#a you're not going to see this because you're not on tumblr or at least you weren't before and you don't follow me

[fangirleaconmigo]

Ok, I have wondered this for a long time, but been too afraid of sounding stupid to ask. BUT this is tumblr, and we have polls, so here we go off the ledge.

It has always confused me when people say an animated character is hot, especially anime or simple drawings. I can only see a few lines and that's it, I don't visually fill in the blanks of animation or drawings.

Maybe the X factor is the way our brains can imagine or not imagine additional information, maybe visuals. I am not internally visual, so when I read, I don't 'see' things. (it's fuzzy and wordy in there). But I could be totally wrong.

So here is my question. If you are attracted to animated characters, or find them hot, or fantasize about them, do any of these fit you?

And PLEASE do tags or replies I am so fascinated, and it's not like they do scientific studies on animation and visual brains vs not visual brains plus horniness. (at least not to my knowledge)

OH AND PLEASE PLEASE NO JUDGMENTAL OR MEAN COMMENTS THIS IS FOR SCIENCE (tm), I will delete any shamey comments in the replies!!

#polls #animation #i know i shouldn't ask #BUT I'M SO CURIOUS

[moash]

hello don't mind me i was just mass liking your posts! i hope you're having a great day i hope you don't mind this ramble but i feel you'd understand :)

so basically i've had a super long .... beef with the series so far about how it's handling racism/classism and their roles in the story so i was like hey, let me do a little fix it project! because after reading OB i was just disappointed with how it handled kaladin's arc (he's my favorite so i want to see him done justice) but also moash's arc.

anyway, i was rereading parts of WOR to get the details right, and re-reading Moash talk about what happened to his family and how he just returned and they were all gone BROKE MY HEARTTTT. i also noticed how he was so ready to put in the work during training to get good at using swords and shardblades. like he had CONVICTION to succeed and i loved that about him.

so moash literally went from a character i didn't mind on my first read to becoming one of my favorites and now i just get so upset thinking about like how the series is painting him so far. i bring this up because i was like dang, if i'm this pressed about it, i can't imagine tumblr-user-moash's feelings about it. anyway here's to hoping that SA5 does him justice. also moash for bondsmith is brilliant. also thank you for defending him 😌 sorry if this is repetitive but do you feel optimistic that a redemption arc could happen for him in SA5?

mass likers are like being visited by angels, i love youuu 💕 and i would love to read your fix-it if you ever post it 👀

as for sa5. haha. i try to keep really optimistic about it. i am a writer myself and everything that i believe about writing good stories tells me that he basically has to be redeemed, even if it’s right before his death (cliche, but it would at least still fulfill the assignment). right? because the themes of redemption for the entire story would be just completely thrown out in a major way if he wasn’t, not to mention that every moash pov chapter that revealed his complex feelings about his choices and his current situation would have been made essentially pointless and time-wasting. like i don’t see from an objective writing standpoint how the story could be good if he wasn’t redeemed, and that keeps me going more than anything else, because while i have a lot of issues with sanderson’s writing, i don’t think he’s just plain stupid, right? so yea, that’s what keeps me going.

however!!! he has really dropped the ball with regards to racism/classism/etc in stormlight, so while this would i think be his biggest fumble yet, it’s not entirely impossible to see some truly bad stuff happen in moash’s arc in sa5. but i try to keep optimistic and keep my expectations relatively low (like death bed redemption would suck but i guess i would ultimately be ok with it, sigh)

sorry that i forgot to answer this for so long, and thank you for stopping by!! 🥰💕

#ask #anon #moash #kowt speculation #kowt #the stormlight archive

[himabyul]

Satan & Violins

I share a lot of similarities with Satan, even when before they canonized something about him; one of them being violinist!Satan😭 In spite of me having a mini identity crisis following the drop of his canon violinist card, i think it makes sense! heres why.

Disclaimer!

1. I have not picked up an instrument in years

2. This is purely bcuz my brain is so busy thinking abt Satan so its kinda rambly. . Pls bare w me T_T

3. THIS IS LONG IM SO SORRY

4. Not too used to tumblr writing just yet sorry if it's messy

(Uploaded on my twitter aswell :D)

The violin and its family, unlike other string instruments (ex. the guitar), doesnt have these little things (that i forgor the name of because im a bad musician) that separates every note. those little separating thingies are the reason why people who dont know shit about playing a key on guitar but memorize musical scales (me) is at least able to strum a simple one octave melody.

Obviously, the two come in with their one difficulty (i prefer the violin myself), but it's a little bit harder to pull that trick with the violin. As you can see, theres not exactly something to tell you where each note begins or where they end. Nothing to determine where is where. You simply have to memorize the placement and the distance between each note. You basically play the violin with Your Gut (1). We'll keep this in mind for now.

Moving on, let's talk about body posture.

Beginner violinist usually directlty face towards the strings when playing, as they aren't used to letting their 'gut' lead the show. However, more experienced players would find no need to do so. A quick glance at Satan's art could tell us he was at least above beginner level to be brave enough to face (us) instead.

When you're not facing your violin, you would usually lean your head towards it, resulting in your ear becoming the closest thing to it- here's a real life example:

Now, if there was anything my teacher warned me before starting violin, is that even without having your ear be the closest thing to it, the strings are already LOUD😭 so its even louder when you alr have ur ear on it. The violin is considered one of the most emotional instruments ever, their lower sound resemble what we use to express sadness in speech. Basically, what I'm trying to say is, you as a player are forced to feel what you're playing. Thus is also why you play the violin with Your Heart (2).

So, how does this tie into Satan? It's no secret that our handsome man is incredibly romantic, and to me if he ever wants to express something to us and making sure the message is clearly received, the equally emotional violin is his best bet! The violin allows Satan to play heartwrenching notes that would quickly be felt by the listener.

Lets get technical.

There's still another side of the violin, as there is another side to Satan. The way you stroke your bow matters, the way you angle it so you'll only hit the notes you want. (thankfully if you mess up, the violin is made to still sound graceful😂). Satan too, is quite the detail oriented person. He is tactical, analytical, observant, a man obsessed with striving to be the perfect one, etc etc. The need of preciseness of the violin is definitely right up his alley. The way you need everything to be correct to be rewarded for a beautiful sound. Idk exactly where I'm going with this but it's basically intelligence meets emotion kinda thing, do you see it too?!?!

In conclusion, the violin is a wonderful instrument that both requires great attention to detail yet is also incredibly emotional and heartfelt, an instrument that requires your gut and heart guide your play without abandoning technique. Satan, the incredibly smart yet fluffy softie, is quite literally made for this and I LOVE HIM for that RAAAAAAHHHH. im normal.

THATS IT RLLY im soooo sorry if it's incredibly messy please have a sugarry picture <3 ily

#obey me satan #satan obey me #yes i like omori how did you know #thinking abt me and satan covering duet mghhhnnnhhhh #STAN SATAN OUR MULTI TALENTED KING FOR CLEAR SKIN #rambling a bit #obey me #obey me nightbringer

[licorice-lips]

Hi, everyone! So, I know there's a lot of controversy about Rhys's behavior Under the Mountain (at least in Brazil fandom it's a hot topic), a discussion that is valid and definitely needs to be had, so I did a lot of research on the subject and compiled the three texts that influenced me the most into a compilation that I'll share here — along with my thoughts and additions.

These texts that serve as my supports were made here on Tumblr and can be found under the following titles, although the third one is the most comprehensive of them all:

*Rhysand's Defense Post (The author had only read A Court of Thorns and Roses when she wrote this).

*The Difference Between Tamlin and Rhysand: The Man on the Throne and the Man in the Arena — Acotar and Acomaf's Excerpt Analysis (The author was following the small teaser quotes for A Court of Mist and Fury and analyzed them).

*Understanding Tamlin and Rhysand — A Post-Acomaf Reconciliation of Rhys's Actions Under The Mountain in a Culture of Defeat.

In addition to discussing Rhys's behavior, however, I'm also going to discuss Tamlin's behavior and compare the two. It's going to be quite fun… Just a heads up that I don't want any hate messages. Do you want to share your thoughts agreeing or disagreeing? That's fine, but with respect. Any offensive comments will be deleted.

Now here's my defense post for Rhys:

Leadership is a heavy burden. When you're a leader, especially when it's not your choice but comes to you because of the family you were born into, for example, responsibility can be a burden. But when you're a leader, there's something very important to consider when making a decision: those who follow you.

All of Rhys's actions as High Lord of the Night Court must be thought of to put the well-being of those he is responsible for first. And when he, Tamlin, and the other High Lords are Under the Mountain, he decides that he will be Amarantha's whore to ensure that his Court is in the best possible condition within the situation — he lets himself be raped to ensure that his people and his family remain safe when he could have done nothing.

But from the moment Feyre strikes the deal with Amarantha, he is the only one who is truly in a position to make a difference: the other High Lords do not have enough of Amarantha's trust for her not to suspect anything if one of them tried to bargain with Feyre as Rhys did, for example. If any other High Lord — Kallias, Thesan, Helion, etc. — tried the same thing as Rhys, Amarantha would have been suspicious.

So in this case, he is the only one who can truly act.

But he doesn't have to. The point is that his Court is reasonably safe because of his role in the court Amarantha built, so Rhys doesn't really need to help Feyre win. But he does it, not because he wants his power back, but because he's the kind of leader who will do everything achievable to change — for what he believes is the best — the lives of his people.

And I'll talk about how admirable that is later on when we're talking about the culture of war and defeat, and about Tamlin's behavior. So, he decides to act, and he tells Feyre in A Court of Mist and Fury:

"I decided at that moment that I would fight. And fight dirty, and kill and torture and manipulate, but fight. If there was any chance of freeing us from Amarantha, it was you." (A Court of Mist and Fury, page 550, Brazilian edition)

He knows, then, that the fight he would have to wage was not the beautiful, heroic, noble thing we're so used to seeing: Rhys knew that his actions to ensure victory — for Feyre and Prythian as a whole — would be horrible and would probably haunt him for the rest of his life. He knows that. And he doesn't excuse himself for a moment. He doesn't invent, he doesn't embellish, he doesn't paint himself as a hero. He knows he's not and he really isn't a hero.

A hero is someone who sacrifices themselves in a grand gesture to save the entire population, a true hero doesn't really sacrifice one person to save others. And while Rhys does have his own share of sacrifices, that doesn't excuse him from the horrible actions he took Under the Mountain:

So, the first part of his questionable behavior in Under the Mountain comes to light: the moment he twists Feyre's injured arm to convince her, to scare her enough to accept his bargain. This is a minor moment and my description alone makes it understandable: he does what he does to keep her alive and charges an insignificant price (which he planned to release her from later, as he himself says) to keep up appearances.

And Rhys needs to keep up appearances because his whole game to defeat Amarantha depends on how he appears to her and to other people: no one can notice while he moves the pieces on the board to bring the advantage to them. No one, not even Feyre, who is the "lamb to the slaughter," so to speak. And she can't know for several reasons:

Feyre is not in a mental condition to act and pretend to hate him as much as he needs her to pretend. So if she knew what he was doing, she would probably let something slip, or wouldn't be convincing enough, because honestly? Who could?

Rhys spent the last 50 years fighting alone and being surrounded by people who constantly despised him for being Amarantha's whore or for those who tried to ingratiate themselves with her through him, so he doesn't trust others easily, even though he was falling in love with Feyre, as he says in ACOMAF.

He couldn't trust that Feyre wouldn't trust others — Lucien and, therefore, Tamlin — with this knowledge. With their mutual hatred, they would surely end up messing things up.

Feyre was there to protect the High Lord who killed his mother and sister — and Rhys didn't know that Feyre didn't know the history behind his and Tamlin's relationship — so, in theory, it made sense that he wouldn't want to show his "true face" to her.

That's exactly what the book is about: like a retelling of Beauty and the Beast, the book is about how appearances deceive. If Feyre found out that Rhys is a decent person right away, it would be the same as throwing the whole intention of the story out the window.

So we have the second — and most controversial of all — point: the dance and the wine. I'm not going to mince words about this: It was sexual harassment. Period. But with this, Rhys manages to:

Get Feyre out of her cell, which is driving her crazy, as she says in this part: "I was alone, locked in silence — although the screams in the dungeon continued day and night. When they became unbearable and I couldn't ignore them, I looked at the eye in my palm." (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 356, Brazilian Edition). And let's face it, anyone would go crazy in an environment like that.

Keep an eye on Feyre so that no one else could harm her — something he disguises with a comment about not liking others to touch what's his — and that's a curious thing because Feyre never expresses concerns about being abused by others after Rhys starts taking her to these parties (it's also interesting to note that despite the various traumas of what happened Under the Mountain, Feyre never showed any signs of trauma from sexual abuse, as far as I know — and again, not that this excuses Rhys, it's just a factor to point out that maybe she understood his game better than we did).

To leave Tamlin full of anger — which he claims is the main reason for all that theater during A Court of Thorns and Roses — so that he wouldn't hesitate if he had the slightest chance to kill Amarantha in the end or between challenges, no matter as long as he didn't hesitate. Because from Rhys's perspective, Tamlin is the noble golden prince who might spare Amarantha's life to demand some kind of trial or something. Which I consider he might have been dumb enough to do too.

Divert Amarantha's attention, as, thinking that Feyre was already humiliated and abused enough during those nights, she wouldn't give Feyre those ridiculous tasks anymore (like cleaning that filthy hall or collecting lentils from Rhys's fireplace). And if you reread ACOTAR, she really never gives those small tasks to Feyre again after that.

Send a message to those who could read, as Rhys himself says: he crowns Feyre every night, and for the cruel ones, this would be a subtle kind of mockery, but for those who could see beyond the evil, Rhys was declaring Feyre the champion of them all. He declared that he believed in her and in her potential to free them all.

Convince Amarantha that he's still playing on her side — a belief that was shaken by Rhys betting on Feyre in the first task and closing that bargain to heal her arm. This might be the most fundamental of all points: the one that allows the game to continue toward victory. He needs to prove to Amarantha that he's doing it for fun, out of cruelty, considering Feyre as the whore of the whore, someone lower than the lowest of courtesans. Thus, Rhys clears the way to act when the time is right.

By taking Feyre with him to those parties, he moved not one, but six pieces of the game to be in his favor. He killed six birds with one stone. Strategically, it's an incredible tactic, by the way. But morally, this act leaves something to be desired.

So why the wine and the dance? Because Rhysand plays with appearances. Everything in his game depends on it.

Feyre wouldn't play the whore of the whore while conscious, no one with a shred of self-respect would accept that without knowing the reason behind it, and Rhysand, for the reasons I mentioned, wouldn't tell her anything. So he makes her drink the wine to keep the whole purpose of that show and keeps her close to prevent her from being touched by anyone other than him.

But besides that, the wine is a form of escape, a way to forget about the horrors, as Feyre herself says at the end of the chapter where all this happens:

"[…] and I began to long for the moment when Rhysand would hand me the goblet of faerie wine and I could let loose for a few hours." (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 381).

In fact, Rhys sees it this way: when he is forced to kill the High Lord of the Summer Court (not Tarquin, but his cousin from whom he "inherited" the title, Nostrus), he himself drinks the wine with Feyre — it's an escape from the character he so carefully plays because not even Rhys can bear everything without letting the facade fall, even if only a little.

Note: not that I'm saying this would be a healthy way to deal with all that trauma and accumulated stress, but considering the place they were in and the situation, perhaps it was the most… effective way.

I have to say, however, that all of this doesn't justify what he did: it was still sexual abuse and it's still very bad and very serious. However, I need to point out to you: what we do to survive often does not reflect what we would be in a normal situation (normal being their everyday life without Amarantha, in this case).

When we are confronted with a situation like this, where to survive we end up needing to do something horrible, many say they would never do and would take the noble path of dying before giving up their values and principles, which is great, it proves that you have a very good character. The problem is that Rhys doesn't have the choice to think only of himself and how much this abuse will cost his dignity and principles because every decision he makes affects his people.

So here's my question for you: could you love someone who chose to preserve you instead of saving thousands of innocent — children, women, and men — who are under their responsibility?

Because I couldn't love someone who did that. And that's how I make peace with what Rhys did to Feyre Under the Mountain: I couldn't love someone who condemned the world to save me from abuse that I know I can endure — even if it causes me terrible harm.

Of course, it's entirely valid if you decide not to forgive him for what he did, because, after all, it's a morally gray action when you consider the whole situation they were in and what Rhys did. So, no one is really wrong for not forgiving Rhys for what he did, but those who forgive him aren't wrong either. It's very important that we understand that.

Now, an argument that is often used and that annoys me every time I hear it is that Sarah "changed Rhys and Tamlin's personalities because of shipping", so she ignored everything Rhys did Under the Mountain to make him the hero just because fans liked him. There are so many things wrong with that that I don't even know where to begin, but let's analyze all of Tamlin's, Feyre's, and Rhys's behavior throughout the ACOTAR and ACOMAF stories and show why I know Sarah did absolutely everything with careful consideration:

There is a trait that is very striking in Tamlin from the beginning of the ACOMAF story and is especially explicit when Alis tells the whole story about Amarantha, Tamlin, and the curse, which is the fact that Tamlin can't deal with the consequences of his actions:

The first time he does this is at the beginning of the curse when he gives up sending his soldiers to die for him, thus Tamlin simply gives up not only freeing himself but all of Prythian, all the people who live there, and still condemns the human lands in the process. He only started sending the soldiers out of desperation after 46 years, look at Alis's speech:

"For two years, he sent them, day after day, needing to choose who crossed the wall. When there were only a dozen left, Tamlin was so devastated that he stopped. He canceled everything." (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 294, Brazilian Edition).

The second time I can point out is Feyre herself (this because I'm ignoring the events during her stay in the Spring Court, as I don't remember what happened): he takes Feyre to Prythian with the intention of making her fall in love with him, but at the first glimpse of direct danger from Amarantha — in this case, the scene where Rhys makes him kneel — he sends her away.

He gives up saving Prythian because he can't stick to the decision to put Feyre in danger so that she could break the curse, so much so that he condemns himself for it, because Feyre only doesn't say that she loves him — and breaks the curse — precisely because she's leaving:

"— I love you. — He said, and stepped back. I should say — should say those words, but they got stuck in my throat because… Because of what he needed to face, because maybe he wouldn't find me again, despite the promise…" (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 261, Brazilian Edition)

These are the main events, and perhaps I could list more for you if I reread A Court of Thorns and Roses. But what does this show us? That every time Tamlin makes a decision, he freezes and backs down at the first sign of an obstacle. He retreats and avoids anything that shakes him.

So it makes sense that Tamlin's reaction Under the Mountain is paralysis — a common behavior among leaders in times of war and defeat, by the way, which aligns not only with Tamlin's personality but also with the reaction of a true leader in such a situation.

Alright, let's stop there and go back in time to analyze Feyre's behavior:

Right from the start, we learn that, even being the youngest of three sisters, Feyre was the one who, when they were starving, took action and sought a solution, which shows us right away the kind of person Feyre is: she's the kind of person who acts when forced to face danger, whether it's something intangible, like death by starvation, or tangible, like Amarantha.

This is proven repeatedly throughout the books: when she seeks answers with the Suriel, when she tries to fight off the bastards who tried to rape her at Calanmai (because paralysis can also be a reaction to abuse of that kind), when she goes to Under the Mountain to fight for Tamlin without even hesitating, when she heals from the traumas of Under the Mountain as soon as she has something to focus on, something to dedicate herself to.

And this is one of the fundamental differences between Tamlin and Feyre: while he paralyzes, she acts, and whether we like it or not, differences create friction. Especially with what happened Under the Mountain because she and Tamlin were separated, and neither of them experienced trauma together. Paralysis generates a different trauma from the trauma of someone who is acting, so the end of their relationship begins when she goes to save him Under the Mountain — and Tamlin freezes.

Then we have Rhysand, who is exactly like Feyre: he acts when confronted with danger or defeat and has thousands of actions of his that exemplify this:

As soon as he becomes High Lord, he bans the wing clipping of Illyrian females regardless of the reaction of the Illyrian lords or what they thought about it. It's not that he doesn't care: Rhys, unlike Tamlin, is willing to pay the price that comes when a decision is made.

He becomes Amarantha's whore to protect his people from her getting too close to them. He doesn't care about the cost to himself simply because Rhys knows he's doing some good for his own people by letting himself be raped.

When he sees in Feyre the chance to do something to free all of Prythian, he goes all in knowing that that game would be total defeat or victory. He acts.

When Hybern starts threatening Prythian, he is willing to do whatever it takes — lose a potential friend, hand over the city he loved with all his heart to horrible women, give up his own life — so that they wouldn't fall into slavery again.

When the war comes anyway, he faces it head-on and uses every card he has to stop the King of Hybern: monsters of all kinds, all his power, his own life, and the truth about himself, about who he is.

And these are just a few examples. The fundamental difference between Tamlin and Rhys, just like between Tamlin and Feyre, is how they respond to situations and traumas.

Quoting Teddy Roosevelt (btw, this is a direct translation of the Portuguese version of the quote, so it can be different from the original):

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."

Feyre and Rhysand are the ones in the arena, they are the ones who fight to be able to act in the face of evil — Amarantha. And it's interesting to note that those who condemn Rhys for the dubious actions he took Under the Mountain never say anything about Feyre committing murder there as well, which is a crime as heinous (or at least should be when it comes to innocent people) as Rhys's.

I'll tell you why: when we're faced with a gray and complex character like Rhys — and we don't know his heart, instead we're "infected" with the main character's partial view — we tend to connect him directly with evil, instead of understanding that this character is neither wholly good nor bad. We forgive soldiers for killing people in a war — that's also a combat in Under the Mountain, so why can't we forgive both Rhys and Feyre?

We forgive Feyre because we know how sorry she is, we know her heart, and we love her. But Rhys? He's the High Lord of the Night Court — which alone triggers some unconscious alerts within us — and he's playing dirty, hiding, and being a horrible person, so why should he be forgiven?

That's what our brain unconsciously thinks sometimes, and it makes us judge some characters more severely. Understanding the duality and complexity of a character is not an easy task; it requires a lot of empathy and an open mind.

But why am I saying this? Because it's important to understand: Rhys and Feyre are extremely similar, and they understand each other at a fundamental level because of that. Tamlin, on the other hand, has a completely different personality. He's the one who freezes, who paralyzes.

Rhys and Feyre experience the trauma Under the Mountain together, so Feyre and Tamlin are separated, which, combined with the glaring difference between the two, makes it difficult — perhaps impossible — for them to heal together because, out of loyalty to the character's nature, Sarah can't make Tamlin talk about what's happening like Feyre needs.

Even after Under the Mountain, Tamlin's instinctive action is to freeze. So he doesn't talk about Feyre's nightmares, he pretends not to see her despair, he turns away from her need to talk about the subject — because looking at her trauma would be the same as acknowledging his own.

And he can't do that because it's part of his nature to freeze. But this isn't healthy, hence the explosions of anger, and hence he locks Feyre up the moment she tries to assert herself: these are the consequences of forcing someone who deals with PTSD by freezing to actually deal with their traumas (that and the fact that he's horrible).

I can understand that (not in his relationship with Feyre, I'm talking more generally here, about him as High Lord, he can rot otherwise) but I can't forgive it like I did with Rhys because, unlike the actions Rhys took, paralysis only allows evil to continue to grow and end up imprisoning us (this is, in fact, one of the reasons why Tamlin didn't try to fight like Rhys while Amarantha was killing Feyre: his lack of previous action left him unable to take action when it was time to "put up or shut up").

While Tamlin's paralysis pushes us down while doing us harm, Rhys's actions, as horrible as they may be, are done in the hope of something good, they're done to move us forward. I can forgive him because I'd rather be someone who does horrible things in the hope of creating something better than be someone who allows evil to continue to grow until it imprisons me.

It's that simple.

And Feyre is exactly that kind of person. She needs to act, she needs to talk about it to heal. She needs to have a purpose, not be coddled like Tamlin — and his trauma — wants her to be.

The relationship between her and Tamlin becomes abusive the moment he tries to stifle her feelings to maintain a state of paralysis. And that's something you'd expect from a character like Tamlin, that's how he was built. But this happens long before Under the Mountain: I remember that on the first day Feyre yields to the dresses Tamlin gave her in ACOTAR, I think it was the morning after Calanmai, she warns herself to be gentle, to be kind, when dealing with Tamlin and Lucien.

But after Under the Mountain, Feyre can no longer accept that her feelings be stifled simply because her traumas are consuming her from the inside out. So she fights back. And that's what completely ends their relationship.

But the point is: both Tamlin, Feyre, and Rhysand follow exactly the line of their personalities throughout the story. They are those kinds of people from start to finish. There's an evolution, of course, but it's an evolution of beliefs, opinions, and perceptions — their essences remain the same.

That's why Sarah is brilliant in these books: by being completely faithful to her characters' personalities, she created a story that discusses abusive relationships, the varied responses of certain types of people to trauma, and the various reactions of leaders in times of war and defeat.

But the point is: none of them were changed to fit a ship, simply because they weren't changed. All three of these characters act exactly the way they should within the limits of their own personalities.

Rhys is the High Lord who plays dirty to create a better world, and Tamlin is a leader who can't make a tough decision. And there's another fundamental difference between them:

While Rhys knows that, from time to time, he'll be forced to make decisions that will end up harming part of his people (and will choose the lesser of two evils), Tamlin still struggles with the enchanted vision of a superhero who saves everyone without exception. And when that doesn't happen — because it's never possible to save everyone no matter what you do — he prefers not to act.

I think the two things that illustrate very well the kind of person Rhys and Tamlin are is the Illyrian tradition of cutting the wings of their females and the Tribute:

Rhys risks a revolt to improve the lives of his people and sticks to that decision, willing to pay the price for it if the result is a better life for the Illyrian females, while Tamlin fails to abolish an extremely unnecessary tax because his inability to act makes him cling to archaic traditions like the Tribute.

So, yes, I forgive Rhys for what he did Under the Mountain, because I couldn't love someone who freezes and leaves me to die. I prefer to love someone who cares so deeply about something — a dream — that they're willing to fight and play dirty for it. And then go to battle to defend it.

Hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to point out points that I didn't comment on; I'll try to respond to everyone's comments!"

#acotar #rhysand #feyre archeron #feysand #rhys acotar #books #fantasy books #sjm #sarah j. maas #sarah j maas #cassian acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #tamlin #tamlin acotar #morrigan

[underthehedge]

CTVT and a weird niche theory I fell down the rabbit hole about - giant transforming retroviruses???

This is a story about how a single line on a wikipedia page sent me down a rabbit hole of finding one scientist's fringe theory that's juuuust plausible enough to make me question everything while almost certainly being absolute fucking bunk.

Some background

So, on parts of tumblr at least we all know about Canine Transmissible Venereal Tumour, aka The Immortal Cancer Dog. For those who don't know, it's a cancer dogs get, usually on their junk, that unlike most other cancers, isn't made up of their own cells. The cells are actually all descended from this one dog or wolf that lived like 11,000 years ago and are, arguably, all technically that one dog. A dog that became a single-celled infectious disease.

We have a wealth of genetic, histological and observational evidence for this. As in, we know it what population of canids it came from, we know it's got a weird chromosomal structure compared to normal dogs, we know it's genetically distinct from the hosts. We also know it's not the only one out there: There's a similar thing in Syrian hamsters and also the famous Tasmanian Devil Facial Tumour Disease (DFTD).

Which made me pause when I was reading something on wikipedia about the devil facial tumour and saw a line mentioning that it was now known to be caused by a giant virus, much like CTVT. Which...huh? Oh I hadn't heard that afore.

Giant viruses

Ok so giant viruses are a thing and they're fuckin cool. They're a relatively recent discovery and comparatively huge, i.e. bigger than a bunch of bacteria. They were only discovered in 1981 and we still don't know an enormous amount about them but they're big and have large genomes and because of the way viruses are they're not easy to detect unless you're specifically looking for them.

They show up under microscopy (sometimes) and you can find them with genetic probes but you gotta already be looking for them to see that really. Current research though basically says they're more common than we think, just overlooked, and there's software out there that scans through genomic data to find sequences that might indicate their presence. There's even a possibility that one group might be involved in some cases of pneumonia in humans, though I need to stress that that's extremely not confirmed right now.

The "wait, what?" moment

So I mentioned that it was a line in the wiki article for DFTD that had me going "wait, really?", the line in question was this:

A study found evidence for an infectious agent resembling a giant virus that was capable of turning heathy cells into cancer cells. It was found to be a huge retrovirus with similar viruses being found in human and canine cancer cells.

Big If True.

So of course I check the source, which was a 2020 paper by Lusi et al. titled "A transforming giant virus discovered in Canine Transmissible Venereal Tumour: Stray dogs and Tasmanian devils opening the door to a preventive cancer vaccine".

Hang on, CTVT not DFTD? This is where some alarm bells went off because uh, as mentioned at the start, we know a shit ton about CTVT. Including the fact that it's all one specific dog. Which doesn't fit at all with the idea that it's caused by a virus transforming host cells into cancer cells.

So what fucking gives? What is this research that fully overturns decades of pretty conclusive research to the contrary?

Is this another case of Dr Barbara McClintock? Who spent decades being ridiculed by the scientific community over her wild theory that was, in fact, 100% right even if it seemed to fly in the fact of all prior evidence?

Or is this a Dr Donald I. Williamson situation wherein a scientist with appropriate training is just wildly but extremely vehemently wrong?

#science #genetics #cancer #canine transmissible venereal tumour #devil facial tumour disease #niche science #I'm breaking this up into several sections for readability #stay tuned for more #also feel free to ask any questions about stuff #I'll provide links to things as well but I know tumblr can bury posts with certain links in and idk if researchgate counts

[revvetha]

honestly hate that I'm still fucking around on tumblr atm. and that I can still message people during a 30min window of the afternoon where I'm just in the sweetspot of caffeination. I'm doing so unbelievably bad atm and like... It's not like I share much outside of tumblr, but I genuinely don't think anyone would even believe me or understand how serious it is. Because I'm not being dramatic and mysteriously brooding and hiding away, and instead I still occasionally post about my blorbos or whatever. Like my suffering doesn't count unless it fills up every hour of every day and is the only thing I talk about. Like maybe if I isolated myself even more and were even more self destructive, someone would give a shit.

How fucking ridiculous that I wish I could be sexier and cooler and more dramatic about my own mental illness

#Idfk it's all so stupid. And now I'm on tumblr posting about it AGAIN instead of shutting the fuck up . god. #I honestly just want someone to see how rough it is and offer literally Any kind of support or at least validation. #like if someone just said like 'I can see you're having a really difficult time and struggling much more than usual' or smth #I would already feel so validated and comforted fr #as gross as that is I WANT to feel a bit special. I want to be treated extra carefully bc I'm in an exceptionally bad state. #I want people to say 'it's rough for them atm so at let's all be extra kind and cut them some slack' #I'm really really really fucking tired of being strong about it #personal #vent #if therapy worked on me that'd also be swell lol #Anyway I'm going to bed because I'm more sad and scared than I can handle while conscious lol

[drewsaturday]

i really do think people need to devote a week to archiving their favorite fanworks when they join a new fandom to save the rest of us the insane guilt tripping whenever we decide we want to delete something we made and have the right to toss out

#txt #i've been doing this forever because... i know the internet is not permanent... #and i forget that other people don't lol #i know my computer could die unexpectedly at any time and backing things up can be expensive/time consuming etc #basically i know it's always great to have these things still exist online just in case #but what do you mean you don't at least TRY to have an offline gallery of your favorite creations lmao? #even just toss stuff in google drive man it's not that hard #no method is guaranteed but sites go down w/o warning all the time anyway why wouldn't you save your faves #if you have the most basic means to be able to #which you probably do if you're able to see that fanwork in the first place #at least for the basics like fanart and fics #even if you can't download to a device... fun fact.... reblogging art archives it on your blog... #tumblr won't be around forever but hey! reblog things maybe and you'll be better off

[neverendingford]

.

#color says shit #this is about the twitterpocalypse and tumblr getting weird about it #do y'all realize that these communities have existed on tumblr already. it's not all superwholock and quirky tumblr U #Christians exist on tumblr. Maga-heads exist on tumblr. alt-right exist on tumblr. #it's just that there's no algorithm pushing it in front of you. #without that unifying algorithm tumblr remains disparate social circles that are very clear and easy to map out #which is what I love about it. you can see the web of social dynamics so clearly because there's no hand of god pushing anyone forward #but to condescend and try to get Twitter users to go through Tumblr U orientation so they know about your ten year old memes is blind #unless you're following tags. you won't see any of the new people until people you follow reblog that shit. #entire groups and cultures can live and die next door and you won't notice shit because their posts simply do not circulate to you #anyway not that any of you care. and that's alright. maybe I just need to curate my feed so I stop seeing people be dumb about it #our glorious hellsite. their hideous tweetbook. you know the drill #saw someone try and throw in that classic opinion that reddit is the worst. like 'at least it's not redditors immigrating' like bruh stfu #internet xenophobia is fucking hilarious but I'm kinda tired of laughing #tumblr isn't the only goddamned place that has inside jokes #it's just tumblr nationalism #this feels like one of those posts that I could make actual text and then use the appropriate tags to get some traction but idgaf #I don't need a bunch of people agreeing with me. I just want to complain #I would absolutely love to hear opinions though. other people's experiences are cool as shit #that 'not that any of you care' wasn't meant to be passive aggressive it was a 'I don't expect you to feel strongly about this'

[theophagie-remade]

Sometimes I genuinely forget that things like instagram exist. What do you even do there

#yeah yeah hellsite (affectionately) but like. at least i know that anyone who's completely bonkers here is being genuine #and idk i just think that my it's MY business instinct is too strong for me to want to share stuff on there or even use it #which ig is weird because of the whole people you likely know irl thing vs anonymity but that's the Thing actually #i don't really know how to explain it so. take stories for example. they can be kinda compared to anecdotal posts yeah #but the thing is why the hell should idk my ex classmate who i didn't even like or some random person know about my business. yuck #and i mean obviously everyone here is a random person too but it's different! #bc no one here is performing in the ''putting on a show for people to see'' way #the ''i'm a little money and this is my enclosure'' tumblr feel >>> #mytext #prompted by every time we go out somewhere my friends always put quite some effort into making these pretty collages for people to see #and idk nel bene e nel male i guess that it's important for them to share what they do with others #and idk maybe it's just one other socialTM thing that i simply don't understand + it's coupled with my general uncomfortable-ness #with the thought of people who i know but am not close to knowing literally anything about me #but it always leaves me feeling like. but don't you ever think that sono cazzi tuoi where you are and who you're with

[iri-desky]

GET KOSA TRENDING.

STOP SCROLLING NOW!

AS OF FEBRUARY 21ST, 2024, WE GOT FIVE DAYS UNTIL THE DAY OF DECISION OF THE KOSA BILL, WHICH WILL CAUSE MASS CENSORSHIP ROUND THE INTERNET IF PASSED. WE NEED EVERYONE TO KNOW ABOUT THIS AND CONTRIBUTE. I'M NOT GIVING UP ON YOU ALL.

(IMPORTANT UPDATE: Kosa will not necessarily pass on the 26th. It only has the support to pass in Senate, and we STILL HAVE TIME. That being said, time is of the essence.)

WE'RE DOWN TO THE WIRE BUT WE CAN'T GIVE UP YET. IF WE GIVE UP, EVERYTHING IS OVER. IF WE DON'T, AT LEAST WE HAVE A CHANCE.

I'M THE ONE WHO SOUNDED THE ALARM, AND I'M NOT GOING TO CURL UP AND DIE YET.

Reblog this post in every LEGAL way you can under the Tumblr guidelines with the appropriate tags. TELL AND TAG EVERYONE YOU KNOW, then add the tags to see below... and more if you can think of any complying.

Visit badinternetbills.com if you want to find a way to defeat KOSA. It WILL NOT take much of your time. Reblog with any other information or sources, too-- but make sure to reblog if you can.

Reblog if you support lgbtq+ content.

Reblog if you support questioning queer youth and/or abused youth getting the information they need.

Reblog if you support Ao3 and/or other sites that wholeheartedly preserve talentedly made media.

Reblog if you're going to repost this on other sites than Tumblr and spread the word across Twitter, Tik Tok, Pinterest, or elsewhere, alongside the link to badinternetbills.com.

Reblog if you think KOSA is unfair and shouldn't be anyone's problem -- including the adults ALL OVER THE DAMN EARTH forced to face the mass censorship it causes because "think of the American Children!".

Reblog if you support internet activism and Palestine.

Reblog if you hate fascism or censorship, and don't want actually serious and helpful conversations censored on the internet.

Reblog if you value the internet in any way at all whatsoever.

CHECK THIS PETITION, TOO! https://www.change.org/p/stop-the-kosa?recruiter=1331807538&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=sms&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_initial&utm_term=psf&recruited_by_id=57368c40-d0fd-11ee-98f7-2175430f819f&share_bandit_exp=initial-36809664-en-US

(Also, please reblog with at least "stop kosa" as a tag and not "kosa". I made the mistake of not adding just "kosa" as a tag...)

We won't let this stand any longer. Let's start a riot and get this trending.

#meme #memes #kosa bill #Stop kosa #bad internet bills #stop censorship #anti censorship #internet censorship #internet freedom #internet culture #Internet #signal boost #media preservation #social media #social justice #archive of our own #Ao3 #stop kids online safety act #very important post #important #anti conservative #antifascist #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Headcanons #LGBT #lgbtq #lgbtqia #lgbtq rights #lgbtq community

[homo-house]

hey uh so I haven't seen anyone talking about this here yet, but

the amazon river, like the biggest river in the fucking world, in the middle of the amazon fucking rainforest, is currently going through its worst drought since the records began 121 years ago

picture from Folha PE

there's a lot going on but I haven't seen much international buzz around this like there was when the forest was on fire (maybe because it's harder to shift the narrative to blame brazil exclusively as if the rest of the world didn't have fault in this) so I wanted to bring this to tumblr's attention

I don't know too many details as I live in the other side of the country and we are suffering from the exact opposite (at least three cyclones this year, honestly have stopped counting - it's unusual for us to get hit by even one - floods, landslides, we have a death toll, people are losing everything to the water), but like, I as a brazilian have literally never seen pictures of the river like this before. every single city in the amazonas state is in a state of emergency as of november 1st.

pictures by Adriano Liziero (ig: geopanoramas)

we are used to seeing images of rio negro and solimões, the two main amazon river affluents, in all their grandiose and beauty and seeing these pictures is really fucking chilling. some of our news outlets are saying the solimões has turned to a sand desert... can you imagine this watery sight turning into a desert in the span of a year?

while down south we are seeing amounts of rain and hailstorms the likes of which our infrastructure is simply not built to deal with, up north people who have built everything around the river are at a loss of what to do.

the houses there that are built to float are just on the ground, people who depend on fishing for a living have to walk kilometers to find any fish that are still alive at all, the biodiversity there is at risk, and on an economic level it's hard to grasp how people from the northern states are getting by at all - the main means of transport for ANYTHING in that region is via the river water. this will impact the region for months to come. it doesnt make a lot of sense to build a lot of roads bc it's just better to use the waterway system, everything is built around or floats on the river after all. and like, the water level is so incomprehensibly low the boats are just STUCK. people are having a hard time getting from one place to another - keep in mind the widest parts of the river are over 10 km apart!!

this shit is really serious and i am trying not to think about it because we have a different kind of problem to worry about down south but it's really terrifying when I stop to think about it. you already know the climate crisis is real and the effects are beyond preventable now (we're past global warming, get used to calling it "global boiling"). we'll be switching strategies to damage control from now on and like, this is what it's come to.

I don't like to be alarmist but it's hard not to be alarmed. I'm sorry that I can't end this post with very clear intructions on how people overseas can help, there really isn't much to do except hope the water level rises soon, maybe pray if you believe in something. in that regard we just have to keep pressing for change at a global level; local conditions only would not, COULD NOT be causing this - the amazon river is a CONTINENTAL body of water, it spans across multiple countries. so my advice is spread the word, let your representatives know that you're worried and you want change towards sustainability, degrowth and reduced carbon emissions, support your local NGOs, maybe join a cause, I don't know? I recommend reading on ecological and feminist economics though

however, I know you can help the affected riverine families by donating to organizations dedicated to helping the region. keep in mind a single US dollar, pound or euro is worth over 5x more in our currency so anything you donate at all will certainly help those affected.

FAS - Sustainable Amazon Fundation

Idesam - Sustainable Developent and Preservation Institute of Amazonas

Greenpeace Brasil - I know Greenpeace isn't the best but they're one of the few options I can think of that have a bridge to the international world and they are helping directly

There are a lot of other smaller/local NGOs but I'm not sure how you could donate to them from overseas, I'll leave some of them here anyway:

Projeto Gari

Caritás Brasileira

If you know any other organizations please link them, I'll be sure to reblog though my reach isn't a lot

thank you so much for reading this to the end, don't feel obligated to share but please do if you can! even if you just read up to here it means a lot to me that someone out there knows

also as an afterthought, I wanted to expand on why I think this hasn't made big news yet: because unlike the case of the 2020 forest fires, other countries have to hold themselves accountable when looking at this situation. while in 2020 it was easier to pretend the fires were all our fault and people were talking about taking the amazon away from us like they wouldn't do much worse. global superpowers have no more forests to speak of so I guess they've been eyeing what latin america still has. so like this bit of the post is just to say if you're thinking of saying anything of the sort, maybe think of what your own country has done to contribute to this instead of blaming brazil exclusively and saying the amazon should be protected by force or whatever

#solarpunk #sustainability #environmentalism #climate change #climate crisis #global warming #amazon rainforest #amazon river #geography #brazil #degrowth #punk #global boiling #ecopunk #anti capitalism #climate action #climate activism #the world does not die on my watch #i saw someone use that tag and uh i like it we should make it a thing #long post #:/ sorry i know no one likes lengthy bad news posts on their dashes but i've been thinking about this quite a bit #and i don't really know what to do to help bc i don't have money to donate and i am 10 thousand km away #i think i could be doing more to help but i am already trying my best #again dont feel obligated to share or read this but it would be nice and i would love you forever #have removed lbv from the post

[eightmakesonebraincell]

ateez as royals who fall for you (hyung line)

read maknae line here

genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes

length: 12.8k

c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)

a/n: this has simultaneously been the pride and joy of my life and the bane of my entire existence for the last 2.5 months 🥴 and tumblr is an inept incapable CLOWN who cannot handle the full 24k worth of bullet points so here is the hyung line first - maknae line coming soon (yumi @sorryimananti-romantic can vouch for my unsuccessful 3-hour attempt at formatting them into a single post)

hongjoong

pov: you're the king's royal courtesan

“fuck,” hongjoong lets out a deep growl from within his chest as his head dips down to rest against the crook of your neck. “you’re just as tight as last time”

when your hips involuntarily buck from the pleasure, he nudges your thighs further apart and keeps your wrists pinned above your head

he can’t help but let out another groan when he feels your walls clench around his cock as you adjust to his thickness

“i thought- god,” a moan escapes you after he thrusts his hips against you, “thought you never fucked the same woman twice”

“i don’t,” he simply says

and it’s true

hongjoong is one of the youngest princes to have ruled during the kim dynasty, having risen to power after the previous king succumbed early to an unknown illness

he has the choice and selection of all the courtesans available within the palace and outside its walls

hongjoong also has a reputation of being highly sought after by everybody, not just amongst courtesans

it’s not only because he is devilishly handsome, knows how to properly fuck somebody dumb, and is the literal king

the main thing that makes him so desirable and unreachable?

he never sees the same courtesan more than once

“yet here you are,” you hook your legs around hongjoong’s waist to gain leverage and meet his thrusts with your own hips, “between my legs for the second time”

you smirk when he curses and throws his head back

his grip on your wrists tightens and his voice drops dangerously low

“the first time doesn’t count because i was meant to see lady chae. so really, this is the first time i’m requesting for your services”

he silences you from retorting by pressing a bruising kiss against you, lips messily attaching to yours before trailing down the sharp angle of your jaw to bite your neck

you are a courtesan for people of nobility and royal status

part of the ‘house of flowers’ and commonly referred to as ‘flower courtesans’, you and the other women are highly-sought after for the companionship you offer

you are well protected by the house of flowers though - the services of companionship that you provide is requested by your client, but is ultimately accepted or rejected by you

lady chae, another of the flower courtesans and one of your closest friends, is requested by the king for her services

it is quite clear what it is going to entail and you both spend several of the following nights giggling and whispering scandalously to one another

whether the rumours about his stamina will be true

whether lady chae will be the first to break his one-fuck rule

except when the day of the meeting comes around, she spikes a sudden fever

lady shin, the head of the house of flowers, takes all but one look at her before ordering her to bed rest despite both of your attempts to, albeit unconvincingly, persuade lady shin that chae’s fever would only serve to help make the king’s dick warmer

lady shin is not amused to say the least

with the last minute hitch, the king agrees for you to be sent out to him as a replacement instead

and you end up being the flower courtesan who he breaks his reputed rule for

(lady chae is initially jealous, understandably)

(but very quickly, she appears to be even more excited than you are as she combs through your undergarments for the “sluttiest set” that she can find)

your attention is brought back as hongjoong flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, continuing to drag his length in and out of you while your back arches off the bed

you tease in between short breaths, “are you really bringing up another woman’s name while you have your cock inside me?”

“you brought it up first,” he reminds you, accentuating his answer with timed thrusts

you grind your hips against his, chasing more friction against your clit as you feel your high approaching

“why?” he snakes one of his hands down between your connected torsos to rub messy circles against your clit, smirking as he asks, “are you getting jealous already?”

for that, you clench down hard on his cock, immediately feeling the way it throbs inside of you as you bring him closer to his orgasm too

“as if. fuck off”

your words are hardly audible from the whines that are leaving your mouth due to the added pressure of another finger against your clit from your retaliation

“i’m close,” hongjoong releases his grip on your wrists so that he can straighten his body, anchoring his hand on your hip instead so that he can fuck you and rub your clit with his other hand with renewed vigour

when you hear him groan, “cum for me,” the string snaps and your whole body quivers in his hold as your orgasm washes over you

hongjoong’s hips gradually stutter to a pause, an occasional thrust inside your clenching pussy as he milks out the rest of his cum inside of you

he finally eases himself out of you and hums in satisfaction as he watches his cum slowly leak out of you

hongjoong drops down beside you, toned chest covered in a sheen layer of sweat as it rises up and down with his pants

when your fuzzy mind has cleared a little from the blissful haze of your orgasm, he strokes his fingertips along the side of your thigh, along the curve of your ass, and over the dip of your waist just under your breasts as he says, “you better not be jealous. first one to get jealous loses”

“if anyone’s going to get jealous first, it’s you,” you scoff back

he raises an eyebrow

oh yeah?

he shoves his leaking cum back inside of you and fingers you to another orgasm

now that shuts you up

for a man who barks, he sure has no bite, because you find yourself being notified by lady shin several days later of yet another request for your services under the king’s name

and another request turns into another

and every single time, hongjoong makes sure that the only word leaving your lips for those many hours is his moaned name

but at the same time, the more you and hongjoong meet, the more he just savours in your simple companionship

he asks you to teach him how to embroider because you’ve mentioned before it’s how you like to spend your free evenings

he rifles through your bag of materials that you bring

you smack his hand away at the carelessness with which he’s upturning everything

“what’s this?” he holds up a large, wooden hoop before trying to fit it through his head, “a necklace?”

“i wonder if people know they appointed an idiot to be king,” you say as you gently unscrew the hoops and demonstrate how to align a piece of fabric between the rings

he watches with interest as you screw the outer hoop tighter until the fabric is nice and taut and then repeat the process so you both have one to work with

you have to help hongjoong thread his needle too, because apparently the king’s fingers are only good for scissoring you open

you weave your own needle through the fabric at a slow pace whilst telling him the different names and uses of the stitches you’re showing him

except, when you look up to see if he’s following?

his own hoop has been abandoned to one side and he’s leaning against his hand as he gazes cheekily at you

“were you even paying attention?”

he sounds a little too confident when he answers not at all

in return, hongjoong shows you how to write hanja the next time you meet

he positions himself behind you with his hand over yours as he guides you through different characters stroke by stroke

he claims that there are specific ways of applying pressure to the brush so he has to be holding your hand at all times

you most definitely roll your eyes several times but you indulge him anyway

there are a lot of giggles and teasing pushes when you accidentally dip the end of your sleeve into the ink and you try to spread it onto his robes too

(the calligraphy may or may not become forgotten when hongjoong pins you down to stop your cheeky behaviour, because things naturally escalate whenever he has you under him)

you two do eventually manage to finish one decent-looking scroll of characters which he ends up gifting you so that you ‘don’t forget’ about him when you’re not with him

when you walk back into the house of flowers, the hanging scroll perks lady shin’s interest as you walk past

“hongjoong taught me how to write my name today”

lady shin waggles her eyebrows at you suggestively because of how casually you refer to the king, for which you nudge her with a shoulder

she laughs then asks to have a look

you unravel the paper to show her but then she makes a funny noise

“that’s not your name? these are the characters for- oh,” she cackles scandalously to herself, as if she has made a secret discovery

“what does it mean?” you hurry to clarify

you wouldn’t put it past him to have taught you a crude phrase instead, like ‘best tits’ or ‘biggest ass’

lady shin lets out an amused exhale, handing the scroll back to you

“it says, my flower”

you’re looking at those exact characters from where you lay on your bed when a knock sounds on your door several days later

lady shin steps into your room with a warm smile as you greet her

“you have an appointment with lord min tomorrow, but the king has just inquired about your service availability for tomorrow,” she informs you. “would you like me to give him the usual answer?”

this isn’t the first time a clash has occurred, particularly with the increasing frequency with which hongjoong requests to see you

you have always told lady shin to ask for hongjoong’s pardon and to offer him an alternative time or day, because in the end, you still need to maintain a professional and admirable reputation as a flower courtesan

and as you open your mouth to tell her ‘yes’, your eye catches the scroll hanging on your wall

my flower

you hesitate

“actually,” you look away from the hanja, “i’ll see hongjoong.”

lady shin gives you a motherly smile as she nods in understanding and closes the door behind her

the next day you see him, he excitedly points out the large tambour frame in his room that he bought just a few days prior, claiming you two can work on a big embroidery patch together now

you give him one look then demote him back to the small embroidery hoop because he still hasn’t learnt his basic stitches yet

(that’ll teach him to not pay attention when you’re demonstrating, ha)

you relent and end up going through the different stitches with him again anyway

and you find that he’s actually not that bad with embroidery once he’s actually focused on the task at hand

it’s nice, basking in each other's presence while he threads his little square of fabric and you work with the large frame you have now essentially claimed as yours

not that hongjoong minds; he did buy it solely to make you happy

and then you offhandedly mention that someone had gifted you a handkerchief with your initials embroidered on one of the corners the other day

“i actually have it on me, in fact,” and you take it out from where it’s tucked into your waist so that you can show him

he juts out his chin as he peers down at the delicate letters, huffing, “it’s pretty, i guess”

then as an afterthought he tacks on, “bet i could do a better job”

“are you jealous right now, kim hongjoong?”

said man is hellbent on avoiding your eyes as he picks up his needle and thread again

“no i’m not!”

“whatever you say,” you smirk

after that day though, you don’t receive another request from hongjoong to meet until two weeks later

which, in the grand scheme of things, really isn’t much

but in comparison to the frequency at which you are used to seeing him, the frequency at which your body is used to having him, it is much too long

you are almost beginning to wonder whether you shouldn’t have brought up the handkerchief gift

yet, he greets you with his usual teasing squeeze of your waist, dangerously close to your ass

you make a move to follow him through the doors to his chambers but he turns around to produce a silk cloth

he starts to blindfold you, whispering sultrily, “i have a surprise for you”

you feel the hairs on the back of your neck raise at his tone

guiding you inside, hongjoong gently pushes you down so that you sink into the plush duvet of his bed

“do you trust me?” he whispers

trying not to dwell on the urge to lick your dry lips, you answer, “of course”

you feel him tugging slowly on the string that holds the front of your corset together, loosening your dress with tenderness like you are a fragile gift

you shiver when your shoulders are suddenly exposed to the cold air

and then the sensation is followed by the warmth of hongjoong’s soft exhales along the expanse of your collarbones as he leans closer to fully disrobe your shoulders

you have to remind yourself to keep breathing

“you can look now,” he tells you

you remove the silk cloth from around your eyes, unsure of what to expect

it takes a few blinks to readjust your vision to the room around you but then your eyes finally focus

and you gasp

there, hung on the wall with its striking viridian green, shimmering threads and intricate swirls on glorious display, is quite possibly the most stunning dress you have ever laid eyes upon

“try it on,” he encourages

but as you step closer, you realise the lacing across the front of the corset and running down the sleeves of the top dress is in fact, not lacing

it’s patchy

it’s uneven

it has empty areas

but it is no doubt embroidery

“did you…did you make this?” you reach out a hand to lightly caress one of the embroidered flowers, not quite daring to believe that hongjoong would go to these lengths for you

“of course,” he wraps his arms around you from behind and presses a light kiss against your temple, “i’m not losing to a lousy handkerchief”

“is that why you disappeared for two weeks?”

you let out a laugh, sinking into his embrace, because the image of the great king holed up in his chambers for days on end, hunched over your dress with a needle, thread and frown on his face is just too endearing

he lets out a warning huff as he turns you around in his embrace to face him

upturning his hands, he shows you the tips of his fingers and grumbles, “i poked myself so many times for you and you laugh at me?”

you bring his hands closer to your face, pressing light kisses to his fingertips as you smile, “thank you, joong. i love it so much, i really do”

he looks at you impossibly soft

under his tender gaze, something suddenly rushes to your very core

you hold one his hands steady in front of your lips then swirl your tongue out in an experimental lick over his fingers

it’s almost captivating how quickly his pupils dilate and zero in on your tongue

so you dare to bring his fingers into your mouth

you suck on them a little harder

a little deeper

and then you moan around his fingers, “i want you”

he lets out a groan himself, feeling the front of his breeches tighten as his cock twitches

“i- fuck, i didn’t give the dress to you in hopes that it would lead to this,” yet despite his words he is stepping you backwards so that he can pin you against the wall

“i know, but i want you,” you palm his growing bulge, your knees going weak at how hard he already is. “and i need you. now.”

he doesn’t need further encouragement

he shoves the remainder of your clothes aside before inserting his fingers roughly between your folds

it doesn’t take long for him to bring you to your first orgasm, curling his fingers relentlessly as you ride them

he spreads your cum over your pussy and you buck your hips with a whine when he circles over your clit briefly

then he’s turning you around and bending you over, one of your hands bracing against the wall, your other arm held behind your back by hongjoong’s firm grasp

“fuck, you’re so wet,” his whole body shivers with pleasure as his cock slips right into you

the obscene sounds of his hips slapping against your ass and your slick being pushed back into your hole over and over again fill the room

and to the clenching of your pussy from another orgasm, hongjoong also cums into you with a guttural groan of your name

he gently carries you to his bed and lays you on top of the covers

he leaves your side for a moment and you listen to him rummage through something while you try to regain control of your quaking legs

when he comes back, you feel him gently spreading your legs and then the ticklish sensation of a soft cloth along your inner thighs

a whine escapes your lips when he rubs over your sensitive clit and hongjoong grips your thigh a little tighter

“be careful what pretty sounds you’re making if you can’t handle another round”

it isn’t until he finishes cleaning you up and lies down next to you to start wiping himself down that you look over and realise what it is that he’s been using this whole time

your mouth drops in disbelief

when hongjoong notices your expression, he smirks, “the man who gave you this has no idea his handkerchief is being used to clean my cum off your thighs”

“hongjoong!” you flush with a laugh. “you are definitely jealous, aren’t you?”

“yes, i’m fucking jealous,” he growls, “you’re the only one i want. you’re the only woman i’ve been requesting for since i’ve seen you. and i want to be the only one who gets to have you, too”

you confess, “well, you can have all of me. because i’ve started refusing other people just for you”

he looks at you for another moment before he’s suddenly straddling your hips

“change of plans,” he says breathily, “i need you again”

“very good plan,” you grind up against him

and then you pause, mirth starting to bubble in your throat, “one last thing though”

hongjoong looks down with amusement in his own eyes, wondering what could possibly be so funny

“that handkerchief?” you start, struggling not to laugh when his eyes immediately narrow, “i never said it was from a man. it was a gift from lady chae”

seonghwa

pov: you're his royal guard

as soon as you notice the movement out of the corner of your eye, your body reacts straight away

you murmur seonghwa’s name with a tight voice and move to position yourself in front of him, unwilling to risk the prince’s safety

one of your hands grasps the hilt of your sword, ready to unsheathe it at the first sign of danger, as your calculative gaze darts between the two young men stumbling closer on the dirt path and the line of forest trees from which they appear

they are wearing simple tunics and breeches with their colour faded and seams loosening from wear

from what you can discern, they are simply commoners, but that does not rule out the possibility that they are bandits

seonghwa seems to think otherwise, though

unsurprising but still grating

the prince places his hand on your shoulder gently in a silent reassurance and request for you to step aside

albeit reluctantly, you force yourself to move to his left

it becomes clear to you as the two figures stop just shy of a few feet away that the term ‘men’ was pushing it - their faces are young and they appear to be no older than seventeen or eighteen

the young strangers dip their head in greeting, one of them apologising as well as he pulls out a tattered map that he extends out for you two to see

“my companion and i are traveling to the village norshaw but seem to have lost our way. would you be able to point us in the right direction?” the one with the map asks

“of course,” seonghwa offers with a kind smile

you watch as the three of them step closer together to look more closely at the map

on high alert, and just as you are predicting, you see the companion shuffle closer to seonghwa, hand inching towards the leather pouch that hangs from the prince’s belt

you catch the subtle motion of seonghwa’s eyes flickering down just an inch

because of how well you understand his body language, you know that it means he has already noticed the thieving intention

but because of how well you understand seonghwa, you know that he isn’t going to do anything about it either

so you strike in his stead

your hand darts out to snatch the thieve’s wrist, twisting his forearm upwards so that he is forced to lean awkwardly towards one side to prevent his elbow from snapping

his partner drops the map, letting out a string of curses and hesitating for all but three seconds before he turns around to flee

scoffing, you threaten the one who is still in your hold, who then bolts with his tail between his legs after you release him

"did you really need to scare them off like that? it's not like i had any money in the pouch anyway," seonghwa chastises with a chuckle

"yes," you deadpan. "i did not spend the last two hours of our trip pausing every fifty meters to wait for you to pick up a rock because you thought it looked pretty, only for them to be stolen by a pair of petty thieves"

"it would have been funny to imagine their faces after realising what they stole," seonghwa grins

“mhm,” you hum, “and the next thing you know, you’ll wake up to your palace ransacked, because word in town is that you can steal from the prince and get away with it”

he levels you with a boyish scowl, “you’re so dramatic. what are you, my mother?”

“no, but i am your royal bodyguard”

“exactly. you are my bodyguard, not my brainguard. if i am to be swindled of my pretty rocks, then so be it”

you roll your eyes out of exasperation, but everything is swiftly forgotten minutes later when you point out a heart-shaped rock and seonghwa rushes over to pick it up

it has been like this ever since the incident occurred - him, the sunshine; you, the sunshine protector

it has been almost four years since it happened

somebody had attempted arsenic poisoning of not only seonghwa, but also those working under him

you had noticed strange discolouring of the silverware in the kitchen and on the table serving his dinner, which prompted an investigation and subsequent discovery of the perpetrator

an act of betrayal and treachery by one of his closest relatives - his very own uncle

seonghwa was - still is - too merciful and tender-hearted to punish his uncle, even if the severity of his uncle’s crimes warranted execution

to have his trust broken so shatteringly hurt seonghwa more than if he were to actually have been poisoned

you still remember like it was yesterday; the sight of the prince slumped against the wall, weighed down by chains of turmoil and despair as whispers fly through the palace of the weak-hearted prince who is unable to deliver fair judgement

it is the sight of the prince looking so small and lost that drives your feet forward to stand before him

as the soft draught coming through the windows tugs gently on your tresses and the flickers of candlelight illuminate the glint of steel in your hand, you make a decision

“i’ll be your sword,” you pledge

not just as his royal guard, but as his haven when he is forced to face corruption and wickedness

and when you see the way his shoulders immediately sag with relief at your declaration, the way he nods like a child who has been reassured that everything will be okay, you tell yourself that seonghwa will never have to dirty his hands as long as you are with him

you will be the dark to his light; the yin to his yang

quietly, you see to it that his uncle is executed for his crimes - your statement to the rest of the palace that prince seonghwa is not to be mocked

neither of you bring it up again, but seonghwa knows

he pulls you into a wholehearted hug, arms enveloping you securely as his chest shakes with shuddering breaths of thank you over and over again

you rub your hand up and down his sturdy back soothingly

it is an action that simultaneously reciprocates his embrace and his crossed line of professionalism

one that starts the shift in dynamic between you both, boundaries of sought comfort blurring with friendship and then something more

where seonghwa is too trusting and too soft-spoken, you become his skepticism and his voice

“you should be more wary of others,” you always remind him

“and you should be more trusty of others,” he’ll retort

yet, he will never make a decision that does not receive your input nor one that you do not agree with

where seonghwa is too gentle and too humble, you become his sword and his shield

you do not waver when you strike down foe, and friends turned foe alike

you speak up and establish firm boundaries when others take advantage of the respect he shows everybody regardless of their class or status

and yet, if you find yourself on the receiving end of someone’s condescension or discriminatory treatment, be it due to your rank as a guard or identity as a woman, seonghwa will be advancing forward to defend you before you can do so yourself

where seonghwa is too innocent and too bushy-tailed, you become his eyes and his caution

your morning walks together always last for longer than they are scheduled for

he stops to watch every butterfly and bumblebee that flutters along the flowery path, and he waits for caterpillars to crawl onto a leaf that he holds by the stem so that he can move the critters off the pathway

you love to watch him and his glittering eyes, his cheeks rosy from happiness and from the air still crisp with morning dew

but you also make sure to watch his surroundings with greater vigilance because the quiet peace that the freshly awoken sun brings simultaneously increases the likelihood of a targeted attack against him

as much as you rib him for being a marshmallow personified, however, and as much as he banters back that you are more than welcome to resign at any time, neither of you want it any other way

seonghwa carries out a lot of gestures that he justifies to himself as being eternally grateful for you and the things you do for him

he likes to gift you flowers he has plucked from his garden or the bushes he walks past that remind him of you

(“that’s actually just a very pretty-looking weed, but thank you, seonghwa,” you tell him on more than one occasion)

(it’s adorable, because the next time he finds a flower, he goes to the length of certifying that it is indeed a flower with the merchant who sells bouquets in the nearby town before presenting it to you, eyes gleaming with pride)

you stand still and let him tuck a flower behind your ear, sometimes braiding your hair gently so that he can weave and secure the stem into your hair, holding your breath as his features fill with the same enrapturement that he would admire a beautiful artwork with

after you voice this out one day, seonghwa supposes to himself that there is not much difference between an artwork and you

not that he’s attracted to you or anything - you just…have an objectively attractive face

yes.

especially when your usually-piercing expression is softened by fatigue, guard no longer up as you sleep slumped over a desk while accompanying him during his late night of studies

he does not realise his feet have moved until he is right beside your resting form, as if the soft exhales escaping from your slightly parted lips are a siren’s song

seonghwa tenderly brushes your stray locks away from your face and behind your neck

except he forgets to account for the fact that you are trained to sleep on the brink of consciousness

the squeal that leaves his mouth when your reflexes kick in and you almost slit his throat resounds at a frequency so high you almost believe it comes from your own mouth

you have a grand time watching his beet red face stutter out an excuse as to what exactly he was doing so close to you

needless to say, that is the last time seonghwa ever tries to do anything while you are sleeping

but as much as he bumbles around, he also reveals his perceptiveness when you least expect it

like now, as you accompany the prince to one of his meetings with numerous advisors and ministers

it is relatively dull and uneventful, mostly a cordial appearance to maintain amicable and loyal relationships with his subjects

conversation is limited to pleasantries and at one point, seonghwa even points out the calligraphy paintings hung at the back of the room

everyone nods with throaty laughs as if the paintings are indeed the most exquisite and tasteful artworks they have ever laid their eyes upon

when you and seonghwa arrive back at his chambers following the conclusion of the meeting, he walks over to his bed and shakes the sleeves of his robe over the expanse of his duvet

and out drops a neatly-wrapped sweet, followed by another, then another, until there are enough to amount to two handfuls

baffled, you look at seonghwa, because these are the very same treats that had been plated on the tables during the meeting

“you smuggled candy out of the room?” you try to keep the amusement out of your voice

he peers into his sleeves to ensure there are no more stragglers, before turning to face you as he waves his hands over the small collection of goods on his bed

as if they are-

“for you!” he exclaims almost proudly. “i saw you eyeing them during the meeting so i took some for you”

okay

most definitely proudly 

you feel something tickling you from within, as if he has reached through your chest to directly caress your heart with a delicate finger

“when did you even…” your voice trails off when it comes out a little fonder than you are expecting it to

“remember the paintings i pointed out?” seonghwa giggles, and you think that the hand in your chest is now cradling your heart completely. “i swiped the sweets when everyone was looking back at them”

“thank you, hwa,” you settle on saying, because you do not trust yourself to say anything else

that is more than enough for him, though

which, of course it is - this is seonghwa, with his huge heart that fills easily with the smallest of things

he eagerly hands you one of the treats and you unwrap it to place into your mouth

you’ve had these before, but this one that he has specially grabbed for you tastes remarkably sweeter

you wonder if his lips will taste the same…

but then you accidentally bite your tongue, hard enough to draw blood, and you realise just how wrong you are for letting those fleeting thoughts into your mind

because while you navigate the world in thick droplets of red and sharp glints of silver, seonghwa sees the world in soft hues of pastel and gleaming rays of yellow

how could the two palettes ever blend together harmoniously?

so instead, you grant yourself one last moment of selfishness and pull him into a hug, a gesture that toes the already shaky borders of professionalism yet can still be excused under the guise of friendship

you realise that he has always meant much more to you, but that is what this will stay as - a mere realisation

seonghwa wraps his arms around your form as he relaxes into the way your bodies naturally meld together

it’s strange how easily you slot into his life, his thoughts, his heart

he wonders whether it’s possible for feelings of appreciation to run so deeply and potently within somebody, like a drug that he cannot get enough of

and when you take a step away from him, leaving his chest feeling physically and emotionally empty, he wonders if he is perhaps…

in love with you

following that incident, it is almost as if a switch flips - both of you take several steps away from the line that has been danced around

but neither of you notice the distance because you are both consumed by your own thoughts

until one of your usual morning walks around the castle walls of his palace

seonghwa is wondering whether the bushes you walk past remind you of the flowers he used to gift you and you are debating whether to reach out to brush a petal out of his half ponytail 

then, like deja vu, your eyes flicker towards the burst of movement as a figure covered in black comes darting forwards with their blade raised intended for murder

you immediately start to unsheathe your sword, feet poised and prepared to defend-

until you are harshly tugged back and the prince steps in front of you to parry the strike that the assassin tries to land

it takes your lifetime of training and experience to snap back into focus and thrust your sword into the enemy’s exposed side

when you are sure he is dead, you whirl around to descend upon seonghwa with a voice trembling from both anger and relief

“what in the world were you thinking?” you yell

“i-”

taking a step forward, you toss your sword to one side, “no, actually. you weren’t thinking at all”

“i was afraid that you would get hurt!” he takes his own step closer

“that is my duty!” the volume of your voice raises even more. “i am willing to lay down my life to ensure your safety! i have been guarding you for years now and you have never acted this way. what has changed?”

for a moment, the only sound that punctuates the silence is your harsh breathing

seonghwa swallows

“my feelings…” he whispers, a stark contrast to the peak of emotions you have been riding. “my feelings for you have changed”

your throat tightens at his words

it is your turn to whisper, a noise of confusion leaving your lips

he takes another step closer, bringing himself to stand right in front of you as he looks down earnestly into your eyes

“i’d rather be the protector, and you be the protected”

“but…why?” your heart races with anticipation

“because i’m in love with you” 

right at the invisible border that has been separating you two for as long as you have been his guard, seonghwa now stands, hands wringing together as he awaits a response

“then that makes the two of us,” you confess

you step forward to take your familiar spot on the other side of the line, except this time you do not stop

you stride over the boundary completely to stand by his side

raising yourself onto your tiptoes, you pull him down slightly by the front of his doublet so that you can press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips

it stretches wider and curves upwards under the nurturing of your own smile

you can’t help but give him another kiss on the other side of his mouth to match the one you just gave him

“from now on,” seonghwa starts, “i’ll be your sword”

you wouldn’t really, and you will fight him to let you continue being his guard, but that doesn’t stop one last teasing question from escaping you

“does this mean i get to retire?”

yunho

pov: you're part of a rebel group

the crown prince is not in his fucking library

for the past three weeks, the crown prince has always been in the royal library at night

until today

under normal circumstances, his royal guards and staff would be alerted to ensure that the deviance in routine is a conscious decision and not an issue of the crown prince missing

except doing that would make your job significantly harder…

considering you have been ordered to assassinate him.

you’re part of the ‘red sun’, a revolutionary movement aiming to overthrow the current monarch

following the debilitating state of the king after falling ill and the subsequent coronation of queen jeong into power, she has since then established numerous royal decrees to keep everyone under her reign on a tight leash

a leash made of barbed wire

people are quick to become resentful and thirsty for an end to the dictatorship and bloodline

although he has made limited public appearances, the crown prince has also developed a reputation rivaling the queen’s

within the second year of the jeong dynasty, red sun has already amassed a multitude of supporters

the focus is currently on growing in numbers, preparing for an imminent revolution and picking off corrupt royals and noblists, be it through incrimination or assassination

dealing with those in positions of higher power is a task only completed by an elite selection of red sun rebels who have distinguished skills and traits that set them apart from peasants and commoners

and you are amongst the elite team

which is why you find yourself staking out on the tiled roof of the imperial palace, clothed in black with a mask and hooded cowl covering your face that blends you in with the darkness of night, on the orders of a higher-up to assassinate the crown prince

except the target is missing; the information you were given is wrong

which never happens

you can’t risk staying around for much longer, especially now that the crown prince has broken his routine

he could be anywhere and so could his royal guards

you shift your body to a crouch and place your hands on the cool tiles beneath you, ready to leave

only to spot a figure, crouched just like you are, on the opposite side of the roof

their face is a black hole of nothing within the shrouded confines of their hood, but you can feel their gaze piercing into you all the same

you run

you scramble to the edge of the roof and nimbly leap off the curved eaves to the neighbouring structure of the study room

when you glance backwards, you see the man - physique now obvious - is keeping up easily along the stepping stones of roofs

this game of cat and mouse isn’t going to work for long

if you don’t get caught by him first, you’re both going to get caught by the palace guards

so you make a split decision and alter your next trajectory lower

keeping your arms outstretched for the eaves, you grab on tightly when your fingers touch the edge of the roof and use your core to kick your legs up to stop your body from slamming into the wall from the momentum of your jump

you let go and drop to the ground like a feline, noiseless, and slink towards a line of trees

then you wait

he’s good, you note to yourself, when the only sound that alerts you to his presence is the quick scuffle of his feet as he softens his impact against the wall and the muted thud of his body landing on the ground

“state your purpose,” he demands, voice low yet firm

you ignore him to ask, “who are you?”

now up close, you can see that the man is wearing attire almost the same as you are, identity also hidden by the his bandana and hood-

wait

even the dark red stitching that subtly replaces the original seam on the right shoulder of his outer clothing is the same

the same as those on the elite team

“one of you,” he confirms your suspicions

except you don’t recognise his voice nor his build

being one of the earliest members of the rebel organisation, you are familiar with all the members who carry out missions like yours

he is not one of them; not one you can trust yet

when you don’t speak, he adds on, “we need to go. the safehouse might be in danger”

we

he refers to the two of you so easily, as if you and him are an unspoken team

you cannot trust this man until you know for sure he is part of red sun, so you ask him

“when is red most beautiful?”

it is a vague question with a fixed answer

one that reflects the heart of the revolutionary itself

during the sunrise of a new beginning 

“during the sunrise of a new beginning,” the man says resolutely

the tension releases from your shoulders 

“okay,” you opt to abandon your original mission. “let’s check on the safehouse”

the man offers you a hand to hike yourself up onto one of the outer walls of the palace before he jumps up himself with ease

you both flip over the top and land in unison

the moon illuminates the ground beneath your feet as you both sprint into the surrounding forest

the safehouse is really just a small hut situated far enough from the palace to stay inconspicuous, yet not close enough to the outer borders of the kingdom to risk discovery by the frequent border patrols

you both slow down as you approach the clearing, steadying your breaths and treading with cautious steps

and then you hear it

the shattering clang of a desperate parry

all it takes is a quick glance at the man by your side before your eyes harden with purpose and your steps are dashing in unison towards the hut

you’re both hit with the smell of a metallic tang in the air, and it’s not from your drawn swords

bursting through the door, you quickly take in the scene before you

several red sun members are scattered around the hut and slumped in varying degrees of injury

it’s easy to spot the intruder; they’re yanking their sword out of a body’s torso as they simultaneously turn to look at you

and it’s hard to miss the royal insignia of the jeong monarch on their chest plate

you have the element of surprise

but only for the next few seconds

you leap forward with the thud of footsteps of your partner following almost immediately, side-stepping once you close the distance to dodge a haphazard swing

there’s a brief break in defense when the enemy tries to aim for another strike that leaves the gap in the side of their armour exposed

you feel the slight resistance of your sword entering flesh as you thrust it forward into them

except when you try to tug it back out, a hand grasps your own and the hilt of your sword, stopping you from stepping away

the enemy has realised they are not going to make it out of this alive

but if they are to die, then they are going to take one last person with them

you.

you see glint of metal as they use their other hand to swing their sword down onto you, only for it to be deflected at the last second by another sword

the man you have met for barely an hour is now at your side with his towering protectiveness

in one smooth kick, his long leg sends the other careening into the wall of the hut with a mighty slam

you feel yourself jerking forward from the enemy’s grasp still on your hand

but the man next to you quickly tucks you into his side before you are also sent sprawling

“check on the others,” he briefly says, and then he is striding towards the fallen intruder

you only spare him another quick glance and then you rush to the nearest figure on the ground

you go around checking for pulses, and for those who are still breathing, the extent of their injuries

there are several casualties but nowhere near as many if you and the man had not come to check on the safehouse

which suddenly makes you pause in your tracks

how did he know about the attack in the first place?

you stretch your legs from their squatted position next to one of the red sun members and turn around to confront him

except…the man has disappeared

and so has the intruder’s body

days later, the question of whether you will chance upon the man again tonight flits through your mind when you find yourself perched in the very same spot on the tiled roof of the palace that gives you a clear view of the royal library

you have received another order to assassinate the crown prince as soon as you see the opportunity arise

this time, the note is accompanied by a cyanide capsule, a non-verbal message that this mission is to occur with your life on the line

you spot him

he’s preoccupied by the scroll in his hand as he makes his way through the shelves of parchments

you wait until he’s walked far enough into the library before you drop down from the roof, keeping your stance low to ensure you stay hidden as you silently move closer

you take out the jagged dagger from its sheath by your waist as you anticipate it will be too difficult to wield your long sword in the narrow aisles

and there the crown prince stands

he has his back to you, exposing him to your mercy

mercy that you have no intention of showing him

the cruel heir to the throne of an even crueler dictatorship deserves none

“it’s you again, isn’t it?”

you freeze

the crown prince still has not turned around to address you, but you can feel the dark gaze of his eyes on you as if he were looking at you

“you were here a few days ago”

fuck

how he knows you have no idea

what you do know though is that you have about two seconds to make a move before you lose this chance to assassinate him completely, and quite possibly, lose your life as well

the pill you have hidden in the breast of your tunic feels heavy

“you are part of red sun, are you not?”

this time the crown prince does turn around to face you, but it isn’t the nonchalance with which he reveals your identity that makes your head reel

it is the warmth and softness in his gaze and the hint of a smile on his face that does

what the actual fuck

you’re convinced that the crown prince is not only heinous, but also batshit crazy

“i am,” you spit out at him, “with orders to assassinate you, in fact”

his mouth thins into a tight line, “the orders you have received are false”

“sounds exactly like something a crown prince would say to avoid being assassinated,” you scoff

but then his next words change everything

“red is most beautiful during the sunrise of a new beginning”

before you have time to fathom the bomb that has just been dropped, your heads swivel simultaneously towards the entrance of the royal library when a voice calls out for the crown prince

“hide,” he hisses urgently

and then he’s stepping further away to conceal your presence as best as possible

you hear the shuffle of footsteps approaching before they stop, dangerously close to where you’re crouched behind a bookshelf

“apologies for interrupting your time, crown prince,” they say

from where you are you can see the crown prince’s expression clear as he lets out a small huff, “i have told you many times to just call me yunho”

“of course, crown prince yunho”

even though you can’t see the other person’s expression, you can hear the amusement in their voice

they continue, “i have the information you have requested for”

“thank you,” you see him - yunho - receive a small scroll. “the queen does not know?”

“no, i made sure to be as discreet as possible”

yunho thanks the other once again and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when he bows his head in appreciation as he dismisses them

is this the same crown prince as the rumours?

and what is he doing behind his mother’s back?

you don’t realise you’ve been staring dumbly at him until he’s back in front of you with amusement on his face

he stands tall and proud, robes accentuating his stature and nobility

“who exactly are you,” you dare to ask

your voice is small - you feel small, crouched at his feet like a stark physical representation of the power he holds over you

but then he takes yet another step closer and kneels down so that your eyes meet at the same level

“i am the leader of red sun. the creator of the whole revolution”

your ankles actually do give out at that and you have to seat yourself on the floor

because how is any of this possible?

you must have voiced your thoughts out loud, because before you know it, yunho is crossing his legs and making himself comfortable on the floor right in front of you

it makes you feel so strange

the crown prince’s willingness to make himself an equal before you - and even to his staff from earlier

yunho starts to explain

a change in monarch, particularly one of such dictatorship, requires massive momentum and synergy; something he cannot produce alone nor without the support of the people

thus, red sun came into existence for the exact same reason you and all the other supporters have joined

in hopes of a sunrise one day that marks a new beginning

a new leadership

except recently he has had growing suspicious of the presence of a traitor within the organisation, which were confirmed the night the safehouse was attacked

“that night…that man was you,” you realise, “and that’s how you know who i am”

he nods, “and that’s also how i know your orders are false.” yunho nudges you playfully with his knee, “pretty sure i never ordered for my own assassination”

yunho continues to explain that he had taken the intruder back for interrogation, but then you frown when he reveals the enemy had swallowed a suicide pill before any information could be gained

he has an inkling that someone in a high position of power is involved, since the pills are almost impossible to gain access to, but it cannot be ruled out as a coincidence

“hang on,” you pull down the top of your tunic in a hurry

yunho scrambles to cover his eyes and turns his head as he jokingly sputters out, “woah okay, this is moving a little fast don’t you think?”

you tug impatiently on the sleeve of his robe, telling him to look

yunho hesitates for another second before lowering his hands and realising you have-

“a suicide pill?” 

you look at each other, because this can only mean one thing

the pills are not a coincidence; the enemy is much closer than yunho would like

you’re both unsure how much time there is until the traitor decides to order someone else to assassinate yunho, or worse, decides to finish the job off themselves

but from that very night of discovery, you and yunho work together incessantly against a ticking time bomb

it’s a delicate balance between finding as many leads as you can and spreading out your investigations to stay under the radar

yunho tries to look further into the cyanide pills while you try to uncover any information regarding the order you had been given

whoever is behind it all has kept their tracks hidden well

there isn’t much to report from either of your ends whenever you sneak into the palace to meet up with yunho

but he makes it very hard for you to feel discouraged when he makes your meetings seem like casual catch ups between - you dare say - friends

you have yet to catch him by surprise whenever you drop down from the roof in front of him in an attempt to scare him; he has an uncanny ability to sense your presence

except, you think you prefer being unsuccessful, because your indignant grumbles never fail to bring out his toothy grin and an excited body jiggle

other times he is the one trying to fluster you

“remember that time you literally tried undressing yourself in front of me-”

“i was taking the pill out to show you!” 

you bring your thumb and index finger closer together in front of your face and squint at the gap

“i am this close to changing my mind and assassinating you after all”

he gets a kick out of it, pretending to beg for your mercy, “oh please spare me, your majesty”

other times, yunho teases you for always keeping your cowl and mask on

“bet it’s because you’re ugly or something,” he jokes

and you bite back that he had his face covered too when you both met, so you’re one to talk, ugly

“but since then i’ve always shown you my face as the crown prince. you can see me nice and clear,” he suddenly leans forward, so close you can see the dip of his cupid’s brow. “what do you think about me now?”

you swallow hard

you’re glad you have your mask on because you can feel your face rapidly heating up

“i think…” you gently cup his jaw, “you look better with your mask on,” as you nudge his face to the side

you cannot help but join in with your own chuckles at his laughter and boyish glee

and eventually, you two have a breakthrough

yunho manages to trace the cyanide back to a traveling merchant operating under the guise of selling rare herbs and medicine

in the transaction ledger, there is an unusually large purchase under the name of ‘lee minjun’

“i’m sure i’ve seen the name before somewhere, but i can’t remember where,” yunho huffs

you let out your own huff at his elbow that has very naturally taken a rest on your shoulder

pulling out a stack of paper, you spread it out onto the table before you two

they are past records of certain red sun missions that, upon looking back, seem suspicious

“i noticed a mark on a couple of them, a drawing or character perhaps? except none of them are fully intact. it’s almost like the paper was accidentally marked”

you point them out to yunho in hopes that he will have a better idea

he doesn’t - not at first

not until he chances upon two that vaguely align with each other to form a clearer image

“this-” yunho runs his hand through his hair, “this is butler lee’s stamp. my father’s butler.”

the king’s butler?

lee?

your eyes snap to yunho’s, just as his meet yours

“lee minjun”

you sink back in your seat

there’s now definite proof that the king’s butler is at the very least involved

the question of why and what for remains

in fact, you and yunho would not put it past the queen either to be involved too

there is a long moment of shared silence as you both mull over what this means for the future

yunho breaks the silence first

“after this all ends…do you want to work for me, officially?” he clears his throat, “will you stay by my side?”

after this all ends

you two must still uncover butler lee’s motives; likely part of a much grander scheme involving queen jeong too

you two must still bring down the whole monarch; with the support of red sun, yunho needs to sit on his rightful throne

the sun has yet to rise but you can see the faint hues of orange and twilight blue in the horizon

the new beginning is close

and at that, something in you relaxes

crumbles and disintegrates with utter relief

“it would be my honour to stay by your side forever, yunho”

and then you are removing your hood and mask, daring to breathe and feel alive and hopeful for once

ironically, yunho chokes on air

you glance at him to find that he is unable to meet your eyes

you think your eyes are deceiving you because-

the tips of his ears are a glowing red

you could definitely get used to seeing the usually calm and collected crown prince become a shy, blushing mess

the corner of your mouth rises with smugness, “like what you see?”

“you should really keep your hood and mask on,” he mumbles

“and why is that?” you humour him

he finally looks at you

and when he sees the shit-eating grin plastered across your face, his shoulders suddenly fill out again with confidence and cockiness to match yours

“because,” his voice deep and flirtatious, “with a pretty face like that, you’re going to distract me from my duties”

yeosang

pov: you're in an arranged marriage with him

ever since you could understand the words coming out of your parents’ mouths, you have known that you will be married to yeosang

it just made sense

for the respective princess and prince of two powerful kingdoms to join together, leading to increased power and stronger allies

it is tradition for the pair to meet their chosen spouse for the first time only when both parties have turned sixteen, and even then, subsequent meetings are rare until the time of the actual wedding

so you spend the first sixteen years of your life infatuated with the idea of your prince charming - of prince yeosang - wondering what he looks like, what his personality is like, and how you two will fall in love

and when you finally reach that long-awaited first meeting, prince charming is everything and more than what you have envisioned

if angels with broken wings were exiled to earth, they would look like yeosang

he is soft-spoken and slightly reserved, as any awkward teenager meeting their future spouse would be, but you don’t miss the way that his eyes overflow with adoration and his shoulders shake with exuberant giggles whenever his little sister, yeoreum, comes tottering into the room

he always bends down onto one knee to match her eye level, uncaring of the stains that mark his pants even as his mother narrows her eyes in disdain, and he listens with utmost sincerity when yeoreum tells him about the secret pink and glittery fairy she spotted in the courtyard 

they remind you of the relationship you share with your own little brother, juwon, who is barely half your age and height, yet has you wrapped around his little finger

you lean down closer with a hum at the soft tug on your dress to hear your little brother whisper conspiratorially into your ear, “he looks stupid”

if looks could kill, yeosang would be dead right now

you stifle a laugh as you flick juwon’s chin affectionately at his sudden display of childish jealousy

if anything, you’re pretty sure you are the one who looks stupid

stupidly in love

because walking away from that first meeting with yeosang and his family, you know that you are absolutely smitten for the prince

unable to quell the restlessness of having to wait until the next unforeseeable meeting, you pick up a quill that very same day you return to your palace and start writing

it takes you all night, the gentle gleams and winks of the stars keeping you company until they rotate shifts with the songs of the waking world

but by the time you have crossed out and scrunched your way through rolls and rolls of parchment paper, you are satisfied with the letter you have written

the letter addressed to prince yeosang, which you task eunju, one of your maids, with passing it to the royal couriers for delivery to the kang palace

it is a simple letter, thanking him for the enjoyable day, yet it holds the deeper message that you are interested in him and would like to become better acquainted before your marriage

you wonder whether his cheeks will flush a pretty red as his butler hands him your letter

whether he will trace his fingers delicately over the curve of your words

whether he will bite back a smile as he pictures you saying the words to him

two weeks pass, and you approximate the letter to have just been delivered to his kingdom

and although you desperately wish for him to immediately sit down with a quill in hand to pen out his reply, you wait and give him a week before you eagerly start counting down the days until the arrival of his letter

your whole life you have been able to wait patiently

you wonder what has changed now that mere weeks feel like an eternity

the day yeosang’s letter is due to arrive, you are sporadic bursts of giggles, twirls and skips throughout the palace

even juwon is starting to become sick of getting swept up into a crushing hug to the cheery tune of i loveee youuuu every single time you pass him

nothing can bring you down from cloud nine

only…the letter never comes

not the day after, not the week after, not the month after

you’re disappointed, of course, but you busy yourself with reasons why yeosang has not replied, and you don’t give up

you send him another letter, and then another, and another

sometimes you just tell him about your day - what made you smile, what made you sad, something interesting you saw, something your little brother said

other times you tell him about yourself - your hobbies, likes and dislikes, aspirations, fears 

and you also wonder about him

you ask what he likes, what he smiles at, what makes him sad, what his dreams are

with each letter that you hand over to eunju to be delivered, it becomes harder and harder to stay optimistic - not even the words of encouragement from your favourite maid lifts your spirits

you continue like this for over a year, still yet to receive a reply 

until-

you do.

it feels like you are brought back to that very night of your first meeting, feeling so very alive as hope and excitement cascade into your body the moment eunju hands you a letter with a smile

with shaking hands, you fumble to unpeel the wax seal and free the envelope’s contents - a single piece of paper, neatly folded

your mind races with anticipated words and explanations

perhaps he had been too shy to reciprocate your letters earlier

or perhaps your letters had been lost in transit

you unfold the parchment as the hairs on your skin raise in anticipation, only to find it blank save for one scrawled sentence in the middle of the paper-

stop sending me letters.

and just like that, the clock strikes twelve

your carriage reverts into a pumpkin

and your carefully curated story of prince charming disintegrates into ashes

you don’t write to him again.

years later, the stacks of parchment scrolls on the wooden desk of the guest room you are currently residing in feel like a fresh slap in the face each time your eyes land on them

they are a stark reminder of your very own letters, the cold rejection you received, and the irony of the only letter you ever received again following his being one from the kang monarchs, announcing the proceeding of the royal wedding between you and their son

now, only a few days newly-wed to yeosang, the king and queen are gracious enough to let you sleep in one of the guest rooms temporarily, under your claims of adjusting to a life in a new kingdom and as a wife

really, you are trying to avoid yeosang for as long as you can

you spend your time instead getting to know his little sister better, which is why you find yourself sitting side by side with yeoreum, legs dangling off the edge of your bed

she eyes the vase of flowers on your bedside table curiously, “did you buy that?”

“no,” you reach out to touch the baby’s breath, “someone delivered it to my room”

you had offhandedly mentioned to some of your staff the other day that flowers would make your room look more homey, and you had woken up the morning after to find the beautiful vase teeming with flowers next to you

“why?” you ask yeoreum when she hums thoughtfully

“it looks just like the vase in my brother’s room, but he’s weird about it. yeo never lets anyone touch it, much less have it”

you blanch a little, “in that case i’ll give it back to him later then”

“you don’t like it? or…you don’t like my brother? my brother talks about you a lot, you know,” she reveals

caught off-guard by her perceptiveness, you reveal that you have been hurt before

you don’t specify by what exactly or who it is that you’re talking about, but she seems to understand regardless

later that night, sweet yeoreum barges into yeosang’s room and with as much feistiness as she can muster, she glares at her brother and interrogates, “what did you do to make her upset?”

before he can so much as blink, yeoreum concludes, “you boys are dumb. go talk to her and fix it or something,” and then walks out with a huff

there’s no one there to witness it, but yeosang nods anyway

heart feeling a little heavy after your conversation with yeoreum, you head towards the kitchen to seek solace in the sweet pastry you are usually served each morning

the first time you tasted the danish pastry, decorated with strawberries and cream cheese, was when you had traveled to yeosang’s palace at the age of sixteen for your first meeting

you remember the blissful expression that had bloomed across your face with your initial bite, and no dessert ever captivated your tastebuds quite the same way ever again

if there is one good thing out of this arranged marriage with yeosang, then it would be the reunion between yourself and the strawberry danish

“your highness,” the head chef bows, followed by the rest of the staff in the kitchen, “how may we help you?”

when you ask for one of the pastries, the head chef apologises that there are none

“but we can make you one now, if you do not mind waiting”

you tell him not to go to the trouble and ease his worries, “i just thought there may have been leftover pastries”

“we make only one fresh every morning, specifically for you,” the chef explains, and confusion must settle across your features because he adds on, “his highness has expressed that you may like them”

oh?

flustered, you can only muster a short response of, “i do, thank you,” before you smile once more and excuse yourself

because of all people to notice and remember such a small detail, and then to go out of their way to put in the request with the kitchen on the off chance that it was still true, it was yeosang? 

first the vase, and now this

you feel something deeply buried inside of you start to stir but you rush to nip it in the bud

your head and your heart are beginning to wage war against each other and suddenly everything feels like it’s too much

when you reach your bedroom, you throw open the double doors to step out onto the balcony, welcoming the chilling breeze of the darkening sky

you’re tired of fearing rejection if you open up

you’re tired of questioning yeosang’s intentions

and on top of it all, you suddenly miss home and you miss your parents and you miss juwon and-

“are you okay?”

yeosang’s soft question startles you, having missed his knocking at your door

he walks closer to join you out on the balcony when he sees that the answer is obviously a no, and he prompts you again, “what’s wrong?”

thoughts of vases and strawberry pastries flit across your mind

you start with half truths

“just missing my little brother”

“you love him a lot, don’t you,” yeosang smiles sweetly, “i can see it in the way you take care of yeoreum”

you can’t help the heat that slowly creeps up the back of your neck and to your ears, because it implies that he’s noticed all the times you’ve showered his little sister with the same love you give to juwon

it implies he’s noticed you

“what’s your fondest memory of juwon?” he asks when you nod

something within you thaws slightly at the fact that yeosang remembers your little brother’s name

you step closer to the edge of the balcony so that you can overlook the garden outside your room a little clearer, resting your hand on the railing as yeosang waits patiently

“we used to have this game we played. we had a lot of gardenia flowers growing around our courtyard and juwon loved cutting some to make me a mini bouquet,” you pause to shake your head with a chuckle, “it drove our mother nuts”

“doesn’t sound like it stopped him from continuing though, did it?” yeosang questions with mirth

“no, it didn’t,” your heart aches with fondness. “he would use a certain number of gardenias and make me guess what phrase containing the same number of letters he had in mind” 

it never failed to tug your mouth into a smile whenever juwon giggled at your attempts to guess the flower phrase, even when most times he would bound away whilst singing answers like y-o-u s-t-i-n-k or d-u-m-b d-u-m-b

yeosang supports himself on the railing with one hand as he nearly folds in on himself in laughter, and before you know it, you too are gasping for air and wiping away tears from your eyes

when you both calm down relatively enough, only intermittent chuckles leaving your lips, yeosang clears his throat and scratches his neck awkwardly

“i know it might not be much, but maybe we can go out into town tomorrow and it might take your mind off things? and we can bring yeoreum along if that makes you feel more comfortable, because you’ve probably spent more time alone with her than you have with me?”

you don’t admit it, but you’re already feeling a little better, so you decide to tease, “are you asking me out on a date right now, kang yeosang?”

“oh, well, we’d be doing things a little backwards since we’re already like, married…but, yes? maybe? is that okay?”

it’s yeosang’s turn to flush a deep red as his usually composed demeanor is reduced to stutters, but you don’t notice under the faint glow cast by the moon now reigning the sky

“yeah, that’s okay”

you and yeosang smile fondly as your little trio stroll through a nearby town the following morning, his younger sister skipping ahead to peer at the colourful trinkets being sold at the market stalls, and your own small squad of royal soldiers following behind at a respectful distance

it’s kind of endearing how yeosang points out item after item, asking whether you like it or whether you find it pretty, in a not-so-subtle attempt to learn about your preferences

you have to stop him from buying you something from every second stall you both pass, but you’re unable to convince him from purchasing a small wooden toy as a gift for juwon, insisting that you give it to your little brother the next time you see him

the more you actually interact and talk with yeosang, the harder you find it to associate him with the memory of the yeosang in your rejected letters

because the equation of the letters, the vase and the pastries just does not add up

as you two sit under the awning of a small shop, watching yeoreum play with the shopkeeper’s dog, you find yourself unable to hold back anymore

“why didn’t you reply to my letters?” you break the silence, trying to hide the hurt laced in your voice

yeosang looks at you with wide eyes as his mouth stutters open

and in the smallest voice you have ever heard him speak with, he says

“you wrote me letters?”

your eyebrows knit together as your eyes dart back and forth between his, searching for any hint of deception

“too many to count,” you confess, “until you sent a letter telling me to stop…”

“impossible. i never got your letters” 

your head recoils back as you try to make sense of his words, “but-”

“wait,” he interrupts

yeosang reaches into his robes, pulling out a small, wooden block, extending it out closer to you as he asks, “do you recognise this?”

upon closer inspection, you realise it’s a square seal stamp

it has the character ‘姜’ carved into it and you’ve seen it enough times to know it represents the kang family name - but the inscription that stylises the border is unfamiliar

“not the seal, no”

he swallows apprehensively, “i stamp all my letters with this to certify authenticity”

you let his words sink in as they throw you into a sandstorm of bewilderment

“but then-”

but then who wrote the letter?

and where did all your letters go?

the only people who would have known about them would be the royal couriers and…eunju

a memory flashes through your mind - the moment she handed you a letter with a smile

no, not a smile, you realise

a smirk

you are simultaneously overwhelmed with betrayal, guilt and apologeticness

yeosang doesn’t push you for a response, and you come to recognise that you are also grateful

“i’m sorry for doubting you,” you tell him

it’s nowhere close to the amount of things you want to confess, but it is a start, one that yeosang picks up on and understands immediately

“no, i’m sorry you felt the need to doubt me,” he offers. “that i didn’t make you feel loved enough”

“but i did, actually. the vase and the pastries, then our conversation last night…and even today”

he blushes a deep red as you list the things off with your fingers

“you weren’t meant to find out about the first two,” yeosang admits as he ducks his head shyly

then he suddenly perks up with a sudden thought

he ruffles inside his satchel that had been abandoned to one side, mumbling, “my sister said i did something to upset you…so i um, got you these” 

he turns around to reveal a bouquet of flowers, looking a little rough for wear after being hidden in his bag all morning, but his clumsy consideration only serves to makes your heart skip dangerously

“forgive me?” he asks cheekily, and you both giggle at the absurdity of his question because it should very well be the other way around

“if you insist,” you take the bouquet into your hands

and finally, you allow the chains around your heart to fall away, “i can’t say no to my husband, can i?”

yeosang lets out a little squeak as you look at the bouquet more clearly, counting the number of flowers

you turn to ask if he remembers the game you told him about, but the way yeosang suddenly finds the patch of dirt near his foot absolutely fascinating tells you everything that you need to know

eight flowers

eight letters

i l-o-v-e y-o-u

#loren writes #ateez fics #ateez smut #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #hongjoong scenarios #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa scenarios #yunho x reader #yunho scenarios #yeosang x reader #yeosang scenarios #ateez ot8 x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez crack #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez headcanons #ateez au #royal ateez #prince ateez #prince!ateez

[magicalmanhattanproject]

Okay, so with Quackity Studios tweeting about adding new people and the need for tolerance and patience with people who don't speak English, let's just take a second and have a chat about what that's gonna look like.

First: you will hear things or read things on the translator that hurt or offend you.

This is inevitable. Do not immediately post about it. What you need tolerance for is hearing things that hurt or offend you and what you need patience for is figuring out of malicious intent was present or if this is a hill worth dying on right now.

As an example, we're pretty sure at this point that Korean is gonna be the next language added. The second person pronoun in Korean sounds a lot like the n-word in English. The n-word in English, if you're not aware, is like the single most offensive slur we have. It's not something that you want to hear unexpectedly. But also, if we get Koreans, they're gonna be using the word for "you" and English speakers are gonna have to be able to tolerate that.

On the other side of things, Korean has a complex system of honorifics and addressing someone without an honorific would be considered very forward and intimate at least if not very rude. None of the QSMP languages have honorifics though and only French really retains formality* so no one else is going to address them with honorifics unless they specifically explain it to people and walk them through it. That will probably be weird and uncomfortable for them and they're going to have to be able to tolerate that.

*Spanish and Portuguese do technically have formal vs informal but it's disappearing quickly in both of them.

These natural cultural clashes and pain points are going to be harder to overcome since we also know that at least some of these creators won't speak English at all so they can't just switch to English to helpfully explain things to us easily in a way we understand. We're going to have to deal.

So here's the thing: just because there can be cultural miscommunications and mistranslations, that doesn't mean that people can't also be assholes. How do you distinguish between the two?

Step One: Assume good faith. Assume that everyone in a given encounter is trying to communicate respectfully and compassionately and that a failure to do so can be overcome

Step Two: Don't get involved. Especially not in Twitch Chat. Two or more people trying to communicate through a language barrier does not get easier when they're also trying to wrangle hostile viewers.

Step Three: Are you sure you heard what you thought you heard or saw what you thought you saw? Did the translator fuck up? Is it a word that just coincidentally happens to sound like another word? If this is the case, the streamers can ask for clarification or use another tool and get it cleared up. Keep watching and see if they do.

Step Four: If they did say what you thought they said, are the streamers handling it? We had a thing a while back where Bad called some friends, including Bagi and Etoiles, uncultured because they didn't get a reference he was making and Etoiles was like "bro I'm French" and Bad apologized. That should have been the end of it, but I had to see people arguing about it for weeks. The problem was solved in 10 seconds.

Step Five: If the person is doubling down, are you sure this is something you can fix by yelling about it on Twitter or Tumblr? Would it be better to let people who actually know them talk to them behind the scenes? Pierre made a few missteps in the beginning of the server, Quackity said they had a chat, Pierre hasn't misstepped since. It's just easier to sort things out in private, one on one conversation than yelling at someone in public.

In short: it's fine to take note of behavior in case patterns start to emerge in it, but yelling on social media about how so and so is the worst person possible is not constructive.

#sorrelposting #qsmp

[the-rad1o-demon]

[Image ID (sorta, basically just the text from it):

GET KOSA TRENDING.

STOP SCROLLING NOW!

AS OF FEBRUARY 21ST, 2024, WE GOT FIVE DAYS UNTIL THE DAY OF DECISION OF THE KOSA BILL, WHICH WILL CAUSE MASS CENSORSHIP ROUND THE INTERNET IF PASSED. OR DOOMSDAY. WE NEED EVERYONE TO KNOW ABOUT THIS AND CONTRIBUTE. I'M NOT GIVING UP ON YOU ALL.

WE'RE DOWN TO THE WIRE BUT WE CAN'T GIVE UP YET. IF WE GIVE UP, EVERYTHING IS OVER. IF WE DON'T, AT LEAST WE HAVE A CHANCE.

I'M THE ONE WHO SOUNDED THE ALARM, AND I'M NOT GOING TO CURL UP AND DIE YET.

Reblog this post in every LEGAL way you can under the Tumblr guidelines with the appropriate tags. TELL AND TAG EVERYONE YOU KNOW, then add the tags to see below... and more if you can think of any complying.

Visit badinternetbills.com if you want to find a way to defeat KOSA. It WILL NOT take much of your time. Reblog with any other information or sources, too-- but make sure to reblog if you can.

Reblog if you support lgbtq+ content.

Reblog if you support questioning queer youth and/or abused youth getting the information they need.

Reblog if you support Ao3 and/or other sites that wholeheartedly preserve talentedly made media.

Reblog if you're going to repost this on other sites than Tumblr and spread the word across Twitter, Tik Tok, Pinterest, or elsewhere, alongside the link to badinternetbills.com.

END image ID]

Hey, everyone. So yeah, this is happening. We're still fighting this battle. And we can't give up now. We can't. We can't stand idly by while one of the most important resources that helped us all wake up, or at least start to question things, is being threatened by the government.

We can't stand idly by when kids, teens, and adults just like us still trapped inside might lose access to the resource that could help them wake up. We can't stand idly by when they might lose access to their non JW friends and family. We CAN'T stand idly by when we can do something to stop this bill from passing.

I am sick and tired of this same old song, where conservative fuckers higher up think they can oppress everyone. I am FUCKING SICK of it.

Please, reblog both this post and the original post linked above what I've written, and do what you can to stop KOSA, please. We are running out of time.

I suggest that if it is within your power to do so, that you do more than simply reblog and assume someone else will do something. DON'T assume that. Please do more than just reblogging if you are able to, because that's not really enough at this point.

Call/email representatives in the House and tell them to oppose KOSA (you may want to list different reasons depending on who you're calling, some House representatives are anti-LGBTQ+, so it may be best to tell them to oppose because it violates people's privacy, safety, and anonymity online). Print posters and put them up where legal if you can.

Sharing all this information to other social media sites (Instagram, Reddit, TikTok, the bird app) to reach more people can really help too. The wider the reach, the better.

Thank you. Now let's fucking rip that bill apart like we rip apart Watchtower magazines and eat it for fucking breakfast. (In a "we're eating it and the politicians who are sponsoring it are looking on in horror" kind of way)

#kids online safety act #internet censorship #stop kosa #exjw #ex jw #ex jehovah's witness #ex jehovah's witnesses #not necessarily ex jw related tags but still relevant bc this bill also affects these communities: #queer #lgbtqia #lgbt #lgbtqplus #lgbtq community #ex catholic #ex mormon #ex christian #ex evangelical #ex cult

[femininemenon]

"i'm struggling to find gifs" "why can't i find gifs of this scene or this show" "why are less people taking requests"

you repost to twitter, to pinterest, to instagram, to tiktok and lord knows what else. on twitter, a single gif taken from a gifset that didn't even receive 1k notes (not 1k likes or even 1k rbs, if that even exists these days) can get 3m views and 30k+ likes. without credit, of course - if you're lucky, you get a mispelled: made by x on tumblr, no link of course.

hell, you repost on this very site and you refuse to listen. your set, stolen from someone else and mixed in with quotes, gets 1k notes meanwhile the original sits at less than 500. you do not credit the person who made it.

we ask you to reblog things instead of liking them and you go on rants about how it's unnecessary and how we should do it for fun. we explain a hundred times that tumblr doesn't work the way other social media platforms work, but you refuse. you wonder why there are less gifmakers.

gifs don't take 10 seconds like on ezgif or imgflip or whatever the hell you're using. it takes hours sometimes to even download footage, but you don't care. it's a moving image that we "stole" (?) from the original work but the labour? you don't care. depending on our process, it can take from half an hour (the downloading and the editing part) to hours upon hours. but who cares.

you credit text posts, fanvids, and you go after those who steal written work (as you should). we cannot even get other gifmakers to care when our stuff is stolen. staff took away our only tool to fight reposters on this site, and we never had any to fight reposting to other sites.

we know what the staff is aiming at with the changes they make and the changes they refuse to make - we explain that why disabling likes would help, they say they will not do it. they cannot slap an @ onto gifs when saved to prevent stealing but boy, look at the shiny new editor that adds an additional least 5 minutes to upload your gifs! again, intention is very clear.

we know you don't steal gifs under a certain quality and we know you ask us for requests for scenes/parallels that have been done because you do not like the quality of those. we see you stealing quality sets.

there is no point to this i just needed to vent. staff is disregarding the very foundation of this site, gifmakers are given less and less respect and you wonder why scenes aren't giffed.

i don't know. add your perspective if you want

#tuserbea #tuserrex #tuserabbie