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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 4 months

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PoC and queer people, and queers of color are not out here being mad at everyone for no reason. Did you guys think it was just a group of cishet white men who probably don’t even watch the show? We have begged all these years for aid, but it’s dystopian-like to see you guys come together and pay over $21 thousand for a billboard within a few hours. The “charities” aren’t listed, and even then seeing fans tell the organizers use all the money for advertisements is horrifying to say the least. Even more so adding on the creator is a Zionist and antiBlack, which again White people arent gonna give a shit about as they continue to show so in all fandoms. It’s the people affected that calls this guy out, and y’all don’t listen. Do what you want, but stop diminishing our voices as the “angry crowd” have some damn compassion

CW: Racism, Anti-Semitism, Zionism, This is a save space ship so please do not read if you don't have the spoons because there's heavy shit in here today. ------ Hi friend! First of all, I want to say thank you so much for reaching out and giving me some more information! Personally, I don't think what you're being mad about is "for no reason". For me, that's not where the issue lies, and perhaps you could provide me with some further insight. So far, the only kinds of responses to this campaign that I've encountered that are negative have been "Taika is a Zionist", and I have not encountered that "queers of color " we're having a problem. Now, that could be that I just haven't seen them and now that my reach is out a little further it's coming up-- which is great, I want to have a conversation about it. I am newer to the fandom so it's possible I just haven't been around for a lot of this in the past, I admit that. I would be more than happy to hear more about what it is that "Queers of Color" have a problem with regarding the show.

------

In regards to "Even more so adding on the creator (I'm assuming you're referring to Taika here as opposed to David Jenkins?) is a Zionist and antiBlack, which again White people arent gonna give a shit about as they continue to show so in all fandoms."

So, I can see why you feel that way. I've heard a lot from many people of color who feel as if they aren't being considered in a lot of fandoms (not specifically this one but general scifi , fantasy, etc). I am white, so I know that no matter what my background is culturally, I cannot understand the full extent of what our friends of color go through so I try to amplify the voices of those people when they bring information to the table. I do think this fandom cares, and would love to hear more if you're willing to provide it.

My First Question is, where is the narrative coming from that Taika is AntiBlack? He's of Te Whānau-ā-Apanui, an indigenous person, with jewish heritage. I did some googling (yes I realise that's not the most efficient or accurate tool, but I did try to find independant sources). The thing that sticks out most to me is regarding the 2020 following the death of George Floyd. Here is one of the articles I referenced:

Taika's tweet was "Watch the whole thing. Eloquent. Clear. Everyone is angry but there is a way to direct that anger." in response to Killer Mike's message asking “not burn your own house down” and instead “fortify your own house.” and to "Plot, plan, strategize, and organize" as he said in the video.

Now, I see a lot of reactions from people of color specifically stating "don't police my anger" and that is a 100% valid take. No one should be telling you how to channel your anger when as a society you are being murdered and you have to fight back to survive. I do think that everyone still has a lot to learn.

I am going to give you a little background on myself (not to toot my own horn, but to provide a little perspective on how much we are still learning). I am whiteyest white person there is, like I go outside and my skin practically lights on fire from my irish/eastern european ancestry, but I also have a black biological grandmother from Guayana who had ancestry back to many years before when slaves were brought over during the Atlantic Slave Trade. So growing up, even though I was white, I thought I had it all figured out on racism because my grandma was black. The narratives taught in US schools were that "racism was in the past" because schools had been white washed, and I grew up in Northern Virginia, where it was supposed to be "multicultural center of the country" since we were so close to DC. Over time, I started finding out from friends of color and indigenous friends that they were still experiencing racism towards them. I never knew, because I wouldn't have, it wasn't faced towards me. And I knew some-- but I didn't know enough even then 15 years ago. Roll around to 2010-12ish, several things occurred that made "black face" become more prominent and I had more discussions with my friends about what kind of racism they dealt with in their day to day lives. I used to color my arms when I was a kid with a brown marker because I wanted to look like my grandma. I found out at the ripe old age of 24 that was basically black face for a lot of people and that it wasn't ok.

2020 came, and George Floyd, and Brianna Taylor, Stephan Clark, Botham Jean, Freddie Gray and so many others were murdered by police and white supremacist shitwads, and suddenly, not just me but so many more white people started to get the slightest inkling of just HOW BAD it really was for black people in this country. That was the year honestly I started to question the systems of our government, and all the racial inequalities that I THOUGHT I had understood before.

Our government, our society culturally has tried its best to sweep racial inequality under the rug, and pretend like "racism is gone" when we still have systems built on racism, that benefit from racist systems of the past. (This is why it's so important that we keep fighting against people who want to white wash history books in a lot of the southern states like FL and TX) Is that an excuse? Of course not. But I believe in change whole-heartedly, and while I am still ashamed of the vast ignorance I had for so many years, and worry about the ignorance I still don't know I'm ignorant of, I do try to be better. I am trying to take that shame and continue to learn and chip away at my ignorance not only through others but on my own. I am not asking for you to pity, or to forgive me or any other white person for that kind of ignorance, what I'm doing here is trying to make a safe space to share and so you can see that people can actively change. Is it enough? Probably not, but it's a start.

-- Now, All that to say, regarding Taika... that tweet from 2020, as I said, quite a lot of people (of all colors) had their eyes opened that year to some pretty systemic racist horrors, and if that is the tweet that sparked the idea that Taika is "Anti-Black" I think, while you don't have to forgive him, it would be something to consider that quite a lot of people were well intending during that time but did not fully comprehend exactly how bad it was. I would however, if you'd be willing to chat with me in DMs about it, or send another ask, like to hear more if there was more evidence of it somewhere I didn't see.

-------- In regards to Taika being a Zionist... which I have heard from others quoting the letter he signed asking for the release of hostages in Gaza. I'm including a link to a copy of the letter just so people can read it, I realize the hollywood reporter isn't an amazing source, but it has the letter included, so thats why. Once again, when that letter came out back in October, quite a lot of people didn't actually know what was going on in Gaza.

We all heard brief things in our day to day news feed, but just like how everything is on the internet right now, information isn't "complete" it's broken up in fragments and it takes a really long time to compile them. There is misinformation galore, and it's incredibly easy to not hear the entire story. I know in October, I was dealing with health issues and I was completely just not paying attention what was going on (we all have our lives and as much as I'd like to say we can all be omniscient and fully present for all things it's truly not a reasonable expectation of any human being nor should it be, the world is a very large place, and we should help where we can but there's a limitation on human ability).

In my opinion, as someone who has tried a lot of their life to "do the right thing" and made a lot of mistakes and tried to learn from them, that letter, and Taika signing it seemed like a "Good intentions" situation again, hoping that he could help in someway. Am I making excuses for him? No, I'm expressing my perspective. I'm not here to change your opinion on him, I'm here to express why fans are still fighting for this show. Do you have other resources regarding his support of zionism?

What concerns me though as a whole, is people throwing 'Zionist' around very liberally these days. I am not an expert on the situation and I don't claim to be. However, growing up in DC when 9/11 happened, I can tell you that labels like that can get dangerous very VERY quickly. Muslim families I grew up with had their windows shattered with bricks on the night of 9/11 (and labeled terrorists) despite being pillars in the community and never having hurt a soul.

Right now, Zionist is a word that is being used to label someone in a very intense way, and it invokes dangerous responses in people. I do believe we really need to make sure we are labeling these situations properly because those kinds of labels CAN and WILL get out of hand very quickly and get people hurt.

I'm going to link to this article from the Anne Frank house to define Zionism. I am also going to list this article from the American Jewish Committee regarding racism and anti-semitism. Once again I'm not an expert on the situation going on in Gaza, and I'm happy to hear more regarding it.

-----------

In regards to your comments on the charities: There are some charities listed in a few places, they just aren't all part of the advertising campaign one:

The main one for Rainbow Youth is here: The Renew As a Crew Fundraiser (not the advertising one) https://ry-community.raisely.com/renewasacrew/ **The Advertising Campaign / Charities**

You mentioned in your ask "even then seeing fans tell the organisers use all the money for advertisements is horrifying to say the least".

I can understand why that would be horrifying to someone who is feeling raw the way that you are. It's completely valid. I would like to offer up the perspective that some people are very invested in this show for their own reasons (some people have never felt represented in major networks) and they too are allowed to feel excited and say things that might be in their own best interest. We are all allowed those opinions, and I think the more we shame people for wanting something, the less discussion we're going to be able to have. That said, I think the @renewasacrew leadership team made a good decision to stick to their original $10K for advertising, and the rest going to charity because of the confusion. It does the most good, and still allows the original intent -- to show the world how much Our Flag Means Death means to many people.

In regards to which charities they are going to -- I had seen somewhere that they were going to a charity Samba and Vico Ortiz had chosen but I asked the leadership team on twitter and this is what they responded with (which I think is fair, they're trying to take their time to make a good decision with the help of everyone involved).

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

I would also like to point out however, that we do have the ability to care about more than one thing at once. One thing that makes life worth living is the little things that make us smile. I have a lot of stuff at home that makes life rough, and my escape is this gay pirate show, and this beautiful, compassionate community that supports it.

We are allowed to have things that we love as well as the things we fight for. I do a lot of my activism on facebook and in person, I don't bring it to tumblr much because this is the safe space for a lot of people to dream and have dreams. It is important for everyone's mental health to step away from the realities of life sometimes (which I know some people like those in Gaza or Ukraine can't do) or else we all burn out and can't help anymore.

I hope this helps a bit in showing you we do care about queers of color, and we do want to know more how we can help, and we are willing to listen. There's a lot of compassion in this community, and I think a lot of people would be willing to talk about it if things are done in a safe space. I do apologize that you feel like we've "diminished" your voices, that was not the intention. If you would like to use that voice to provide more examples and your views I'm happy to listen. I do think we need to allow people to enjoy things too though, because life's not worth living otherwise. Nothing is perfect, but we continue to try and improve.

I would also like to recommend that if the OFMD fandom renewal campaign is bothering folks, please feel free to block us. We don't want to make anyone feel bad, but we also want to express ourselves in a healthy manner. Much love your way Anon.

#ofmd #our flag means death #asks #anon asks

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writingwithcolor · 2 years

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Does my spoiled Black princess act “too white”? Plus possible forced caregiver role

Anonymous asked:

I just had someone on Discord complain that a black character of mine comes off as “too white” (Read: Whiny and immature). The thing is: I did that on purpose. She’s a princess, a sheltered, spoiled one at that, and much of her character arc revolves around her journeying into the outside world for the first time and learning to grow tf up. I explained this to the guy, but he stuck to his guns and said that even with that context in mind, it’s still an issue.

So I’d like another opinion on this: Is there anything I should change? Not her race, though. She has a very particular character design for which I want her skin to be as dark as possible.

And I’m not sure how important this last bit is, but I figure this is the kind of thing you’d want to know: She also has a little (white) kid tagging along with her, but she’s a massive jerk to him for the first quarter of the story because she doesn’t want him there. But she cut a deal with his brother to take him with her, and as insufferable as she can be, she has a strong code of honor.

I would like to start by saying that acting “too white” is not a thing. Her personality should be defined by how she was raised, even though that can be influenced by the culture in which she grew up. I know that many Black communities, from the Caribbean for example, tend to have a stricted education. Populations who once were subjected to colonialism or faced racism by immigrating generally have education views marked by trauma : we are held to higher standards to represent our community.

Does that story takes place in our world and or in a fantasy world ? If it’s in our world, depending on where she’s from, chances are high that she went through a not-so-spoiled education, even though I don’t know about African royalties. If you’re writing fantasy, you’re free to do what you wish and her being immature fits her education.

However I would be a bit more concerned about the White kid hanging with her. Your description makes me think of him as a… pet, kinda ? And it draws a weird parallel with European royalties a few centuries ago having Black servants, a bit like a reversed situation. Where is the kid from, is there racism in your world ? Is there a reason why the brother wants her to take him with her ? What is the thing with that kid. I’m more concerned about that part than the princess’ personality to be honest.

- Mod Lydie

This guy in your discord just sounds ignorant. Black people are not all assigned to a set descriptor of personality traits. A princess with a sheltered, spoiled and whiny personality is not reserved for only white people. BIPOC, and particularly Black people in this case, come from all backgrounds and personas.

I would ask this person, “what would a princess who ‘acts Black’ act like to you?” Based on his mindset, I'm sure having a Black princess at all is a stumbling block. If your audience can’t envision a Black person who doesn’t act and think the way they envision that all Black women must, that’s their own racist bias to overcome.

Let them feel uncomfortable as they get to know characters that are not caricatures who soothe their stereotypical assumptions.

White kid tagging along, forced to care for them

As for the kid: Like Lydie, I find this bit concerning.

Questions I have:

What is the purpose of his presence?

Is she being forced into a caregiver role without her consent? Whether out of obligation, morals, or having been tricked?

Is this kid meant to teach her a lesson on being humble?

Forcing a Black girl who is arguably “too whiny, immature, and spoiled” into caring for a (white) child can feel a bit like forcibly humbling her into servitude for being too “uppity.” For context: Black people that have nice things and act proud of their lifestyle are often seen as thinking they’re better than other Black people, aka the uppity stereotype. Keep in mind that people who think Black people should not have these luxuries or be proud of their success love to see them “knocked them down a peg” in an attempt to humble them. But why do they need to be humbled?

Perhaps your princess does have some less than favorable traits. Ask yourself if they need to be “corrected” by servitude, if at all? Seeing character growth is a part of stories, yeah, but there are other ways she can undergo that process without going from princess to Mammy.

Here are some examples of ways to create character growth for the princess without servitude being involved.

Character growth without caretaker role ideas

Having a character tag along with her that doesn’t need her care, but building a real friendship (or romance) with them that helps her be more considerate for others.

Or this character does not fear her whiny attitude and challenges her throughout.

She sees how other people live, act and love. This makes her reflect on her own actions and / or long to be included.

Experiencing a life changing event or loss that makes her reflect on her own actions.

Overcoming real challenges, self-care and hard work that causes character growth and humility, without humiliation.

The child tags along, along with some else that does the caretaking. (Parent, sibling, servant). Even without having to do much for caregiving, she experiences growth as she starts to care or like the child.

So long story short: There is so much thing as a Black person who acts white. That’s simply people who can’t envision Black people beyond stereotypes, and that is a “them” problem, not your story’s. Carry on! We do recommend you avoid forcing the Black princess into servitude in an attempt to amend her personality. See the suggestions above.

~Mod Colette

#Black women #characterization #mammy #uppity Black person #Black tropes #Black stereotypes #racism #asks

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loopy777 · 6 months

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So there's going to be a live-action Zelda movie.

(Let's leave aside that no one from the creative team inspires any confidence.)

In celebration (?), I'm going to dig out my old idea for the only way a LoZ movie can be anything other than a cheap rip of Peter Jackson's LotR movies. See, I don't think LoZ has much to recommend it as fantasy itself. It doesn't have very many characters, and most of them don't have any personality beyond the most generic archetypes. There's no story that isn't just about collecting some plot coupons and fighting the big bad. Visually, there are few unique recurring memorable icons, just the Gorons and Zora, and Link in the green clothes; the triforce is just a triangle and the master sword fits in a little too well with all those cheap unofficial sword props they sell at conventions. Everything else varies too much to be iconic.

They could play it safe and adapt one of the more memorable games. But there's a reason why fanfic novelizations of those very rarely get very far, and why the manga adaptations usually last one or two volumes and spend most of their pages covering the initial premise and interactions with the quirkiest side-characters. Sure, it's possible to put together a good movie out of such a thing, but in that case, would the final product be all that much different than the recent D&D movie that underperformed despite being nicely entertaining?

I've long said that the one thing the Zelda franchise really has going for it (outside of being fun video games, which is actually the most important part but of no use in this conversation) is the way it uses repetition of its own iconography. It often retells the same stories, even when the stories are sequels to each other, and there's always a Link and always a Zelda and always a bow'n'arrow and always a moblin and water dungeon and a flute, etc. When a game does something unique, that stands out even more because of the context of the formula.

I also want to combine that with a fun mechanic in some of the games where Link solves puzzles by flipping between worlds/times. In 'Link to the Past,' he can go back and forth between the Light and Dark Worlds to make progress. In OoT, he can set things up in the past to solve problems in the future. In the Oracle GBA games, the dungeons themselves have puzzles which require taking actions in certain seasons and time periods in order to solve them.

So my ideal Zelda movie has multiple simultaneous stories going. One based on OoT, one based on Twilight Princess, one based on Breath of the WIld, and a mix of the NES games. They would each have a completely different acting cast, including the Links played by different actors. Scenes from each one would have different directors, ideally, but that may be unnecessary if the art teams can really do a good job differentiating them. The storylines would intercut to show their similarities and differences, and would sometimes even replace parts of each other's stories so that the lines between them blurs. At least one fight scene should be so intercut that literally every cut changes which storyline we're in, but it combines to create a single continuous and discernible fight scene.

As I've thought about this idea over the years, I've decided the storylines should swap characters as they go. The actors should stay the same- TP!Zelda should always be played by the same actress, for example, even when she's in the OoT storyline. Otherwise it would just get too confusing.

The theme we're going here is the nature and purpose of legends. We want to show how this one basic story reflects the societies that tell it, so we want the various storylines to make a big show of the setting of Hyrule in each era. We want to hint that the various elements in the story, including the characters, say something about the people who tell and value the legends. And we want to highlight how this changes as Hyrule changes.

It all culminates in all the storylines converging in the final battle against Ganon(dorf), with all the Links and Zeldas and sidekicks teaming up for a massive fight against evil. But the critical part is that all the populations of Hyrule are observing this fight, and the soundtrack is their shared million-person chorus recounting The Legend of Zelda, an epic poem chanted in a manner that puts Duel of the Fates to shame. I'm torn on whether the poem should be in English, or some made-up language that has to be translated via subtitles, complete with translator notes about untranslatable stuff and words where we're not sure of the exact meaning.

I admit it's possible I'm missing the entire point of a Zelda movie.

#legend of zelda #legend of zelda movie #loz movie

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femmefatalevibe · 1 year

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hey! me and my girlfriend have been together for 6 months now ans i love her to death. we both see a future together and despite certain hiccups weve had here and there, we always find a way to work through them and become better partners for each other. however the past few months our sex like has been suffering (at least on my part) because she's been so stressed due to outside factors and her libido is considerably lower than before. i havent pushed her to have sex with me (i am a SA and also r*pe victim so i am extra careful about consent and i would rather walk on hot coals than put her or anyone else through what i went through) and ive tried to be respectful despite the fact that she always says no whenever i try to initiate something and we rarely have sex now. she knows its affecting me and feels very guilty about it, which ive told her on numerous occasions that she shouldnt because im not entitled to sex or anything of the kind from her. thing is that despite the fact that im scared to tell her, this is affecting me in more ways than i can manage. it's fucking up my self esteem, making me feel unwanted (because even though the reason for her lack of sex drive isnt me and i know she finds me to be the most beautiful girl in the world, im the one that always gets rejected and she always looks so guilty when saying no) and kind of gross for wanting sex. i feel so disconnected from her in that area and i crave that kind of intimacy and closeness with her so much. plus getting rejected every time stops me from saying no if shes offering and i dont feel up to it, because i don't know when else ill get to be that close to her agan like that so i just do it. i very much enjoy it still but its messing me up that our sex like is suffering like this. most of all, im so unreasonably sad and angry and ive been having horrible mood swings because of it, which affect my ability to be a good partner to her and give her space to talk about her things. its making me hate myself and idk what to do about it. im sorry for the long post, but i need advice as im scared to tell her how much its affecting me in fear of making her feel guilty or coerced. i love her so much. any advice?

Hi love! Mismatched libidos are so tough to navigate in a relationship, even if it's common (at least at some point or another). It's truly commendable that you have such a healthy, respectable take on the situation (unfortunately, so many people feel more entitled to sex from their partners than they would like to admit), so I can see how healthy your relationship is! I totally get why this situation makes you feel undesired, it's only human, so validating this feeling of yours.

Here's my take on how to create intimacy and a closer sexual connection without actual sex when one partner (or both honestly) isn't in the mood:

Do A Sexy Photoshoot: Both wear your hottest outfits and lingerie and take photos like you're each others' muses (because you are!). It can be a hot activity on its own, a steamy way to initiate more foreplay, or to use as souvenirs when you need some self-care time to satisfy your sexual needs.

Give each other sensual massages: Candles, sexy music, sensual smelling oils, the works.

Ask for a dirty talk or sexy recording: Even if your partner isn't in the mood, it doesn't mean she won't be happy to communicate her desires for you verbally. You can listen to it when turned on to feel more connected generally or to use it during a self-pleasure session.

Discuss fantasies and unexplored desires: Nothing is hotter than talking about new things you want to try (besides actually doing them, of course). Either you feel closer from this steamy conversation or you get your closeness on a more physical level after you're both hot and bothered.

Schedule regular date nights: Never forget to arouse other pleasure centers: A delicious meal, wine, sensual music, candles, and musky perfume. Create tension and connection – whether dessert includes something sweet or slightly tangier.

Also, as an important note: I'm a heterosexual woman, so I'm speaking from a general place of how to manage mismatched libidos through a heteronormative lens. Anyone in the WLW who wants to correct me on anything, please do, and feel free to teach me more about these relationship dynamics to help the community!

Hope this helps xx

#femme fatale #dark femininity #dark feminine energy #it girl #dream girl #queen energy #sex and relationships #sexuality #relationship advice #libido #seduction #femmefatalevibe

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wuxiaphoenix · 1 year

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Worldbuilding: Eyes on Magic

I know it’s not how the xianxia genre works, but realistically? Any government should keep a wary eye on cultivators. Some amount of your empire’s or kingdom’s spy network should be devoted solely to making sure you have info on all the scary magic-users around. Who they like, who they hate, who they have friendly brawls with that level whole villages. What can they do? What won’t they do? And at any given point in time, where are they?

In short, your fantasy empire ought to put as much effort into keeping track of cultivators as they do military generals and major religious leaders. After all, a sect leader might qualify as both.

I think you can square this pretty well with the background of the Jianghu, everyone having a rep and a Name. Obviously, people talk. It wouldn’t take much for an empire to station undercover scholar-officials in a few choice disreputable taverns to pick up intel. Granted, there’s a risk of sudden horrible death in a jianghu brawl, but that’s what disposable scholars who can’t get a government post are for.... Maybe worse, there’s a risk of recruitment, if you survive that brawl.

(Of course, if you survive and turn down being recruited - and survive that.... Looks like the empire lost another spy anyway, because you’re likely to be very busy. Dodging assassinations, or being dragged along on some damnfool idealistic crusade as the Scrolls Guy. Possibly both.

(...Make that definitely both.)

As for what governments do when they have this information?

Smart politicians will mostly leave the lightning-throwers alone, outside of noble appeals to defend the country from invasion, other evil magic-users, and maybe floods, droughts, and plagues depending on their skillset. Smart politicians will keep what they ask for reasonable, and in everyone’s best interest. What sect can’t use a little good PR from clearing a canal vital to trade and irrigation?

...I know what you’re thinking. When’s the last time you met a smart politician? Worse, a smart bureaucrat? Because every government has its paper-pushers, who have access to all the info politicians do; maybe more, since they’re the ones who filter “what’s really important”.

And the more petty the bureaucrat, the more viciously they defend and try to expand the power they have. If part of that power is access to info on a magic-user said mage would rather not have spread around....

Yeah. Things get messy.

But it also means things can get interesting, if a magic-using person tries to disappear. Some nobody potion-maker or guy who curses people with warts, if they try to fade out of sight, it should be easy. The sect leader who can bring down a dragon with one mighty blow? Yeah, no, people are going to notice. And be looking for him. After all, too many people tend to think, if a person is innocent then why are they hiding....

Conversely, this means that if a Dread Necromancer appears out of nowhere and starts raising a zombie army, someone’s spy network has failed. Heads should roll.

...Okay, maybe not this minute, we don’t need to give the necromancer more bodies....

Magic is showy, flashy, and fun to put in stories. People who can do it are the stuff of legends. And in a more realistic world, of gossip and espionage!

Just imagine the tension, as a sweating advisor reports to the emperor, “One of our cultivators is missing....”

#creative writing #worldbuilding #xianxia #wuxia #fantasy

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randomnameless · 1 year

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btw random, i was wondering, why don't you like hapi?

Ooh!

Well, it's a mix of multiple factors, and while some friends tried to give another POV, I still have this, idk, aversion to the character.

As to why...

It mostly comes from the context.

Hapi was released with the DLC, in 2020.

Hapi has a special condition that makes her "dangerous" to the world outside, so she's quarantined in the Abyss.

She complains about the people who placed her there being assholes because they promised to heal her but lied because she still has her special condition - the Knights of Seiros found Hapi 1 year ago (in 1179).

The Knights of Seiros rescued me—promised to protect me. But then they hid me away in Abyss.

She even compares how the CoS "hid" her in the Abyss to Cornelia's experiments :

When I was little, a lady locked me up and held me captive for a long time.

So all the knights did was move me from one cage to another. Wouldn't you call that mistreatment?

And ultimately complains about her quarantine :

Those hypocrites preached about love and decency while shoving folks like me into the shadows.

So,

I know it's unrelated to the game, but in 2020, someone complaing about not being able to go outside because of an "illness", kind of understanding why they have to stay "at home" but still thinking the gov/officials who told her to stay at home suck because they told her to stay "at home" instead of finding a remedy and how they are hypocrites because they are people who preach about certain values, like freedom, while infringing said values when it's necessary - hit a bit too close to how some people acted and behaved during, well, 2020.

Sure, it sucks to be quarantined, but there is no remedy available for now and you represent a danger to some people - what are you going to do ?

(tfw no facemasks in Fodlan)

Complain about "government/authorities BaD" On how they "lied" because they said they were going to come up with a vaccine and it wasn't available in May 2020 ?

Granted, there is the angle of "those people said they were going to help me and didn't help" that could be interpreted as her feeling betrayed by people, after having been betrayed by Mole!Cornelia.

She's jaded and doesn't trust anyone - save for a few people - and complains a lot, about many things while being apathic, giving nicknames and believing to be witty. Hapi's basically your everyday run of the mill teenager - worse, add the constant "complaining" about everything and you have the worst, a french teenager.

And that's not the kind of character I enjoy in my fantasy games (or irl in general)

Add on top the "I understand why they had to keep me quarantined because public safety but they can't be preaching about love and roses when they do this to me even if it's for reasons that are perfectly legit" spiel that could have came out of a "freedom fighter" from 2020 and you have my feelings on that unit.

Of course no one gives a fuck about her condition and iirc she's never "healed" from Cornelia's experiment? Just like everything regarding multi tiled units, the Monsters Hapi summons are just used for a "lol funny" quirk, and it is never shown nor even mentioned that some of them might have had crushed a house or two, or slaughtered a random on the way to meet her because she sighed, nope. We don't even know what happened to the Church that sheltered her, how did they discover her power, did it happen by accident, what were the casualties? Can those beasts be controled ? Some of her ending suggest so, because she fights leading an army of them, but otherwise it's just...

I mean, in her support with Yuri she mentions she doesn't want to return hom because with her curse she could destroy the village, so maybe she learnt - later - how to control the beasts, idk.

I think the Dimitri support touches it, DImitri wants to help her and lift Cornelia's curse, Hapi says the Church tried but didn't manage to find a remedy? Their ending said after pursuing the mole people they finally managed to find one though.

Tl;Dr : Hapi being a teenager would already have led her just above the Doro tier imo in how much I appreciate the character, but add the Covid-19 context, she's even below Doro.

I know, it's shocking.

#anon #replies #character rant #salt #FE16 #i didn't even bother with her supports in Nopes maybe I should check #but just like your random teenager who makes a point thinking they're witty #all of her reactions and comments and lines just fall flat #and you just want to scream shut up #if she had been release in any other year I wouldn't be so opinated on her #like for sure it must have sucked to be in the Abyss waiting 1 year to get a treatment #but after 2020 ? get rekt #fun thing I foddered her as soon as I got her on a pity break in heroes #forgetting to get the flowers because i really don't like that character #and also skill inheritence is good

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autumnslance · 1 year

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Has your character ever committed a crime? Is it something they've come to actively regret/potentially done time for(?) or do the see it as a necessary evil - or even something to be admired for?

This turned into a bit of a ramble as these questions are always interesting, cuz "crime" is so terribly subjective. Criminal behavior depends on laws, which aren't always sensible nor just (which the last part of the Ask touches on in a way).

This was something I actually learned from a childhood book called "Donkeys Can't Sleep in Bathtubs" about all sorts of weird laws still on the books in many places across the US, and which got me a radio call in contest reward cuz I knew pinball machines were considered dangerous somehow in the state of Georgia; from there it wasn't too far a hop to understand how immoral laws could be justified and exist for far longer than they ought to.

FFXIV OCs exist in a video game where gameplay mechanics don't really care about arbitrary laws while also making the usual stereotyped pre-industrial fantasy setting assumptions about how casual theft, assault, and killing are and whether or not they even count as "crime" or are justified based on one's role, reasons, and those tricky legal issues on top of "it's just a game mechanic."

Though it's also interesting if you pay attention to enough quests, the WoL doesn't kill quite so many people as can initially be assumed, even if the "death animation" is used. Or it's mechanically placed mobs in weird locations that'd realistically absolutely alert multiple packs of nearby enemies and why would they be clumped like that anyway in actuality but this is for gameplay and experience points...

ALL THAT SAID.

Iyna's probably the primary "criminal" in the group, at least as long as the Empire was still a thing, given how she committed acts of rebellion and treason before going AWOL and defecting and then joining rebel groups set to fight Garlemald and regain their freedoms...and now, while all those experiences were necessary and shaped her for the last 60+ years, no one's exactly lining up to arrest and prosecute her with the Empire fallen (there might be one or two officers out there who want revenge on her for something, but that's not the same as legal pursuit and justice).

The Warrior of Light, especially when wandering around Garlemald and talking to people in Tertium, isn't always popular, but again as of Endwalker it's not really much of an issue as the provisional government starts picking up the pieces. Other actions the WoL undertakes may be otherwise considered criminal, but tend to end with little more than a scolding from leaders. C'oretta and Dark Autumn have probably bent more than a few laws in Ul'dah, which is generally dealt with by paying the right bribes and favors in which case can one say a law was actually broken and a crime committed if the default handling of it is so blase (and then we come back to real world issues of "some laws are unjust/immoral as they only apply to some while merely inconveniencing those with the money/power to ignore them").

Only other thing I can think of is ignoring prejudicial Hearers to do things that absolutely would not cause woodsin and anger the Elementals (which also comes up in story a few times), which is something Dark's had to navigate, especially as she comes to realize sometimes some Hearers are pushing their own agenda and she's started to pay more attention to those claims and how various groups in the Twelveswood actually live and interact.

Otherwise my girls are boringly law-abiding and moral; they'll fight or ignore an unjust law as needed, but don't go out of their way to break rules for the heck of it, and outside of Iyna, weren't in any positions in their lives to need to survive by any means necessary.

Which means they tend to come to the necessities of adventuring and that casual flaunting of many rules and legalities from other perspectives, and while C'oretta can be pretty nonchalant about "well if that's how it is OK", Dark and Aeryn take more fretting and thinking about it and "wanting to make it right later," while Iyna's likely to do what needs done, expediently, though she takes no joy or pride in it. It's simply reality.

#final fantasy xiv #lyn prompts #lyn meta #lore #setting #writing #characters #Dark Prompts #Iyna Prompts #Aeryn Prompts #Punchy Prompts

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valkblue · 2 years

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[Altair: 2, 26] ; [Elara: 7, 42] ; [Vespera: 5, 25] ; [Vivian: 33, 35] ; [Zak: 13, 15]. 🕴️

😍

— Altair

2- Do they wear perfume/cologne? If so what scents do they prefer?

No, not really. Just plain soap is his favourite. And now, he spend too much time in the wild with horses, dogs and campfires to even think to bother with anything else anymore.

The scent he would prefer would be soap with milk and herbal tones, though.

26- Have they met any of their heroes? Did they regret it?

I'm not even sure he has a hero outside of all the war veterans in his family so, I'd say no. And regretting it? Well… does having to hear the endless angry rants of highly intoxicated 'retired' general Molivar counts??

— Elara

7- Do they have any unusual fears?

She has pretty rational fears in general but, an unusual one would be any scrapping sounds she can't locate. In space or on the ground.

42- Can they speak multiple languages? If yes which all do they speak and why?

Yes, she does! Quite a few, actually!

Basic: it's her mother tongue.

Huttese: it's almost her second mother tongue. Her parents started to teach her that one so young that she's as fluent as any Hutt or Twi'lek.

Jawaese: if it's not about trade, she'll be struggling a little more with this one.

Binary: she used to understand it very well as a child but she forgot almost everything about it by lack of practice. She still gets bits here and there according to the droid that speaks to her but it's rudimentary.

… and a touch of Mando'a because she heard enough of it during childhood to be able to pick up a few words and sentences, idioms and sayings that are all typically Mando even translated to Basic. And she has no idea that they are, most of the time.

— Vespera

5- Do they have any tattoos? If so what are they and do they have any special meaning?

She has just a little one. 👀

25- Do they have a daily/nightly routine?

In that aspect, and when she isn't running for her life under the cover of dubious military ops, she has a pretty comfortingly boring routine; wake up early, do her little things around a light breakfast, work (or enjoy life if it's a day off), get home, enjoy a hot shower or bath, cook something light, read or watch TV in couch or bed (which happen to be the same in her studio) and then fall asleep like that.

Rinse and repeat.

— Vivian

33- Do they play ttrpgs? If so what kind of characters do they play? Or are they more likely to GM?

She used to!! And she tried many kind of characters but in the end, stuck to Mage in Fantasy contexts. (Magic is fun! Fireball!!!) But in other games she's been more adventurous and played quite a few one shot, huninged characters she had a ton of fun with.

But she also stuck to a player role. She's a shit GM.

35- Do they believe in fate or do they believe they are in charge of their own destiny?

As I said here, she'd have reasons to be greeting Fate (should she exists) with a baseball bat sometimes. But, honestly, she doesn't believe too much in all that. So, she's more of a 'in charge of your own destiny' kind of person actually. (But she's going to keep the baseball bat close to her hands, just in case…)

— Zak

13- Do they enjoy poetry?

Oh yes, very much. Blaher poetry is especially good too, so it helps… and it's part of all the kids first experiences with reading in school so, it's also ingrained really young.

Currently, he's reading Bohrs and Nain poetry a little more in depths and he likes very much what he's discovering!

15- What kind of sense of humor do they have? Or do they have one at all?

A very light one. Kind of an opportunistic sense of humor. He used to prank people with his friends when he was a boy but now, he likes more tamed jokes and funsies.

But in general, he's ok with any kind of humor as long as it isn't cruel, actually.

#ask games #fatesrpg #ocs #oc:altair #oc:elara #oc:vespera #oc:vivian #oc:zak

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goddamnwebcomics · 2 months

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*Draconia Chronicles

*Since someone did Slightly Damned, I’m doing this.

It’s a fantasy, somewhat soft-pornographic webcomic by Danny Valentini (AKA RazorFox).

Since the distant past, tigers and dragons have been in a never-ending war with each other for centuries. While the reason for the conflict has been lost, the unending hunger for vengeance on either side has been fueling these creatures into genocidal lust over the other until one race is wiped off the planet. The eternal war has also brought internal troubles for both races. Fractions and disagreements have been growing stronger within the ranks of both races, and a few have started to become disillusioned with the lost cause of the war entirely. What makes this even worse for both tigers and dragons is the presence of other animal races working against both of the warring groups to possibly bring them both down unless the two races work together to survive.

The comic’s quality is both hard for me to say and yet not too hard to explain. The most positive thing I can say is that the art is the least horrendous thing about it, ignoring the sometimes oddly shaped body types of each of the cast members that are shared by both races. Personally, for me, the writing makes the comic pretty dull to read and shockingly slow in how the story progresses. It mainly attempts to be a serious story with its tackling of war, how said war has caused a lot of generational trauma and tragedy on both sides, the growing split within both of the race’s societies due to the failings each side deals with in the war, and other supposedly gray morality subjects that the author could possibly write in. It, however, has to also try to balance all of that out with the comedy and fanservice aspect of the comic, which, unsurprisingly since this comic was originally just a series of calendars, can throw off the tone and one’s reading engagement for the majority of the time. I swear, so many of these characters fall into the category of being both overly whiny, unforgiving, and melodramatic, all at the same time, that whatever humor or semi-serious tone in a given scene just falters. You are not going to remember many of these guys outside of maybe four or so characters interchangeably, not like it’s an easy task to begin with anyway. And yes, the fanservice can also pull you out of the whole story, with everyone practically being naked all of the time and/or horny so frequently—the tigers in both cases especially. Oh, and if you’re wondering where the males are in either race, they’re there. They’re just usually gone, are feral (quadrapedic), unlike the anthropomorphic tiger and dragon women, and don’t take part in the war at all. They’re just breeding stocks, if I’m being honest. I’m not even sure why only the feral dragons can talk at all.

As I’ve said before, the comic did originally start as a series of calendars, so there’s already some pre-story elements in them that lead into, I believe, chapters one or two and onward. You don’t really need to read it, as the comic itself and its about page sum it up, but if you want to punish yourself more, you’re free to read it here.

This is so goddamn weird. All this time I thought Draconia Chronicles was just Las Lindas with dragons but apparently not.

I am not saying comics with a lot of fanservice couldn’t have serious stories but this is ridiculous. The artstyle alone clashes so much with the actual themes of the comic.

#bad webcomic #weird webcomic #furry webcomic #not exactly safe for work #submission

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freemindedspirit · 3 months

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Hello I have a question regarding generational trauma.

I’d talk about black/african/afro history. For decades black people were put in slavery by arabians, themselves (but that was the case for every peoples to enslave those they caught in a battle) and white people. The reasons for each are a bit different but the global idea is that african that were caught were sold to arabians and white people. That was the trade, they give slaves to receive arms or whatever else. Before the enslaving of black by white people, african people could only be free if they converted to Islam otherwise they’d stay slaves. Their spirituality, appearance, culture etc… were demonized by everyone. Muslims and christians (and even other nations today who still considere black/african history as poor, animalistic which is fake or at least very incomplete if we see that in an western/asian pov… they were very close to Nature and their environnement… just by looking at their spirituality and how they took/take care of their hair and more !). Then, after (and even while) the white esclavagism on african people (now afro-descents) I see how much art/music/nature was and is a big part of african/afro-descent identity. If they survived to esclavagism it’s because they had faith in music, in their own spiritual abilities sith their voice, their body, their hair, their mind. It’s not some scientific stuff like white people did but they manage to create their own power with the african spiritualty transformed into Art mixed with Nature/what’s natural. (I don’t know iff you get what I mean).

However my question is, why do black/afro/african people had to go through that and still suffer from it generations after generations ? Did an african ancestor put a cursed or did something not good for us to go through those things ? To be frank I don’t think you nor me would have the real answer but I would love to know your idea(s) on it, because for me we are very connected to Nature in all its forms but we are also the most hated kind of human being for absolutly no reason at all…

I mean, I think there's a lot of oversimplification here. In Northern Africa, black and arabian people (i define arabian here as a arab speaking population, of mixed, meditaranean or middle eastern ethnicity) have been mixing for a while. Both Christianity and Muslims had black followers even without colonization and forced conversion. Ethiopia for example, has some of the oldest churches and christian traditions in the world, and were one of the first few christian population, as in like, Roman Empire old christian people. Before christianity, the majority of the population was jewish or pagan. Africa is huge, it's a whole continent, and so many religions and traditional beliefs remained outside AND despite of christianity and islam. Also, Islam and Christianity are not necessarily detached from nature, and Black cultures are not necessarily unscientific... I think you have some misinformation and some deconstruction to work through yourself... What you are projecting onto the entirety of black people is also what people are projecting onto american indigenous people or past european witches. You are creating this idea that it was evil monotheistic falsely rational religions of the colonizers vs nnocent people who were connected to nature and pure because they did not have monotheism nor science. And i am not saying this was not colonization motivated in parts by religious beliefs, because it was, but this belief is also reducing the population to this Rousseau-like idea of the innocence of the savage man, which is also a tool for oppression. This is the idea that is driving thousands of white or privileged people to do humanitarian travels to fulfill their white savior fantasy without actually understanding what the culture or people is outside of the fact it's exotic and different and "more natural". It's also what drives cultural appropriation in new age spaces, because people are craving meaning so bad they would rather look at practices they don't understand that are put on a pedestal on the standard of "purity from religion/society" but voided of their actual cultural context. Science is not a white people thing. Science was valued and built differently in different cultures yes, but Islam valued knowledge so much muslim countries and cultures were the home of so many significant achievements in history. Before and outside of Islam, black people and cultures cultivated science. Did you know that Africa has the oldest technological record because it has the oldest tool found archeologically ?The oldest findings of chemistry being understood as a science is also found in Southern Africa. Stones were discovered with writing suggesting a strong mathematical skills applied to astronomy. In fact, calendars from Zimbabwe were found to be even more accurate than Mayan ones.

To answer your last question, there is no reason why this massacre happened. It would be spiritual bypassing to simply say that one person cursed the entire continent to suffer for a thousand years... Colonization happened because people in power would benefit from new lands and people to work it that did not need to be paid. They fell upon lands they didnt know, and their greed paired with their religious exceptionalism led them to massacre the new people they came across. If i may suggest two texts to think about I recommend :

-the chapter 19 of Candid written by Voltaire. Candid is a philosophical tale written by a French author who criticizes the society of his time, including slavery. Specifically, this chapter has the main characters meet a dying slave, who talks about his life and how he was turned into a slave by his parents selling them to the Dutch, and how "it is the price of you eating sugar in Europe". Slavery was about money, and about the higher classes showing off lands, conquests and food as a luxury afforded by the exploitation, suffering and genocide of black people. -The controversy of Valladolid which is a historical event that was later transcribed into different books and movies. This is the very first debate in Europe about how while colonizers wanted to define humanity and whether or not indigenous people were human or not. In the book version I read, it was particularly interesting as the ending was about how colonizers would use the land, and how the final decision was that indigenous people were human, but not as much as white people, however, black people were not "human enough" but could be free labor for sugar and cacao.

#racism #colonialism #black #bipoc #pow #black history #black liberation #islam #christianity #paganism #black witch #witchblr #miaro rants

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smokeybrand · 2 years

Text

Augmented Reality

Apparently, i do weekly Azur Lane updates now. Sh*t is weird, man. Never thought I'd be so attached to a f*cking gacha game that wasn’t based on the Fate franchise. Good job, Manjuu, you guys have created a sufficiently pleasant gacha game. I didn’t thing it was possible. Even Genshin Impact took a nose dive after a while but Azur Lane has walked that fine line between tedious and rewarding, beautifully. To understand what i mean, you have to understand that my bread-and-butter in gaming, is the RPG. I am a sucker for narrative and those types of games generally have incredibly rich, incredibly elaborate, canon. That stuff satiate my appetite for storytelling but the thing that often keeps me coming back are the mechanics. Be it a battle system, loot drops, augments, crafting, stat enhancements, whatever, the Virgo in me absolutely LOVES to tweak my characters. Azur Lane give you a ton of options for that sh*t.

You are lousy with options to tweak your character in this game. Guns, Auxiliary components, ship levels, Enhancements, Limit Breaks; I love this sh*t. It reminds me of the equipment buffs you get in a Final Fantasy or Dragon Age game. That’s not even counting the special event items you have a limited time to grab. Those thing are almost always overpowered. Fortunately, i tend to grind out the necessary, event focused, currency to buy them en route to cashing out for blueprints. Unless it’s an Iron Blood event or I really like the design, i am not concerned with shop characters or the like. I end up with all of this event currency for no goddamn reason so why not buy some new ear? I mean, If it ain’t an Orthant rerun, i just kind of lament. That sh*t is a continuing source of pain for me. My KMS dock is incomplete without those Orthant ships and every time there is a new one, i am reminded i missed the one event which introduced so many new Kraut girls. Frustrations aside, the newest update gave me another option to increase the power of my fleet in the form of Augments.

Listen, Azur Lane is lousy with ways to trick out your Boat Girls. They kind of didn’t need a new one but, i must say, after tweaking with these new Augment options, i am kind of in love. I’m still a little hazy on all of the nuance with this brand new option, but so far, i am liking what i get. As i understand it, an Augment is a new option that adds a passive buff to your ship. As far as i can tell, they function as an Auxiliary slot in that way but with a much more potent effect. These things are also very Class specific. My Ulrich has the option to equip the Officer’s Sword and Bowgun but my darling Agir does not. Her options, at least the few i have available to her Class at the moment, are the Javelin and Greatsword. All of these options are Elite level in nature but, interestingly enough, when i went to Augment Prinz Eugen, my favorite ship girl in the entire game and the reason i even started playing, she had what appears to be a character specific Augment, Lucky Ship’s Punishers. They also happened to be the only Super Rare Augment i have. Admittedly, i haven’t gone through all of the Fleet yet but i am excited to see if any other characters have that character specific, good sh*t, too. Now, I am being incredibly superficially with my analysis of this whole Augment situation, here. There is a ton of depth outside of the new slot and items that I'm not getting into at the moment. That might come later when I'm more comfortable with the option but, just as a first impression, i am impressed. This ain't that Orthant rerun for which i have a mighty f*cking need, but this new Augments option is a passable consolation. Plus, anytime i get to tweak my Eugen is a good time.

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jungkxook · 3 years

Text

—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad.

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?”

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly.

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you.

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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writingwithcolor · 3 years

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What Does Our "Motivations” PSA Mean?

@luminalalumini said:

I've been on your blog a lot and it has a lot of really insightful information, but I notice a theme with some of your answers where you ask the writer reaching out what their 'motivation for making a character a certain [race/religion/ethnicity/nationality] is' and it's discouraging to see, because it seems like you're automatically assigning the writer some sort of ulterior motive that must be sniffed out and identified before the writer can get any tips or guidance for their question. Can't the 'motive' simply be having/wanting to have diversity in one's work? Must there be an 'ulterior motive'? I can understand that there's a lot of stigma and stereotypes and bad influence that might lead to someone trynna add marginalized groups into their stories for wrong reasons, but people that have those bad intentions certainly won't be asking for advice on how to write good representation in the first place. Idk its just been something that seemed really discouraging to me to reach out myself, knowing i'll automatically be assigned ulterior motives that i don't have and will probably have to justify why i want to add diversity to my story as if i'm comitting some sort of crime. I don't expect you guys to change your blog or respond to this or even care all that much, I'm probably just ranting into a void. I'm just curious if theres any reason to this that I haven't realized exists I suppose. I don't want y'all to take this the wrong way because I do actually love and enjoy your blog's advice in spite of my dumb griping. Cheers :))

We assume this is in reference to the following PSA:

PSA to all of our users - Motivation Matters: This lack of clarity w/r to intent has been a general issue with many recent questions. Please remember that if you don’t explain your motivations and what you intend to communicate to your audience with your plot choices, character attributes, world-building etc., we cannot effectively advise you beyond the information you provide. We Are Not Mind Readers. If, when drafting these questions, you realize you can’t explain your motivations, that is likely a hint that you need to think more on the rationales for your narrative decisions. My recommendation is to read our archives and articles on similar topics for inspiration while you think. I will be attaching this PSA to all asks with similar issues until the volume of such questions declines.

We have answered this in three parts.

1. Of Paved Roads and Good Intentions

Allow me to give you a personal story, in solidarity towards your feelings:

When I began writing in South Asia as an outsider, specifically in the Kashmir and Lahore areas, I was doing it out of respect for the cultures I had grown up around. I did kathak dance, I grew up on immigrant-cooked North Indian food, my babysitters were Indian. I loved Mughal society, and every detail of learning about it just made me want more. The minute you told me fantasy could be outside of Europe, I hopped into the Mughal world with two feet. I was 13. I am now 28.

And had you asked me, as a teenager, what my motives were in giving my characters’ love interests blue or green eyes, one of them blond hair, my MC having red-tinted brown hair that was very emphasized, and a whole bunch of paler skinned people, I would have told you my motives were “to represent the diversity of the region.”

I’m sure readers of the blog will spot the really, really toxic and colourist tropes present in my choices. If you’re new here, then the summary is: giving brown people “unique” coloured eyes and hair that lines up with Eurocentric beauty standards is an orientalist trope that needs to be interrogated in your writing. And favouring pale skinned people is colourist, full stop.

Did that make me a bad person with super sneaky ulterior motives who wanted to write bad representation? No.

It made me an ignorant kid from the mostly-white suburbs who grew up with media that said brown people had to “look unique” (read: look as European as possible) to be considered valuable.

And this is where it is important to remember that motives can be pure as you want, but you were still taught all of the terrible stuff that is present in society. Which means you’re going to perpetuate it unless you stop and actually question what is under your conscious motive, and work to unlearn it. Work that will never be complete.

I know it sounds scary and judgemental (and it’s one of the reasons we allow people to ask to be anonymous, for people who are afraid). Honestly, I would’ve reacted much the same as a younger writer, had you told me I was perpetuating bad things. I was trying to do good and my motives were pure, after all! But after a few years, I realized that I had fallen short, and I had a lot more to learn in order for my motives to match my impact. Part of our job at WWC is to attempt to close that gap.

We aren’t giving judgement, when we ask questions about why you want to do certain things. We are asking you to look at the structural underpinnings of your mind and question why those traits felt natural together, and, more specifically, why those traits felt natural to give to a protagonist or other major character.

I still have blond, blue-eyed characters with sandy coloured skin. I still have green-eyed characters. Because teenage me was right, that is part of the region. But by interrogating my motive, I was able to devalue those traits within the narrative, and I stopped making those traits shorthand for “this is the person you should root for.”

It opened up room for me to be messier with my characters of colour, even the ones who my teenage self would have deemed “extra special.” Because the European-associated traits (pale hair, not-brown-eyes) stopped being special. After years of questioning, they started lining up with my motive of just being part of the diversity of the region.

Motive is important, both in the conscious and the subconscious. It’s not a judgement and it’s not assumed to be evil. It’s simply assumed to be unquestioned, so we ask that you question it and really examine your own biases.

~Mod Lesya

2. Motivations Aren't Always "Ulterior"

You can have a positive motivation or a neutral one or a negative one. Just wanting to have diversity only means your characters aren't all white and straight and cis and able-bodied -- it doesn't explain why you decided to make this specific character specifically bi and specifically Jewish (it me). Yes, sometimes it might be completely random! But it also might be "well, my crush is Costa Rican, so I gave the love interest the same background", or "I set it in X City where the predominant marginalized ethnicity is Y, so they are Y". Neither of these count as ulterior motives. But let's say for a second that you did accidentally catch yourself doing an "ulterior." Isn't that the point of the blog, to help you find those spots and clean them up?

Try thinking of it as “finding things that need adjusting” rather than “things that are bad” and it might get less scary to realize that we all do them, subconsciously. Representation that could use some work is often the product of subconscious bias, not deliberate misrepresentation, so there's every possibility that someone who wants to improve and do better didn't do it perfectly the first time.

--Shira

3. Dress-Making as a Metaphor

I want to echo Lesya’s sentiments here but also provide a more logistical perspective. If you check the rubber stamp guide here and the “Motivation matters” PSA above, you’ll notice that concerns with respect to asker motivation are for the purposes of providing the most relevant answer possible.

It is a lot like if someone walks into a dressmaker’s shop and asks for a blue dress/ suit (Back when getting custom-made clothes was more of a thing) . The seamstress/ tailor is likely to ask a wide variety of questions:

What material do you want the outfit to be made of?

Where do you plan to wear it?

What do you want to highlight?

How do you want to feel when you wear it?

Let’s say our theoretical customer is in England during the 1920s. A tartan walking dress/ flannel suit for the winter is not the same as a periwinkle, beaded, organza ensemble/ navy pinstripe for formal dress in the summer. When we ask for motivations, we are often asking for exactly that: the specific reasons for your inquiry so we may pinpoint the most pertinent information.

The consistent problem for many of the askers who receive the PSA is they haven’t even done the level of research necessary to know what they want to ask of us. It would be like if our English customer in the 1920s responded, “IDK, some kind of blue thing.” Even worse, WWC doesn’t have the luxury of the back-and-forth between a dressmaker and their clientele. If our asker doesn’t communicate all the information they need in mind at the time of submission, we can only say, “Well, I’m not sure if this is right, but here’s something. I hope it works, but if you had told us more, we could have done a more thorough job.”

Answering questions without context is hard, and asking for motivations, by which I mean the narratives, themes, character arcs and other literary devices that you are looking to incorporate, is the best way for us to help you, while also helping you to determine if your understanding of the problem will benefit from outside input. Because these asks are published with the goal of helping individuals with similar questions, the PSA also serves to prompt other users.

I note that asking questions is a skill, and we all start by asking the most basic questions (Not stupid questions, because to quote a dear professor, “There are no stupid questions.”). Unfortunately, WWC is not suited for the most basic questions. To this effect, we have a very helpful FAQ and archive as a starting point. Once you have used our website to answer the more basic questions, you are more ready to approach writing with diversity and decide when we can actually be of service. This is why we are so adamant that people read the FAQ. Yes, it helps us, but it also is there to save you time and spare you the ambiguity of not even knowing where to start.

The anxiety in your ask conveys to me a fear of being judged for asking questions. That fear is not something we can help you with, other than to wholeheartedly reassure you that we do not spend our unpaid, free time answering these questions in order to assume motives we can’t confirm or sit in judgment of our users who, as you say, are just trying to do better.

Yes, I am often frustrated when an asker’s question makes it clear they haven’t read the FAQ or archives. I’ve also been upset when uncivil commenters have indicated that my efforts and contributions are not worth their consideration. However, even the most tactless question has never made me think, “Ooh this person is such a naughty racist. Let me laugh at them for being a naughty racist. Let me shame them for being a naughty racist. Mwahaha.”

What kind of sad person has time for that?*

Racism is structural. It takes time to unlearn, especially if you’re in an environment that doesn’t facilitate that process to begin with. Our first priority is to help while also preserving our own boundaries and well-being. Though I am well aware of the levels of toxic gas-lighting and virtue signaling that can be found in various corners of online writing communities in the name of “progressivism*”, WWC is not that kind of space. This space is for discussions held in good faith: for us to understand each other better, rather than for one of us to “win” and another to “lose.”

Just as we have good faith that you are doing your best, we ask that you have faith that we are trying to do our best by you and the BIPOC communities we represent.

- Marika.

*If you are in any writing or social media circles that feed these anxieties or demonstrate these behaviors, I advise you to curtail your time with them and focus on your own growth. You will find, over time, that it is easier to think clearly when you are worrying less about trying to appease people who set the bar of approval so high just for the enjoyment of watching you jump. “Internet hygiene”, as I like to call it, begins with you and the boundaries you set with those you interact with online.

#PSAs #asker concerns #diversity #motivations in writing #writing with diversity #blog housekeeping #internet hygeine #asks #WWC

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koqabear · 3 years

Text

hit me with your killshot, baby (C.YJ)

Summary:

It was a small, quiet town you had decided to move into. One that you could help with any healing or magical needs. What you didn’t expect, however, was to face a demon too powerful for your own good. The worst part? Seems like he’s gotten attached.

Yeonjun x reader/ demon!yeonjun x witch!reader

Genre: fantasy, enemies to ?? thriller(?), angst if you squint me thinks

Word count: 3.0K

Warnings: general physical fighting/violence, mentions of scars, burns, bones breaking, knives, blood, fire, descriptions of pain (let me know if I should add anything!)

a/n: This might get another part if it gets a good response <3 Writing fantasy is rlly fun for me as well, I’m so glad that this is the story that got me out of my writers block lmao

comments and reblogs are always welcome and much appreciated, hope you guys enjoy! <3

Disclaimer!! Absolutely nothing about this story is accurate or real, anything and everything that mc the witch does is made up!

It was about three in the morning when you got the call.

“Hello?” You said, eyes squinted as you had just been woken up from your sleep. The line remained silent for a moment, leaving you to wonder if this was a scam caller. You spoke again, only to hear hasty footsteps becoming louder, presumably running towards the phone.

“Hello?!” The voice called out, the loud exclamation causing you to jolt awake. “Oh my god, oh my god!” Their exasperated voice rang through your line, and you stood to get properly dressed, already anticipating their request.

“Where do you live?” You asked sharply, grabbing the keys to your car and waiting for their answer. They stuttered out their address, the sounds of the rain coming into your ear. They were now outside.

“Please come quick, this spirit has been bothering me for weeks now, I could have sworn they were harmless-“ they cried into the phone, only to get cut off by your stern command.

“Leave your home. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

They agreed, their voice quiet and shaky, and you hung up, beginning to drive to your new task.

It was no secret your town had a problem with the supernatural. That was the whole reason you lived here.

‘The town witch’ was what they called you. You remember moving to this small town the moment you turned eighteen, the rumors of the paranormal town beckoning you to help. With potions and incantations by your side, you were the best damn thing this place had ever gotten. But that was six years ago, and you were young and naive. The scars and burns that riddled your body only served to prove your progress, marking your place in this town permanently.

You sighed, your grip on your steering wheel weak. You were, after all, the only help these people had. Late night calls like this were beginning to become much too common recently, leading you to wonder if something, or someone, new was beginning to pester this poor town.

You arrived at the house, the thunderstorm only helping to provide a stereotypical atmosphere for you to work in. You got out your car, pulling your coat tightly against your body, the wind around you strong enough to hinder your footsteps.

The two story home before you rattled in protest, the front door swinging open the moment you got close enough. You felt your heart begin to race, beginning to question if this was truly worth it. It seems that whatever had been pestering the homeowner was no small ghost. Walking inside, you were met with the dark and empty home, the hardwood floor beneath you creaking in protest as you carefully walked around, the house seemingly calming the moment you entered.

You breathed in slowly, attempting to steady your mind as you surveyed the house, recalling what the homeowner told you before hanging up. This had been going on for a while, but it seems that it only recently became too much for them. Whatever was in this home really liked the attention.

Before you were able to take another step forward, you were thrown off your feet, slamming into the wall to your left, the many picture frames and decorations falling before you with a loud crash. The door slammed shut, and you covered your head, bracing yourself as you felt the glass shards begin to be directed towards you.

It’s here, and it’s angry.

Just as the chaos around you finally dulled down, you were met with the sight of the trophy shelf in front of you beginning to shake, your eyes widening as you began to run. You muttered a quick incantation to help shield you, the dull sounds of impact that began to pound against your shield only serving to make you run faster.

The hallway in front of you suddenly seemed never-ending, it’s violet wallpaper becoming harder to see the more you ran. Was the house layout always like this? The hallway suddenly ended, leading you to an open room, quickly recognizing it as the living room. The lights suddenly flickered on, disturbing your concentration as you noticed a shadow walk past one of the doorways.

Seemingly knowing you perfectly, the spirit took this small wavering to throw a book in your direction, narrowly missing your face as you ducked to the side, only to get knocked to your knees as you felt a kick to your back, your disturbed concentration causing your spell to be broken.

You turned around in a haste, summoning your shield once more as you unsheathed the knife you had in your coat pockets.

“Show yourself!” You barked out, standing up as you surveyed the room. “I know you’re here.”

Silence.

The howling wind outside stopped, the flickering lights suddenly still at the sound of your voice. You gripped the handle of the knife harder, trying to not let the exhaustion seep into you. The lights began to slowly dim, a lit ember flickering in front of you, only to be followed by many more, swirling into a raging fire directly in front of you. You jumped back at the heat, the familiar sight making you frown in anticipation.

“You look tired,” the voice said, as smooth and elegant as you first remembered it, “Maybe I could fix that.”

Standing in front of you was no other than Yeonjun. Clad in black, his dark eyes stared into yours as he towered over you, his platform boots shining underneath the dull lights, his hair slicked back and pushed away from his face save for a few strands that hung to frame his face.

“Yeonjun.” You said, a feeling of anger stirring inside you the longer you stared at him

“It’s so nice to hear my name come from you again,” he sighed, taking a step toward you, only for you to step back in retaliation.

Yeonjun was none other than the first demon you tried to expel when you first came here. You had fought with every single potion and spell you spent years perfecting, only to leave hospitalized and unsure that he would return. However, as the years passed and no sign of him appeared, you had assumed that you had succeeded in your battle against him, any signs of hauntings or poltergeists disappearing after that day.

“You,” you snapped, everything finally piecing everything together. “You’re behind everything that’s been happening recently, aren’t you?” You took another step back as he began to laugh, throwing his head back as if you had just told him the funniest thing in the world. Slowly, he calmed himself down, his eyes playful as he took his sweet time responding to you.

“Maybe, why?” He said, beginning to walk towards you slowly. You held your ground, concentrating on keeping your shield steady, they grip on your knife tightening. He stopped centimeters away from it, the aura of the shield humming as his clothes grazed the perimeter, shocks emitting on impact.

“I missed you, you know,” He muttered, head leaning towards you teasingly as he stood just far enough to not be blasted away from your shield. “It wasn’t fun hopping from town to town, trying to mess with other witches that resided there. They were just too…”

“Weak.”

You were barely given a moment before the sight of Yeonjun’s bright eyes filled your vision, the feeling of a scorching heat overtaking your senses.

Yeonjun had trapped you in a ring of fire.

A pretty small one, too.

Slightly panicked, you looked around for any place you could escape, the memories of the last time you got so close to Yeonjun warning you to get as far from him as you could, only to find that it was just you and him, trapped in a space that wouldn’t even allow you to shift backwards.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice taunting as he waited for your next move, “Claustrophobic?”

The weapon in your hand began to heat up, your mind working its hardest to form a plan that would work and let you come out alive. You already knew what this fire around you would do; It wasn’t a simple flame, and the scar on your chest that throbbed painfully in this demonic presence was enough proof of that.

The moment you had healed from your first encounter with Yeonjun, you had put all of the knowledge you had acquired from experience and older, more experienced witches into putting a weapon that would help you with violent demonic problems like him. It had taken you weeks of pure isolation and meditation to engrave the correct energy into the weapon, afraid to make any mistake that could lead to something drastic. By the time you were finished putting the last few touches on the weapon, (a protective incation; the words engraving themselves in fine print letter by letter as you poured the last of your energy into it,) you could barely stand, landing yourself at the house of a medic that specialized with witches.

“You’re lucky that you managed to come out of this with just drained energy,” He had told you one day, standing next to your cot and handing you a homemade medicine; its taste was horrendous, but it did the job.

“I’ve dealt with witches, succeeding or not, that had come out in a much worse condition. You’re very powerful, that much I can tell.” He confessed, his face sobering as he remembered why it was that you were there, “Whatever it is that you’re dealing with, I wish you luck.”

And now here you stand, the results of all your hard work and patience vibrating the more you concentrate on defeating the demon in front of you.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to try and hurt me with that,” Yeonjun laughed, watching the way your grip tightened the moment he landed his eyes on it, your knuckles turning white with the force, “You know your little knife can’t hurt me, right?”

While it was true that regular knives were nothing more but toys to him, you knew that what you were holding was not a regular knife.

But he didn’t.

You remained silent as you stared at him, quirking a brow to silently challenge him. He scoffed, rolling his eyes at your demeanor.

“Giving me the silent treatment now?” He said, pausing for a moment before looking back at you, “Fine. You think you can hurt me with that little kitchen knife?” With a single movement of his hands, the fire dwindled, going down until it was no more,

“Go ahead. Give it your best shot.”

You suppressed a smile.

Yeonjun was a lot of things. Strong, powerful, smart, hell, he was a bit attractive too.

But above all, he was cocky.

Slowly, and as subtly as you could, you adjusted your stance, your eyes never leaving his, ready to let your shield down to attack him.

“No games?”

His lips quirked up, his hands coming up to his sides to show you his full vulnerability.

“Fair and square. Here, I’ll even let you make the first move.” His pitch black eyes twinkled with his signature playfulness, his thoughts displaying to you loud and clear;

I thought you were smarter than this.

You fought the urge to scoff, and instead surveyed him for a moment, stepping back to give yourself a bit more room. He watched intently, his body language open and relaxed, clearly not threatened by you.

You lunged forward.

Before Yeonjun could move away, you swung your knife towards him, your stomach sinking as you missed your target, his neck, and sliced at his face instead. His head turned to the side, a hiss emitting from him as he turned back to you, the slash on his cheek burning into his skin, going deeper into his face as he began to bleed.

Except that wasn’t blood that came out of his face.

A thin liquid, pure black and mixed with the poison of your blade, trickled down his face. Slowly, he brought up a hand to his cheek, touching tentatively at his wound, observing the black substance that poured out of him, before turning back to you.

“Come on, you little vixen,” he groaned, the nickname that he called you from your first meeting rolling off his tongue smoothly, “Not the face!”

Cocky bastard.

But now that your first move was over, Yeonjun took a minute to crack his neck, the black liquid trailing down to his neck as he slowly rolled his head back, pausing for a second before straightening up, smiling at you sweetly.

“My turn.”

Right as you were going to activate your shield once more, Yeonjun ran to you, landing a solid punch to your stomach, sending you flying to the wall behind you, the wind being knocked out of you on impact as you crumbled to the floor. Looking up, you saw him lunge at you once more, mumbling your incantation for your shield, successfully knocking him back at the last second. Tumbling backward, Yeonjun layed on the floor as you slowly got back up, using the wall behind you as support, the wild and unhinged sound of Yeonjun’s laugh echoing off the walls.

“Oh, my little vixen,” he began, sitting up as he watched you regain your composure. “I missed this. I must admit, you have gotten stronger.” Standing back up slowly, you felt the room slowly heat up. You shifted, knowing what it was that he was about to do next.

“It’s exciting.”

Running towards him, you did your best to avoid the trail of fire that was now after you, ready to swing your knife at him as you got closer. Just as you were close enough to him, you swung towards his neck once more, the predictable movement allowing Yeonjun to step aside, only to get a kick to his chest, successfully knocking him down and allowing you to dive down, the fire that was about to pierce the center of your back flying instead to the wall in front of you, the loud boom barely covering Yeonjun’s scream as you dug your knife into his shoulder.

“Fuck!”

You towered over him, straddling his waist and putting as much weight as you could to keep him down. His hands immediately reached up to clasp over yours, attempting to pull the weapon out, only to have you retaliate by digging it into his skin more, his cursing filling up your ears as he struggled against you.

Your jaw clenched and you felt yourself begin to sweat, the same ring of fire from before beginning to enclose around you slowly with no signs of stopping. Your hands began to burn underneath Yeonjun’s touch, obviously his doing as he seemed to concentrate on attempting to scare you off with the same fire that landed you on the brink of death from your first encounter.

But you refused.

You refused to allow the demon to live any longer, to continue to terrorize innocent and defenseless people in your town, or in this world at all. And now that you had him under your grip, your hands struggling to successfully behead him, you weren’t going to let a little bit of pain scare you away.

Your hands began to numb under the heat of his skin, popping noises emitting from under his iron grip. He was attempting to break your hands, to render them useless, but with the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you pushed on, biting back your own groans of pain and trying to concentrate on your current task, and nothing else.

“Come on my vixen, give it up,” he said, his voice laced with pain and false confidence that he attempted to use in order to make you believe that he remained unaffected. But as your knife inched towards his neck, piercing through his skin and emitting a loud sizzling sound, you knew that it was all a bluff by the way he winced, a low grunt of pain escaping him.

“I really don’t want to hurt you, you know,” he confessed, the ring of fire snapping angrily at your legs, the heat making you want to faint from overexertion. But you continued to push on, much to Yeonjun’s annoyance. “Fine, you asked for it.”

He screwed his eyes shut, the ring of fire slightly calming down, along with his iron grip on your hands. Just as you were about to take this chance and behead him, you felt something coming.

You turned around.

A ball of pitch black fire, resembling a pure void, flew towards you.

It all happened so fast. Throwing you off of him, Yeonjun staggered away from you, watching silently as the void of black washed over you, your screams of agony causing him to look away, the slightest bit of pity washing over him.

This was it, wasn’t it?

You couldn’t move as this void of fire washed over you, a feeling as though every bone in your body was being broken and you were being turned inside out coarsed through your system, your screams ripping through your throat, the wish for death appearing in your heart.

But right as you felt as though you were going to black out, it stopped.

And Yeonjun stood over you.

He watched as you lay there, completely paralyzed with pain. It took a bit before you began to breathe again, your chest barely rising, the air flowing into you causing you pain. Slowly, you opened your eyes, Yeonjun’s face inches from yours, the dark liquid from his wounds dripping onto you.

“I almost feel sorry,” he whispered, his lips grazing yours. You tried to hold on, to finish your job, but the very effort of having to breathe exhausted you beyond belief. Slowly, he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss more of a half hearted apology as he lingered there for a second, his lips still against yours. His mind reeled at the feeling, and he pulled away, a soft smile on his face as he slowly brought his hand down, hesitating before caressing your exhausted face slowly, spreading his own blood on your face.

He grinned.

“I look forward to our next battle.”

And he was gone.

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you collapsed.

#txt fanfic #txt imagines #txt ff #txt fanfiction #tomorrow x together #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun imagines #txt reader #txt x reader #txt x you #txt x y/n #yeonjun ff #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x y/n #fanfic #reader insert #txt oneshots #yeonjun oneshot

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