling off him that you’ve never felt before, something bubbling to the surface and spilling out – who he really is. Who he hid for so long. You feel like a small bug crawling into a Venus fly trap but you don’t want to turn away.

Your orgasm starts then, after Seonghwa calls you good girl in that voice of his that is dripping honey while hiding a dagger. You can’t believe that you just got off from grinding on your best friend’s knee but you barely have time to come down from the climax before he is slipping your shirt off over your head and tossing it to the side.

He’s groping your tits, rolling his thumbs across your nipples, in seemingly no hurry to fuck you. You thought the orgasm would bring clarity, give your mind release from the problematic thoughts you’ve been having about your messed up best friend and allow yourself to exit the situation.

But you feel no such thing. Instead, you find yourself removing his shirt as well before kissing him hungrily while your hands press against his chest. His arms wrap around your waist and in one swift motion, he has you against the pillows underneath him.

Seonghwa is hot to the touch, his skin almost feverish as your fingers trail down his shoulders and along his arms. He’s moving downwards, his tongue across your nipples, down your stomach, obscenely leaving a trail of his salvia until he reaches your sweatpants.

Hooking his thumbs into the band, he yanks them down, leaving you in just your underwear. He nudges your thighs apart, pressing one finger along your pussy.

“You’re soaking wet,” Seonghwa drawls, sounding both pleased and tormented, “Underwear is fucking glued to your pussy.”

There is something fucked up and thrilling hearing your best friend talk like this. Seonghwa has always been so nice, so thoughtful over the years. Even when he would discuss his dates, he never dove into any details that would come off disrespectful. But now, mask off, it’s evident he’s perverted and unhinged on top of being psychotic. So why do I like it so much?

Seonghwa abruptly grabs the sides of your underwear and rips it with his hands. There is a loud tearing of fabric, his eyes alight while doing so, and then you’re exposed to him. Instinctively, you squirm, trying to close your legs. But Seonghwa is faster and his hands are on your thighs, keeping you open in front of him. His eyes look upwards to meet yours.

“No, I want to see how wet your pussy is from me. No hiding now. I’ve daydreamed about tasting your sweet cunt for far too long.” He turns his gaze back downward, one finger against your wet slit. “God, look at how fucking good you look,” The desperation in his voice is obvious, “What a perfect pussy.”

Seonghwa leans forward and his tongue is in your hole with a pornographic slurping noise as he tastes you for the first time. His nose bumps against your clit as he buries his face in between your thighs, trying to get his tongue as far as possible inside you.

“Fuck,” His words are muffled, “You taste so fucking good. You taste exactly how I knew you would. Can’t believe it took this long to taste your sweet cunt,” His hold on your thighs tightens, “Drives me fucking crazy knowing others had it before me. They didn’t deserve it.”

His tongue drags along your folds until he places a kiss on your clit, just enough to make you shiver. You know that you shouldn’t look down. It will make the entire situation feel entirely too real. But you don’t listen and instead prop yourself on your elbows slightly, just enough to look down at Seonghwa in between your legs.

His eyes catch yours and he lewdly flicks his tongue across your clit just to drive the point home that this is happening and you’re enjoying it. You sharply inhale, your hand grabbing onto the bedsheet. He closes his eyes, focusing on rolling his tongue over your clit slowly, just enough to drive you crazy. You cannot tear your gaze away from Seonghwa of all people doing this to you, making you feel this good. In the moonlight, his shoulders almost glow, and some of his hair has fallen in front of his eyes.

While Seonghwa is working your clit, he slips one finger inside your hole, meeting no resistance from how wet it is. You squirm, head rolling back a little from the new sensation. Still, he doesn’t miss a beat, continuing his soft licks on your clit while pumping his finger. Your eyes flutter closed. It had been a long time since someone ate your pussy this good. It is just fucked up that it’s your best friend.

Seonghwa pulls his finger out of you, eliciting a whine that would be embarrassing in any other case but he quietly shushes you. “Needy girl, you want my tongue back on your clit? Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

You look down at him, your cheeks warm. His eyes are devious, a smirk on his face, making his cheeks stand out more than usual as he shakes his head to get his hair out of his face.

You nod and he looks gravely serious. “No, tell me. I want to hear you tell me.” His voice is ice cold, allowing no argument. You’ve seen him this way a few times, always when he is angry and never at you. No, always at someone who did something mean to you though, the little voice whispers.

“I want your tongue back on my clit,” You say meekly because begging Seonghwa for such a thing is a foreign concept.

He stares at you for a second or two longer before suddenly spitting on your clit and smearing it in with his thumb. Your hips buck automatically from the sudden pleasure.

“You’re so sensitive,” He murmurs, “Gonna be so easy to make you cum again.” Seonghwa sounds lost in his daydreams and you cannot fathom how many times he’s thought about this.

His finger is back in your cunt and his tongue is flicking across your clit faster now. He adds a second digit, pumping them hard and fast, stopping occasionally to wiggle them deep inside you. His face is pressed against your pussy, sucking on your clit and sometimes stopping just to spit on it again. Seonghwa is groaning when he’s eating you out, as if he is driven to intoxication from the taste of you.

You can no longer prop yourself up on your elbows, instead sinking back down among the pillows. One of your hands reaches down for Seonghwa, his hair wrapping around your fingers as you desperately hold onto him so he doesn’t stop. He makes a noise of approval, fucking you harder with his fingers.

And it feels just too good and it feels even worse because it’s Seonghwa, the person you know the most and the person you don’t know at all. When your climax starts, his name leaves your lips broken and shattered, forever changed by what happened tonight.

When Seonghwa pulls away, his eyes are ablaze. You’re disoriented from cumming so hard two times already but he pulls you towards him. His lips crush yours in a sloppy kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue. When the kiss breaks, there’s a long strand of spit connecting the two of you. He’s holding the back of your neck again, looking at you as though you’re trapped in his web.

“Oh, my name sounds so good like that.” He rubs his thumb across your lips, and the spit makes a mess, “You’re such a pretty thing.”

You like the way Seonghwa talks to you as if you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. But you suppose to him, you are. You’re feeling an aching desire to have him inside you, to know what it would be like to be fucked by him. Tentatively, you reach for his groin, pressing your hand against the tent. He inhales sharply but gives a firm shake of his head.

“Not yet,” He brushes your hand away, “You’re going to cum again.”

Surprised, you open your mouth to say something but before you can, he places two fingers on your tongue. Without questioning it, you wrap your lips around them and then immediately wonder why you didn’t even hesitate. You swirl your tongue around his fingers while he watches, entranced at the sight.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. I can’t get enough of you. Now, sit on my face.”

Seonghwa pulls his fingers out of your mouth, snapping his fingers at you after he issued his command. You’re not even thinking anymore, lost completely to whatever pull you feel towards him and the promises of more pleasure. He’s on his back, motioning for you to hurry up. You try to carefully straddle his face but he makes a noise of impatience, reaching upwards to grab your hips and yanking you down so that your pussy is against his face.

His tongue dives into your hole and you make a noise of surprise, gripping the headboard of his bed. He’s eating your pussy like a man starved, not stopping to let you adjust at all. His hands are holding onto your hips, keeping you in place as he brings his tongue swooping up to your clit, swirling around it. This time is a lot more urgent as though it is more for him than you.

The sounds of Seonghwa eating your pussy sounds graphic but it is the way he is moaning while doing it that is turning you on. You like how he sounds, so desperate and his voice muffled, and when you move your hips gently against his face, he makes a noise to let you know to keep going.

So you do, grinding against his face. He moves his tongue back to your hole and you can feel his nose against your clit while rocking your hips. Your clit is growing sensitive from all the overstimulation and sometimes your hips bounce a little when it becomes too much. Seonghwa notices this and instead of giving you a break swoops his tongue back over your clit, flicking it hard and fast.

Your grip tightens on the headboard but you’re close to cumming again. Your thighs are shaking, panting with your tongue poking from in between your lips as you ride his face. With one last flick of his tongue, you moan out his name loudly, unable to stop from how much you’re working your pussy against his face. This orgasm is somehow even better than the earlier ones although it leaves your body shaking. You slide off him, falling onto the bed, trying to catch your breath.

Seonghwa sits up, kicking off his sweatpants. With relief, you realize he’s going to fuck you. You’re unsure that you could handle another orgasm again so soon after the others. Your head is dazed and thighs sore and you’re pretty sure that your pussy is a mess of your juices and Seonghwa’s spit.

He’s stroking his length, drinking in the sight of your naked body on his bed with the same fascination of someone viewing a beautiful painting. He shakes his hair out of his face again while getting to his knees, his hand still wrapped around his cock.

“You’re gonna cum around my cock next.”

You give a small shake of your head, out of breath. “I don’t think I can cum anymore.”

“Of course you can,” Seonghwa replies simply while positioning himself over your body.

His skin against yours is heavenly and hellish, weighted by the knowledge you’re tumbling into bed with your best friend who isn’t as stable as previously believed. But what does it say about you that it won’t leave your mind? He’s propped up over you, studying your face with such intensity that you break eye contact, feeling exposed. His cock is pressing at your entrance as your hands go to his sides, gingerly touching his hot skin.

Seonghwa lowers his face down to kiss you while sliding inside your wet entrance. You arch your back, fingers digging into his waist as he enters you easily. His lips are back on your neck, emitting a sigh that is a mingle of relief and tension all at once.

His words are muffled as he goes, “You feel so good. Your pussy is made for me. I was meant to be in this pussy every night.”

Seonghwa is curled around you, taking his time. He’s moving slowly, lost in the sensation of your walls tightening around his cock. Your hands glide upwards to his hair once again, bunching it in between your fingers as you wrap your legs around his waist.

When Seonghwa speaks again, he sounds lost, as if he isn’t even present in the moment. “I love you so much,” He grunts, going still for a second to collect himself before thrusting a little harder, “I love you so fucking much. I’d do anything for you, I’d do anything to be in your cunt like this. You just had to ask. But you never did.”

Your body is warm all over, each nerve in your body responding to his passion in a way that you didn’t think was possible. The voice in your head that has been pointing out how wrong it’s been all night is eerily silent. Instead, you tilt your head so that Seonghwa looks at you. Your foreheads are touching and when you speak, your lips graze his.

“Tell me what you’d do for me,” You plead softly.

His breath catches, his cock buried inside you to the hilt while he replies, “Anything. You know that. You already know some of what I’ve done. And I don’t regret any of it. I’d do it again,” He starts moving his hips faster now, plunging his length in and out of your soaking wet hole while his breathing grows laboured, “I’d do anything for you.”

The words make your head light. You’re moving your hips in time to his thrusts, tugging on his hair to let him know to keep going. Hearing your best friend make noises of pleasure, noises you’re not supposed to hear from him, is making you only desire more.

Seonghwa shifts positions, just enough so that your legs are bent back so he can hit your sweet spot with every jerk of his hips. Your hands fall to the bedsheets once more, digging into them as he fucks you.

“You look so fucking beautiful taking my cock,” He grunts and runs his hand through his hair quickly with one hand to get it out of his eyes.

The gesture, so familiar, one you’ve seen him do often, strikes you in the chest. His desperation is evident in his eyes, in his voice, in every action he’s taken since he grabbed your wrist earlier. This is still your best friend, the realization dawning, this is still Seonghwa.

You’re just seeing all aspects of him now.

You aren’t sure what compels you to reach for his hand but you do, sliding it up to your neck. His eyes light up at what you’re requesting, that shark’s grin returning so quickly that it sends a shiver down your spine. His hand tightens around your neck while he fucks you. The muscles on his arm tightens; he pushes you back against the pillows while fucking you hard and fast.

“I’d do anything for you,” He repeats, voice breaking, “I’d have done anything you ever wanted if you just asked.” The pleasure is overtaking him and his mind is wandering, jumping from topic to topic, telling you all the things he’s ever thought about. “Fuck, my hand around your neck…” He grips you harder and you make a small noise which only drives his cock harder in your hole. “You look like a ragdoll taking my dick with your lips parted like that. I watched you through your window last week. You looked so tired. I thought – fuck, I thought about my hands around your neck, choking you while I fucked you into oblivion so you could sleep.”

I watched you through your window last week.

The angle and his hand on your neck is bringing you to another climax which you didn’t think could be possible. You can barely breathe, can barely move your hips to meet his thrusts. You’re so close to finishing, watching how Seonghwa’s eyes never leave your face, how intensely he is staring at you, no expression on his face as he fucks you.

With the little air you have left, you ask the question again. “Tell me what you’d do for me.” The words are so soft that you aren’t sure anyone else but Seonghwa could have heard them – he’s just too in tune with you.

“I’d fucking kill for you.”

And you’re cumming on his cock then. Seonghwa releases his grip on your neck so he can hear your hoarse moans. He hasn’t stopped fucking you, moving his hips the entire time you’re orgasming. You keep saying his name, your hips moving to meet his thrusts, making more noise than you ever have before.

Seonghwa pulls out, wiping the sweat from his brow before leaning forward, grabbing your face and going, “Open your mouth.” You do immediately and he spits in your mouth lewdly before kissing you hungrily. When it ends, he says roughly, “I’m gonna cum in your cunt now. Get on your knees.”

Your body protests a little while doing so, tired and sore from cumming so much and being fucked so hard. But once your ass is in the air, Seonghwa’s hands are on your hips, pulling you back onto his cock. He doesn’t waste any time and you know he must be dying to finish. You’re not used to someone putting their pleasure last like this.

The change in angle feels so good and you moan, prompting Seonghwa to go, “You’re cock starved, I love it. I love hearing you want more of me.” His hands slide to your lower back. “I love hearing you want me and none of those idiots you’ve wasted time on. All those fucking idiots. Made me sick.” He’s slamming his hips against your ass, his balls smacking against your pussy with each hurried thrust. “Makes me fucking sick to think of them touching you instead of me. They never deserved you. They never understood you, not like I did.”

You’re sinking into the bed, the weight of his hands on your lower back giving you no choice, your ass high in the air now as Seonghwa fucks you mercilessly. His voice is slurring at the edges, his words hazy like small things being tugged towards the light for the first time.

“I knew they couldn’t fuck you like I could or take care of you like I could. Just idiots, circling around you and I tried so hard to be nice. I wanted to be nice to those idiots because of you. Everything I do is because of you because I love you so much. F-fuck,” He does a particularly hard thrust and groans, “I wasn’t perfect. I knew I was doing bad things. Getting them fired from jobs. Snooping through their emails. Slashing their tires. I knew –” His breath caught, and his hands move to your ass, gripping it hard enough to leave marks. “I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t help myself. I was in love with you for so long and sometimes it’s enough to drive a man crazy.”

Seonghwa is fucking you so hard that you can’t even move. You lay against the bed, taking his cock, your eyes almost rolling into the back of your head from how it good it is. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. The way he’s fucking you combined with his speech is making your head utterly blank – it just feels so good. All of it feels so good. You think your tongue might be poking out from between your lips. All you know is he’s going to make you finish again.

“I’m gonna fuck you like this every night, I’m gonna – fuck. I’m gonna take care of you and I’m going to fuck you and no one is ever going to bother you again because you’re mine now. Tell me you’re mine, I want to hear you tell me.”

Using the last of your energy, you moan out, “I’m yours, I belong to you, I’m yours.”

Seonghwa grunts, giving one last thrust while going, “Now take my load in that sweet cunt of yours.”

His cum is warm in your cunt as he empties his balls, filling you up until it’s leaking out of your hole. You’re finishing again as well, perfectly in sync with your best friend. You’ve fallen on the bed, making an unholy amount of noise from the intense orgasm, completely overstimulated. Seonghwa has pulled out of your cunt, leaving a long strand of cum along your lower back as he finishes.

Your eyes are closed, feeling completely fucked out. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth; you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. Seonghwa shifts behind you, sliding off the bed, leaving the room. A few moments later, he returns and you can feel a towel along your back, cleaning you up before he shifts, sliding closer to your body.

Seonghwa’s arms carefully wrap around you, pulling your body towards him. You curl up against his chest, eyes closing. He’s kissing the top of your head, his fingers trailing along your back in gentle touches. All his earlier energy is gone, depleted, and now he is soft and inviting.

You tilt your face to look at Seonghwa, reaching upwards to graze his jawline with your fingertips. He kisses them too. Would it be so wrong to have everything with him? To be so adored and loved with someone who has known you forever? His eyes are cutting through your defenses, nuzzling into the soft spot of your brain that should know better.

Your lips find his.

A cloud covers the moon.

*

               You’re wearing just one of Seonghwa’s shirts, sitting on the edge of his bed in the morning light. He left twenty minutes ago to get coffee from your favourite spot, leaving you alone in his apartment.

               You’re thinking about him.

               You’re thinking about the soft kisses he gave you upon waking, his smile that you know so well, the way he looked shirtless in the morning light.

               He had cupped your cheek, said he was going to get coffee and you felt a pang at him leaving, even for just a little while. Even just for twenty minutes.

               Relief swoops through you when the front door opens, and Seonghwa calls your name. He comes down the hallway and stops in the doorway. His jacket is already removed, just wearing a hastily thrown on Star Wars t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He places one coffee cup on his dresser, running his fingers through his hair with his hand. He’s smiling, sitting down next to you.

               “I missed you,” He admits bashfully, holding onto your coffee, his eyes dropping to your lap, “Should I keep it?”

               Your hands are curled around the handle of the axe. You look at the blade; your reflection is distorted. He rests his chin on your shoulder, peering at you, waiting for your choice. Everything with Seonghwa is your choice because he loves you so much. He doesn’t question that you’ve been sitting in his bed, holding his axe, lost in thought.

               You’ve been thinking about what is right, what’s wrong and what you want.

               You kiss his forehead, and he makes a noise of contentment.

               “You should keep it,” You declare, shifting the axe into his lap carefully. “Just in case.”

               Seonghwa grins cheerfully.

               “Yeah, just in case.”

the end.

#ateez fics #ateez smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fics #seonghwa smut #the heart's filthy lesson #kpop fic #100 notes #500 notes #1000 notes

[fazedlight]

Hero (Kara character study. Angsty but gets better.)

I can save this world.

Kara looked herself over in the mirror, her chest puffing in silent pride at the symbol that lay across it. I am the last daughter of the House of El, she thought to herself. I am the last daughter of Krypton, and no one will ever forget it.

Her mind drifted to watching her cousin’s feats from her living room. Collapsed bridges, raging floods, villains - human and alien alike - who sought to cause harm. How he stood in the way, the El family crest on his chest, cape snapping in the wind. 

She couldn’t save her world, but she could save this one. She could make herself worthy of the House of El.

I can save this world.

She could still hear the screams from across the city, from the child she couldn’t get to on time. The fire had spread so rapidly that the mere minute it took for her to come up with an excuse and run away had cost a child his life. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, but there were others in the building she could still save.

She thought of asking Kal how he handled it, the loss of a single precious life that might still have been here had she been just a little better, just a little faster. But maybe he didn’t really deal with that - maybe she was just the failure he wasn’t. She had failed to be there for him, after all.

Then the news of her father’s involvement in Medusa came to light, and Kara stopped knowing how to feel about the sigil on her chest.

I can’t save this world.

It was the last conscious thought she had, as Reign’s hand loosened. She remembered starting to fall, but she couldn’t remember landing.

She was trapped - trapped in her own mind, away from everyone. Unable to escape. But she wasn’t damaged. She was stuck because… she was afraid? Because she was a failure. Because Reign represented everything she couldn’t be. How could she try to save the world, when destruction was so much easier than creation?

I can’t save this world.

What is it the man had said? “They’re not like you. You’re a superhero.” As though her cape made her any less a refugee who came here for safety, a child sent across skies to protect and be protected.

How does one fight a villain that lives in everyone’s soul, a piece of darkness and fear that turns outward with suspicion and hatred towards those that are different? Even if she was a shining example of the best of her kind, she would simply be discounted. “You’re one of the good ones,” they would tell her. Because hate was easy when there was fear.

I can save her.

Kara’s chest fluttered in panic as Lena held Myriad in her hand. It had been too easy, how quickly their relationship had recovered from Kara’s own cruelty. She never wanted the other shoe to drop. She hid, she always hid, hiding would always be easier than acknowledging the possibility of loss.

She thought she had lost enough in her life, but as the kryptonite encased her in the last remnant of her home, she could only feel a new type of regret.

I can’t save her.

Kara’s fists clenched as she stared down Lena on the balcony. You act like a villain, I’ll treat you like one, she thought to herself, hating herself every moment. She knew the torn woman in front of her was an adversary she had created. But she had tried, Rao, she had tried to do the right thing.

She didn’t know how she could live with the string of failure that had followed her ever since she had picked up the cape. But at the same time, she knew there came a point where - whatever she had created - she still needed to do what was right. 

Even if it meant giving up any hope of being with the woman she loved.

I can’t even save myself.

She could still feel the softness of Lena’s hand in her own when they reconciled. There was still so much they needed to talk about in the aftermath, something else she needed to confess. The bridge was there for them to cross, once it was all over.

But then the only option became to risk her own life. Her soul tore at Lena’s longing gaze when she left the Fortress, and Kara wondered if they would ever get the chance.

It was a twisted comfort, knowing that Lena cared, even in the midst of their fallout, even as Kara faced her eternity in the Phantom Zone.

They saved me.

Kara broke down sobbing when Alex shoved her under the sunlamp, feeling the painful tingling of her cells remembering how to process sunlight. Everything screamed at her - the thundering sound of the light breeze outside, and choking scent of motor oil from the passing cars, and the hammering of all her friends’ heartbeats from the Tower’s mainroom.

Her body screamed like she was 13 again, panic and joy overwhelming her, because the pain wasn’t tied to the loss like it was all those years ago. It was a second chance, with everyone she loved.

We can save the world. 

There was this exhilaration to being back, to seeing the blue oceans and red sunrises and green grass. Maybe it’s easy to get carried away, when you can forget what made everything so hard.

Her father was going to save this world from its own destruction. She was going to absorb the sun. It was easy to seek easy solutions for everything, only for it to solve nothing at all.

We can save the world, sometimes.

It felt so odd to smile and cry, as Lena pulled her into her arms. Kara’s mind jumped from seeing her sister so happy with Kelly as they danced, to the words that were missing. The words Kara needed to say to her best friend.

She knew in the night - once they were out of their wedding clothes and in their pajamas, curled up on Lena’s couch - the words would finally tumble out.

But as Lena stood in front of her, reminding her that the world wasn’t on her shoulders alone, Kara took the moment to pause. She thought of her old cape, torn up and folded neatly in her closet at home. The day she put it on, she never thought she’d need more than feats of strength to save the world.

But how could strength defeat masses manipulated into bigotry? How could strength defeat magic? How could strength defeat the best friend she had betrayed? She wasn’t here through strength alone, but through connection, and truth. As Lena reminded her, the only salve against the darkness was in standing together.

We can save each other.

A small smile crossed Kara’s face, as she watched Lena snooze next to her in the morning light, hearing her voice from the day before. “You can’t always be our savior, Kara. You shine your light and inspire others to shine theirs.” She could never save everyone. No one could. But that’s not what hope was about, as much as cynicism said otherwise. 

As Kara reached up to brush hair away from Lena’s face, she remembered the lyrical sound of her family motto falling from Lena’s lips. With each person who stood next to another, the spark grew. Perhaps they could someday create enough light.

Kara lowered her head, placing her forehead against Lena’s as she slept. As Kara listened to Lena's peaceful heartbeats and calm breaths, she found herself praying to Rao. Thank you for this spark.

#I think Kara is actually really hard on herself but doesn't let it show #apologies for inflicting this on all of you sometimes my brain just does this #supercorp #mel writes ficlets

[talenlee]

Why Is Druid?

Say that like ‘where is Wizard Hut?‘

I love the 4e Druid. This is a marked change from how much I liked the 3e druid, or how often you might see me playing a druid in a Baldur’s Gate game. Back in 3rd edition, the druid, despite being very powerful, never really engaged me, in part perhaps because I was always trying to find something exploitative and powerful rather than merely accepting the juggernaut of a toolkit the game just left in the Player’s Handbook. You couldn’t get clever with the Druid, you just had to pick it up and use it, like some sort of society of creative anachronisms where one of the anachronisms available to the players was has gun. Valid, but hardly sporting.

The Druid in 4th edition is different. Wildly different. Weirdly different, and different in one of those ways that shows what I think of as a seam in the design between 4th and 3rd editions of D&D.

The Druid was one of 3rd edition’s great mistakes, a full spellcasting class with healer capacity to serve as a pinch-hitter healer in a group that wanted things a little more varied, addressing an enormously complex potential build from its earlier edition, 2e, and all in the process, resulting in some deeply confused mash up of abilities that attempted to address confusion with volume. The druid of 2e had a special unique set of rules compared to the Cleric — for example, at a certain level, you passed into a specific category of Druidic ability and now you were technically a Hierophant, and Hierophants had seven extra spells of every level. Of course there was a limited supply of Hierophants in the world, so there was a question of if you could level up if another one existed, and maybe there’s a one-in, one-out policy? First in, first fired?

Anyway, I can’t speak to how it played, but I am at least aware, on the edges of it, that the 2e druid was odd. It had a lot of things it could do, but much of how it worked, reading the books, seemed to be interesting but challenging to manage. You could wild shape, you could heal, you could cast utility spells, you could even fight with some melee weapons — personally, I didn’t see any of it worth it, because none of the things it could do it could do very well.

3e addressed this seeming difficulty by instead taking all those different options and bringing them all up to the same level. Wild Shape worked by checking traits of monster units, which meant that you weren’t limited to specific reinterpretations of animals and instead could do what a druid feels like it should do — you know, turn into an animal. The spells were rebalanced and shared across different classes, which meant that they tended to work in a more standardised way. Armour rules were aggregated, and weapons were made less terrible.

The result was that the 3e druid went from being ‘decent’ at a bunch of things to ‘good’ at everything it wanted to do. The problem of the druid then became about picking the thing you wanted to at every opportunity, and doing a good job of it — you’d have druids carrying wands of healing so they could dedicate their spell slots to more important tasks, like Flame Striking opponents, or messing up the battlefield with roots. You’d also see druids keeping the ‘best’ list of animals on hand, and every new monster book presented a new chance for druids to develop a new best form.

It also created the strange question of What does the druid do?

The answer was ‘everything.’

The 4e Druid, in comparison and contrast to these designs is something very different that touches, at best, on the periphery of what the 3e Druid could be. I mean it stands to reason, you can only ever touch on doing everything when something you’re working from is so powerful. 4e with its role system of Defender, Striker, Leader and Controller, and its reliable, reusable balance math suddenly was confronted with fitting an elephant into a shoebox.

How do you represent something busted that could do everything in the context of a new system that sought to explicitly prevent that? I joked when the game was new that the four roles were Defender, Striker, Leader and Miscellaneous. That any class too powerful, with too much stuff it could potentially do, got thrown to the Controller role as suggested by the first Controller we ever saw being the Wizard. Oh and back in Player’s Handbook 1, the Wizard had a few builds that were pretty ridiculously pushed — the pinball wizard, I’ll talk about it sometime — and that meant that it was easy to feel like the Controller Does Everything.

That impression diluted through experience, of course, and eventually it came to that while yes, the Controller sure has some Miscellaneous vibes, the core of what the Controller was there to do was to attack the enemy action economy. Nice and obvious to a non giga-nerd, right? Okay, how about this: The leader lets you do more things, the controller stops them from doing more things?

And into this space, they poured the druid.

It works beautifully, for my tastes; the druid needs to do lots of things to feel properly druidy, but you need to make sure the doing lots of things doesn’t unbalance the game. Controllers have the widest variety of things they can do and ways they can do them – inflicting status conditions, changing enemy position, preventing specific action types, making areas on the battlefield inaccessible, these are all ‘controllery’ things, and that means there’s a lot of different ways you can flavour them. The Invoker is most famous for making zones in the play space hard to deal with, the Wizard has a build that slides things all over the place, and the psion controls people with immense penalties to their damage rolls.

Obligatory pause where, while reading this aloud, for either Fox or I to comment on how amazing it is that Dishearten is an AOE power.

Anyway, the druid was designed to be a mode switcher class. That is, there are two ways a druid can do things. One is a melee controller that makes a single target’s life harder, the other is a ranged controller that makes a large group of enemies’ lives harder. This mode switching then adds a new element to the class that your powers can interact with, where you now have control powers that can add a mode switching element to them as well. This is your Wild Shape – you transform into some kind of nonspecific beast, which can use your Wild Shape powers. Each form has fewer powers to manage, and you can build your druid to specialise in one or the other or do a mix.

This lets the druid do the ‘a lot’ without letting them actually do everything. You have a lot of choices and a lot of ways to play with those pieces, but even just how often you use the mode switch is part of what the druid does to control the battlefield. When I first played a druid, it was not uncommon to start a fight out of wild shape, use the first turn to make some kind of area control power, then shift into wild shape for the rest of the fight kicking people into that area control power. There are druids builds that work like wizards and only ever shapeshift to get away from problems, and make a hit while scuttling away, or to sit on a specific type of problem. There were druids who focused on summoning monsters and using them as kind of turrets on the battlefield, positioning allies in a way that benefitted them around those summons.

Lone artillery combat encounters, where you have a bunch of stuff in front of a long-ranged attacker? Druids love those. Even at level 1, that artillery is spending their days completely stuck underneath a Fire Hawk power.

Problem is, of course, that if you want to do Everything doing a Lot is going to miss something. That was what led to the subclasses of the druid, the ones that added healer elements to the druid, because the druid back in 3e could do that. It added animal companions, because the druid back in 3e could do that. Now I don’t worry too much about these things because if I wanted an animal companion on my Druid, I’d take a theme for that, but also because these changes were introduced in an Essentials book.

Which is to say, they’re crap.

They’re not crap crap, like I try to defend Essentials as giving players a choice for simplified character builds, but in the specific case of the Essentials Druids, in order to work with the simplified choices, these Essentials druids with their animal companions and their healing powers have to look at all other Druid powers and not use them. The only use they get out of their animal companion is using the specific subset of powers that make them work, and that makes combat more samey. But again: That’s a thing you probably want if you want a simplified build.

Still, it gives rise to my favourite joke – I mean like, funny thing, not really a joke, there’s no subversion of reality or anything here – about the Healer Druid. See, every Leader in the game gets an encounter power, usable twice a combat at level 1, that heals an ally with a bonus. Every class gets their own version that lets them distinguish their class specifically and add some interesting detail that shows how this Leader differs from other Leaders.

The Healer druid build gets Healing Word.

The Cleric power.

Literally, the same power, same name, listed as a Cleric power.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#DnD 4e #Dungeons & Dragons #Games

[lagsemantics]

Hi! Would you like to talk about your Soundwave Misfire rairpair? It's actually pretty cute ngl. How did they meet?

bahah thank you for asking!!

i've laready pestered @robot-rarepairs-dotcom about this in this specific ask but, yeah, why not yell it out loud and proud for the people in the back? and come to think of it maybe i should make a comic out of it sometime someday??? or a fanfic? no, i shant...

so. from the top. the war is still raging on all fronts. there is the fighting with blasters, guns, cannons ad whatnot, sure. but. its said that wars are won off the battlefield. and soundwave, as the chief intel officer is here to secure the rightful victory of the decepticons.

but its not an easy job by any means. there is infinite amount of information to be sourced and only so many tasks sw can attend to at a given moment. so knowing the right cybertronians and having mechs in the right places was all but crucial. and the neutral underground is one such place. but here comes an obstacle. neutrals dont take kindly to 'cons. it'd be a long and tedious process to plant a new network in there. it'd be so much easier if soundwave could find anyone who is already a regular in those spaces. and time is of the essence. there must be something, someone...

...and here comes the idea to employ the scavengers as contacts.

soundwave is naturally skeptical of the idea. the scavs? the bottom of the bottom of the barrel? undisciplined, lousy and, most probably, disloyal? but that just further proves the point. no one would put them under scrutiny. no one would pay them any mind, no one would care. they could slip in anywhere, anytime, get what soundwave needs and then disappear with no trace, since no one even payed them more than a passing glance and a dismissive scoff.

their questionable allegiance is another thing. the one thing soundwave is certain theyre loyal to is survival. he can grant them that. the decepticon high command has a lot of shanix to spare.

and its not like they need to get any major missions, either. soundwave could run a test trial to figure out whether this solution was at all worth investing into.

besides, the scavenegers (as most of the low-ranks) were expendable assets, after all.

and so the chief intelligence officer yields. soon after they send an anonymous signal to the w.a.p., requesting to meet their representative in some shithole bar on a neutral planet.

misfire lost the straw pull and was chosen to be the representative. which in practice meant he was the one speaking with the mysterious figure while the rest of the gang was to sit around (mostly) quietly and listen. and enage if the things went south. because, where one goes, the others do as well.

only when the mission renders sucessful, soundwave reveals himself - to shock and awe of the scavs. but, nevertheless, a long term symbiotic relationship formed. scavengers did what they were instructed to, to mixed results, but they did nontheless. soundwave paid accordingly. all was well.

but there is more to it than meets the eye.

soundwave, though he would never admit it, would grow fond of the scavengers - the lowkey, chill and maybe even fun life they had. a far cry from what he was forced to put up with in the high command. no more power struggle, no more persisting rumors of war. for a moment, aboard of the w.a.p. he could no longer be the head of the decepticon intel office. he could... just exist. not sure how he feels about it, yet. he needs more time to figure it out.

at the center of this is misfire, naturally. the one who talked to him first and the one who was sort of ushered into the role of the one to build a figurative scavengers-soundwave relationship bridge. naturally at first misfire and the others didnt take too kindly to soundwave. as a team they had rather complicated views on the high command as a whole. and soundwave was the very idea of the high command. as skeptical as the scavenger would be, the relationship was beneficial. soundwave became a token of survival for them. but soon enough though, that was to change.

i mean, misfire isnt stupid. he's introspective. he likes people. he likes knowing people. even soundwave was not beyond his curiosity. and, accidentaly or not, he got to know soundwave. the little things about him, that naturally started to seep out of his hardened shell now that he could, primus forbid, finally relax. soundwaves concealed passion for music, his innermost philosophical reflections, the way he cares about his casettes. the mask faltered.

soundwave is being taught how to be his own mech - who he is and who he has potential to be off the battlefield. he's been taught about the importance of trust as a part of loyalty and to overcome the egoism and dispassionateness which emerged as a part of desensitization that came about from everything he has experienced. misfire has been taught of bravery, the many ways to be strong and how important it is to fight for what he believes is right - to live for something beyond just the sake of living.

soundwave has also been converted into a gamer. he's become frighteningly skilled at whatever the cybertronian equivalent of mario kart is. but he lets misfire win :]

oh, and since then soundwave has brought along his casettes to one of his w.a.p. visitations. misfire is slowly but surely advancing to become "the cooler dad". soundwave is not sure how to feel about this.

#i am sane and normal #soundfire #missound #miswave #someone plz ping me when we come up with their ship name #.txt #transformers #maccadam #maccadams #transformers shipping #soundwave #misfire #the scavengers #tf idw

[loveemagicpeace]

Just My Deep Thoughts💙

✨For both pisces & scorpio it is described as observing how they behave when toxic - not meant as a bad thing.

❤️‍🔥Pisces are crazy toxic which means that they will become obsessed when they are together with you, even though it will not be visible from the sound. Their impulse can be very strong. Pisces often get lost in anger and impulsiveness, so they often do or say things without control and with a lot of craziness. They do insane things.

💘Scoprios are stable toxic. Scorpios are actually very jealous, passionate, controlling, angry, possessive, but they don't show it outwardly. They are toxic and impulsive but they are aware of it, in reality they always have their emotions under control even if it doesn't look like it.

🌇Sagittarius have two ways of looking at life. When you have a lot of Sagittarius in your chart, you can notice that your view is different from others and unique. For example: one way can be from a psychological perspective and another from a normal one.

🌠North node in synastry shows a lot where the energy is directed. For example: North node in the 8th house. Here, your energy will be focused on intensity, passion, sex, depth, attractiveness, investment, privacy. Even when you want to let the person go, you won't be able to because the energy will be very deep. It will be hard for you to leave and let go.

💚Aquarius sun with scorpio moon are cold-blooded. I often notice that they don't like to talk about their emotions or bring them to the fore. Somehow they prefer a more distant and not dependent relationship with people. And sometimes they can be very cruel.

🧚🏼‍♀️Pisces placements feels like illusion. Sometimes it feels like nothing is real, like you're just walking through life and watching it change. You see things and feel them like a kind of dream. Sometimes it seems to you that you are not really here where you are, but somewhere else completely. The loneliness you feel at times can hit you hard. It is as if you are standing among a crowd of people moving around you and you feel alone like never before. But the emptiness you feel is indescribable. Like the most empty feeling (like losing a favorite thing and then you stand there with nothing to lose).You're just walking through empty moments.

🌊Scorpio placements sometimes you feel dead inside, like you've lost everything you love. Indescribable darkness and deadness. This usually happens when they lose someone they really loved. Because for Scorpios, a breakup is like death. They feel everything very deeply, which is why many times their energy becomes dead, dark, cold. They feel as if someone has taken away their soul. Feeling like you're walking around and just staring into the void, feeling nothing inside and seeing nothing but darkness around you.

✨Capricorn rising sometimes feels like you're always on some kind of trial, a mission that never ends. Because you have to constantly learn new things, go through lessons that lead you to where you are now.

🩸Mars in Leo/Sag/Aries is fieryy. If any mars feels anger, which is very strong and fiery, these are definitely fiery signs. You will always notice anger in them immediately.

🧠Virgo in Mercury whenever they explain things they go into details and never get to the point straight away. With them, if they are going to explain to you how they lost something, they will always explain first - where they walked, what they saw, which building was built there..

🫀Passion in a relationship is shown by opposite & squares aspects. Because these aspects represent a challenge and something you have to invest more energy into, but it is permanent. Meanwhile, trine and sextile aspects show energy that is immediately caught between two people but does not last long because it does not change and always remains the same.

💄Moon in 7th house will often be happy with new clothes, make-up or anything related to shopping. Many times things will make you happier than people. Because here you often tend to need someone emotionally while people don't need you as much. And that can sometimes be tiring. You will always feel like you need people more than they need you.

-Rebekah🫀🎨🦋

#astrology #energy #zodiac signs #my notes #astrology observations #astrological houses #love #pisces #capricorn #scoprio #synastry #libra #sagittarius placements

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Do you think Gabriel and Tomoe trying to force their kids together when they never seemed to care about that before season 5 was too much drama? @tallwriter

Yes.

Here's a little writing tip: if you want to keep your audience emotionally invested, make the drama build and try to keep most of it tied to the plot. Miraculous is really, really bad at this. It has no idea how to build the drama up to a solid, satisfying, logical conclusion. Instead, it tries to keep people invested through extremely cheap, pointless drama that goes nowhere. I'll use season five to explain.

Season five's conflict is that Gabriel has all of the miraculous and the heroes want the miraculous back. Season five ends with that happening. But does anything in the season actually lead to that ending?

Here's a list of all (or at least most) of the multi-episode conflicts introduced and arguably resolved in season five:

Nathalie no longer blindly supporting Gabriel

Gabriel getting cataclysmed and slowly dying

Nathalie slowly dying

The reverse crush drama

Kagami having a crush on Adrien (and Marinette?)

Lila's lies and team up with Chloe

Gabriel and Tomoe wanting their kids together

Felix having the peacock miraculous

Marinette being unable to say that she loves Adrien

The senti plot

Adrinette getting together

The only thing on that list that kind of mattered to the final was Gabriel getting cataclysmed because it meant that he could die without it feeling like suicide since he was already dying. Everything else on that list could be cut and the ending would not meaningfully change because there is no story arc for season five. Stuff just happens.

This is what I mean by cheap, pointless drama. Season five doesn't care about setting up a good, powerful ending. It just cares about keeping you invested and asking "what's going to happen next?"

The is not how epic stories are told. This is how soap operas are told. The entire draw of that genre is melodrama. In other words, it's for people who enjoy drama just for the sake of drama. People who don't care if the characters are mostly shitty, awful people or if plots get dropped mid-season or resolved in wacky ways because the audience is not here to fall in love with the characters or to hear an epic story. They're here for the drama and that's about it.

To be clear, there's nothing wrong with soap operas. It's a massively popular genre for a reason. I'm sure that there are even standout examples that have fantastic plots, but that's simple not a requirement for something to be a good soap opera any more than a good romance requires the main couple to be healthy. The problem with Miraculous having a soap opera structure is that - as far as I can tell - Miraculous is not trying to be a soap opera. It's trying to be a serious narrative (which is why you have the writers claiming things like Marinette and Gabriel are supposed to represent individual creative spirit versus corporate greed), but it's failing and failing hard.

A show that was succeeding at telling a good, logical plot would have had multi-episode conflicts like:

Chat Noir and Ladybug figuring out how the miraculous powers are being given to people

Chat Noir and Ladybug trying to figure out if Tomoe knew that her rings got hacked/assuming the Tsurugi tech is behind everything and somehow infuriating the company, likely with Kagami's help

Chat Noir and Ladybug learning the truth of the butterfly and peacock and dealing with that/going to the mansion with purpose

Felix, Chat Noir, and Ladybug playing a season long game of cat and mouse

You know, stuff that would actually lead to the ending of the season instead of Felix randomly telling Ladybug what she needs to know right before the final without her actually doing anything to make that happen. (But don't forget that she's smart and clever guys. I promise you that she's smart and clever! The writers totally know how to write a smart and clever character!)

Another thing you may have noticed is that most of those suggested plot points build on each other. This is how good stories work. You should be constantly resolving subplots and, in the process of the resolution, you introduce new subplots. For example, they figure out that the rings are how the akumas are getting their powers, which leads to the investigation of Tsurugi tech. Two separate subplots that naturally link together to allow for a logical story flow while keeping things interesting.

This was a big problem with season four, which introduced the Ladynoir conflict that was just kind of there, looming over the story, but not doing anything for 20-something episodes. For all of season five's flaws, at the very least the writers kept things interesting. They just didn't keep it interesting in particularly talented way. It's all bullshit melodrama and, while I truly have nothing against soap operas, I'm not a fan of the genre.

All of the above is why I don't have any faith in the next season of miraculous. They writers clearly cannot handle conflicts that last longer than an episode because literally nothing they introduced set up the final. It actually weakened the final because season five spent a lot of time making Gabriel worse than he's ever been, which is not how you setup a dramatic, last-minute change of heart.

To end on a positive note, the one thing that I will give the writers some credit for is the reverse crush BS. Rumor has it that this season was originally supposed to have The Reveal and, if that had happened right after all of the crush stuff, then it would have been more satisfying than a reveal without the reverse crush.

While Adrien has always been a Marinette fan and him eventually developing a crush feels logical, Ladybug has been really anti Ladynoir for a while now, so having her backtrack that stance pre-reveal would have strengthened the reveal and the relationship that follows. It still will even though Ladybug's Chat Noir crush is now nothing more than a brief rebound that was quickly forgotten. That doesn't change the fact that it happened which means that we now know that she's okay with her and Chat Noir being in a romantic relationship no matter his identity when it previously came across like she was completely opposed to the idea until she learned that it was Adrien under the mask, which was something I always viewed as a terrible writing choice, so I'm glad they backtracked it instead of trying to solve it post-reveal.

#ml writing salt #ml writing critical #ml season 5 salt

[the-hype-on-tv]

alright i wanna share my take on this song already (SPOILERS FOR THE MV, GO WATCH IT BEFORE YOU READ)

the (alternative) symbolism behind the craving (imo)

the song is about jenna, but i think it could be about any kind of relationship, tyler just chose to represent it with jenna since she's the closest person to him (if we don't count josh)

the lyrics are pretty simple, but they share a tad of anxiety when it comes to a relationship, while in the mv him and josh (which I'll consider that both are the lyricself) are building something

you can see that both are very attentive to the details, and i noticed that tyler added two little bunnies to his piece, one is offering something to the other (him and jenna perhaps? like he's offering his love)

so when it's revealed that the thing is actually a bullet (fun fact, i did notice that when i first saw it but thought that it made no sense to be a bullet, i mean, who paints a bullet??) and heartbreakingly the gun men don't care about how much they spent their heart in it, THEY DON'T EVEN LOOK AT THE BOX THAT JOSH MADE GRRRGRRR

anyways, the first meaning of the song is quite obvious: that the lyricself is doing their best to care for their partner, to give love and attention, but isn't sure whether their intentions are seen

it reminds me of the romantic poets who would always describe their muses as greatly sweet and beautiful and unreachable, while they'll always be some simple shepherd who could never be enough

and i think that the chorus represents that idea of the possibility of an unrequited love (who's never thought of "i always text first, why don't they do it?" yk) and how when the lyricself finds themselves in any sort of dark situation, they expect their partner to reach out and care for them

but i think this song could be about the music industry as well. tyler and josh have the craving for doing something new, something genuine, and we as the clique have the craving for being a part of this something. but it seems that it doesn't matter how much they try to make those feelings into something unique, they'll always be seen for what they were meant to be: a bullet. or in this case, a band

they'll have to behave like celebrities sometimes, need to change their intentions to fit into an industry that prioritizes money and success (in the mv i think this is represented by the target thingy that they shoot and miss) over thoughts and feelings

it is, overall, a song about expectations, and the fear of not reaching them

#twenty one pilots #the craving #tyler joseph #josh dun #jenna joseph #tøp #twenty øne piløts #skeleton clique #twentyonepilots #the clique #clancy

[arcanarubinaito]

MC & M6 Dynamics

Each section contains a mini-playlist with six songs. It’s followed by a general analysis of what I aimed for each playlist to convey when listened to.

A song they’ll sing to/with each other. (In Lucio’s case, specifically him to Auric.)

A song that summarizes the start of their relationship, post-death.

The dynamic from Auric’s POV.

The dynamic from the character’s POV.

An instrumental song that fits their current dynamic.

Bonus song.

Muriel’s playlist will have nine songs, in an attempt to encompass both where their dynamic is currently and where I aim to take it. I’ll show the pattern below using the numbers from above to show what each song is meant to represent.

(Present, first four songs)—2,3,4,5

(Future, last five songs)—1,3,4,5,6

Brothers.

It’s a term that both use without even needing to think about it. Family, siblings, so incredibly close that sometimes it takes Asra a moment to remember they weren’t always in each other’s lives.

Long before they lost half their heart, it already felt like it was missing. The experience forced a lot of their trauma and unresolved issues back into the forefront. They began retreating frequently once Auric was able to take care of himself, taking lengthy trips to get away from it all before it consumed them entirely.

Even without his memories, Auric still loved him. He looked up to him, depended on him. Frequently, Auric wondered if that was why Asra kept leaving—if Auric loved him too much and scared him away.

He stayed. Even when it was painful, sleeping all alone in the loft they shared. Auric stayed right where Asra left him, waiting for them to come back.

Can one still love when they feel so angry? Auric couldn’t figure it out. As time went on, the resentment would build up and all Auric would feel was guilt for it.

Love and care, soured by resentment and loneliness. Auric is finally pulling away, keeping things from Asra that he never did before. Asra wants to fix it, and they’re hoping to god it isn’t too late to do something.

Best friends; confidantes, even.

They knew each other before Auric died. They met at the wedding, and quickly figured out they had a bit in common. While they weren’t particularly close—they led very different lives and rarely had the chance to interact—they were still fond of one another.

When they met again, Nadia had been expected someone brighter and happier. That was who she met in her dreams after all. Instead, she was faced with an anxious, slightly irritable apprentice. And it felt horribly, horribly wrong.

She took extreme amounts of care to make sure Auric was comfortable at the palace. One of the smaller guest rooms, (mostly) practical outfits made from comfortable fabrics, she even incorporated foods into the menu that Portia recommended the average citizen of Vesuvia would enjoy.

Nadia found a unique confidante in Auric. It wasn't long before she confessed her memory loss, and now the two know they have something they share.

In many ways, they leaned on one another. For two people that felt lonely throughout the lives they remembered, there was nothing better than to encounter someone who knew how they felt.

Nadia wants to foster more trust between them. If ever Auric should need anything, Nadia will be right there for him to assist in whatever ways she can.

What else can they call themselves but family? Their relationship fluctuates, depending on their situation.

Meeting Julian for the first time was an… experience. But glimpses past Julian’s façade quickly revealed that he was desperate, not dangerous. Didn’t save him from getting smacked with a broom though.

Honestly the song dedicated to the start of their relationship is more or less just the vibes Julian gave off to Auric at first. Yes, it’s a Will Wood song. You can’t make a playlist without one, I don’t make the rules I just follow ‘em.

It would be a lie to say Julian didn’t have a healthy fear of Auric at first. That wasn’t what Auric intended, but he got a little intense and Julian didn’t know Auric well enough to realize that’s not how he is normally.

There’s a lot of running into each other because there’s a lot of following each other around. Auric tracked Julian down for the purposes of his investigation; Julian started following Auric around to make sure he didn’t run into trouble.

One thing they both could relate to is a longing for adventure and exploring. On top of that, the feeling that they had to stay behind for one reason or another, and in Julian’s case, the guilt that came from finally leaving and pursuing his interests.

These two keep each other in check. Both are impulsive and self-sacrificing; which means they’re perfect to keep each other from diving headfirst into something without thinking, or otherwise doing things they might regret. (Cough, cough, Julian nearly giving himself up to the guards so Auric could escape despite them both being in a very secure hiding place.)

Auric is yet another person Julian hopes can forgive him, for his past and for what he’s planning to do.

Best friends in that do everything together, giggling school girls talking about their crushes, going to the ends of the earth for each other kind of way.

They clicked faster than Auric did with Asra. Like the platonic version of falling in love at first sight. Auric found it incredibly easy to talk to Portia, and vice-versa.

See the thing is, they both love with their entire beings, absorb the stress of everyone and everything around them, and deal with it through borderline overworking themselves. It cancels out with each other. There’s no feeling like they have to prove themselves, and they can feel relaxed.

Auric hadn’t smiled like that in months. His cheeks hurt, his feet ached, but it was worth it to dance and let go of his stress for a couple hours with Portia.

It really just felt natural to talk to her. She was warm, sweet, and caring. Auric felt the most like himself, the most relaxed he had been in ages. That’s not to say he isn’t comfortable around the other M6, but they all carry stress or stressful situations with them that make it hard for him to really let go and unwind.

Boundless energy and curiosity. When Portia and Auric had the time, it was pursuing books in the library or exploring the secret passages. If their schedules didn’t line up, sometimes they’d use their time off to help each other out with whatever they were working on.

There is trust, but also secrets. And that is perfectly fine; they’ll tell each other in good time.

Once upon a time you could describe their relationship as friendly rivals. As a child, Auric often engaged in prank wars with the new Count.

Now they’ve become mortal enemies, their laughter and antics lost in the past. A small part of Lucio missed it, which spurred his actions a little; but whatever kindness and affection he might’ve had was swallowed up in anger and resentment during those three years.

Death was not kind. Or in Lucio’s case, the lack thereof. Three years allowed his anger and desperation to fester and rot, lashing out at anything that wandered into his abandoned wing.

Originally there was a sort of cat and mouse dynamic. It started when Auric first stepped foot into Lucio’s wing; taunting, chasing, even outright hurting Auric in his limited capacity. Auric didn’t remember him, which made it all the more frustrating for Lucio. Although slowly it became a point of interest.

Once he had his own body, his attention shifted away from Auric for a while. It returned swiftly once he completed his deals and he began to realize the little apprentice actually posed a threat. It’s at this point as well that Auric’s fear of Lucio transformed to full-fledged hatred. (Morga’s death was the catalyst.)

It didn’t help that The Devil and The Fool had their own issues going on, and that was beginning to influence things.

Blood will be shed because of their mutual hatred. But while Auric tries to keep it contained between them, Lucio frankly doesn’t give a fuck who gets caught in the crossfire.

They may have begun as strangers but they end up as partners.

Of course, the road to that point is long and slow when one can’t remember the other, and the other doesn’t like the first one.

Muriel barely knew Auric before he died. His opinion only really started forming after Auric’s resurrection; ‘The dead should stay dead.’ is what he told Asra. And he stood by it; he saw firsthand what trying to resurrect Auric did to them. And he saw the aftermath of it too, and how it changed his best friend.

The first time he properly met Auric post-resurrection, it was only because Asra needed someone to keep an eye on him the first time Asra took one of his trips. There wasn’t anything Auric did wrong in particular, but Muriel left with a sour taste in his mouth anyways.

Auric was afraid of him at first. The first several visits were like that; reactions of fear that never quite ebbed away. Muriel could deal with that, he was used to it. What really started to disturb him was when Auric began to slowly become more comfortable around him, despite the curse.

It’s not fear but it slowly developed into wariness. Muriel long discovered that his fear was not absent entirely; it remained attributed to whoever remembered him. And while Auric didn’t remember him entirely, something still did—something small, just under the surface. So whatever fear and anxiety Muriel was developing about the situation mimicked that.

Though to someone who lived a few years now with very limited fears, that was more than enough to trigger some avoidance and general distrust. Especially because he couldn’t control this; he had no say in whether or not Auric remembered him. And in that tiny, under-the-surface way, that was terrifying.

After this, he watched Auric only from a distance and very, very rarely would he interact with him. Warning him about the palace the morning Auric set out to see Nadia was the first time he had spoken to Auric in a good year.

… which was then subsequently followed by multiple interactions over the span of a week, and Auric’s slight recognition began to turn into vague familiarity.

To be honest, Auric was starting to freak out. He was insanely attuned to his own memory out of paranoia that he would lose it all over again; so it was very easy for him to notice all the missing ones. And it really didn’t help that they were cropping up more frequently.

Thankfully Asra returned and Muriel wasn’t needed anymore. And by the looks of things, Asra wasn’t going to leave for a while yet; good. Muriel wanted to put as much distance between himself, and Auric, and these weird feelings of slight fondness and concern as possible.

Asra asked him to stick around longer anyways. Auric was accepting only so much help from them, and they didn’t trust Julian to keep Auric safe and out of trouble either. Great, now he was stuck watching TWO people he didn’t like.

Muriel had to wonder just how much fortune hated him, for Auric to stumble across him that fateful evening in the forest. Sure, he was bleeding out from a gaping wound in his side and sure Auric unthinkingly healed him up and spent his magic reserves…

… and then they were traveling together…

… and getting to know each other…

… fuck.

Now he understood exactly what ‘butterflies’ meant. Now he knew a different kind of fear. Now he knew a different intensity to the fears he used to have.

His knee jerk instinct is to run away from it all when it gets too intense. But Auric didn’t really let him… which was surprising. And nice. Everything Auric did was surprising, mostly in good ways.

Whatever happens, they’re prepared to weather the storm together.

#the arcana #the arcana game #arcanarubinaito #vesuvia weekly #mc/li dynamics #auric the apprentice #auric x muriel #the arcana asra #asra alnazar #asra the magician #the arcana nadia #nadia satrinava #countess nadia #the arcana julian #julian devorak #ilya devorak #the arcana muriel #muriel of the kokhuri #muriel the hermit #the arcana Portia #portia the arcana #pasha devorak #the arcana lucio #lucio morgasson #count Lucio #Spotify

[activatebutterflyshield]

More of me running my mouth about music as inspiration except this time its just Dear Wormwood

Prelude. Prelude. PRELUDE. This is probably just a music nerd thing but its so perfect. Despite my horrible understanding of music theory, a prelude is usually the first piece of music that is meant to represent the succeeding and usually longer movements in a single work, but they could also stand alone. The Prelude to Dear Wormwood works as both. It starts out quiet before building up with just absolutely amazing wordless vocals and its just so great folks. Its a summary of the whole album in a minute and nine seconds its amazing folks

Okay Bitter Water. The first time I heard this one I thought oh, its a metaphor for alcoholism. Yes, it can be a metaphor for alcoholism, but it is also so much more. In the broader context of Dear Wormwood its an acknowledgement of how bad a relationship is and that the singer, the victim, feels like they can never escape it, but it can be so much more folks. It can be a about a love lost, with the one who lost the love pining and wasting away without their soulmate. Said soulmate could be a part of the griever themself. It can be so much. Its also a banger but thats a given for the whole album. “terrible fire of old regret is honey on my tongue” is also eternally amazing this whole thing is poetry mates

There Beneath. Calm and flowy and existential kind of but I make a lot of things existential and where were we? But also the line “I saw the morning lead a cavalcade” is bloody amazing. Its such a great and poetic way to describe the breaking dawn, the rising sun, the beginning of a new day and so many other things mates its amazing. Like a veteran adventurer recalling the times when their friends got them out of hard scrapes or something idk

In the Blue Hours of the Morning. It’s a nice waypoint, a chance to catch your breath before the next song which I will go off about but this bit is really just like its title. The time before the cavalcade, when theres still enough light to see by yet its so calm and still and not quite awake yet

Exeunt, which is. It is. Well, exactly what it says on the tin, an exeunt, which is a stage direction for when an actor goes off stage, but its also the most poetry ever. Everyone loves “Fluttering your lashes like ashes and ember” and rightfully so but everything in that song is so bloody strong. “Crocodile eyes I have seen how you hunger”???? “No I cannot trust what you say when youre grieving”????? Like its such a powerful song with all the musicians going ham on the everything and then the lyrics and then the context? Its great its just great

Caesar. A calm follow-up to the headbanger that is Exeunt, but its no less amazing. Im just drowning in symbolism for this one mates. Not only is the morning back and breaking over a palisade but also historical references!?! The backlogs of random anecdotes and stories are tickled awake by the “Look to the sky where the sign will be shown” bit so much like it aint even funny. Its a reference to Constantine the Great, who saw the symbol of the Chi Rho and went on to become roman emperor with it painted on his shields and its so much potential in just three stanzas

This Will End. Fellows this one just hurts. Its so bloody sad and yet such a strangely jaunty tune like the singer has just accepted their sad life and Im always like no! It can get better! You just gotta try a bit! Mates! Im bleeding out!

Pale White Horse. Ohhhhhhhhhh I can get so deep about Pale White Horse but so much of it is about WWI and the Spanish Flu Epidemic and other stuff I do not care to dredge from the depths of my historical brain fluids but its so great as a thing about war and trauma and abuse and so much other stuff just like recognizing someone doing something terrible and that can be either interpreted as oh thats conformation that they were always terrible or oh goodness thats not possible why no why are you like this you are not like this right and there’s no in between. And both hurt!

Where Is Your Rider. Enough metaphors to fill a graveyard (hey Crane Wives fans. Hey. Did you get it? Eh? Idk I thought it was funny) and then some but also oooooh the lines just go so hard sometimes. “But these bones never rested while living / So how can they stand to languish in repose”???????? Like mate youre dead but youre still going to push on and keep on fighting mates it hurts it hurts too much there are too many characters and situations and just stray thoughts I can peg to these two lines alone help

Soldier, Poet, King. Need I say more? Yes, I need to say more. Everyone above and below knows how bloody legendary this song is but take this as a sign to listen to it again. Its just that good. Someone once tired and broken who has found support and is coming back to finish the job they couldnt finish on their own is just oooooooooooooogh mates. Also funny ha ha DND party. Two sides of the same polyhedral dice. Probably a d100 with all the nonsense I can drag out of it at this point.

Dear Wormwood. The album namer. UGH I cannot get enough of this one. Just some of the lines in this one mates. “And in my hour of weakness / You were there to see me fail”???????? “I know who I am now / I know who I wanna be / I wanna be more than / That devil inside of me”??????????????????? Its just so perfect and so amazing and it gives you a warn hug and it punches you in the gut and it helps you up and gives you hot tea and the works mates its just so great

Danse Macabre. One last instrumental. A Danse Macabre was usually a piece of art with people dancing next to skeletons, representing the inevitability of death and the equality in the grave and so many other sad and mopey things but also its just such a fun jig. It really does feel like a bunch of spooky scary skeletons jamming on their graves. And that’s a one liner I never thought Id need to write.

Thus Always to Tyrants. Bloody hell this is the perfect ending song. The singer immediately starting off with “Let me die, let me drown, leave my bones in the ground”, proclaiming themselves free of the worries and pains they started the album with, singing as the blazing sun rises that yes, they are, if not happy now, then at least better now, and that anyone who threatens that will face the new and improved them is just ooooooogh. Mates. If theres one song you need to listen to if you somehow made it to the end of this thingie without also being obsessed with the Oh Hellos, its Thus Always to Tyrants. But please listen to the whole of Dear Wormwood first. It makes the impact so much better.

#me running my mouth #the oh hellos #dear wormwood #i just needed to get out. some. not all. of my thoughts about this bloody legendary album #im gonna do more #probably #theres so much i can say about. uh. most of the songs i listen to regularly #if theres gonna be another one then itll probably be through the deep dark valley #or maybe that one about coyote stories ive already started but that thing is more specific and also sad to read since its about sad stuff #like climate change and capitalism and such #but it will be finished eventually

[not-poignant]

Pia plz tell me they repair the teacup

Sadly, they are not going to repair the teacup.

I actually didn't even consider it a possibility for a long time when I knew this was going to happen (and I've known since the teacup was shown very early on, like since that first moment I knew it was destined to be broken).

The teacup is a symbol of Gary's desperate attempts to preserve his past, and convince himself that somehow, James won't be dead one day. It's a way to maintain links to a past he wants to live in, and it represents a need to fill the present with the past in a way that doesn't really allow him to move on.

The teacup being forcibly broken is a reflection on a lot of things, but mostly it's also Efnisien's refusal to be a ghost in a house because of a person who has been dead for nearly a decade. Efnisien actively resents James - who wouldn't, tbh, in those circumstances - not because of Gary's grief, he's very sensitive to that, but because Gary is so emotionally walled off and has chosen to stop living his life, which directly results in these moments of perceived neglect (I really wish they'd both talked about this though) and rupture.

I don't want...that repaired. And it is meant to hurt and feel awful, we ideally get a sense of the gravity of it, because we know just how much of himself Gary has invested in these few material objects in the house. But Gary could invest that energy into real people, and real relationships, and himself.

Efnisien shattered something in Gary, and the combination of the act of domestic violence that Gary just experienced (something that peak alphas are almost never a victim of, so he's not equipped to be super sane about it), the destruction of a precious object, the fact that most of us known that porcelain in particular is vulnerable and valuable in these circumstances, and that it's always seemed out of place in that house, is like... hmmm it's a necessary shattering.

The teacup isn't forgotten, and it's going to keep coming up again for the both of them, because the symbol of what it represents to Efnisien, and what it represents to Gary, is relevant, and that moment is crystallised in both of their minds.

If they can get past this, especially if Gary can, they might have a much stronger ability to mend some of the cracks in the foundation of what they've been building.

Anyway I gotta go cuz Mum's making crepes with lemon and sugar for dinner lol

#asks and answers #efnisien ap wledig #dr gary konowalous #underline the black #i want to do all the tags but i literally gotta pee and then runnnnn #dslakfjasdljfdsa #thanks for this ask though!

[zarvasace]

Vidow Animatic Thoughts (pt 1)

I shall detail thought process etc. let’s go. It’s long. Under cut. Hit tumblr max image upload so this is three parts.

part 1 // part 2 // part 3

Animatic can be found here

Program: procreate dreams (it’s clunky but it works). This whole video took me something like 8 hours? Over the course of uhhh three days? Pretty quick.

Introduction

This is my first ever animatic, so when I began, I wanted to keep it simple. I chose my favorite pencil brush and like three colors (I later added one for emphasis). I had a couple specific scenes in mind, and I knew how I wanted the progression to go, but I winged most of it, shot by shot. The song does a good job of building up with a sort of three-act structure, so.

I referenced the castle from Breath of the Wild, but I didn’t stress too much about the details. The plan was to make it sketchy and quick. The beginning is mostly just things moving across the screen. I think that works, though, setting up the angsty mood and giving me room to expand later on. The first shot with Vio’s face is sort of meant to be a fake-out: you’re looking at him, but no he’s looking at a mirror, which is obvious when it cracks. Not sure if that came across but the cracks are very cool anyway.

This is also the first time you see white, which sort of represents change/time through the whole thing.

And then we see the first of Shadow, and he has his own color: black. He's a real drawing here (rather than black smoke or something) mostly to establish that black=Shadow.

Not much to say about the next bit, with the door and stuff dropping, I just wanted to make it clear that we’re in Vio’s bedroom at the end of a day.

And then he’s being dramatic about getting in bed. Mostly just to show that he’s tired and Haunted. Also I think it does work in establishing that this isn’t really Shadow’s doing. Whether or not he’s actually there doesn’t matter, because it’s Vio who thinks he does, and we’re seeing this from Vio’s perspective. He’s the one who can’t let Shadow go, so whether Shadow is actually haunting him like a ghost doesn’t matter.

Verse 1

SO first off, Vio is sad and has bad dreams. Well, good dreams. They're good, but they make him sad. Shadow shows up in black again, definitely part of the dream (further blurring the line between reality and delusion). Vio's in white in his dream, which doesn't happen anywhere else. If white represents change, then this is Past Vio, or the Vio That Vio Wishes He Was But Isn't. It's definitely memories of some kind, though, because white Vio's hair is short, where normal Vio has a long braid throughout.

We only see Shadow as more than an influence (by that I mean a shadow, a flash, a feeling) a few times, and this is the first. His presence is stronger in dreams and weaker in the reality that Vio lives in.

But the sun comes up and Vio is actually alone. White is the sun/light a lot here, meaning that time is passing. Vio's still brooding. (I really like that little "in the heat of the day" shot, the glint is in Vio's lower eyes which may hint at tears, but it's definitely not obvious yet.) I don't particularly LOVE that drawing of Vio braiding his hair, but it gets the point across. He can't stop thinking about Shadow, even as he goes about his day.

Chorus 1

This part hammers that in: Vio CAN'T stop thinking about Shadow and wallowing in his memories, it's driving him to distraction and failure. He's not moving on. It's right there in the lyrics: "I can never let you go." There's a reference to evil root beer as he's eating, distracted from Red (hi Red!) right beside him. He feels guilty, and can't shoot arrows without imagining himself hurting Shadow more. He still half-expects Shadow to be there for his discoveries. He feels watched, like Shadow should be there all the time, even when he isn't doing anything. He's brooding. Broody boy.

Interlude

Broody boy continues. Important: when he's walking to his room/the library/wherever books are, he's going right to left. I studied a couple videos of walk cycles to get those feet right, and they still aren't right, but I'm still impressed with myself! Also, apparently I now have a mental library of Gothic Windows. I thought that was a fun shot. Vio sure sighs a lot.

Verse 2

This verse is ramping things up and preparing for the turn.

"Nothing ever changes, so I've learned." I feel like this is quite a Vio statement to make. I don't think it's perfectly applicable—in this post-canon-adjacent AU, clearly the four of them are still separate people, which would be quite a change, but for Vio? I think it means that he's maybe a little upset that nobody else is grieving to the point of distraction. People are going about their lives, but every single step Vio takes is shadowed. (ba dum tish.)

The flower was a spur-of-the-moment decision, since I wanted something in the spot where the book was and didn't really want to just draw vague smoke again. But it ended up being thematic and calling back to a later moment in the video. And maybe it hints that Shadow might be showing his approval that Vio is at least trying to do what he loves (that is, reading books.)

And Vio's back in his room, surrounded by books. He's tried so hard to forget. He doesn't look particularly interested in what he's reading, and we know why. I tried to frame that "to forget" shot in a way that looks like he might be drowning in his own ambition, like he has all these books and he's just desperate that one of them will distract him or be a replacement for Shadow's influence in his life, which is quickly growing to dangerous levels...

Did Vio actually see Shadow here? Well, once again, it doesn't matter, because Vio thinks he did, thinks so hard that he throws himself to the ground. It doesn't injure him, but it doesn't take a fortune-teller to imagine that he might do something truly reckless if this keeps going. And Vio sees that, I think, here. He realizes that what he sees might not be real. He's in the "dark night of the soul" here, and actually cries, which is a big deal for his character. It's just two tears—white, if you'll notice—but it represents his hitting rock-bottom.

"And you've never loved me once" is maybe not the right line for this, I considered changing it to "you only loved me once" but I eventually decided to keep the line as it is in the song so there's minimal dissonance for the viewer. The song's story isn't quite the same as the one I'm pulling out here, but this line is the turning point in the song's story and in mine.

(continued in part 2!)

#fs #vidow #vidow animatic

[zeravmeta]

every so often i come across videos talking about pokemon and discussing how mainline pokemon games always have lackluster plots and like. here’s the thing on one hand pokemon mainline game plots always do tend to be super simple compared to other series and even other spinoffs within the same franchise (like pmd). but on the other hand i feel like its incredibly dismissive of what does exist (and obviously I’m the fool for watching youtube videos on subjects i definitely know more about than them) and also feels like they miss the point on what kind of stories these games want to tell.

but then I really sat down and thought about it. what DOES make a good pokemon plot for the mainline games? because they are formulaic, you always repeat the same process and hit the same plot beats throughout, much of what changes between games is just the creatures and the aesthetic along with whatever new gimmick they might introduce, but overall you can play one pokemon game and you’ve basically played them all so what changes? what really separates pokemon games from each other? what makes people love the world of pokemon so much aside from the creatures?

and then it hit me. pokemon mainline games always have simplistic plot, but a phenomenal narrative. The plot is the story that’s trying to be told, but the narrative is the presentation, the thematic core within a story. The thing about pokemon is that the plot is supplemental to the narrative, rather than the narrative being an aspect of the plot like in most stories.

True, in every mainline game you basically do the same cycle of getting your starter following the map beating the gyms stopping the evil team leader and becoming the champion. But the thing about pokemon is that the actual plot is secondary to the intended purpose of having you actually explore the world. You’re not MEANT to care about the plot details, but rather the plot is flavoring to the characters and world building.

Think of the Gen5 games for a second. People often consider these the best written pokemon games (and for good reason) but what I always notice is that people never bring up the central plot as a reason for that. Rather, the big draw of the writing is the character writing and lore: the circumstances surrounding N, the thematics of what Team Plasma represents, the Memory Link side stories. All of these you can entirely ignore in any given playthrough of a bw/2 game (you can even 100% the games without touching any of these!), yet they’re the things that stick out the most to players for years after the fact.

The same is true of every pokemon game, you don’t care about the central plot, but rather the world and the characters where the majority of the writing IS focused on: Silver’s struggle with his father, Maxie and Archie as well-intentioned villains, Cyrus as a character who wants to save the world from itself, you can ask any pokemon fan to talk about their favorite characters and even though the plots of the games are incredibly simple, they can tell you tons of things about the characters.

That’s something of a trend I feel exists in Nintendo’s biggest games: there is no plot, but you care about the world regardless. Mario games don’t have a plot but we enjoy playing through the worlds. Legend of Zelda recycles its plot basically every game but you remember the interesting dungeons, the funny and weird npcs, the actual experience of discovering the world and its lore. Kirby has no plot whatsoever but uses its aesthetic and presentation to build a world and a lore out of it, putting the focus of exploring the world to the player by giving you a mechanic that lets you skip the game entirely. Pokemon does largely the same thing with its games, but since it’s an rpg there has to be SOME writing to it, and they always attribute that to the characters. Quite literally, its about the journey, not the destination. This is particularly why I kind of love the Gen7 games, because while I do absolutely agree that the game drowned you in cutscenes, the most memorable things about it to me were the random little events you could find around the region that added so much personality, not to mention that this time the plot was driven specifically BECAUSE of the characters narrative (Lillie) rather than having it as a consequence of there needing to be a plot. This is also what I feel Gen6 failed with, because as much as I loved Kalos as a child, they focused far too hard in trying to Have A Plot that they ignored the narrative entirely: you don’t really care about Lysandre because hes never really shown to make any kind of sense, and Kalos as a region was ultimately empty. The one interesting character in XY (AZ) is tied directly to the lore they do introduce, which is his main draw as a whole, but outside of that there’s very little to it all.

This is also why i feel that pokemon spinoff games have such banger iconic stories to them as a result? because the mainline games have a very simple plot but have incredible lore, world building and narrative to them, so when a spinoff actually takes the time to add a properly written story to them its always incredibly complementary as a result and basically half of the work in writing a story is already done, so they can focus on the characters entirely. Anyone whose ever played a mystery dungeon or ranger or any of the other story based spinoff games can tell you that their stories are always incredible.

If they ever do want to make a pokemon game with a legitimate plot to it, I don’t even think they’d have to revamp the formula and gameplay loop that all games have you do, but rather add some extra importance to it. They somewhat tried to do this with HMs I feel, where you can’t progress in the world unless you beat the gyms, but instead of having the gym challenge just be something that the player is pushed into, actually making it a core defining aspect of whatever hypothetical story the writers would want to tell. They could even toss the gym challenge out entirely and try something new, but overall in order to have a good plot, they’d need to make the progression within the game have some type of importance aside from letting you advance in the world.

#pokemon #zerav meta

[attourney-at-lycan]

You have mentioned before your idea that the Divine Warriors may have destroyed or taken the place of the previous "gods" before them, which is an interesting idea because it sounds a lot like what happens in Theogony, a.k.a. the Greek creation myth (the channel Overly Sarcastic Productions has a nice short video on the subject). 

Basically, the myth is a never-ending cycle of powerful entities being usurped by their children due to the previous generations' transgressions (the titan Kronos overthrew his primordial father Ouranos for locking his more "monstrous" children away, then Zues, with the eventual help of the other Greek gods, would go on to overthrow Kronos himself due to the mistreatment of his own children in an attempt to keep himself in power after learning one of his children would also overthrow him, Zeus gets almost the exact same prophecy that Kronos got and tries to prevent it by absorbing his first wife so she doesn’t bear that supposed son, etc.)

The Greeks would also tend to base their pantheon around concepts they deemed important during that time period, and although the Divine Warriors were given admittedly vague titles, it's safe to say that they are supposed to represent... something. And, to be honest, I'm fine with these titles (aside from the fact that they were apparently lifted from Final Fantasy, like so much of Jess' world building); the only real issue is that the titles never stop being vague. For example, if Shad is given the title "Destroyer," this would be fine if we were told more clearly what it's supposed to mean because "Destroyer" could mean and represent so many things. He’s clearly represented by some kind of underworld? (Seriously, though, what even is the Nether? It can’t be an afterlife or purgatory of any kind because Irene created the dimension), and his shadow knights can be very destructive, but he was given the title of destroyer before all of that. An idea could be that he was supposed to be a kind of war god. He came from the era of monarchs, so it could make sense that kingdoms would find it important to gain the favor of someone strong enough to sway one of these violent conflicts in their favor. Maybe that is one of the reasons he and Irene fell apart. Irene is a natural healer; it would only make sense that despite her feelings, she would grow to detest a being whose existence brings about conflict.

Also, from a narrative and worldbuilding standpoint, viewing the Divine Warriors as these temperamental beings that represent the worst and best of humanity, such as with the Greek pantheon, would make a lot more sense than viewing them as perfect beings that we should strive to imitate, as Christianity does with the Holy Trinity. Because we are shown throughout MC: Diaries and most of the Aphmau cinematic universe that the Warriors (particularly Irene) were very flawed individuals who would act on their own personal desires even if it meant endangering innocent parties. The cruel actions of the Divine Warriors can be obvious, like Irene murdering her daughter in order to create her relic, or in a more subtle way, like with how they left the world. The whole "Lord system," as you have pointed out before yourself, is a very flawed form of government and doesn’t in any way stop the rise of a monarchy (as shown in the series with O'khasis).

dude… i just woke up.

anyway i took a minute to read all of this and how far did u go to find out all my lore ideas/complaints???

but the idea of theogony placed in the setting of mcd is such a fucking smart idea because it’s almost as if you’re just seeing it happen in real time while the story is going on. you can just see history basically repeat itself with the possibility of aphmau, garroth, laurance, katelyn etc etc being ones next up to claim the role of being the next pantheon (??? i took intro to religion but we didnt touch up on polytheism much wkfsbawh)

even if they dont become gods, with the way that they save the world multiple times and how famous they are, you’d think they’d be seen as some sort of godly beings or next gen divine warriors by people who just watched on the sidelines

for me, i feel like the names of the titles make sense mostly because there are only a handful of them- keep them vague for a way to generalize their reach on concepts? however what DOES bother me is that why is there no origin story for the world that they live in. what is the reason the people of mcd live for? do theh believe in an afterlife? do they have a reason why the sun exists or why they exist? where they come from? because irene and the divine warriors cannot be the reason they exist if they had people living before they popped up-

ALSO YES I LOVE THE CONCEPT OF FLAWED GODLY BEINGS!!!!! it makes sense especially for them because they’re not even gods technically, yes they were the most powerful being at the time, but that’s because they had the relics, even irene used to be a human before she got her relic, or so wiki says. (which SUCKS BC WHERE DO THE RELICS COME FROM???) therefore they’re just as flawed as humans, have just as much desire as humans but much more dangerous because they can do so much damage, exhibit a, shad’s heartbreak for irene

#once again #i hope. this made sense. #aphmau #minecraft diaries #mcd rewrite #aphblr #aphmau minecraft diaries

[tinyfairart]

Hey this is your secret skeleton for the DCAH2023 event! I have a couple questions for your gift:

1) Do you have a preference between your ghosty boys or them before they died for your gift?

2) Do you have a post that explains/summarizes more about your AU? If not, do you have any important information I might need to know to draw them accurately?

Hello! To answer your questions

I like the ghost versions of them better but you can do either or.

As far as information to draw them, the center in their chest has wires sticking out in which the length is meant to represent their anger and the side of their face that's missing is also supposed to be bunched up wires. If you feel that's too much work you can omit that though. (I usually do because I'm lazy.) Also, if you would like I can get a Y/N ref up in a few days if you would like to incorporate them in some way.

Also sun carries a lighter. Moon had a matching one but threw it away after a fight shortly after waking up as ghosts.(The yellow one is suns.)

I have a lot of writings on discord I'll post underneath, its a lot and I apologize for that but its basically everything I've laid out so far

The world is a cyberpunk style dystopia but demons and other supernatural creatures exist. They conjoin together on the west end of town known as the Requiem District. Named by the business men and politicians that lament the loss of the good land.

Outside of the district there is an idea of a perfect order, represented by a yellow triangle patch usually placed on clothing. This idea has formed a monster hunter organization that is paid for by taxes and large donations from wealthy members of society. In classic cyberpunk fashion there is a large class disparity. Because of this Y/N carries an old revolver an axe and the reason why their coat is so torn.

Ghosts are souls that choose to live on usually to complete something they consider important or to prevent others from reaching the same fate. Ghosts can be distinguished by their tear drop that they have on one side of their face.

Sun and Moon are known as the Celestial Twins and are both protectors of their home just in different ways. Sun seeks to protect Humans, which he views as belonging. He cares for those who have nowhere else to turn and leads innocents trapped in the walls back to safety. He carries a lighter as guidance, an opposite to Moon's unnatural neon flames. Moon protects the monsters. He uses his flame to lead any hunters deeper into the city, making them believe that civilization is just ahead before he extinguishes it. He traps those looking to do harm and is known and feared by those looking to take back the broken city.

Y/N is this world is a Hunter, but one forced to turn to the forgotten part of the city after being injured by a monster. Both Sun and Moon were killed by a hunter they let stay one night and don't have great views of them.

The forgotten city itself is unnatural with its building only ever growing higher and its alleys ever tighter. The very city creaks to keep those within trapped and those outside of it away. Neon signs flicker to convey messages and plants never able to grow above the skyline no matter how long it has been.

Sun and Moon's relationship is quite strained after their mutual deaths. Sun convinced his brother to let the human stay before they showed their true intentions, Because of that Moon hates himself for failing that night and letting his brother get hurt. He stays away from him out of anger and fear. He is determined to get retribution for the two of them.

Y/N to only make things more complicated as Sun protects humans. And here's one in front of him. They're a hunter though but they did not come seeking harm. The wariness that both the twins feel compounded with the growing intrusion on their home, their city.

Despite sun being a ghost, he chooses not to float and instead walk. His reliance on a lighter for light helps keep him connected to the idea of the human side of this world. He's slow, gentle, and keeps his more inhuman side hidden. Moon is comparison doesn't bother and even tries to amplify his inhuman nature. With floating around and sharp robotic movements and sudden jolts forward. Obviously also his fire which he uses to mimic the unnatural neon lights of the city.

Ghosts are incorporeal but could take on a physical form. However it takes a lot of energy and many choose not too unless they feel absolutely necessary. They can still interact with objects however.

Moon haunts people in their dreams and makes them desperate. he can still interact with objects just not people so he burns and steal supplies. He eventually convinces them to kill themselves since he can't touch them and isn't going to let them leave and bring reinforcements. Y/N is caught up in the middle of this as Sun is trying to help and keep them safe while moon torments them and makes things worse there by also forcing the two twins to interact

Both of the celestial twins are a species of monster known as automatons. Automatons represent an aspect of their environments or some type of technology. This can be radios, speakers, air sirens, basically anything electronical based. Sun and Moon are electric wires. It's why light plays such a big role in their story

The entire world is currently desperate for resources so punk fashion that used to be a subculture now has entered the main stream. I like to imagine moon made not only their clothes but repaired other monsters clothing as well. He's decorated sun's poor torn up sweater multiple times with left over fabric. Cute star and cloud shapes made with the utmost love. Poor sun misses that sweater desperately after his death, unable to find it again.

If you have any other questions feel free to send them. I'd love to help where I can.

oh also I have the blog @everlastingorbit which I opened last week that has a few asks that may help.

#I'm sorry its so messy #Its still super early in development so everything is still a bit chaotic

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

I loved Good Omens, but how people see it as amazing queer representation is so frustrating. I see why people like the codinf and could see themself in the text, but the fact they treat it like the end all be all of representation and put it on the same level as explicit rep is frustrating. It's frustrating because Neil gets to have his cake and eat it, too. He got something half his audience will never realize is queer (i know this because half the people i watched it with didnt realize), but he gets the praise for being a queer icon and great representation or whatever. I'm fine if he didn't want to make it explicitly queer, especially because it's a big change that and he didn't want to change too much from the source material since his co-author passed. But he did make changes and added the queer subtext that was less present in the book. And in the show, there's this je ne sais quoi to it that is missing, something in the vibes that is just missing. Something a queer author would've been able to get. The closest I can get to describing it is like by the end, here's still a gap of unresolved feelings between the lines. Or like, touch isn't that big of a deal between them. I feel like if their were worse actors in it, or actors less on board with the queer subtext, the show would just be baiting. That's how thin the line is for me with Good Omens. Also, I hate to say it, but it was clearly not written with ace people in mind. Neil just heard ace people feeling represented and nodded along in agreement. If you seee the phrase "their love is above physical intimacy" it's not ace positivity, it's someone being sleeved out by gay sex. The angels are mentioned being sexless in the book, amd fans put more thought into the angels gender or lackthereof than the show does, except for the one non-binary actor that plays Poison and i think ine of the angels. The leads are essentially written as and meant to be seen as cis male by audience members, not nonbinary characters that pass as cis male. And I'm sorry, but Crowley in a dress was a man-in-dress joke, and Neil just nodded when people praised it. There is better ace rep out there, stories with better queer subtext, and better stories with better representation. Can people please stop praising protecting the straight man with a good show with mediocre rep from the mean queers. Why is there this narrative that we have to love all media remotely queer and see it as good rep inherently and that it will "divide the community" and "helping the enemy" if we don't?

ok so my memory of gomens is VERY hazy but i think the je ne sais quoi that you’re saying is missing is how the show essentially builds an entire story arc with crowley and and aziraphale’s relationship, with an inciting incident and a rising action and then… it skips the climax and goes straight to the resolution.

like, they build up this relationship in the show so much more than they do in the books. and because of the nature of “opposite sides of a war” thing, there’s a lot of tension that comes with that. they care about each other but their friendship is forbidden and they’re conflicted about it so they hide their feelings and they reject each other despite how they constantly hang out with each other and when one of them is in danger they go crazy. and a story arc like that needs a Big Conversation, an “all cards on the table emotional vulnerability hashing it out” kinda scene. it needs a confession, basically.

and the thing is that this confession doesn’t have to be explicitly romantic for it to work in the show. it can literally sum up to “you’re my best friend and i would do anything for you, i don’t care what the rest of the world says” and that would be a good climax for that story arc. but it needs to be a lot more dramatic than the few short scenes that we did get in the show where they actually talked about their feelings for each other.

anyway i’m with you for all the criticisms you have of this show and the fandom and also neil himself. good omens is a very good show that gets a lot of undue praise from queer fans who can’t separate their personal connection with the characters and the story from being able to actually identify groundbreaking queer representation. like you can just enjoy the show, not every story with queer rep has to be a Diversity Win

i feel like that narrative of “we have to love all queer media or else you’re dividing the community” comes primarily from fans who think gomens is groundbreaking and who take criticism of their favorite show way too personally. so like, when you say “good omens isn’t amazing queer representation” they think of that as a criticism—bc to them it is amazing queer representation—and not as just… a statement of fact. bc like, not every show needs to be incredible queer representation??? imo? so THEN they think you’re insulting the show and bc they love the show so much it feels like a personal attack on them. that part specifically is very common in general lol, people take criticisms of their favorite show VERY personally

#mine #not gay pirates #good omens #fandom crit #ask #anon