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5-falsehoods-phonated · 3 years

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Soulmate September

Series Summary- a collection of one shots exploring different ships and au concepts. The list I created and am following can be found here.

Day One: Sparks Fly

Summary: Virgil goes deeper into the forest than he’s ventured before in the hopes of gathering more food. He finds more than he bargained for when a fairy claiming to be the prince of the forest begins to follow him.

Warnings: food mention. If there’s more please let me know!

Ships: Prinxiety (Virgil x Roman)

Prompt: Feel a spark when you touch your soulmate

WC: 3959

AO3

Tugging his long, dark cloak impatiently away from a jagged branch, Virgil skid down the steep embankment swearing the entire way. He didn’t often venture this far into the woods but he was getting just desperate enough to find gatherable ingredients he had decided to risk it. Honestly as long as he kept his eyes straight ahead and avoided the beckoning twinkles of light between the trees he should be fine. Thankfully this time of year the river was reduced to a large creek at best, making crossing to the other side where he was certain to find berries and mushrooms aplenty quite easy. It was only a matter of keeping his balance on the slimy rocks that normally made up the river bed, a skill he had mastered before he had even been entrusted as a gatherer.

Hiking his pants up to just below his knees he carefully adjusted his pack to be more balanced and draped the bottom of his cloak over his arm for good measure. The last thing he needed was to be scolded for dripping mud all over the floors again when he returned to the kitchens. Absentmindedly rubbing the stinging memory from the back of his head he hopped to the first rock, breath hissing between his teeth as the cold water rushed over his heated skin. With another breath he was perched on the second rock and then the third, toes gripping the moss in a mostly unneeded measure for stability. Wiggling a bit so his pack would recenter he eyed his next target, muscles tensing in preparation for the bigger leap.

“What are you doing?”

Squawking in alarm, Virgil tipped back dangerously, arms pinwheeling as his feet lost their purchase and let him fall backwards into the creek. Taking a brief moment to thank the gods he hadn’t landed on a rock he sat up quickly, sputtering as water ran down his face and soaked his shirt more than it already was. His cloak dragged behind him as he tried to get up, aiding only in him slipping back again with an unceremonial splash.

“Oh my dear I didn’t mean to frighten you!” There was more mirth than malice in the voice but that didn’t stop Virgil from flinching away from the strange hand that reached towards him. It retreated as he shoved sopping hair from his eyes and squinted against the sun to try and see what idiot made it a habit to scare people when they were jumping on wet stones. His breath caught when a face finally came into focus, sunlight forming a halo around the most beautiful person Virgil had ever seen.

His brightness was almost blinding, with shining red curls looking like spun gold in the light. Sharp features complemented kind brown eyes and tanned skin flecked with earth. Like Virgil he was barefoot, but instead of wearing sturdy pants and shirt to protect himself from the woods, autumn-red pants flowed just below his knees with an equally flowy white shirt tucked into them and unbuttoned to the chest. Despite the darkness of his skin he seemed to radiate his own gentle light that somehow made the sun look dull by comparison, making Virgil idly wonder if this was what seeing a god was like.

“Prince actually, but you do know how to inflate the ego.” The man chuckled.

Face burning with the realization that he had not only said that outloud but he had also been sitting in the water gaping like a stunned fish for entirely too long. Mumbling low curses under his breath he once again struggled to his feet while waving away the other’s outstretched hand impatiently. A fairy prince coming to pester someone with zero assets or connections- the fae were worse pranksters than they had the reputation for. Sighing, he decided to wade the rest of the way through the creek since he was already soaked, leaving the stranger behind in hopes he would stay there.

“So you never did answer.” No such luck apparently. “You do realize what part of the forest you’re in right?”

Virgil gritted his teeth. “I don’t wish to consort with your kind fae. I’ll only be in here for a little while.”

“My kind?” Virgil winced as he detected insult in his tone. “My kind are the reason your kind feel safe enough to traipse wherever you please regardless of obvious territorial lines!”

Virgil glanced at him quickly as he began scrambling up the incline of the bank. “Territorial lines?”

The man drew himself up proudly, keeping pace with Virgil as he effortlessly stepped his way up the embankment rather than crawling. “This part of the forest is mine, a long way from the edge of the river by your route. I could turn you into dandelion fluff for trespassing here.”

Virgil raised an unimpressed brow as he searched around for his next handhold. “Mhm, I’m sure you could.”

Smirking as the other man stomped his foot impatiently he made it up and over to the other side, slinging his pack around to see how damaged the things he had already gathered were from his earlier fall. Shoulders sinking as he surveyed the smashed contents he shot a glare at the stranger, who was currently standing on tiptoes with his arms crossed trying to see inside the bag.

“Humans used to grovel at our feet, what happened to that? Also is it custom to smash ingredients well before they’re cooked? I’m not caught up with the latest human affairs. Terribly dull, most of them.”

Gritting his teeth Virgil dumped the berries and mushrooms he had collected onto the forest floor, water that had seeped in from the top sloshing out as well and coming out like a weird, thick juice for all the mush everything had turned into. “They only smashed because I fell- something I never do unless someone decides it's a good idea to startle someone who’s trying to balance.”

The man looked unimpressed. “Why were you coming over this way anyway? There should be plenty of the things you were collecting on the other side of the river...and much closer to the nearest village too might I add.”

“Fall makes the pickings slimmer the closer to the village you are. Other people gather, animals eat what ‘s left, sparcer trees means more sun means things ripen and fall faster. I was trying my luck further in.”

“And you came alone?”

“None of your business.” Virgil hauled up the pack and stood. “I’m a tracker so I’m the one that usually gets sent out.”

“Oh really? Must be an expert to come out this late.”

“Sure.” Grunting, Virgil stepped over a rotting log and began pushing his way through bushes.

The man snorted. “Expert tracker- when I could hear you tromping through here from across the forest.”

“Your words not mine. And stop following me, I’m only here to gather ingredients.”

They continued on in silence for a while, the fae following behind him near silently as he kept an eye out for anything edible. The crops had been plentiful this year but berries, nuts and mushrooms weren’t something locally grown, so gatherers routinely went into the forest to search for them to dry for the winter. Fast protein was always welcome in the harsher months when tracking fresh meat became a dangerous chore.

The forest was quiet here, nearly serene if it wasn’t for the fae still following him no matter how harsh a path he took- not that he was having much luck finding easier ones. He imagined he could easily get lost here if he wasn’t careful so he kept an eye on the direction of the shadows and any landmarks he spotted so he couldn’t get turned around. Fair folk were rarely hostile towards travelers as long as you met them on their level and stated your intentions clearly. Most of the time a certain level of sass while only answering them when they were curious served Virgil just fine. Of course, they didn’t normally follow him either but he remained unconcerned so long as the forest didn’t turn hostile. He didn’t think he’d succeeded in pissing the other off that much...hopefully.

It was some time later when Virgil found his cloak snared on a branch as he was struggling to get over a particularly high log. Crawling under it hadn’t been an option so now he was stuck straddling the thing awkwardly with the cloak snagging in one direction and his pants in the other. Blowing out a frustrated breath he startled as the fae appeared a foot from his face, brown eyes searching his green ones as he struggled not to fall backwards for a second time.

“What are you tracking anyway?”

“What?”

“You’re a tracker, so what are you tracking?”

Virgil resumed trying to lift himself enough to get his other leg over without ripping his pants. “Nothing at the moment. Not that, again, it’s any of your business.”

The fae glanced at the dirt under his nails and hummed thoughtfully. “Mushrooms is it?”

Groaning, Virgil sat back down and instead reached behind him to try and tug his cloak free. “Partly.”

Trying and failing to get his cloak untangled he stumbled as his feet found solid ground after dangling for the better part of ten minutes, nearly overbalancing for the third time that day as the fabric went limp in his stranglehold. Looking up he saw the spot on the river bank he had climbed over not ten minutes before with a significantly lighter pack. Confused, he slung it around and peeked inside only to see it nearly overflowing with varieties of mushrooms he had never seen mixed with the more common ones he had found before. Opening his mouth to speak he quickly shut it as a light breeze carried faint laughter through the trees.

“Feel free to thank me later.” A faint voice called.

Looking down again, he carefully closed the pack and looked up at the sky. It was barely encroaching late afternoon...would anyone believe he had gathered these that quickly? Deciding to just say he had gotten turned around and found a good spot if anyone asked he started hiking his way back as slowly as he could. He’d have to find something to offer as thanks when he came back.

-----

“You’re back.”

Virgil shuffled around a low shrub between the trees awkwardly. “Mhm.”

“Do you need more mushrooms?” The fae crouched on a low branch, balancing on his tip toes as he watched Virgil struggle through the underbrush.

“They asked me to come back- ow!” Stumbling away from the bush he knelt down to tear away some thorns sticking out of his pants. “Since I was so successful yesterday they asked me to come back to find more. Among other things.”

“They?”

“People from the kitchens.” He started off in a slightly different direction, seeing sunlight a little ways away and hoping for a clearing.

“What else do you need?”

“A variety of things to dry for the winter. Nothing to concern yourself with. I won’t invade your forest for too long.”

“A shame. My forest is beautiful but I’ve found I enjoy looking at you more.”

Virgil stopped in his tracks as he tried to process the comment. Was this a trick? Some weird fae flirting technique to get his guard down so he gave away his soul? Which reminded him-

“Not because of that comment, but for helping me the other day.” He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a smooth skipping stone, the surface a perfect, uniform pale gray. He knew fairies rarely had use for human materials but things like this could be enchanted or used for entertainment- the more pleasing to the eye the better. “Here. And...thank you.”

The man’s eyes lit up at the sight of the stone, taking it carefully and running his fingers gently over the smooth surface. “For me?”

“Don’t expect it again, I don’t expect anything more from you.” Hoping that would settle it, Virgil continued on in the direction of the clearing. Fae were always tricky to get involved with and with the fall harvests approaching, continuing to speak with one claiming to be a prince wasn’t something he would allow himself to get involved with- at most for the sake of the village and at the very least for his own sanity.

“A pity really.” The fae called from behind him. “I could help you find whatever you need.”

Gritting his teeth, Virgil resisted. “I don’t need any help.”

“Right, expert tracker and all that.” He startled as his pest of a companion appeared in front of him waving a hand dismissively. “This is my forest and I can bend it however it suits me at the moment. Right now it suits me to help you, why won’t you let me?”

“I don’t want to owe you anything. Owing things is a risky business- especially with fae. No offense.”

The fae sniffed indignantly, putting a hand dramatically over his heart. “No offense indeed! I suppose this wound was here before you arrived, it’s fine really.”

Virgil glanced over as the other man draped a hand over his eyes and leaned back slightly, sighing loud and deliberate and trying to disguise the fact he was peeking at his human companion from under his arm. Virgil couldn’t help it- he barked out a laugh he managed to quickly catch with a hand slapped over his mouth. Watching as a wide grin took over the fae’s features he realized he was too late and the damage had been done. He stalked over and jabbed the air in front of Virgil with a perfectly manicured finger.

“You like my company!”

Blinking, Virgil lowered his hand. “Absolutely not!”

“You do! You find me amusing! Dare I say charming!”

Snorting, Virgil readjusted his pack. “Uh-huh. Nothing like a raving lunatic spouting he’s royalty to get the giggle juice flowing.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I believe fae will say anything to strike whatever emotion they want in a human. Whether it be fear or awe, the end goal is always to lead someone astray.”

Glancing over he startled when he saw the other man actually looked a bit hurt at his words, head down and eyes flicking to the side with a tight draw to the lips. A trick...obviously. But one that had him reconsidering his choice of words.

“Look I-”

The fae held up a hand. “It’s okay! I’ll prove it to you! You need mushrooms and berries and the like right?”

“Uh- yeah?” Virgil watched as the fae stepped forward and furrowed his brow in concentration. Bringing his arms up towards the clearing he swung his arms out and up before slouching tiredly.

Virgil squinted against the sunlight shining overhead, looking around in wonder. They were in a large clearing absolutely teeming with enough plantlife to fill his pack ten times over. Dappled shade dominated at least half of the clearing as the sun shone through the bright trees at an angle. Soft grass soothed his aching feet that had previously been treading on nothing but snapping sticks and long-dead leaves. It was beautiful- and glancing over at his companion as bright gold shot through his hair and the sudden calming warmth relaxed him- Virgil could tell he was in his element.

“Did you just use magic in front of me?” He honestly hadn’t thought the fae would go that far to prove a point.

“Watch regular fair folk top that for ability.” the fae mumbled under his breath. Speaking up, he flashed a bright smile and punched a hand lightly onto his hip. “Of course! Got the point across didn’t it? Never seen a fairy bend a forest before?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen a fairy perform any magic before. Usually they keep that to themselves. Honestly none of the good neighbors have paid me any mind before whether I was in their territory or not.”

“Oh.” The fae sputtered uselessly for a moment, fluttering his head to his hair to fidget with the curls. “Well, clearly that’s their loss. Berries, was it?”

Face burning, Virgil nodded mutely and made his way over to a far tree that looked like it promised chestnuts in the higher branches. He never figured having company, however forced upon him it was, would be so nice.

Later, when Virgil’s pack was practically bursting at the seams, he reluctantly turned towards home. The afternoon had been wonderful, gathering enough to make the people in the village happy while listening to the other man as he sang almost like he didn’t realize he was doing it. Rich, low tones filled the clearing with a bright melody that Virgil didn't recognize but found himself humming along to- much to his companions utter delight.

It had surprised him when he began singing popular festival songs after that, thinking that fair folk never bothered much with humans and therefore wouldn’t know many traditional tunes. But when Virgil had started softly singing along, offering a wry grin when the other man had started excitedly bouncing on his toes from having a singing partner he couldn’t bring himself to care. Eventually both of them had started getting louder and louder, swaying along to an invisible beat as they had continued collecting what was needed. Another reason Virgil was reluctant to return to the village for fear their noise had reached ears he’d rather not explain himself to. He found it strange that he felt drawn to stay, stranger still that he didn’t immediately think it was some trick on his companions' part. He just- enjoyed his company and wished he could come into the forest to actually visit rather than just his job. Pressing his lips together he turned around, smiling faintly and gesturing to his back.

“You really didn’t have to help, or keep helping. But thank you again-”

“Roman!” The fairy blurted at his slight pause.

Smirking, Virgil cocked his head to one side. “Aren’t I supposed to give you my name first?”

Roman shuffled slightly. “Yes well, seems a shame that if you were to think of me you’d have no name to give the thoughts.”

“Bold of you to assume I think of you after leaving the woods.”

“How could you not?” Striking a bold pose he sniffed indignantly. “It’d be an insult really, wounding me so deeply.”

Chuckling Virgil turned and started walking away. “I’ll be sure to bring bandages next time.”

“It’s a date, Doom and Gloom!”

“That a promise, Sir Sing-a-lot?”

“If my serenades are what brings you back I shall renounce my princehood and become a siren.”

“Your voice is certainly deadly enough, leads to something prettier though.”

The forest was silent for a moment, before Virgil began walking as quickly as possible without stabbing his feet to the edge of the woods. Why had he said that? Did he mean that? Of course he meant it but why on the gods green earth had he said it? Could he even come back now? Chest tight with nervous anxiety and head swimming he didn't look back as he dashed out of the trees.

Though if he had he would have seen Roman standing stock still, face a mask of shock but slowly splitting into a flustered smile below rapidly reddening cheeks.

-----

When Virgil stepped into the creek the following day, it was without his pack. Early evening sunlight drifted through the trees as a slight breeze ruffled the cloak around his shoulders. Pushing his dark hair away from his eyes he surveyed the banks for any sign of Roman, deflating a bit when he saw none. It was stupid to think he could get away with saying something so forthright without reaping anything but negative consequences. It was just as well he supposed, consorting with fair folk never led to anything good after all. He had just- hoped this would be different.

Fair folk and humans rarely mixed well, platonic or not, and once he found his soulmate he was doubtful they would enjoy the thought of fraternizing so casually with one of the good neighbors- especially one as powerful as Roman appeared to be. If he knew anything of the fae it was that one didn't just casually bend an entire forest to their will with so little effort by themselves. Sighing, he turned to leave, feet missing the wispy grass of the clearing as they crunched through dead leaves.

“Going so soon?” Whirling around he was met with a charming smile, Roman balancing on a rock in the middle of the creek with a hip thrust out cockily.

“I thought- I didn’t think you’d come back around.”

“If you were trying to get me to leave, your methods are wanting my friend.” Roman squinted at him curiously. “No pack today?”

Virgil shuffled a bit before answering. “I- just wanted to see you.”

Blinking in surprise, Roman smiled warmly. “What an honor it is that our wants should align. Care to join me?”

Face burning, Virgil was quick to hop to the first rock, finding his balance easily. Keeping his head down he stepped from rock to slippery rock, finally getting close to where he assumed Roman would be. Looking up however, he didn’t expect to be quite as close as he had gotten, vision suddenly filled with deep brown eyes surrounded by flaming red curls. Yelping he tipped backwards, arms reaching forward in a desperate attempt to not repeat their first meeting even as he prepared to go home soaking once again.

To his surprise, the riverbed never rose to meet him, instead finding himself surrounded by the scent of wildflowers and moss in the most comforting embrace he’d ever been in. Virgil tilted his face up when he heard Roman gasp in wonder, his own eyes widening in disbelief as he leaned back to take in their surroundings. Colorful sparks seemed to catch the evening sunset as they bounced off and around them, falling like stars imbued with the colors of the sky and sizzling as they hit the water only to be immediately replaced by ten more.

Leaning back but still catching each other’s arms they watched as the sparks continued to fly around them in a frenzied shower, dimming the already fading sun itself in their wake. Virgil watched as the light caught itself in Roman’s eyes, flecking the brown with golds and brilliant reds and deep purples. Seeing his face literally light up in amazement and wonder, Virgil couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle, then tilting his head back and laughing out loud.

“What- why are you laughing?” Receiving no answer, Roman grinned uncertainly. “Do I have something on my face?”

Shaking his head, Virgil stifled another bout of laughter to answer. “I’ve never seen the sparks of soulmates before. Are they supposed to be this dramatic or is it just because of you?”

Smile turning more genuine and laughing himself, Roman let go of his arms and instead wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted, twirling them around with a sure step even as the water splashed around his feet. Setting him down gently, he rested his forehead against Virgil and held him as close as he could.

“Maybe both- knowing me, probably more of the latter. Do you really mind?”

The sparks were dying down as the sky darkened and yet to Virgil his companion still stood bright enough that he feared nothing the darkness could threaten him with. Leaning impossibly closer he touched Roman’s nose to his own and smiled softly.

“Absolutely not.”

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#false writes #sanders sides #soulmate september #ts soulmate september #prinxiety #virgil sanders #roman sanders #fae roman sanders #fairy prince roman sanders #tw food mention #my writing

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urupotter · 3 years

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So while I've said before that I don't like the HP subreddit, I still frequent it because occasionally I read something insightful. This is one such case, where I read a reading of Lupin that I'd never seen before in response to a comment of mine analyzing the shrieking shack confrontation between Snape, Remus, Sirius and the golden trio, where I mentioned that Lupin was a gaslighter so I wanted to share. It was created by reddit user u/UsuallySiSometimesNo and is posted here with his permission. We had a little conversation in the comments. Read it under the cut

UsuallySiSometimesNo: That struck a cord with me, too. I didn't think about that on a conscious level before, but when I read it, it felt instantly true.

Honestly, I think the strongest examples of Lupin gaslighting are actually done to himself. The biggest, character-defining example, I think, is that after finding friendship with James, Sirius, and Peter, he becomes so desperate not to be ostracized from them (due to his issues of self-worth and his personal brand of impostor syndrome) that he deliberately and routinely feeds himself false narratives about their behavior until he can no longer tell fact from fiction, even as he's experiencing it.

Their relentless bullying of Snape? A childhood rivalry.

Their casual bullying of other students? Kids being young and stupid.

Their clear disinterest verging on contempt for Peter, someone less fortunate and vulnerable with whom they're supposed to be good friends? Just mates being mates.

Even actions taken against Lupin, himself, are revised in his memory to be 'no big deal', because he desperately needs that to be true. Let's pretend for a moment that Snape indisputably deserved to be slaughtered by a werewolf the night Sirius told him how to get past the Whomping Willow. Sirius did not send Snape to be killed by any old werewolf. What happened that night was that Sirius - one of Remus' best friends, if not his actual best friend - attempted to use Remus' curse/illness against someone (which is a big enough betrayal on it's own) without ever telling Remus that when he woke up in the morning (covered in blood and in the presence of a shredded corpse) it would be to find that he had committed the act he was most petrified he might one day commit. In setting Snape up to be killed by Lupin, Sirius, at the very least, risked Lupin's sanity, and, at the very most, risked Lupin being sentenced to death.

Now, I understand that Sirius wasn't thinking about all of that when he did what he did, and I, as a someone removed from the situation (and armed with the additional character/situational knowledge granted to a reader) can even understand why Sirius' own trauma led him to grant such a blind death sentence to Snape (which I think is related to a point you made elsewhere, u/Adventure_Time_Snail, about Sirius' "violence towards those who trigger his fundamental fear of wizard fascists" because of his abusive upbringing). But Lupin's perspective is not one of an unbiased observer. And once James found out what was happening and pulled Snape back before it was too late (which, I would think, was more to save Lupin than to save Snape) and once Remus awoke the next to day to discover everything that transpired the night before, I find it hard to believe there wasn't at least some conversation about the true gravity of the situation. And yet, even all these years later, Lupin doesn't bat an eye when Sirius not only doesn't display shame when the event is mentioned in POA, but offers something akin to regret, NOT at the fact that his actions could have gotten Lupin killed, but that that they DIDN'T get Snape killed: "It served him right...", he sneered. etc. etc.

I think the obvious question here, is 'Even disregarding what Sirius did to Snape - how can Lupin be okay with the knowledge that Sirius has no regret, at all, for what he did to him, even now that they're adults?' Well, we're not in Lupin's point of view in the books, which means we can't hear his internal monologue, but I think a satisfactory answer to the question is that he's done a substantial amount of internal gymnastics in order to get to a point where he doesn't see this as a big deal, or even as something that he has a right to be upset about.... just like a gaslighter does to their victim.

Again, because we're not in Lupin's POV, we can't point to the exact instances that such internal gaslighting took place, but, based on what we do observe from Harry's POV (and based on external knowledge of gaslighting as a true-to-life concept) I wouldn't be surprised if Lupin so desperately needs everything to be okay that he derides himself for feeling bad or betrayed, that he calls himself stupid for thinking terrible things that have happened to him are a big deal, that he wars with himself about how people who are his friends and who are so good to him and who are better friends than he thinks he deserves could possibly do something to harm him/others, and that he beats down whatever emotions and senses and gut feelings he has that tells him something his friends have done might be very wrong. What we see in the books is a man who makes excuses for his friends and harbors a warped perception of reality in much the same way victims of gaslighting do, and he seems to exploit his own insecurities in order to instill doubt in his own experiences in much the same way perpetrators of gaslighting do.

I can't help but think that, by the time Lupin tells Harry that Snape harbors a particularly strong hatred for James because James was a better Quidditch player, Lupin has become so adept at gaslighting himself that he actually believes it.

tl;dr: One of Lupin's defining characteristics is that he gaslights himself out of a desperate need to be liked by others, since he has a difficult time liking himself and seems to believe all of his relationships are incredibly fragile.

Urupotter:

This is a fascinating reading on Lupin that I've never seen. I don't read him the same way, in that I think Lupin actually does know that what he's doing is wrong, he just doesn't have the moral courage to act on his conscience. (I view him as the anti Snape, great conscience, but abysmal moral courage, while Snape had unbelievable moral courage but a shitty conscience. Their arcs are about growing their moral courage and their conscience respectively) Realizing that his negligence almost got Harry killed is what triggers his arc, concluding when he goes back to Tonks and Teddy after running away, taking responsibility for his actions for the first time.

But this reading is so interesting that I'll have to reflect on it. Do you mind if I post it on my Harry Potter tumblr blog? I'll credit you of course, I would just like to discuss it with my followers. Of course if you don't want to I won't.

UsuallySiSometimesNo:

Honestly, I think the lack of in-depth conversation about Remus Lupin (at least compared to fan favorites Sirius Black and Severus Snape) is a missed opportunity and a shame. Don't get me wrong, I can discuss Sirius and Snape until blue in the face, but Lupin's arc is just as powerful in an understated (and often underestimated) way. The muddy, oversimplified truth is, without the fatal-flaw decision making of all four Marauders throughout their lives, the series of events proceeding the first chapter of the first book don't happen, and the story we all know and love never comes to be.

And speaking of sparking a discussion about Lupin...

I think Lupin actually does know that what he's doing is wrong, he just doesn't have the moral courage to act on his conscience.

You know what? I agree. And that's what makes him so interesting, I think. He is constantly and dependably full to bursting with internal conflict. When his friends are wrong/do something wrong/say something wrong, he can and does immediately identify the situation as wrong. When he does something wrong, or when he does nothing in the face of something wrong, in that moment I believe he knows the full weight of the situation. Like you said, he has a strong conscience, as well as a deeper, perhaps more nuanced understanding of right and wrong than do, for example, James and Sirius. Now, Lupin needs his friends. They're not just people to hang out with, they're a lifeline for him. He's not going to engage in conflict with them if there is even the slightest chance that he might lose them (for a variety of reasons, he lacks, as you said, the moral courage to do so). But he's also a generally decent human being, and with a strong conscience comes the capacity for sincere guilt and remorse. So, not only will he not confront his friends, he needs it to be okay that he doesn't confront them. And it's at that point that I think the self gaslighting is triggered.

But Lupin is intelligent and nobody's fool, so the gaslighting creates only a thin layer of ice over the problem. Just enough of a cover that he can live with the things he would otherwise deeply regret. I do think he believes the alternative reality he makes for himself to be accurate as long as it isn't really challenged. Crack the ice, though, and we see him express remorse and reveal an underlying awareness of past and present truths. But then the moment is over, and the war between the uncomfortably and full weight of the truth and his need for the companionship of his friends returns, and then the gaslighting begins again, allowing him an easier return to his closest friends (and eventually his closest friend, singular, after the others have been taken from him as was his fear all along) without conflict and with minimal strain on his conscience.

Once Sirius, the last of his original chosen family is gone - truly gone, as opposed to 'located elsewhere' as he was when in prison - following OOtP, suddenly Lupin's arc takes off at a greater speed than at any point prior. He's now literally lost all of the people he'd been terrified of figuratively losing. Although there are still people and things he cares about, he isn't as dependent on any of them as he was on those foundational friendships, and the finality of their absence allows him to finally grow beyond his stifling cycle of reality shifting, confront the truths of his reality and his circumstances, and, as you said, finally take responsibility by returning to Tonks and Teddy - a decision that, ultimately, triggers his death (I don't mean to imply that it was a bad decision or that it's the sole cause of his death, but Rowling has said that being 'out of practice' contributed to his loss at the Battle of Hogwarts, which makes for a fantastic tragedy).

I don't mean to overstate the importance of this theory or imply that it's always present when he's on-stage, and, as with anyone, many other elements, of course, factor into his actions/words/motives. But I think it's a fascinating potential component of his character all the same. If you have more thoughts on this, I love to hear them - and I look forward to reading the discussion on your blog!

So what do you think? Is this a valid reading of Lupin? I'd say it is, but I'm interested in reading my followers thoughts!

#remus lupin #lupin #severus snape #sirius black #moony #padfoot #the marauders #marauders #harry potter #hp #mwpp

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mypersonmyg · 3 years

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Tebori Tapioca | JJK

**beautiful banner made by @monvante <3

pairing: Jeongguk x reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, love at first sight, tattoo au, tea shop au

wc: 15k

warnings: language, slow burn???

summary: a shining beacon in a sea of monotony OR you just might believe in love at first sight

a/n: hi friends, umm so yea this is a fic i’ve been cooking up for a while and as seems to happen with most of my fics there’s definitely room for more but i didn’t wanna go overboard because the last time i did no one read womp womp...

ANYWHO there’s still very much room for this universe to grow whether it be drabbles, smaller oneshots or whatever so if you have requests pls send them !! for this au or any others

honorary tag: @gukssunshine

masterlist

Sunlight filters through an open storefront, natural light shading the room in incandescent glow, the honk of horns just overstating the chirp of the birds perched in overarching trees that line the street. Lights are still lit, strung throughout branches despite the hour slowly inching toward noon.

Your pencil taps a worn pad, the hundredth rotation of the dormant rectangle of sheets providing no more inspiration than ninety-nine and below. You shove the contents along a desk littered in your crumpled defeat, legs kicking to the wooden surface with comforting intent.

It’s not unusual, the stray of your eyes to the shop just a few buildings from the florist decorating the opposing side of the street. A work in progress, a work almost in completion. It’s become a game, the guessing of its contents, the colorful display before it’s displayed intriguing to many passersby. You’re close to pondering a new theory when Jimin interrupts with his entrance from the back, reciting safety to Namjoon’s latest masterpiece.

He whistles an impressive tune following the departure of a satisfied client, rounding his occupied desk and knocking your feet from his cluttered surface. You don’t have time for the countered glare of offense before his words are zeroed in as if he’s been waiting to direct them long before now when your guard is readily disarmed. “You have an office for a reason, why do you always have to sit at my desk.”

“It’s a nice view.”

“I’ll admit that my delicate features leave nothing to the imagination, but I’m tired of cleaning up after you.” His words are emphasized by his hand’s routine swipe, piles of paper tumbling to the can beside him in rapid succession. Your eyes roll, Jimin’s fingers already beginning to type away on his desktop while your pupils track the delicate arch of his digits and your ears listen to the satisfying click of keys. The consideration of locking yourself away in your office trapezes along the wide expanse of your mind, but before it’s made up Jimin is speaking again, this time with an air of factual superiority. “A tea shop.”

“Hmm?”

“The shop down the street, it’s a tea shop.”

“You sound pretty confident,” You hum, eyes darting to the window, turquoise staring back in the fashion of awnings and fresh paint bordering a wooden frame. The sleeves of your sweater bite at your wrist in comforting fuzz, a slight itch along the skin to pull you from quaint interest. “What makes you so sure?”

“Just a feeling, it’s got that certain ambiance, you know?” Jimin’s hands wave with the impression of the ambiance so to speak, his eyes squinted in that way you so adore. The thought crosses your mind on many occasions, to compliment his subtle beauty, but the knowledge of his playfully arrogant counter always draws you from speech.

“Or because we ran into the owner on our way in this morning,” Namjoon chirps in kind, strolling to the lobby, his own pad in hand. He neatly tosses it to the desk, fingers skimming through unkempt hair. “Nice guy, said he might drop in for a consultation sometime.”

“Consultation? Sounds big,” You muse, hand finding your abandoned pencil to drag faint strokes along your page, though even the slight draw brings grimace to your features, dulled in the shadow of your palm pressed to your forehead, easily nudging wisps of loose hair. Namjoon shrugs, a non-committal range of motion, his neck craning over your shoulder to sneak a peek at your lack of a work of art.

He doesn’t speak on it, simply taking in the unfinished strokes, presumably in an attempt to reassure you in the midst of inspiration long lost. You're prepared to assure him that there’s no need for forced encouragement, but he moves on, collapsing onto near plush without a word.

“Says he’s been thinking about it for a while so I told him we could help him out. He also invited us to his opening, said he'd save some tea for us if we’re busy.” Lips pull back, dimples accenting Namjoon’s heavy cheeks.

You’re unsurprised by his amicable tale, recalling your fresh steps into this very shop just a few years prior. Your body was bare of ink and your arms bore only a flimsy book with hopeful sketches. He’d taken in your wide eyed glance and the disappearance of your bottom lip to the gnawing confines of your teeth. His towering height and newly trimmed hair taunting you within the daunting shadow that filled your frame through the doorway.

You chuckle at past memories, wondering how you could ever fear the gentle giant, his lips pulling into ready grin as he showed you to the very desk before you now.

“What’s so funny?” Namjoon calls to you, Jimin halting in his current endeavor to glance the smirk stretching your cheek.

“Nothing, just thinking. Was that your last client for the day?” You grab for the sign-in ledger, finger trailing the thick page, pinky tugging at the pulled edge of a worn corner. Your smirk flips to a frown poorly withheld, the page filled with Namjoon only reminding you that your own supplies need only be sanitized to prevent the collection of dust.

“Yeah, I figured we’d just close shop early today.” Jimin swipes the ledger with a tisk in your direction, not blind to silent thoughts.

“It’s noon, what if someone wants a walk-in?” Your gaze slides to the clock, hands ticking slowly along the round wall piece. It’s not unreasonable to assume someone will come in seeking art of the bodily variety, and your hands itch to prove your worth, even if it lies within an album long binded.

“Then I’m sure they’ll still want it tomorrow.” Namjoon shrugs, his hands folding over his chest forcing the bulge of recently buffed arms. You almost make a joke about the possible tear of the t-shirt hugging his frame, but refrain out of refusal to partake in the pursuance of sure to follow antics. “Besides, it’ll give you more time to work on that.”

You follow the tilt of Namjoon’s hair, long grown out from his routine refusal to take time from his day to get a trim. You often joke that he’ll be gallivanting with a tail soon enough, his thick locks nearly shoulder length as it stands. He often finds himself shaking it from his peripheral with the wrong angling of his head. He motions to your barely done sketch, the page glaring at you with a mocking disgust.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do.” You drip sarcasm, pad tossed to your bag and jacket jerked to waiting arms.

~*~

Off-white trim borders the wall of a shop nearly complete, Jeongguk checks and double checks a list stored in the confines of his mental. Aside from constant fear of the opening of doors without the steady flood of patrons he’s eager for business, hard work finally paying its due.

He’s only in for the morning, the steady tick of his wrist a reminder to snap from his obsessive habit, sure that he’ll receive word from Taehyung that he's on his way to drag him from the building. His grin rivals the glare of the sun as his eyes travel a building come together. His hand falls to his arm in dramatic pinch to ensure that his eyes aren’t filled with hopeful deceit.

It fits, he thinks, stepping out onto the walk, key slotting into the door to ensure security. His shop melds perfectly with the heavily lined street, animated tapioca unfinished in the window somehow making sense with the neighboring extravagance of bloom at the near florist and the samples of ink from the tattoo shop across the way. Even the simple thrift shop with it’s objects of interest decorating the window compliments his simple display.

Opportunity hasn’t struck to visit his new neighbors, though he did stumble into a chunk of the owners of one of the shops. He found surprise in the ease with which conversation flowed, his mouth like the babble of a brooke despite the nerves that skipped like pebbles in his stomach and his heart that beat a million miles a minute following their friendly departure.

In his stupor he nearly misses the float of voices a ways down the quietly milling street, but the recognition of a melodic tone draws his gaze.

“I’ll take you for ice cream.” Jeongguk recognizes the voice that seeks to entice as Jimin, though he doesn’t recognize you.

“I’m not a child you know.” Your statement is grumbled, the words echoing that of a childlike pout. Jeongguk can see the movement of your arms as they reach to a playful shove, the rhythmic shift of Jimin’s feet looking routine even from a distance. You choose not to acknowledge Jimin’s coo, his fingers poking at your protruding cheek as if to say Oh but aren’t you?

Jeongguk watches with interest and the initiative to work up the courage to bring acknowledgement to his presence and perhaps introduction to who he expects is the other third of the tattoo shop. You and Jimin are too caught in bickering to notice the figure just feet away, your fingers pinching Jimin’s nose with a countering taunt.

“Can’t I just treat you to a nice frozen treat? I don’t recall that being a crime, but please enlighten me.” You pinch the bridge of your own nose, the scent of freshly packed soil wafting from neatly situated pots.

You spot the poke of pink from one of the tall and timid plants, though you imagine the fragile nature is only by way of visual, Yoongi always diligent with his seedling evolved friends. You make note to beg him to allow the purchase of a precarious plant, an act of teasing to stem from your track record, the memory of shriveled begonias bringing even your shoulders to lift in cringe.

“Are you still talking?” Your gaze shifts back to Jimin, his flow not conscious to your unconscious senses.

“So rude, you should be thanking me for the extra time off.”

“As if I need more time off, but fine, I suppose I can let you treat me as an apology for your ratty transgressions.” You tut. Were your ears peaked and footing less strayed you would’ve noted the distant chuckle of Jeongguk, still standing dormant outside of a dimmed shop.

His thoughts of hurried introduction came to halt with his notice of you. Your voice held a playful jab when you spoke, Jimin’s reactions only animated enough to draw slight attention from your raised tone. Despite your fussing dialogue, your posture was slouched just a tad and your hands fisted into snug jacket sleeves to mimic paws. Jeongguk decides he’d be hard pressed not to be endeared by you in the slightest.

“Wow, I thought I was gonna have to come here and drag you out by the ears.” Hands clap Jeongguk’s shoulders, Taehyung rounding his frame, grin gentle as he regards with relief. “I swear you’d probably live here if I didn’t keep you at bay. What are you--oh she’s pretty.”

The two watch your retreat, your hand easily clasping Jimin's, the swing of connected wrists appearing natural with your stride through the afternoon chill. Jeongguk ignores the flare of his cheeks at the notion of exposure, thankful that Taehyung doesn’t make a show of his ogling.

“Yeah, looks like she’s taken though...you wanna get ice cream?” Taehyung scrunches his nose, wind kissed cheeks held between gloved palms. His scoff is inward, Jeongguk’s suggestion appearing nothing short of ridiculous as the two are swept by a wind that’s particularly biting. While Taehyung shivers, Jeongguk doesn’t appear to mind, hands shoved in his pockets, heels rocking along cracked concrete.

“Do I look like I want to get ice cream? It’s freezing out here and not everyone radiates the warmth of a furnace.”

“Well unlike you, not everyone is so dramatic.”

“Whatever, just get some when we get home.” Taehyung lightly shoves, legs turning in the direction of his car, parked on asphalt, freshly coated by summer’s end.

Jeongguk stares after the winded trail of a billowing pea, your bobbing figure rounding a corner and straying from widened eyes. He sucks through clenched teeth, opportunities knock having been missed at the hands of Taehyung. The clench of fists in pockets goes unnoticed as he rounds on planted heels and makes his way to the car, Taehyung happily staring from the passenger seat waiting with a grin dripping sincerity.

“You definitely owe me for this.”

~*~

You twitch along with the consistent drip of a leaky faucet, the tap of digits on worn ceramic offering a release to limbs without proper use. The biting chill in your toes is only minutely cured by the pilling of four blankets, barely thick enough to rival the wool knit socks Hoseok gifted you last christmas.

You find pause in the sun setting from the window, dim lighting pouring through weak curtains. Your tongue prods at the confines of your mouth, frosted by forced treat and abandoned with the recommendation of a mug of hot cocoa which now rests lukewarm in your clenching palms.

You force your mind to yield, racing in a direction opposite the self destructive course that usually remains dormant until you lay to rest for the evening. Hands numbed by the interference of a numbing chill met with the warmth of a mostly empty mug nearly spilling when your right palm jumps in the direction of your phone, perched on an end table composed of chipping wood and stains too set to resemble anything but a dark pool, a picture puddle fit for galoshes in adolescence.

You wonder if Yoongi’s taken his plants in, the set of cold not nearly the condition for any pending life surely. Though you quickly pull back, recalling a conversation following another mishap, your plant lying limp before the attentive florist, his cheeks rosy from the heat lamps and the temperature set to ensure maximum growth year round. It was with passion that he waxed about the difference between certain plants and the amazing circumstances of their survival.

It was with half amused grin, your head lopsided along the freshly painted door frame that he assured you that if a plant can survive the harsh conditions of the season of cool there was surely one meant to survive you.

You glance to the succulent placed on the sill overlooking your sink. You had been indignant at Yoongi’s insistence that you take it, almost begging that he give you one of the smiling pink numbers reflecting in the window rather than the less impressive green poking from the dirt of a tiny hand painted pot. Yoongi’s reaction was much the same, innocence painting his rose blushed cheeks as he explained the beauty of every plant, sure to continue on until you gently removed the pot from his fingers.

Now the once shy note of green was large enough to cover your palm, a bright spot in the dark of your apartment, falling apart at the hands of purposeful ignorance from an absent landlord.

A sharp tap against your front door draws your gaze, pointed as if to break the barrier of solid wood. You don’t notice the spill of your drink until warmth slips through your sweater, arm jerk sending the mug careening to shatter. The pieces decorate the floor with a colorful tap to pair with the running of dark liquid along the hardwood.

“Shit.” Words muttered in haste, one of many blankets piled in swaddle is heaved to the floor, your legs lifting you from the chair and gently to clothed knees. Cocooning the glass in the thick material you stand to full height when another tap draws you. Your hands tug at your sweater, the seep of the liquid already beginning to set in and your skin grows irritated from the unwanted intrusion. “Coming!”

You glance to the spot where chocolate dances along the edges of your braided rug, the centerpiece itching to soak up what it can manage of the chocolatey drink, already dreading the work of scrubbing to prevent permanent damage. Making your way to the door your feet stride in a half walk half slide along hardwood, tripping up due to the soiled bits of fabric sticking to your feet and resisting a usually easy trek along the hardwood. The pull of the door is a surprise, an unfamiliar face staring back at you with a geometrically flattering smile.

“Hello…” Your words are drawn and rasped, a mixture of the lack of dialogue and settling curiosity.

“Hi, I’m Taehyung.” There’s no deterrence from Taehyung at your lack of reciprocated enthusiasm, just the shake of locks, shaggy and shielding his eyes that appear to glisten in the flicker of the hall lights. His eyes brighten in recognition, though you can’t seem to separate his stare from the reflection of his shocking irises and simply accept his hand as it slowly extends.

“Y/n. Is there something I can help you with?” You attempt a glance around his ever present frame in hope for an explanation, but the notion is non-existent so you wait as he gathers his own. You don’t miss the wandering of his eyes to the open of your apartment but don’t call him on it, an entrance composed of nothing more than a table and a crooked portrait gifted by Jin. You can hear his distant cackles as he positioned it just perfectly before the door.

“Actually I was gonna ask you how to work the heat in this place, but you look about as warm as me so…” He shifts on his heels unsure, taking in your heavily bundled appearance.

You tug once more at your stained sweater, your face heating with recollection of the soiled garment still clinging to you, now with more fervor from the added moisture. Your thick socks are layered over a pair only slightly less so and your legs appear heavily padded under two pairs of dense sweats. “You must be new here.”

Taehyung shrugs, half a step taken in retreat. He tilts his head just so, gesturing to the vacant hall, a door half ajar allowing the flood of light to illuminate the peel of ancient wallpaper. Not for the first time you wish you’d taken Jimin up on his spare room. “Yeah, just officially moved in today. We’re down the hall, heard the apartment’s been vacant for a while and it seemed nice enough.”

“But no one told you that the heat only works correctly on a good day, sounds about right.”

“And our shower--”

“Leaks?” You finish, the distant drip from your kitchen just audible over your speech. Your thumb pushes against the bow of your pursed lips, teeth grabbing hold of roughened skin whilst you watch the turn of cogs tumbling before you.

“Yeah...should I call the landlord?” His brows knit at your nonchalance, thumb jerking to his apartment. You almost chuckle, covering your outburst with a quick tilt of your head. The simplicity of the suggestion seems only to add to the hilarity of the situation.

“Sure, but I’d recommend investing in a space heater and keeping a couple of tools handy. I’m not wearing four layers to make a fashion statement.” Your fingers drum along the frame of your door, the gentle tap carrying between you in soft silence. “Well...welcome to the building and sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

“Guess someone had to be,” His throat clears in chuckle, hand tugging at the sleeve of his hoodie, the strings hanging lopsided where his hood lay half scrunched at the base of his neck. His thumb lifts to trace the corner of his mouth, shifted in that same grin that greeted you minutes prior, though this time your return is swift and without the same haze that accompanied his unfamiliar presence. “Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

Taehyung turns on his heel at the pace of the gears turning in his brain, swift stride carrying him back to his door, yours clicking shut along the shells of his ears. He pushes into his residence, door squeaking on hinges as it closes in his wake. Straight for the living room he makes haste with lengthy stride, spotting Jeongguk who swallows the couch with his body, spread as much as the lengthened cushion will allow. He peeks from his curtain of hair, dangling at the angle of his head, blinking with the poke of a follicle gently prodding his pupil.

“So?” He pushes up to a sit, nearly knocking his phone from the arm where it’s perched without care. His shoulders shake from the mix of cold and anticipation, mistaking the grin that Taehyung sports as a triumphant mission.

“Oh this place is spectacularly shitty, my friend. Looks like we’ll be snuggling like penguins if we wanna get warm tonight.” As if to punctuate his vivid explanation, Taehyung slides dangerously close to where Jeongguk remains sitting, legs brushing as he sinks into the already heated seat.

Jeongguk nudges to the sharp of Taehyung’s shoulder, encouraging him further inward with a defeated groan. He’s sure he catches the scent of something similar to carpet that’s been left to mildew, but he attributes it to imagination. Somehow this very apartment seemed a saving grace just a month ago. “I knew we should’ve splurged on that loft. Why are you smiling?”

“Hm, so that girl that you were staring at earlier, you know her?” Taehyung doesn’t shy from his urge to throw himself over Jeongguk’s lap, ignoring the squint scrutiny from above. He pokes at the underside of Jeongguk’s chin, teasing a reaction from him, grimace evident from the suction of his cheeks.

“Not exactly, I know the guy she was with though. They own the tattoo shop, why?” Taehyung braces his head with one hand, the other grabbing hold of the string dangling from his clothes, rolling the aglet between agile fingers. He ponders the thought of revealing that just beyond moth eaten wallpaper and the cracks of a concrete hall you await just a few doors down.

“Just a question. You didn’t think I would just leave it, did you?” Jeongguk’s nose scrunches because he did in fact find that avenue favorable among the chosen. Taehyung pats his muscled thigh with a patronizing shake of the head, hair already tangling with the push of his heavy skull to Jeongguk’s tough jeans.

“So what, she’s cute, not like I know anything about her. I’m more concerned with making it through the night without contracting pneumonia or risking the complete freeze of my limbs.”

The two seem to scoot closer at the thought, Taehyung now pushed against Jeongguk’s abdomen. They paint quite a picture on their second hand furniture, couch in need of stitching at the seams and the questionable stain that inhabited it upon arrival nipping at the press of Taehyung’s socked feet into the cushion.

Fatigue abandoned the task of unloading boxes that litter the expanse of open flooring and leftover furniture. Their energy fueled endeavor long forgotten along with the memory of comforting warmth. They both ponder the idea of retreating to respective rooms, but find it would be a miracle if they could manage to pull themselves from half comfort, abandoning the hope of body heat against the chill of the shared space.

Audible groan travels the four walls when a gentle fist beats against the door. Taehyung shoves at Jeongguk’s shoulder, a silent appeal to the younger to make sacrifice and leave their cocooned warmth. Jeongguk won’t be swayed, his arms easily finding the weight of Taehyung’s side and nudging enough to send him careening to the floor with a resounding thud.

Grumbles and groans of the incoherent leave Taehyung’s mouth, amused giggles falling from Jeongguk whose legs are now pulled to drink in the heat left behind. Taehyung stops for a moment, thinking that his timely trek was wasted, opposing party’s fist meeting wood no more. He gently opens the door, head ducking around the corner, foot stepping out only to stub into something surely placed for such an occasion as his physical reckoning.

He foregoes subtly, mouth unhinging and curses falling akin to rocks from a cliff side, the echo bouncing against concrete and soaking into the slips and edges of the silent walls. Jeongguk ambles around the corner with concern etched features, the draw of his eyes landing on his roommate, leg at an angle and clutched whilst he leans against the doorframe.

Jeongguk squeezes past, kneeling to pluck the sticky posted from the top of what appears to be a space heater. His eyes scan the crisp note, glancing down the hall with the knowledge that the perpetrator is surely long gone. “Dude, you good?”

“Stubbed my fucking toe,” Taehyung strains. Jeongguk let’s him sulk, hiding a purposeful grin from the dramatist leaning over him. “What is that anyways.”

“Space heater.” He passes the note, Taehyung scans it quickly with a hum. He doesn’t miss the look he’s receiving from Jeongguk, aware of the name scribbled along the tiny parchment. “Was nice of them. What did you say anyways?”

“Nothing really, guess I’m just a natural charmer.”

~*~

“Will you tell her that she should just move in with me like I suggested in the first place?” Jimin snags on the thick of Namjoon’s t-shirt, pulling him from his task, resituating his glasses along his face rather than the slide to the tip of his nose that seemed a regular occurance. You choose to ignore the commotion, back to sweeping dust and scattered leaves from the entrance of the shop.

Your living situation, less than ideal, often leads you to Jimin’s door, his spare room rather drenched in your deposited belongings. It’s his futile mission to persuade you to trade up from your desolate one bedroom with it’s desperate calling for tlc and take permanent residence in his humble abode just uptown.

It’s foolish not to consider, but you always find the scrape of your teeth roughening the budded surface of your tongue when he turns to you with his grin of sweet saccharine nearly once a week. You don’t know what it is about the cracks that seem to shimmy further up the walls with each passing minute or the breaks in the tile that beg an earthquake decades off, but you aren’t quite ready to part with it.

“If you want me to stop coming over just say so,” You huff, fully aware that’s not the case but sure it’ll throw Jimin for a curve with enough distance to keep him at bay.

He sputters, releasing Namjoon with a gentle shove, “That’s not it and you know it! I just don’t see why you stay there, it’s so...broken.”

“I’ll have you know that I-”

“Have lived there since you came here blah blah blah, we know. Oh hey, a customer! Would you look at that,” Jimin’s over enthused response following a set of feet flooding through draws your next words to thin air, replaced with a well meaning grin. His perked posture slumps when he realizes that it is not in fact a patron looking to empty their wallet. “Oh, it’s just Hobi-hyung.”

“Thanks for the sunshine,” Hoseok counters, elbows covered with a patched overcoat resting along the edge of Jimin’s desk. Though his words hold a tinge of sarcasm, he’s all smiles as he regards you. Much like Namjoon he sports his frames today, wide and rectangular perched along the bridge of his nose. From the opening of his coat you smirk at the peak of a bright yellow sweater, an animation practically dancing along the expanse of his chest.

“Guess it’s a good thing that’s your job,” Namjoon pats him on his way to his office, returning with a box overflowing with garments and books. It’s not unusual that the two of them exchange goods, Hoseok’s thrift always looking for ways to fill the shelf.

It surprised you in the beginning, the flow of people who seemed to always leave his shop holding something to their chest like it was the world stuffed into a novelty bag. That was before Hoseok insisted that you visit yourself, sure you’d find something of interest. He wasn’t perturbed by skepticism, it only seemed to fuel the glint of a thousand galaxies that flared in his concentrated stare.

You’d ambled the lot for a good thirty minutes, fingers gliding along shelves so sturdy it came as a shock that he installed them himself, the wiggle of his elongated fingers when you recited the thought still fresh. It was the belief of Hoseok, in his own words, that there was a magic in places like his. A magnetic pull that would lead you to just the thing you need, often times things he himself didn’t even know he possessed.

“The rest is all in good fun,” He’d finished with that smile that rivaled the shine of the largest star glistening from above.

Your magic was nestled in the thick of it all, buried beneath someone else’s waiting fortune. It was the far corner that drew you, something about it just a shade darker than the rest of the large room. You’re unsure what possessed you, ignoring the insistence of magic cycling through the heavy air conditioning as you pillage through a pile of neatly folded quilts and the random placement of a busted stereo.

“Find something?” Hoseok appeared, head resting just over your shoulder. Your crouch betrayed you and were it not for quick reflexes and a helping hand the bust of your ass was sure to find the floor. Hoseok stood with a pool of change shaking in his palm and his neat smile waiting for you to putter around with your find.

“It’s just a necklace, nothing special.”

“Still, take it, you never know.” He was insistent that you leave with the silver chain, an onyx pendant dangling from the end and even more so that, rather than pay him, you admit that there’s something in the air. You agreed, but your reluctance was only truly squashed when you found yourself adorning the necklace more than your usual jewelry reserved for occasion.

“Hey, did you guys hear about the tea shop opening up?” Hoseok plants himself on Jimin’s desk, ignoring the playful glare burning a hole in his side. Namjoon rests the box on the ground next to him with a grunt, clear on Hoseok’s intention to linger as long as time will allow rather than collecting his treasure and hurrying back to his own place of work.

“Jimin and I met the owner yesterday, he seems like a really nice guy.” Namjoon fills before Jimin has the chance to allow his jaw to unhinge, no doubt planning to flaunt his basic knowledge like privileged information.

“That’s nice. Rumor has it he specializes in boba.” You would chuckle were it not for the wild look in Hoseok’s eyes, his hands painting imaginary rainbow before slotting through the pockets of his coat. His feet steadily tap tap against the tile, the gentle nod of his head not at all unusual but nonetheless intriguing. “It’ll be so nice not having to drive a town over just to have a nice tapioca pearl.”

“You know they sell those, you could make your own.” Your words are all but lost on the eccentric businessman, his tactic to avoid information displeasing to his interests taking full effect. His body angles, half hiding a chuckling Jimin from your view. Sliding the broom to the near closet, not unaware of leaves sadly crumpled against the tile from Hoseok’s timely entrance, but not bothered enough to scoop them into the waiting bin, you make haste to your office slipping between the door slightly ajar. “Right. Well I’m gonna go try to get some work done.”

You release a stuttered breath upon the gentle click of your door, mumbled dialogue just barely pushing through the thick wood. Air puffs your cheeks in half contemplation, silence stealing the inspiration that seemed to dance before you, brain now only half awake as time seems to dwindle at the speed of sound. Instead of the reach for a waiting pad and the scatter of ballpoint colors staring from your desk unused and impatient, you grab for a volume that seems to scream from the near bookshelf.

It begs the recollection of time well spent, a pang in your chest follows a rushing to the surface as if air tearing from lungs lacking capacity. Your full weight collapses to your chair, recently upgraded at Namjoon’s insistence that nursing the squeaky four wheeler that threatened to collapse with the wrong release of breath violated his own moral codes before the hushed mumble about legal repercussions. You aren’t complaining, the upgrade makes you feel like a permanent staple, especially when your mind is convinced that layoff is imminent.

Your fingers trace the smooth cover of hardback, reckoning with the ache to feel the crisp of unturned pages and avoid the buildup that follows suit. It’s the not knowing that tugs at the precipice of your flowing mind, wishing for diagnosis from a stagnant flow of a previous gold mine.

Your ears peak at the surge of voices layering the lobby, though your mind squashes the urge for a slip back into the throw of pleasant chatter. You draw a drawer, fishing for half tangled buds, slipping them into your heightened canals to drown with the sounds of your latest fix.

~*~

The lift of Jeongguk’s gaze as heavy feet carry him past the fluorescent sign of Uhgood Tattoo and through the ringing entrance is subtle enough as doe eyes scan the lengthy space for a feminine form. He’s met with null, but the snag of his pupils on a wall of intricacy almost distracts from the loiter of men staring straight for him and Taehyung who is decidedly less preoccupied.

“Jeongguk, nice to see you again!” Namjoon booms over every voice in the room. His arms are half open in eager acceptance and Jeongguk leads Taehyung to the settled group, one last sweep still leaving him wanting for an introduction or a glimpse at best. “We were actually just talking about you.”

“About me?” His tone toes between surprise and unease, lips puckering in the shape of ‘oh’ and steps stuttering against the crunch of leaves slipping along linoleum.

“Yeah, Hoseok here was just saying how excited he is that you moved in. He owns the thrift shop just across from you.”

Hoseok doesn’t need much introduction before he’s centered in front of Jeongguk, smile glinting and hands reaching for the younger man with much fervor. Jeongguk would find the proximity daunting were it not for the friendly face reflecting in his widened irises. His chest rumbles, glad to place a face to bright signs and eccentric displays.

“Nice to meet you, we’re all glad to have a new face on our little strip. I’m especially glad to have an excuse to save myself from Jin’s questionable experiments in the kitchen.” Hoseok’s hand has yet to stop its steady shake of Jeongguk’s, too caught in words, leaving his mind’s body on its own. “Feel free to drop by my shop anytime, I love seeing new faces. Plus-”

“Here we go…” Jimin cuts, feigned exasperation coating his pitched tone before he excuses himself to the back of the shop. His exit isn’t swift enough to hide the exasperation of the puff of air that gaps his lips.

“There’s a special kind of magic in a shop like mine and because you just moved in the first trinket is on the house!”

“Oh magic? Taehyung’s really into that stuff, we’ll stop in sometime.” He gestures to his friend whose hands are shoved to the thick of his sweatshirt, lips pushed inward with the suck of his cheeks. “This is him by the way, Taehyung, he’s my partner of sorts at the cafe and my roommate.”

“Yeah, though the last one is questionable at the moment. Nice to meet you guys, this place is sweet! Do you do piercings by any chance?” As if by pure luck Jimin’s stepping back into the room, his eyes set ablaze with passion by the innocent inquiry.

“Piercings are my specialty actually, I can pierce any and everything!” His hands clasp to Taehyung’s shoulder, glad for excitement out of the realm of files and spreadsheets. Taehyung, surprised by the eager response, can only seem to nod along to the spew that falls from Jimin’s lips that near miles per minute. “Are you interested? I’d be happy to show you our collection.”

“This could take a while,” Jeongguk is startled by the presence of Namjoon somehow closer than before. Jimin is still spouting about his work to his potential client, Jeongguk takes in Taehyung’s features in search of a signal for help, but only finds him painted with interest and intrigue at the bundle of knowledge that is Park Jimin. Namjoon gestures to a hall along the far wall, a couple of paintings half crooked beckoning them forth. “We can talk about those tattoos if you’re interested?”

The buzz that surges in the cavity of his chest is answer enough, companied with the vigorous nod of his head, curls bouncing against the frame of his cheeks. “That would be great!”

Namjoon easily falls into the roll of guide, leading the two down the hall and past a couple of doors tightly sealed. The walls are a dark shade, set aglow by the heat of fixtures hanging overhead. Even in the dim setting, Jeongguk finds his head swiveling in every direction, thirsting to take in every inch of the place. In his haste he nearly trips over a section of flooring slightly raised, likely the result of settled foundation over many years. He decides rather quickly in favor of the building, the character of the interior clashing rather nicely with the updated signage on the outside.

‘We’ve got a few different stations for working,” Namjoon speaks up, drawing Jeongguk’s attention back. “We do them in the section off the side of the lobby if the customer is comfortable and it’s nothing major, but we also have private rooms that we as the artists like to use depending on the project.”

“That’s what these rooms are?” Jeongguk reaches with a pointed finger, tracing the expanse of the wooden frame, chipped and roughened, to a closed door. Rather than plaquing to decipher between the various enclosures there are framed sketches posted outside of each, nothing a newcomer like himself could pick up on, clearly contributed by the owners.

“For the most part, there’s my office and Y/n’s, and a storage closet but this is where the magic happens.” Namjoon allows Jeongguk a path to his office, door shutting in their wake with a dull thud.

It’s less decorated than Jeongguk was expecting, the barely bare walls outside of the office building up the anticipation of the canvas that must be spread within. Instead there’s nothing put bright white, almost blinding compared to what he’s seen so far. There are a few framed photos of Jimin, himself, and you; all smiling in various scenarios of glee. Other than the placement of a decently sized shelf in the corner and the desk perched along the adjacent wall this office gives no indication of Namjoon’ s labyrinthine line of work.

Even so, Namjoon appears highly intimidating as he takes a seat at his desk, gesturing Jeongguk to the comfortable chair across. Jeongguk is well aware that he doesn’t mean to give the impression of a boss, straight backed and fingers laced over mahogany, but that doesn’t make it any less so.

“So!” Namjoon speaks with triumph, his gauntlet the toss of the pen that had previously dangled from the fold of pierced ears. “You have any idea what you’re looking for in the ink department? I figure we can start with graphics and then discuss placement to see who the best fit would be for you.”

“Best fit?” Jeongguk leans forward, boots squeaking obscenely on the tile beneath. His cheeks flush at lack of knowledge, feeling as if the words spewed were foreign when in reality it was a jolt sent to the creases of his spine and straight to the red soaked appendage in his upper chest. While he’s entered this room with the assumption that Namjoon would be his sole artist, there lay a chance that the two of you will come face to face.

“Yeah, Y/n and I are both good at what we do but of course we both have our specialties. So we like to decide our clients that way sometimes.” Namjoon’s explanation leaves him none the wiser to hidden meanings and the hopeful perk of Jeongguk’s shoulders.

“Oh. I haven’t met Y/n yet,” He wonders if you rest behind one of the many doors leading to this one, sketching away on what he’s sure can only be a masterpiece. “Is she around?”

“Yeah...I don’t wanna disturb her though. Maybe she’ll be in the lobby when we’re finished here.” Namjoon’s words are sincere though his eyes seem to drift far off, their target the window over Jeongguk’s shoulder, shadowed by the growth of a large tree, branches dwarfing the ground outside. His trance is but a moment, focusing once more on the man before him. “What did you have in mind for your tattoo?”

“Well, actually, I was wondering if you guys use the tebori method here? I know it’s more widely used in japan, but I don’t really see myself heading over there anytime soon.” This shop isn’t the first that Jeongguk has scoped in hope of an artist with an extra element of technique, the buildup for disappointment resting in a rehearsed expression. He watches the myriad of expressions that Namjoon cycles through, almost as if the answer rests against the tip of his tongue, but he’s unsure if it’s the correct one. “It’s totally fine if—”

“We do.” He speaks without much expression save for the way his spine seems to cave inward as he continues to think. Jeongguk isn’t sure whether he should continue speaking, choosing instead to study the tilt of a pen on the desk, threatening to roll to the floor if it dances any longer at the edge of the surface. His nerves itch to grab for the object for some form of reprieve, afraid that the pending clatter will disturb Namjoon’s steady concentration and perhaps the calm mask that he appears to be sporting.

His head tilts a tad, curls falling over one pupil, the other spying Namjoon as if zeroing in on a target, nearly scrutinizing the pensive thinking with his galaxy gaze. He can see that just past the roof of Namjoon’s head there lies a single divot in the wall, nearly tricking the bump of accidental furniture, but Jeongguk’s own fist clenches in recognition, thumb tracing the jag of his knuckles.

“Y/n is the only person here that can tattoo with that particular technique, she’s amazing at it really, I’m just not sure if she’ll be up for it right now.” Namjoon’s words seem to pain him to utter, a strained longing in his voice that’s indecipherable without context. Jeongguk only nods along, curiosity curbed by his unyielding sense of etiquette in a situation that doesn’t wholly concern him. His feet are already pressing against the flooring, prepared to push to his feet and exchange pleasantries and assurance of no hard feelings, but Namjoon doesn’t seem quite through, leaving Jeongguk’s position to an awkward one hanging from the edge of his seat. “I don’t wanna speak for her though, so maybe you two can talk.”

“Okay, should I set up an appointment?”

“No, I think I heard her leave her office, she’ll probably be in the lobby. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you now.” Namjoon’s mouth is once again split in dimpled grin, leaving Jeongguk’s head to a spinning akin to a child’s top. He’s led from the room, paying extra attention to the hall, ears itching to pick up a tone much higher than those in the lobby he left only a short time ago.

Contrary to Namjoon’s inference, the lobby is emptier than when they left, Jimin and Taehyung the only ones left milling about. Their speech mimics old friends, Jimin poking at Taehyung with the smile of someone who knows something that no one else does, Taehyung simply replying in kind with half grin.

“I thought I heard, Y/n.” Namjoon directs his voice at Jimin, fingers tapping the surface of his desk whilst his eyes take inventory of the shop. Jeongguk wonders if he thinks you’re hiding behind one of the plants situated in the corner, waiting for the perfect moment to catch them off guard.

“Mm, she left. But not before this one got his flirt on,” Jimin’s elbow catches Taehyung’s rib with a sharp jab coloring his words. Taehyung doesn’t allow this to phase him, standing to his feet with a shrug of nonchalance.

“Not flirting, we just happen to know each other. You done here?” He aims at Jeongguk stepping with purpose toward the door. Neither makes eye contact, the subject of interest not particularly left to the category of unmentionable, but leaving them both awkward and stiff.

“Uh, I think so.” Jeongguk slants so that Namjoon is well in his sights, already typing vigorously on his phone screen. “Should I schedule something or…?”

“Don’t worry about it, I have your number so I’ll just have Y/n give you a call to see when you guys meet.”

Jeongguk stands a moment longer, his toes tapping to the leather roof of boots so chunky they seem to swallow him from toe to ankle, the footwear attempting to take from his lengthy form and failing miserably. He turns mid-step when Taehyung slaps lightly at the sleeve of his jacket, urging him to step beyond the threshold. He lifts his arm to half wave, mumbling pleasantries, barely audible of the steps that echo in his ears with each pace onto the desolate sidewalk.

Jeongguk heads toward his own shop, missing the realization of the lack of paired steps with his own. Several paces behind him, a subtle guilt dressing the plains of his cheeks, Taehyung tugs at the wear of half chapped lips, wondering if the broach of a hazy subject is necessary. He catches Jeongguk easily with a jog, nearly stilling him mid-stride but saved from the extra physicality by the passing of a car.

“You know...Jimin was just joking.” Jeongguk’s brows lift, clearly only just catching sight of his constant companion, his own thoughts carrying him along the street without a wayward glance. His eyes widen, unsure of Taehyung’s intentions or the direction of the current topic. “About Y/n, I mean. I don’t really know her and we don’t flirt.”

“Wouldn’t matter if you did.”

“Yeah, sure. It’s just—look I know you saw her the other day and I’m willing to bet the only reason you haven’t mentioned that you’re intrigued is because you thought she was dating Jimin.” Taehyung treads, careful to avoid the gaze of reddened cheeks, Jeongguk’s hand raising to a nudge at his soft lobe, the other clenching and unclenching in denim blue, nails scratching the rough of fabric with each clasp. “Well clearly they’re not dating, so it wouldn’t be a bad thing if you did like her is all I’m saying.”

“Like I said, I don’t really know her. I think she’s cute, from a distance anyways, but I don’t think that’s any reason for a declaration.” The gentle tick of the crosswalk draws Jeongguk's attention on the present path to the opposing side of the street, ignoring the gentle tick of his chest.

A shining beacon in a sea of monotony. The words that filtered like a mantra, dressing the walls of his clogged brain, overflowing from files and dancing with the fires in tipped bins. Taehyung’s words extinguish the licking flames, if only momentarily, with meticulous reassurance.

A pocket of vibration, dark and clinging to his chilled skin, is notification for incoming correspondence. His steps skip, tripping along asphalt, saved only by the subtle grasp of a steady hand. His thanks are dropped without hesitation, hand slipping from fabric confines with the heavily encased lifeline pulsing with power.

From: Unknown [ 2:25pm]~is this jeongguk? namjoon gave me your number, said you need a consult?

From: Me[ 2:26pm]~yea...this is y/n im guessing?

His eyes pierce the screen, undressing the words with precision, ensuring he doesn’t make a fool in reply. He wasn’t prepared for the quick interception of the conversation he’s still processing, inner workings too focused on what’s straight ahead, not minutely prepared for Namjoon's speedy deliverance.

From: Unknown [ 2:30pm]~ding ding ding. im pretty much free whenever, so let me know what works with you and we can meet to discuss what you need and whether im the person for the job

From: Me[ 2:33pm]~ how about tomorrow around this time?

From: Unknown [ 2:34pm]~ cool. let’s meet at the park around the corner

And now, he waits.

~*~

The first thing you noticed was his approach, a confidence in his stride yet eyes that tried and failed to hide the glisten of steady orbs and the kiss of wind landing atop the surprising density of his cheeks like the piling of new snow. Your legs were crossed at the ankle, bare skin grazed by the cool of grass half dried by the desert chill, hands gripping the accumulation of sleeve inched to the open of your palm whilst your lips curved in mimic at the pout of his own, unintentional but perfectly protruding with the tracking of your steady tilt.

If one were to ask about the slight tremor in your hand or the subtle inch across inches between, you would fail to mention the metaphorical personality of your pulsing appendage and the ooz of liquid red abandoning the organ overflowed to trace the expanse of veins humming with the melodic string of laughter yet to abandon the space since he first spoke. You were immediately taken with soft speech and stolen glances, the professional tossed aside when you asked him to meet you, altogether forgotten when he said hello.

The pulsing was stunned only momentarily when he withdrew, hand disappearing into deep pockets to pose leather-bound pages and the hesitant stretch of muscles, the quick twitch of his neck the line of a rod, drawing you forward with each gentle reel of innocence. Now you sit, tangled in silent adoration, dripping admiration for the collaged pages, soaked in brilliance.

“These are yours?” You stroke the page with the ease of your pointer, his head tilting, hair framing, whilst he nods in a lopsided grin. You don’t notice the glue to your cheek, his eyes steady studying you while you study the glide of his hand with jet black against the white page.

He wonders if you catch the nerves, the steady vibration of his unsteady palms, gentle leap of muscled thigh and the brush of your leg with each accidental inch closer. The proximity did him in, your face from a distance only a picture on a page, face to face giving him the overwhelming sensation of the walk through a gallery filled with seven wonders, their spectacle meaningless without the promise of you.

He pretended for a moment, between laughter and brushes of innocence that he’s known you a lifetime, the thought only pulling at his metaphorical strings because he wishes he had. Your voices echo is sure to leave him wide eyed and ceiling bound for nights to come, imagining the galaxy as you, white expanse the only thing keeping from the grip he so wishes he could establish on the slip of your time here.

He knows it’s insanity, thoughts that won’t leave him be, the closeness driving him further to the edge. It’s the reason for his transition to the journal, the reason you’re perched in the grass with the whipping wind and dead leaves skirting around you.

“It’s just some ideas I have, I jot them down so I don’t forget. I was hoping we could work on them, flesh them a bit more…” Your gaze leaves the page, magic dwindling a sum, aghast at the audacity in his words. You withdraw, clenching fists to rationalize the wait for rejection on your behalf.

“Why me? I mean, you’ve seen Namjoon’s work, he’s great.”

“He said that you’re skilled in the tebori method. I’d like them to be done in that style and not many people can. Plus, I’ve seen your work too, it’s just as amazing.” Jeongguk notes the deflation, not unaware of Namjoon’s warning. He’s tempted to pry, but reverses hoping to stumble upon neutral territory, already missing the strain of your muscles in smile. “But obviously it’s only if you’re comfortable. I don’t mean to put you on the spot.”

“You’re not, I just...can I think about it? I know that’s so incredibly unprofessional of me but—”

“Take as long as you need.” Jeongguk decides immediately he doesn’t need an explanation, that your rumination is the promise of another rendezvous, high hopes lifting him over the horizon of the midday sun, skin aching for the glow of golden hour.

You already know you’ll say yes, outright rejection never an option, the flicker of expression alight in your left receptacle more than reason to feel him once more. The physical is through the page, but the metaphorical is the connection of souls, the cliché of one person and the hope of renewed ardor.

“I promise I won’t be long…” The words hang, heavy in the air between and with more meaning than your intent. You’re led away by the weight of obligation, required assistance from Jimin to cover the desk, legs like infant limbs after an hour unmoving.

Jeongguk follows suit, still chewing the words before spewing his own right back. The same weight and familiarity in his soft deliverance.

“I’ll be waiting.”

And now, you climb.

~*~

“How was your date?” Jimin is already setting up his station, eyes not sparing a glance, concentration wholly reserved. His vibration is palpable, though you don’t immediately notice, the feeling still finding stringed limbs when you reach your seat behind the desk.

“I was meeting a client,” You speak hollow and unconvincing, the magic coursing through your veins begging to differ. Wonder is silent, eyes latching to the single eye muraled to the wall, imagining it to glisten like Sirius reflecting in the night sky, musing how one day could build a coherency of such magnetism yet still be held at arm’s length.

“Oh really? It’s just that, I never meet my clients at the park...” His voice is a hum, settling an array of options for the post pierce browse. “—it’s certainly a bonus that said client is very handsome and already seems pretty interested.”

“You’ve never even seen us in the same room, I just met him today.”

“Whatever. I assume he’ll be coming around a lot more.”

Your fingers grasp the nearest instrument, ballpoint clicking in time with the tap of your toe against the leg of the chair. “I don’t know if I’m gonna agree. I don’t want him to be disappointed in the result.”

“I know you think you’re old news, but the fact that you didn’t say no is reason enough. There’s clearly a part of you that wants to, so why not take the plunge?”

“I can’t say yes just because I feel some strange attraction to him. That would be inappropriate,” Your mind barely registers the entrance of figure three, a client you presume, the sign-in ledger already halfway across the desk when Jimin speaks again.

“So you are attracted to him?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes you did,” Your pen clatters, nimble fingers swooping it in your absence, Taehyung’s smirk a playful gleam to counter your startled posture. He greets Jimin as an old friend, the two waiting for you to catch up, the slouch of your spine and the configuration of the scene pulling you back into the current take.

“You’re the one getting a piercing?” Wheels push the foundation, abandoning the desk in favor of the plush leather Taehyung has already sunken into. You believe he feels at home, the decorative jewelry already hanging from his lobes the badge of a pierced veteran.

“Yeah, I figure it’s time to expand my collection.” His hand brushes the lengthy edges of his dark locks, leaving ample space for Jimin to reach his target, the depth of his gaze landing on your arch over the chair’s arm. “I’m assuming your meeting went well?”

“What do you know about my meeting?”

“Why do you think I was here yesterday? The piercing was just a bonus,” He pokes at the tray beside him, the light smack of Jimin’s hand drawing him back to the confines of his lounge. You try to connect dots lost in the fray of day to day. Taehyung is not entirely new to you though still unfamiliar, but you don’t recall the mention of Jeongguk during his earlier visits.

“So you guys know each other then?” Your disbelief finds Jimin, his hand’s busied with extra sanitation and his lips focusing hard to keep his face straight. “I’m assuming I’m simply the last to know, okay then.”

“It’s just circumstance really, I’m the one who came to your door, you were in your office when we came here yesterday and he was in Namjoon’s office when you came out. I promise he wasn’t avoiding you, quite the opposite actually.” You’re too intrigued for embarrassment, your attention handed tenfold to Taehyung, his head slightly tilted while Jimin readies to pierce him.

As of late the stench of disinfectant would trigger a memory you were fighting hard to shield from the surface, but the idea of not knowing more of Taehyung drives it from your mind, currently on one track and unwavered by anything that’s not Jeongguk. Even so, there’s a haze, or perhaps the attempt of common sense forcing you to look past the filter of brights to truly grasp reality.

“We’d never met before today, how could he possibly be looking for me?”

“We actually saw you a few days ago, before you and I officially met. You and Jimin were leaving the shop and he seemed pretty distracted by you, but he thought you two were dating.” Your laughter emits in breathy sighs, muddled by the fluttering in your abdomen, Jimin’s lips smug, shoulders rounded.

“Easy mistake, we’d make a cute couple.” It would be a fib to deny that it’s the first time it’s been thought that you and Jimin were more than friends. His neighbors foolishly believe your late nights are spent anywhere save for the couch, silver screen glaring back at your glued lids.

You watch Jimin work, ignoring the bore of Taehyung’s eyes, his focal point to ignore the sharp sting of the needle. He barely flinches, your own body lurching in slight when the needle meets puffed skin. His hand clasps your wrist, pulling you closer, examining the bare skin in earnest.

“You don’t have any tattoos...none that I can see at least.” He notices, jumping to your eyes and back to your arm. He leans forward when Jimin steps away, gathering his studded collection of earrings, reflecting with golds and silver. “That’s pretty interesting considering you give them to other people for a living.”

“Astute observation. I do not have any tattoos visible or otherwise.” Taehyung kisses his teeth, easily opting for a pair reminiscent of chains. You look for judgement, but there’s none in his study of the colorful space, just a curiosity he’s not sure he should breach. “I’ve always wanted one, but I was too scared. Ridiculous but true.��

“Scared of needles?”

“At first maybe. Scared of the permanence of it all. It feels like such a big responsibility, to me at least, to decide what to get tattooed and I’ve never gotten to a point where I could just do it.” You think back to pages bound by leather with frightening immediacy, the conviction with which the they screamed at you almost haunting if not for the beauty of it. Chilling in the details of sketches, moments in time grasped so eloquently. A part of you is certainly jealous, but the other part is so irrevocably drawn to depth and desire. “Hey, Taehyung, is Jeongguk still at his shop by chance?”

“Actually I’m supposed to be meeting him for ice cream after this so he might already be there.” He pulls his device from his jacket, squinting at the screen, thumb gliding in swiftness. “You guys should come!”

“Oh we don’t wanna—”

“I’m in, I’ve been craving a good scoop,” Jimin leaves no room for disagreement, his limbs already at full speed to hurry cleaning his station. “We don’t have any clients and Namjoon is out of town for the day, so I think we’re good to close up. Plus, you can tell Jeongguk you’ll take him on.”

“I never said I would,” You slide back into your jacket, tucking your limbs into the sleeves. The sky has darkened significantly since the dusting of rays that splashed your skin as you sprawled the grass barely an hour earlier.

“You never said you wouldn’t.” The two are like stooges, already mastering the collaborative effort to challenge you.

“Have fun with your ice cream, I’m, hopefully, going home to a heated apartment.”

~*~

Jin has been talking to Jeongguk since he entered, the recognition of the new young entrepreneur on the strip catching his attention without pause. He’s a nice guy, his energy something Jeongguk would appreciate on any given day, but he was hoping for a moment of collection before Taehyung arrived.

He’s stuck on a blur, the low heat of his skin and the canals of his ears, yearning for the vibration of laughter and soft words spoken beneath the breeze. It was easy and good, an hour lost, an hour found. He would’ve laid there in the grass for hours after your departure were in not for the chill that crept in so easily without you beside him.

He wonders if it was a mutual feeling or if your reaction was just polite, a business tactic. No. Not you, you’re not the type to pretend, he knows even if he doesn’t know. Your sincerity was like a sickness, spilling from your every crevice, pouring out with your every phrase. He’s sure even you don’t notice the significant way you carry yourself, impossible to turn away from.

“Hey, Jin, talking Jeongguk’s ear off I see.” Jeongguk breaks his stare from where it concentrated on the ink already eating his skin, Jimin standing over the booth with Taehyung chuckling beside him. “Maybe give him a break and take out order?”

“There’s a counter, Park Jimin, and—” Jin squints in the direction of the counter, a small line waiting for their treats of the frozen variety, though not many people are keen for the cold in the midst of winter. “—yup there’s definitely someone up there waiting just for you.”

“Ha ha, leave him alone, Jin, his mind is already occupied plenty.” Jin slides from the booth, Jimin immediately taking his place, Taehyung sliding in after him.

Jin feigns reluctance when Jimin recites his order, all around friendlier when Jeongguk and Taehyung do the same. Jimin turns his attention to the other side of the booth when Jin sidles off, already choosing his next target. “Where’s your head at?”

“Hm?”

“We just talked to Y/n, I hear your meeting went well, prospects are high. She seems interested,” Taehyung’s speech is backed with encouragement, Jeongguk’s lip quivering, but winning the fight against his impending smile, intent on not giving himself away too quickly.

“She said she’d think about it and I’m perfectly okay with that.” He thinks of your promise, the thoughts skirting past the surface for a sign, a signal that the more he feels is exactly the meaning behind your words. His rang true, he would wait and be content. He would be prepared to have you work as his artist and end things there, but the weight in his pocket and the recollection of your eyes doubled in size leaves room for the want of more.

“She seemed impressed with you,” Jimin adds, chin rested in his palm, reading for reaction. “The fact that she’s considering is a really good sign. For her and for you.”

“It all just felt really natural,” The two watch as Jeongguk’s eyes glaze over just thinking about the exchange. “Almost like we…”

He trails, face heating, his thoughts almost betraying him. He’s relieved when a server comes bearing dishes, thanking them aloud with pleasantry and inwardly for saving him from himself. The relief is short lived when two sets of eyes beam at him like he’s an amusement, waiting for him to continue.

“Almost like you…”

“Nothing, it’s really stupid. She’s really great, I’ll be lucky if she decides that I’m worth it.” He covers lamely, shoving his spoon past his lips, letting creamy vanilla coat his tongue and ease his mind.

“Trust me,” Jimin mumbles, swallowing his own hefty scoop. “She decided that the moment you sat down.”

~*~

It’s unclear what brought you to this stool some nights later, half buzzed and wondering if you’ll have to call Jimin to drag you home. Your mind hasn’t completely fogged, liquor light with mercy, heavy consequences no doubt pending for the morning to come. A break, you’d decided, hands and knees stained with product, trying in vain to work the stain from your carpet, the smudge faint but not enough to miss your eye.

The crowd is surprising, though you wouldn’t know as you don’t often go to the place with the metaphorical bad stuff, your own brand of lunacy dancing in boxes lacing your cabinetry. You recall the draw of drinks from mugs and Jimin off-key when you’re sliding more bills than you prefer across the counter. Moving is without appeal, head to the counter the way to go.

“Hey, you okay?” The voice is familiar, worth the work to lift your head. Jeongguk looks down at you, his hand placed to the bar, eyes wide with concern.

His own stumbling through the door of the room with the dim lighting and the absurd amount of sports playing in every corner was boredom. Taehyung had plans and he was left alone to the drone of the television, the shop in need of a break from him. The dishes already glistening from his tenth wash despite the lack of use. A spot of dust enough to send him into a frenzy. From Jimin the name of the dive was briefly mentioned, in relation to what he couldn’t say, the topic never picking his brain from the moment it was first spoken.

Now he’s glad he wasn’t a horrible companion, the sight of you hunched over reason enough for his half listen. He notes your solitude immediately, drawn to the side of the bar rather than the thick of it all, two glasses empty before you.

“Jeongguk!” Your tone is uneven, eyes looking watered under the lights, your smile brightening in his eyes. He can’t help but to return, lowering into the stool so your faces are level. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I just got here actually and I saw you so…”

“You came for me?” If you were less influenced the words would have remained nothing more than a thought, passing in a sea of others you could never muster courage to speak. Though you’re not sure that a post buzz reflection will make you wish they were any less materialized, the way his features soften like a fertilization for the growth of your thudding heart.

“I—yeah, I came for you. Are you ready to head home?”

“You don’t know where I live,” You say the words, knowing you’ll go anywhere with him even if he doesn’t. You let him guide you from your stool, his touch soft, never too much.

“You know, I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

~*~

He lingers outside of your door, adoring the small struggle you have with lock and key, about to lend a hand when your triumph catches him, arms lifting over your head, turning to him with a smile. “Come on!”

“You want me to come in?” Taehyung will be home soon and he has no way of explaining that he’s at your place that doesn’t involve some teasing on his best friend’s end of it, though it doesn’t matter when you latch on to the sleeve of his jacket and pull him past the threshold.

The biggest difference between your place and theirs is the lived-in aspect. He would say that it’s cute, but it’s too simple a word. It seems you prefer mood lighting, the flip of a switch igniting fairies strung to the base of the ceiling. It suits you, who’s already stumbling toward the kitchen expecting that Jeongguk is hot on your trail. The décor is simple, a few paintings on the wall, rugs and cozy furniture.

“I’m sorry if it’s cold in here, it’s always kind of cold in here,” You mutter, grabbing two mugs and giving life to your kettle. Jeongguk recalls that you were no longer in possession of your space heater, taken by Taehyung and himself and still unreturned. He debates running over to grab it, but your hand once more on his wrist, drags him to the sofa erasing the thought of walking out of that door. “Thanks for bringing me home, I promise I’m not that wasted. You don’t have to be so nervous.”

“No, I’m not nervous! Not because you were drinking anyways…”

“So you are nervous...why?”

“You make me nervous...in a good way!” He’s quick to regroup, noting the fall of your features, hating that it’s because of him. “It’s completely insane, but from the moment I saw you I…”

“Me too.” Jeongguk’s previously averted gaze rushes to meet you, already staring back. He doesn’t need to ask what you mean, confident that what you feel is what he feels. Confident that it doesn’t matter how insane it may sound. “It’s so crazy, but when I saw you yesterday something just clicked and I thought maybe it’s because you’re ridiculously attractive but then we talked and it was so natural.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t just me,” He takes a chance, hand sliding to yours, resting against your thigh. Your fingers tangle without stutter, the position meant to be, so full of warmth and understanding. “I saw you with Jimin a few days ago, I couldn't stop staring."

So long is spent staring, enjoying each other and the mutual affection that's like an aura engulfing you.

"Where exactly do we go from here?” Jeongguk tugs at his bottom lip, another quality that fills you with warmth.

“Why are you opening a tea shop?”

“What?”

“We’re practically strangers, I don’t even know your last name actually. So, if there’s some weird predestined love at first sight phenomenon going on here, I’d like to know everything about you before we proceed.” You click, smile a contagious thing, one that Jeongguk would be remiss not to embrace wholeheartedly. “So why a tea shop?”

“Well first, my last name is Jeon—”

“Jeon Jeongguk…” He watches you test the words against your tongue. “Cute. You’re cute.”

“Anyways,” He blushes. “I’ve always loved making tea. I learned it at a young age and then I started experimenting and decided that this is what I wanna do. I figured focusing on boba would draw more people in, but I also wanna expand on what I already know.”

“Well if anything, Hoseok will be there at least twice a day.”

“What about you?”

“I think I can make time, though you are really out of the way I might not be able to swing it.”

“I’ll pick you up, or better yet I can just bring it right to you,” He offers, amused but truthful. “No, but I mean how did you get into tattooing, and how did you learn tebori?”

“Ah…” Your eyes find one of the frames hanging nearest the window, a landscape that Jeongguk can barely make out aside from the distance of neon. “Well, I was studying abroad actually, in Japan. I was an art history major and I didn’t really know what I wanted to do so I thought getting away would help me figure it out.”

You think often about the day when your current occupation seemed so foreign, your adolescence always filled with imaginings of galleries under curation, days filled with frames and packed schedules.

“One of my classmates convinced me to go out with her one night because she wanted a tattoo and I wanted one too, so I didn’t really see why I shouldn’t go. She got hers first, a flower I think, and while I was watching the artist I was just blown away by the technique.”

“Tebori?”

“Mmhm, of course I’d seen the regular ink and needle, but this just seemed to me something on a deeper level and I fell in love with it. It’s probably the most insane thing I’ve done to date, but I finished my degree abroad and stayed in Japan to learn and now I’m here.”

“Why’d you come back?”

“It just felt like it was time...sometimes I wish I hadn’t or that I could go back to visit. Like it’ll remind me what it felt like in the beginning, make me feel like less of a failure. I'd actually get my tattoo.”

“You’re not a failure, we just have patches sometimes. You’ll figure it out, we’ll figure it out.” The steam of the kettle startles from the moment you're quick to exit to the stove, mulling words and recovering from the embarrassment of exposure over the steaming water. “You know, I don’t have tea so I hope hot chocolate is okay?”

“It’s perfect,” Jeongguk accepts his mug and the packet of mix, stirring it in time with his breathing. He’s left to the obvious blushing of his cheeks, musing his circumstance, sharing a drink with the perfect anomaly. He’s ignored the constant stream of vibration from his pocket, no interest in removing himself from the cozy bubble. “So this place is pretty shitty, I would know and I’ve only lived here about a week. Why do you stay here?”

“You live here? Wait...you and Taehyung are roommates, duh sorry. I’m still trying to catch up.”

“Yeah, thanks for the space heater by the way. I’m pretty sure I would’ve given in the first night if I had to sleep in the cold.”

“Ha! No worries, sometimes I do give in and I stay over at Jimin’s place. But I’m just not ready to let this place go yet, I guess. It’s not great, but change is hard and I’ve been here for so long.”

You're close along the counter, space invaded without invitation, gravitation controlling your every step. The rest of the night follows suit, closeness and appeal. You enjoy words and laughter, ignoring the possibility of the responsibility the next day alludes.

Somehow you find yourselves in your bed, faces close and bodies tucked beneath the thick duvet. You're glad the heat isn’t working tonight, Jeongguk wrapped around you like a boa, slowly falling into the depths of unconsciousness, the conversation lulling with each random topic. Your throat is strained from laughter and your brain is filled with more than it thought possible.

Inches are now centimeters and you’re snails inching toward the finish, certain but uncertain if the light of day will change the result of your exchange.

The morning following you wake much the same as you slept, tangled, breaths mingling between. Jeongguk is still snoring, blissfully unaware of the authoritative knock echoing from your front door. Hands pushing at your eyes, feet tingling against the cold flooring, you swing the door with an annoyance you’re prepared to unleash before you’re met with Taehyung.

His eyes are half frantic, neck craning to see around you.

“Taehyung?”

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you, but have you seen Jeongguk? I’ve been trying to reach him since last night and he’s not answering.”

“O-oh...um he’s here, let me get him,” You mumble, allowing Taehyung, his eyes softening and features squinted, to step inside. You leave him standing in the living room, ignoring the knowing smirk, head bowed as you step into your bedroom.

You regret the gentle shove of his shoulders, and the hushed “wake up” that slowly but surely draws Jeongguk from his sleep. He looked peaceful, full of youth with his eyes stapled and breath steady rising and falling. His eyes are puffy when he raises, confusion laced features recalling that he wasn’t in his own home.

His arm extends, patting your side of the bed, unaware that you were the reason for premature awakening. “Hey sleepy head.”

“What are you doing up?” He finds your hand, grabbing hold in an attempt to pull you back to bed. Though you would be more than willing, Taehyung is sure to have heaps to say already, no reason to add fuel to the fire already blazing in his pupils.

“Taehyung is here,” That catches his attention, eyes darting to the door half open. “He said he’s been trying to reach you. He’s waiting in the living room, I’m sorry if you didn’t want him to know you’re here, I panicked.”

“No it’s fine,” He assures, sliding from the bed, the same chill that ate you catching him with bare feet. You follow him back out to Taehyung, who’s taken it upon himself to peruse the space, currently examining the coffee table with it’s day old mugs. “Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you.”

Looking between the two of you, your hand finding habit at Jeongguk’s shoulder, he shrugs. “No biggie, just thought you might be in a ditch or something. Turns out I was very wrong, so I’ll leave you to it.”

“I’ll just come with you, I should probably shower and change. I’ve got some stuff to take care of before the opening. I can’t believe it’s only a couple months away.” You drop your hand, leaving him to it, an awkward and unsure feeling settling in your stomach. It’s clear that Jeongguk is a bit embarrassed, not that you’re own emotions haven’t caused the sting of a heat in your cheeks. You wait for him to follow Taehyung, who’s already waved goodbye, hands in his pockets as he stalks away.

Jeongguk isn’t so quick, turning to your ground bound pupils, fingers drifting to the trace of your jaw and nudging you to greet him. You’re taken by the lack of hesitation when his lips meet yours in kiss, short and sweet, altogether unexpected. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” You coo, fingers brushing his cheek gingerly, rewarded with one more peck before Taehyung is groaning in the hallway, effectively tearing Jeongguk from you to catch up.

~*~

You’re warm, for the first time in a long time you’re warm, from your chest to your veins, head and toes, and it’s all because of Jeon Jeongguk. His departure wasn’t the last of him, the next few months full of meetings planned and spontaneous, your phone alight with too many notifications, every one taken in with the same adoring smile and your own obsessed response.

You would stop by Hoseok’s blessing him with a coffee, happily listening to his rambling about the horrendous new flavor Jin had him and Yoongi test the other night. Across the street you could just see Jeongguk through the window, lips pulled in concentration, pen scribbling on the pad in front of him. Though it was cute, you couldn’t help but to attempt to cheer him up, his eyes immediately finding you after he’s read the little note sent to his phone.

You would be sick with yourself if you were the one to witness the affection radiating from your expanse, but you couldn’t care less how many times Jimin fake gags or the small lecture you endure when Yoongi delivers flowers later in the day. You hold on to the feeling and you hope that it feels like this all the time.

“What are you working on?” Namjoon steps into your office, no other reason than his own boredom swallowing him whole, much like the cushions when he collapses into your sofa.

“Just some of Jeongguk’s sketches…” You noticed rather quickly the familiar book resting on your bedside table after your first night together, no doubt placed by Jeongguk before sleep could find him. You spent the morning getting to know his art better, so you could try to make it exactly what he wanted. You only just got around to transferring the sketches to your own notebook, hoping to have something to show him at his opening.

“He’s really good for you. I haven’t seen you this eager about sketching in a while.”

“You think so?”

“What, you don’t?”

“No, I just...I don’t want you to think I’m completely insane for jumping into this so suddenly. I mean, I think it’s insane that I could be so completely sure about someone so quickly and I think the world of you, so I don’t want you to be disappointed…”

He laughs, whole hearted laughter fills your office and you’re not positive how you should respond. Your hands are unsteady on your pen, ready for him to completely crush your soul, back to the same girl standing in his doorway all those years ago.

“Honestly, you give me way too much credit.”

“What do you mean?”

“The night that you showed up, I was wondering how I was even gonna keep this place open. The building wasn’t the most friendly looking, most people walked right past, the outside giving them the impression that the inside was just as decrepit,” He sighs, head supported by the arm of the chair, eyes holding the ceiling in place. “When you showed up I was seconds away from telling you to get lost, then you handed me your sketches and you looked so hopeful. You were my last chance, so really I should be thanking you for being so spontaneous, especially if it means you’re happy.”

“Wow, why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I didn’t want to put more pressure than you already put on yourself. Plus, it doesn’t really matter now, does it? We’re doing pretty good, and that’s what’s important.”

The revelation is a motivation, your grip on the pencil tightening, strokes light and even on the page. Namjoon doesn’t say much more, silent inspiration while he falls into slumber, the only reason he ever finds himself meandering into your space.

“Knock knock,” Jeongguk peers around the corner, your finer flying to your lips, the other gesturing toward Namjoon, dozing peacefully. “Sorry, does he do that a lot?”

“Oh yeah, he pretends he wants to know what I’m up to then he’s out like a light before I’ve finished speaking.”

“I’ll have to try it sometime—”

“Watch it,” You warn playfully, sneakily closing your notebook so he can’t see. “What’s up? I figured you would be too busy filling orders for little ole me.”

“Never, and I want you to try this! I was thinking I could add it to the special menu. I know everyone is into the whole lemonade with boba thing which we do offer but I was trying to make a tea that’s more on the fruity side than the tea side because I know some people are put off by the tea taste, ya know?” He watches you uncomfortably closely, your face trained to be as neutral as possible while flavors explode, traveling to opposing ends of your mouth, battling it out, but ultimately left with no winner.

“You know, I appreciate the thought and I’m sure if you work on it some more it’ll be perfect but…”

“It’s disgusting.” He finishes for you sighing in defeat, collapsing in the chair across from you.

“No!” You round the desk, his arms ready to accept your slide into his lap. “It’s not disgusting, it’s just...not quite blended yet.”

He takes the to-go cup, sipping his own concoction. You wonder if he tried it at all before running over here, his habit of trusting your initial judgement extremely endearing, but unnecessary. It stems only from your admittance that you weren’t the biggest tea drinker and that you’re one of those lemonade with the boba people. His mission became clear, he couldn’t stand to see you walk into his shop knowing that you’ll be leaving with sugared lemons squeezed into juice. He has to make you the perfect tea if it’s the last thing he does.

He was set on making it for the opening, but to no avail, the sign flipped, his employees brewing away, his drop here only partially out of the necessity for his favorite taste tester. “It’s disgusting,” He decides immediately, fighting the urge to spit it back into the cup. “You have to stop being so nice to me, it’s cute, but I want you to yell at me like you yell at Jimin.”

“I don’t yell at Jimin!”

“You yell at Jimin all the time, lovingly, but there are voices raised.” Namjoon rubs at his eyes, tugging at the shirt riding at his abdomen. “We goin for tea or what? I swear people are gonna think we’re out of business with how often we close early.”

"Yeah, can you just give us a minute?" You try your best to be discrete, nodding toward the notebook on your desk.

"Yeah...Jimin and I will just meet you there." He leaves you, door clicking in his wake and you turn to Jeongguk with a ready grin, eyes wide with excitement.

"Is this one of those things where I should knock everything off of your desk? If so I'm down, but this is a weird time…"

"No! I have a surprise for you." You pull his journal from it's position beneath the stacks of paper on your desk. "You left this at my place your first night over."

"I've been looking for this! I was embarrassed to tell you I lost it, but it turns out you're a klepto." He teases, taking hold of the pages. "So you decided to hold it hostage?"

"I wasn't holding it hostage, I was working on…" You lift your sketchbook, flipping to the appropriate page. "These."

They aren't complete, but you want his first impression and suddenly you understand the tea thing. It's a radically different medium, your shared art actually pending ink on his body, but you don't want to go too far only to disappoint. He leans against the desk, not speaking, just staring, expressionless.

"If you don't like them we can talk about what you want changed, I just tried to make something I thought would fit what you've already got going."

He finally looks up, eyes glistening, your stomach doing flips. You're too afraid to ask what he's thinking, so you continue to wait, hoping he'll speak up soon and that you didn't insult him with your vision.

"I love them."

"Really? You don't have to worry about hurting my feelings, it's your body you know."

"Really, you're amazing. This is better than I could've hoped and I can't wait until it's permanent." His words are firm with sincerity, notebook laid to the side in favor of pulling you into his arms. "How am I supposed to compete? I can't even make tea for you."

"Relax, your tea is perfectly fine! I just enjoy the occasional lemonade. Come on, we'll go to the shop, you can make me whatever you want and I'll love it."

"Deal, but...I-we have a surprise for you as well."

"For me?"

"Yeah, I was talking with the guys the other day, we were talking about you..."

"You and the guys? This should be good."

"It is, I promise." He produces an envelope from his pocket, no scrawl on the outside, more mystery than you're ready for. “I was thinking about what you said that first night, about wanting to remember what it was like in the beginning.”

“What did you do?” You tear into the envelope, fingers moving so slowly you fear the skin will catch in the thin edges. What you pull is far from what you imagined, a ticket printed blue for a week’s time. Jeongguk stares at you expectantly, waiting for some form of reaction, but you’re not sure what to say. “This is a plane ticket…”

“Yeah, to Japan. We want you to go back and we knew you wouldn’t do it unless we planned it for you.”

“You guys didn’t have to.”

“We wanted to, I wanted to. The way your eyes lit up talking about that time in your life, I would do anything to give that to you again. So we want you to go to Japan, do something for you.” His lips land on your forehead, breathing you in while you process the unexpected gift. It’s more than you could ever imagine, but there’s a single string, dangling with uncertainty. You figure the only way to eliminate it is to pull full force, risk sounding ridiculous.

“What about you?” Jeongguk’s face scrunches in confusion, the inquiry the last thing he expected. His thoughts were far from himself, not naive enough to think his mind would be focused anywhere but you while you’re gone, but never thinking it would be a reason you’re unsure about going. “I don’t mean to sound stupid, but I’d miss you too much.”

“You can call me everyday, any time of day. I’ll be there, you don’t have to worry about me not being here waiting for you.”

“Or...you could come?”

“Oh, you want me to? I figured you’d want to do your own thing, not have me weighing you down.” Your arms find his waist, head resting against his chest, giggling at the prospect of Jeongguk being anything more than a comforting presence.

“Of course I want you to, I wanna show you everything.”

“I’ll have to figure things out with the shop, but—”

“Oh, wow I’m so selfish. Of course you can’t just drop everything to come with me, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” You shake your head, silently scolding your inconsideration. Jeongguk grabs hold of your shoulders, stopping you mid step, hand halfway to smack your forehead.

“I would love to come, I just have to talk to Taehyung about it. I’m sure he wouldn't mind taking on a little more responsibility. Actually he’ll probably pack my bags for me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’ll probably have to catch a later flight, just to get things taken care of.” He thinks aloud.

“I think I can manage a few days on my own.”

“I promise I won’t be long.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

And now, we smile.

#bangtanuniversity #bangtanidx #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #jungkook x reader #jjk x reader #jeongguk x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #jjk fluff #bts au #jungkook au #bts s2l #jungkook s2l

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

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[APH x AOT] Headcanons: The countries’ military regiment, fighting style and ranking

I only managed to get Germany, China, America, England and Russia in this, but I went pretty deep with all of them: There will be reasons for joining, strengths, weaknesses, and their overall ranking. The total wordcount for this is 3, 759, so that’s triple the amount of a regular headcanons post.

I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Garrison

The regiment with the most personnel, and arguably, the most productive. With limited entry into the military police and high fatality rate of the Survey Corps, most graduates wind up here.

But there is lots of work to be done. Whether it be maintaining and protecting walls, or evacuating citizens and adhering to emergency plans when disaster strikes--a breach in the wall and an invasion--there are always important jobs to get busy with. The Garrison frequently encounter both titans and civilians, so the soldiers here are well-rounded in titan combat, cannons, security detail, crowd control, and rifle usage.

Given their concrete role and how they successfully deliver what they pledge, they are objectively the most deserving of respect.

Germany

He always had his eyes set on the Garrison, having a high regard for their integral role in maintaining and protecting society.

Ludwig is well aware of his plethora of skills while remaining humble, and wishes to use them to his full potential. While he admires the will and purpose of the Survey Corps, he’d much rather join a regiment that has a better ratio of risk and return. The scouts who die outside the protection of the walls may not die meaningful deaths, but members of the Garrison have clear goals to dedicate themselves to, and he wants nothing more than to be a part of it.

As a hardworking person, he believes in sacrificing every bit of his time and energy to serving the people. What better way to be productive than defending civilians and the home he loves?

Fighting style

Selfless, strong and disciplined

Strengths

He’s outstanding in all areas. He’s fast, sharp, unafraid to tackle problems had on, and to top it all off, his cuts are deep and damaging. Using 3DMG in a city as convenient as it is dangerous. Infrastructure often hides titans from the naked eye, but he’s able to take in clues and process them quickly to take the quickest and safest route.

He has a high pain tolerance. Theoretically, if he got his arm bitten off, he could make his own way to find medical attention.

Ludwig is a natural born leader. He has one of the finest military minds. If you want strategy, you go to him. Not only is he renowned for remaining calm and level-headed no matter how grim circumstances become, he is direct and detail-oriented, so he’s a great communicator. Thus, he can be relied upon by everyone who works with him.

He has a strong moral compass, but isn’t very emotional. More often than not, he will take the initiative to go out of his way to save someone, putting his life on the line in the process. Ludwig won’t linger on any setbacks and incidents, and will make the most out of them by trying to learn something. This sources from being mentally strong, so he’s able to keep pushing without the troubles of self-doubt.

He possesses a very high standard for his work, and everything he does will be done well. As he takes on more authoritative roles, he will implement his work ethics into administrative tasks, and demand that others follow his example. Ludwig will not turn a blind eye to any instances of incompetence, and corruption will automatically result in your termination.

He’s a fearsome fighter. His combat skills are one of the best. Ludwig never held back when sparring in his training days, but now that he’s faced with real enemies, he will dedicate his time to studying and perfecting variety of techniques. If you can do so little as touch him, consider yourself good. Breaking your ribs is merely a warning from him.

Weaknesses

Ludwig is a workaholic, and he will get carried away. He can get too obsessed with completing his tasks to the point of neglecting his own health. This may result in pulling consecutive all-nighters or skipping meals, believing that his body can handle it. However, the long-term effects will be detrimental if somebody doesn’t stop him.

He takes on too much responsibility, sometimes more than what he can handle. There’s never too many burdens for him to shoulder, or at least, that’s what he thinks, but he’ll end up pushing himself and getting in trouble. This coincides with his selflessness, but he puts himself in harm’s way too often.

He can get fixated on the smallest imperfections and inexplicabilities in himself and the happenings in his regiment. As a detail-oriented person with high standards, he could get distracted by these fluctuations. Ludwig believes everything has to be accounted for, but he ends up counting in the more trivial matters.

Rank: 2nd

Military police

Only the top ten get to join the military police as the most prestigious branch in the military. They operate in wall Sina, the innermost wall, and maintain order, as well as serve the king. Ironically, they are the biggest farce of all regiments by nature. Soldiers train to be the best at fighting titans just to get away from them in the safest spot of their civilization.

That sounds appealing, doesn’t it? To hide away from the humanoid beasts and live a nice cushy life with the royals. Of course, this paves way for corruption, and their higher authority over the two other regiments leads to misuse and abuse of power.

Considering how little oversight they have, the military police often clashes heads with the other two regiments, but especially the Survey Corps.

Russia

He doesn’t like people enough to join a branch that will actually help them.

Ivan understands that its more worthwhile to join the Garrison or Survey Corps because they actually contribute to society. But his view on their work and humanity in general is far too pessimistic. When will the scouts actually do something useful after so many meaningless deaths? People will inevitably die inside the walls, with or without the Garrison, so what’s the point?

If he can live his own life not caring about things he can’t change, why not do it?

Being in the military police, the most prestigious and powerful regiment, and yet, met with their jarring incompetency everyday reminds him that maybe, he shouldn’t sell himself to saving the human race. His soul is far too bitter--too disappointed. He ends up prioritizing himself in a world he believes will eventually self-destruct. These walls won’t last forever. The people will only break down faster.

Fighting style:

Sharp and unpredictable

Strengths (In the military police)

Ivan’s ability to outsmart his colleagues allows him to stay on top of all the going-ons in the military police. He’s very cynical, but that’s the perfect trait for thriving in such a corrupt environment. Nobody will be able to take advantage of him, and he ends up doing it to others without even trying.

It’s impossible to anticipate where and how he will attack you. Ivan has a keen eye for body language, and will mirror his opponents’ movements for the most part, then when they least expect it, he will come for them in the most merciless fashion.

Thus, his combat style is definitely special, but that’s what makes him so deadly. He won’t always use punches and kicks because they’re easy to defend against. He might just hold you in a chokehold, but if he wants to get rid of you, he’ll use his height and strength to his advantage and slam you to the ground by your neck.

Weaknesses (In the military police)

None

His transfer to the Survey Corps

Nobody anticipated this. Not even Ivan himself.

He grew up rather poor, but fortunately, he wasn’t impoverished to the point of living in the underground slums. His father was a no-show, and his mother struggled to put food on the table for as long as he could remember. Already, the thought of joining the military police to escape poverty was starting to look like a realistic goal to strive towards.

Who would have thought the nice but strange-looking boy he befriended from his neighborhood would change his mind one day? He didn’t, not as he stood in the line of the top ten graduates of the 104th training corps, determined to fulfil his lifelong dream and finally stop suffering.

Every day, he’s reminded it was the right choice to join the military police. His superiors are corrupt, his colleagues incompetent and everyone is absorbed with gambling and drinking. Humanity was hopeless. It would face its eventual demise as the Garrison struggled to keep swarms of titans from invading one district to another, and as the personnel of the Survey Corps decreased every expedition with little progress. He might as well enjoy himself while he can.

His deep attachment to his childhood friend Yao would change all of this. As a child, he was always quite clingy to the boy, but one needs to wonder if it was because he gave him things to eat. While they went off on different paths to join different regiments, they kept a close connection, and would often meet up in secret to discuss each other’s military branches.

Eventually, Ivan’s attitude begins to change as his relationship with Yao deepens. After all, his friendship with the man reminds him of what’s left of the good in humanity. Soon, as he learns about the change in tide for the Survey Corps where they encounter new, real progress, and eventually, a real chance for salvation, he begins to question his morals and beliefs.

The military police start to look more distasteful to him at every passing day. The tables finally turn when he learns that the Survey Corps are to embark on an expedition outside the walls in a few months, meaning Yao will face uncertain death--that’s what convinces him to transfer.

Strengths (In the survey corps)

Like his personality, he has an unpredictable and unique 3DMG style. Most people will choose to swing by one way, he will choose the other. He might even go upside down for a while wherever he sees fit. That’s what makes him so strong against aberrants/abnormals. He might even laugh at how ��predictable’ they were when they were anything but. Like the saying goes, to catch a thief, you have to think like one.

He always shows up at the right time. He will appear from obscure spots and pull you into a hiding spot when you’ve abandoned all hope. To his comrades, seeing Ivan in strange places is the best thing that could happen to you, because his presence signals a threat nearby and he’ll end up being your only ticket out.

His intelligence is one of a kind. On top of this, he’s very difficult to faze so he can orientate himself quickly in foreign environments and pick up on situations without panicking. Friends tend to rely on him in dire moments for this reason.

Weaknesses

He often rubs people the wrong way with how he speaks. Half the time, he’s being too blunt and honest that it’s hard-hitting. If not, he mentions grotesque or unpleasant things with a smile on his face. And in a world with titans, there are many things that fit the description. People have a hard time liking and trusting someone like Ivan, which may cause his isolation and a disconnect with the goals of the majority.

His blades don’t last as long as most people’s because he has a questionable way of cutting up titans. He gets the job done, but he definitely over does it. He’ll have to rely on his 3DMG to survive for the meantime until he’s able to replenish.

Ivan isn’t the best communicator in the world, and this is mostly because he assumes people already understand what they need to do. Unfortunately, not a lot of his comrades are as bright as him, so it doesn’t help that he can be quite vague. He can’t be relied on to relay important information, so he stays where the action all happens, or in other words, where trouble begins. This will put him at a greater risk even if he’s good at facing unexpected and dire situations.

Rank: 4th

Survey corps

You’d definitely be called crazy for considering joining. The Survey Corps is the branch of military that specializes in titan research, human expansion, and exploration of the outside world. Thus, this regiment symbolizes a hope for mankind—for freedom. However, the mortality rate is high. Stepping into titan territory will decimate members, and most will die within 4 years of joining. High risk, and almost zero return.

They are notorious for how little their success rate is so that citizens and other military regiments look on in disapproval. But they keep fighting and fighting, hoping that one day, their efforts won’t be in vain in their quest to change the world for the better.

Only the most convicted individuals will join. But only the most talented, and perhaps, luckiest, will survive.

America

This isn’t even a question.

He knows the risks. It’s not certain whether his death will be meaningful either, and count as one step forward for humanity. It probably won’t. But he’ll be damned if he’s stuck in these walls for the rest of his life, getting fattened up by taxes just to turn into livestock for titans.

Unlike Ivan who believes in self-preservation, Alfred thinks the meaning of life is to join a cause bigger than himself. To build something that will last for lifetimes.

He’s also a free spirit, and yearns for true freedom and justice. So he’ll fight for it. The logo representing the scouts aren’t “The Wings of Freedom” for nothing. Call him cocky, but he’s convinced he was born to join the scouts. Everything they believe in, he does too. Their goals resonate with the deepest fibres of his soul. He craves knowledge. Bleeds for revolution. He won’t rest until he satisfies his quest for discovery, and hope.

Fighting style:

Powerful and explosive, but a little flamboyant.

Strengths

Alfred possesses an almost super-human strength and stamina. He can go long, and go hard. He will go on a killing rampage for as long as his gas and blades allow him to.

He’s very hardy and able to make fast decisions in risky situations. Hence, when he’s subject to difficult situations, he makes it out without a hitch. This is evident in how he can make narrow escapes to survive in cases most people wouldn’t. Losing your horse outside the walls guarantees death, but he has a half and half chance of surviving.

His slashes are always deep to ensure he incapacitates a titan. He spins and flips a lot. He could easily dismember them if he wanted to.

A terrifying opponent to spar against because his attacks are usually too strong to defend against. The immense force he uses coincides with his incredible speed, so his opponents will have a hard time dodging and keeping up with him. One punch to the head will leave them blacked out, and two could mean permanent brain damage. Three and you’re probably as good as dead.

A good and calm communicator and works well in a team. He’s more observant than he lets on, so he has a keen eye for his friends’ abilities and will take them into consideration.

Weaknesses

He can be rash and act out on his own accord when he thinks he’s right. That’s why his teammates are wary of him when a plan is a little more complex and ambiguous. This often creates problems for other team members because once Alfred starts improvising, they have to as well. It never ends well.

As earnest as he is, he tends to talk back to his superiors. Looks like he’s on toilet cleaning duty again.

He can let his emotions get in the way. Anger is not his friend. It clouds his mind and that’s when he’s the most reckless, and thus, vulnerable.

As skilled as he is, his blades tends to dull faster than everyone else’s because he puts them under too much pressure. He will be the first to break them and could wind up defenseless for a while, but he has an uncanny ability to survive against all odds.

Rank: 3rd

England

Unlike Alfred, freedom and justice isn’t his main motivation to join the Survey Corps. But there is one thing they share in common--a deep passion for the quest for discovery. As human beings, arguably the most intelligent species in existence, he finds it to be a devastating waste to know so little about the world he was born in.

Is there another civilization out there fighting titans like his people in the walls? What kinds of foreign cultures, languages and religions could be waiting for him to come into contact with? And is the ocean really something that exists? If it does, then there’s a whole new world in the waters waiting to be discovered. The answers to these profound questions are well worth dying for, especially for someone who embodies human curiosity.

Salvation comes in a little further down the list. He has his doubts on whether he can save the human race. But when the chance comes, his loyalty and determination will be unbreakable, and he will go to the most extreme means to seize the opportunity.

Fighting style:

Swift and resourceful, but unsociable

Strengths

He’s one of the fastest and most efficient 3DMG users. One of the reasons is that he can use his gas sparingly, but not without cutting back speed. That way, he can survive for longer without stopping to replenish.

With this in mind, Arthur can go back and save any comrades in a tight spot. That’s what makes him an irreplaceable member of any team--with him around, you have a higher chance of surviving.

He can move like nobody else can. Tight spaces and unexpected obstacles will not slow him down, as he can make sharp turns and good approximations under pressure.

Cunning and good at avoiding conflict. Rather than direct confrontations, whether its with people or titans, he will only fight when he absolutely has to. This minimizes expense of energy and resources, as well as casualties.

Arthur has impeccable navigation skills and threat perception. When he’s outside the walls and on horseback, he’s often right next to the soldier holding the colored flares. If not, he’s in charge of firing them. He can accurately estimate the distance between his squad to the nearest titan, and he always knows where he’s going. That’s how he can make all the right calls.

Weaknesses

He’s a bit hot-headed and rough around the edges. This will make working in a team harder. Other times, he just doesn’t talk at all. A rather poor communicator when it comes down to it.

While his leaner build gives him speed, it also makes him a little weaker in hand-to-hand combat. Height and weight does not put a cap on sparring abilities, but since he isn’t great at it in the first place, he ends up sustaining worse injuries.

Arthur’s stamina is pretty average. Usually, he makes up for it with his 3DMG skills and conflict avoidance, but when he has to fight, he won’t last forever. That’s where his speed comes in. He has to end things quickly, if not, he won’t make it.

He take things personally and lingers on any incidents that happen. He’s mentally weak, and does crack from time to time. So if someone doesn’t talk to him, he could spiral down a path of self-destruction because it’s hard for him to reach out.

Rank: 5th

China

Along with the pursuit of intellect and salvation, he sacrifices himself so that one day, future generations can live in a safe world free from titans. This priceless moment in history will not be forgotten, and instead, remembered as proof of the spirit of humanity, unwavering and strong in the face of adversity.

There’s nothing more human than fighting for a cause you believe in. To know this while confronting those beasts, the very opposite of a thinking and feeling human being, sparks a fire inside him to keep pushing. Like everyone else, he’s under the impression the people in the walls are what’s left of humanity--the last remnants of culture, intellect, love, and joy--and he will defend it until his last breath.

If anything, he’s one of the most selfless characters of all. He’s prepared to put everything and everyone else before him, because he knows he’s replaceable. But everything aforementioned isn’t, so he will choose to save them over himself in a heartbeat.

Fighting style:

Graceful and gifted

Strengths

He’s the dark horse of the military. Despite his friendly demeanor, Yao is incredibly talented and proficient in all areas, and keeps updated with the going-ons in the other regiments.

He’s the most skilled with his blades so they dull the slowest. He uses them as if they were an extension of his body. To many, all you have to do is slice hard and fast, but he has technique that lets him lengthen the life of his blade while maintaining a good, clean cut. This lets him last even longer than Alfred, who is rather reckless with his weapons. If he can kill twelve before replenishing, Yao can kill twenty.

Nobody can beat him in hand-to-hand combat, not even Ludwig. This is where the saying ‘size doesn’t matter’ comes in.

He knows a variety of martial arts, so it’s a given he can use moves targeting bigger opponents. If you somehow last more than two seconds, he’ll dodge and deflect any attacks you try to land on him, then retaliate so quickly, you’ll be down faster than you realize he even hit you. He’ll use your own limbs against you and make it seem like you’re hitting yourself.

His manoeuvring skills are impeccable and crazy fast. With his smaller build, he can beat Arthur. And while they’re both cunning, Yao prefers to use it to his advantage to exterminate threats rather than avoiding them. This draws a fine line between the two men, and makes him so dangerous. When it’s not just titans he’s killing, he is perceived as a threat by human enemies.

He can remain calm and resist the urge of panicking when faced with adversity. That way, he can keep his head and rely on logic to come up with a solution.

Weaknesses

Like Alfred, he can be unpredictable when plans are ambiguous and complex. He will have his own agenda, and is confident enough to pursue them, so this will cause some discord among team members. Fortunately, he isn’t as reckless and won’t rope others into trouble.

Unlike Alfred, he doesn’t have the same fire to survive. If his chances are incredibly slim, he will probably sit down and accept his demise, whereas Alfred will keep fighting until the bitter end. This sources from his belief that he is replaceable, and he shouldn’t waste energy avoiding something inevitable.

Rank: 1st

To all the AOT fans following my page, this is a treat for you! If people liked this, I’ll have a part two and include France, Italy, Japan, Spain and a few other characters. That’s when we’ll get even deeper into the lore, because not all of them will join the military but will have important roles all the same. Yes I’ve read the manga and watched all four seasons, so I’m also aware of the Azumabito clan. But there are no mentions of it here.

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cassandraclare · 4 years

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Not too spoilery, but very long!

fieidofpoppies said: I was hoping to get some clarification about the LGBT situation in TLH’s background.

What exactly is the Clave's position on homosexuality? Alec struggles with people's opinion in 2008, so I guess in 1900ish things are definitely not rosey, but to what extent? We know that being gay is considered a crime in mundane London at the time and I'm guessing that is not the case for the Shadowhunter world, so how seriously is it a problem? What does it/ would it mean for our characters to be out?

Okay, so I’ve gotten a few of this question, leading me to believe it is A Conversation that needs some addressing. It’s a complicated issue so I’m going to try to break it down in parts.

There is no “The Clave’s position on homosexuality” that is unchanging: it has changed, advanced and regressed through history just like you, know, regular human history. :) If you’re asking about the Clave’s position on LGBT Shadowhunters in 1903, we will get to that.

Just because Alec is struggling in 2007 doesn’t mean things were worse for Anna in 1903. The idea that culture moves inevitably forward towards tolerance and progressivism is an oversimplification. We see it assumed all around, so it’s easy to believe it, but actually it’s more of a two steps forward, one step back scenario. There are always periods of cultural progress, marked by periods of cultural regress. If someone had told me when I was a teenager that a woman’s right to choose would be more trammeled and in danger in 2020 America then in 1989 I wouldn’t have believed it; it is, however, the truth. We are in a more regressive period culturally now than we were ten years ago; LGBT rights are more under threat. This isn’t the first time in history this has happened and it won’t be the last: “During the golden years of the Weimar Republic [Germany's government from 1919 to 1933] Berlin was considered an LGBT+ haven, where gays and lesbians achieved an almost dizzying degree of visibility in popular culture” — but by 1934 LGBT+ Germans were being persecuted and eventually would be sent to death camps with Jews, communists, and other “undesirables.”

Alec is living in a time in which a regressive, conservative group that his own parents belonged to nearly toppled the more progressive aspects of the Clave. He already comes from a family in exile, during a time in which progressive and regressive aspects of the Clave are battling each other and the situation with Downworlders is explosive. Four years after Alec comes out, the fascist Cohort rises to power and splits the Clave in half. Nothing like that is happening in 1903: there is a progressive Consul in power, demon attacks are low, there is generally peace with Downworld.

It is reasonable that Alec would have concerns about how the Clave at large might treat him, and also have concerns about family and friends, given his parents’ past. And while Anna and Matthew etc. might have similar concerns about coming out to the whole Clave, which they haven’t, they are not concerned about their particular group of friends, and have mixed concerns about family. (Also, we have plenty of characters who have been just as worried about coming out as Alec was: Charles, Alastair, Ariadne. We don’t yet know Thomas’ attitude. Everyone who doesn’t consider themselves a “Bohemian” isn’t taking this very lightly, and even Matthew isn’t “out” to anyone except his friends. It’s not like the Wentworths know he’s bisexual.)

None of this is to say it was “easy” to be LGBT+ during the early 1900’s. It isn’t easy now. It’s to say that “Well, it sucked across the board then and now it’s great across the board!” isn’t true, and ignores the significance of context in the lives of characters — and people. There’s a great moment in the movie Colette (set in the 1890′s and early 1900′s) that focuses on Mathilde de Morny, Colette’s lover. Mathilde was assigned female at birth (academic scholars are widely divided on whether Mathile was transgender so I’m going to be gender-neutral here.) Mathilde dresses in men’s clothes, and openly romances women, but in this particular moment, Mathilde speaks about the fact that if Mathilde were not rich and titled, it might be a problem. But given Mathilde’s social status and power, and the Bohemian set of people Mathilde spends time with, it’s not. Colette herself also dresses in men’s clothes and is open about her same-sex romances, even kissing Mathilde onstage at the Moulin Rouge.

(Colette and Mathilde, 1907.)

The artist Romaine Brooks wore men’s clothes, even painting herself in them: according to the Smithsonian “By 1905, she had made a name for herself in Paris as a painter of women, some of whom were her lovers. Her most visible and lasting relationship was with the American poet Natalie Barney, who also lived in Paris.” (There’s a reason the characters are often talking about Paris or visiting Paris: being LGBT+ wasn’t illegal in France, and Paris was a gay and lesbian mecca, complete with LGBT+ cafes, high society, celebrities, and so on.)

People like Anna existed in the mundane world in 1903. It’s important to realize; this isn’t something I wrote because I’d have liked it to be true and historically accurate, it is true and historically accurate. It’s also true that even though male homosexuality was illegal in England in 1903, there were plenty of gay men who were out to their friends and community. Lytton Strachey (part of the Bloomsbury Group which included Virginia Woolf) “spoke openly about his homosexuality with his Bloomsbury friends, and had relationships with a variety of men.” Which isn’t to say he spoke openly about it to everyone — just that there have always been spaces within “mainstream” society where it was safe to be queer: Anna and Matthew, by going to the Hell Ruelle, by standing somewhat apart from their contemporaries save those they already trust, are inhabiting those spaces.

Now, if the question becomes: what happens if everyone in the Clave finds out the sexualities of the LGB+ characters in TLH? Well, first, they won’t be arrested; it’s not illegal. But that hardly covers the whole issue. We look at what happened to Oscar Wilde and think, horrors, as well we should — had he not sued the Marquess of Queensberry, though, he probably would have lived out his life with society turning a blind eye to his affairs with men. What happened to him is fucking terrible. Yet even today, there are celebrities who remain in the closet — though their queerness may well be an open secret to their friends, family and colleagues — not because they’re worried about being arrested, but because of the fear of what the damage to their career might be were it publicly known. And how is that so different from the situation Charles finds himself in? He’s pretty clear that if people knew he were gay, he couldn’t be Consul. He wouldn’t get the votes. In the same way, it’s likely that the other LGB+ characters would face societal disapproval and issues with their families. That’s not really about the “Clave’s official position” though, any more than a politician today not wanting to come out is worried about being arrested rather than losing their career. The official position is important, but it’s not the only indicator or generator of societal, systemic bigotry. (” It turns out that one of the worst times to be a homosexual - that is, in terms of being at risk from the law - was in the run-up to and aftermath of the liberalisation of the 1960s [when homosexuality was decriminalized].” )

So if you made it this far: what I’m basically saying is three things: one, that any comparison to Alec has to take into account Alec’s specific family situation, the Uprising, and who the Clave and Inquisitor are in 2007. And that I can’t say what it means for the characters of TLH to be out because it’s going to mean different things, and have different repercussions, for all of them. I can say “They won’t be in trouble with the Law”, which is true, but in terms of their family situations, their personal goals and dreams, and where they are socially, it would be different for each one of them.

And third, that we can’t assume that progress is one inevitable forward march. That things will always be more tolerant, less oppressive, in “the future” simply because it’s the future. While we can believe that “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice” it’s important to remember that rights can be abridged, freedoms taken away, times of tolerance and harmony can end, bigotry and nationalism can rise. To assume progress is inevitable is, I worry, to forget to fight for it. And we can never forget to fight.

[Recommended reading: Strangers: Homosexual Love in the Nineteenth Century, by Graham Robb.]

#the last hours #chain of gold #spoilers #tlh

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akiiyamashun · 2 years

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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO (I mean, he’s often called ‘pretty boy’ or ‘handsome’ and is implied to be attractive in-game)

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO

Are they underrated? YES / NO

Were they relevant to the main story? YES / NO

Were they relevant to the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO.

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon?

I try to incorporate all canon bits into my writing, but mostly weave these parts together with a lot of my own headcanons and interpretations of the things that I think could lead Akiyama to ultimately be who he is and act the way he does. He’s a very interesting and unique character - the one civilian who’s constantly dragged into Yakuza business and who lives in this very much gray zone in terms of morality but who is one of the good guys at his core.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutual.

Akiyama’s charisma is off the charts - it’s impossible not to like him! I try my best to bring his sense of humor and how smooth he is to the writing, because to me that’s one of his trademarks - a lot of charm, very skilled conversationalist and overall likeable person who entrances others quite easily. It makes a lot of sense that during his chapters in Y4 you can enlist others as your ‘allies’, because he just makes connections that fast.

His adaptability to life - he doesn’t shy away from the period of homelessness and how it ultimately freed him? He goes as far as thanking the man who framed and destroyed his (once) brilliant career for this. Akiyama becomes someone so comfortable in his own skin and so genuine - he’s one extremely resilient person even if sometimes it looks like blind luck (it’s not - his strength is less tangible and physical).

He has plot reasons to be mostly anywhere and do everything - I mean, he ended up babysitting idols, waltzing right into evil lairs of badass yakuza to accuse them of crimes and using his own fortune to bait others. He’s a super unpredictable but devoted individual who will stop at nothing to get to the bottom of things or protect the town he loves while being a civilian - so he’s not bound by the Tojo hierarchy at all. Nothing is really out of character for this man. Not even dance battles.

Brains over brawn for once - Akiyama can fight (and does so with style!), but that is not his preferred way of solving problems. By nature he’s diplomatic and very intelligent, and he will try to to avoid unnecessary fights if possible - but if all comes down to kicking the bastards where it hurts, he’ll do it. I think his approach to things in a franchise built on Kiryu punching his way through problems is super refreshing - and adds a lot of variety. :)

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).

Akiyama being seen as the ‘humorous’ character or someone just ‘lazy’ and incapable of doing his job correctly. I have a LOT of feelings here - and I disagree with this overall idea that Akiyama is a ‘joke’ - but I can see him being considered some sort of walking meme and leading people to believe he’s just not worth their time to build an interesting plot (despite the fact he’s the protagonist of 3 games and a supporting character in at least other 2).

The fact he’s not as strong when compared to other protagonists of the franchise - and this is true; if you put Akiyama side by side with most guys who have been given the spotlight over the years, Akiyama is probably stronger than Tanimura only (or maybe it’s a tie). He doesn’t look like your typical Yakuza protagonist - he doesn’t even punch others when fighting, it’s just kicking! I can see this being something that would rank him ‘lower’ or as someone ‘less interesting’ or ‘less important’ because he’s not hitting others like a derailed freight train such as Saejima or Kiryu.

What inspired you to rp your muse?

I was smitten with Akiyama after five minutes with him, really. I loved how fresh his interactions with Hana sounded, and the way he talked to people was so open and fun for once (Kiryu is not a great conversationalist, let’s face it). Then his introduction by Kido, where he gets described so mysteriously and yet with these obvious pointers towards the way he fosters other people’s dreams and his unpredictable behavior? An immediate win for me.

Akiyama is so entertaining - his charm, his lines, his voice (thank you Yamadera Koichi for this AWESOME job), his substories, the fighting style, the dancing battles! Honestly there is nothing about Akiyama that I don’t adore - he’s hard to read, smooth like silk, good guy at his heart, awesome sense of humor, devilish handsome, looks like he knows how to please a woman and leave them craving for more, incredibly smart to the point of being complimented by an actual police detective - hell yeah. What’s not to love?

What keeps your inspiration going?

Akiyama does it by himself, haha. Honestly, the games and the existing lore have done plenty, and I’ve gone really deep into what I perceive as his motivations/drivers. The second thing in addition to canon sources is the interest/discussions with partners? Really, @sixthxchairman has played a fundamental role here, from giving me a space to run him as a test muse to listening to a lot of incessant yelling about all things Akiyama. Having someone else interested in him makes me want explore all the sides of the muse. :)

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO (I mean, I have PAGES written about Akiyama and everything, I hope this is coherent?).

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO.

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO.

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO.

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO / More like getting to ‘yes’ with each passing day?

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO / Increasingly getting to yes?

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO.

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?

Yes, to a degree. Akiyama is not my character so of course there are a lot of things I’ve built and developed/fleshed out that may be different from what the creators intended or even other muns would have imagined/explored with him. I will say I do not oppose criticism if it’s rooted in actual canon and happens to be something that heavily contradicts what Akiyama does in such official sources - I do not write him as canon divergent, after all.

However, a lot about my Akiyama portrayal is my own; there is a heavy influence of my headcanons in relation to his hobbies, likes & dislikes, preferences, tastes, etc. These details are all very fundamental in how I write him and will show up in my replies - his disregard for hierarchy, the way he likes to be underestimated, the way he talks to and acts around people etc. On these aspects of my interpretation, I’d prefer not to get any criticism on simply because there is no right or wrong; I just appreciate that there are different views on what makes Akiyama who he is and I’d rather not be compared.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?

Yes! These are always fun and often directed at stuff I haven’t yet thought about, so I love working on these headcanon asks. :)

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?

I am willing to listen, sure - especially if it is rooted in canon sources, as indicated above. I don’t care much for someone arguing something like ‘Akiyama cannot play the violin because he’s obviously a trumpet player’ - there is no way either of us will know for sure unless the creators one day say something about it. But other than that, I welcome good discussions and how we may view the same scene differently (for instance, the ending of Y5 when Watase and the other families bowed to Akiyama - I interpreted that scene in a way, other people may be able to see it in another direction).

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?

As long as this doesn’t translate to anon hate (which simply gets blocked), then I have nothing to say about it! I think everyone has the right to disagree with my views and perceptions of Akiyama, I just don’t see the point of lingering around and following me if that is the case. I’m always excited to yell about him and discuss plots/interactions with willing parties - but if my version of Akiyama isn’t someone’s cup of tea, I’m sure there are other takes on him that will work well for these people.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?

I would frankly be surprised because, at least online, Akiyama sounds like he’s a REALLY popular fella with a very good fanbase - and I personally think that Akiyama is a fucking delight and I worship the ground he walks on - but to each their own? Again, I disagree with some of the takes I see on Akiyama where he’s reduced to some sort of failure or joke who’s incapable of doing anything by himself, but as long as the hate for Akiyama does not translate in anon hate/actual fandom war, I have no issue with that.

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?

YES, ALWAYS. IN FACT, PLEASE DO. I am not a native English speaker and while I do check spelling/meaning of certain words sometimes, there is always a typo or some random word that escapes my review and makes me groan when reviewing my replies later. I will always appreciate anyone helping me correct and grow as a writer. :)

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?

Yes! I have no anxiety in terms of approaching first, offering ideas, etc. In fact, I’m super talkative and I love meeting other muns, so unless you are not into typing lots (because I do it all the time!), I’m pretty positive I’m not intimidating/shy and generally referred to as a friendly mun? I hope my mutuals were not lying about it, haha.

#iv. headcanon #ix. meme

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kristal-dawn-art · 3 years

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Jujutsu Kaisen OC Reika

I couldn’t resist, so here’s my OC for JJK.

Name: Kougetsu Reika (紅月霊花) Alias: Rei Species: Human; sorcerer Birthday: August 30 Zodiac sign: Virgo Age: 16 Gender: Female Height/Weight: 163cm/ (5’4” Hair/Eye Color: Deep auburn/dark gold Status: Alive Relatives: Kougetsu Toshihiro (father); Kougetsu Mika (mother); Gojou Satoru (distant relative); Okkotsu Yuta (distant relative) Occupation: Student/Jujutsu Sorcerer Affiliation: Kougetsu Clan; later Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School

More info under the cut XD;

Appearance: Reika has fair skin, dark golden eyes, and deep auburn hair that she wears in a side ponytail with a 3-part fringe. She favors comfortable clothing that is easy to move in, with a typical outfit consisting of a purple shirt paired with a gray-and-pink jacket, denim skirt, dark leggings and running shoes. Her school uniform consists of a purple tank top tucked into a short pleated uniform skirt. Leggings, running shoes, and a short-sleeve uniform jacket complete the look.

Personality: Reika enjoys observing others as much as she loves interacting with them - well, as much as she can observe given her situation - and because of how sheltered she’d been before enrolling at Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School (aka Jujutsu Tech), she jumps at the chance to befriend someone. She’s fairly straightforward in her words and actions, whichever is more appropriate in a given situation. While not too much of a conversationalist, she’s happy to keep someone company, if she feels they need it.

For the most part, she wears her emotions on her sleeve, and her tone of voice is a very good indicator of how she’s feeling. Rarely does she feel the need to hide her emotions, but when she does, she does it fairly well. Being a studious sort, she dislikes it when someone interrupts another person while they’re explaining something, and will often clap a hand over the offending party’s mouth.

She’s not that good at picking up on tension in a room, so to speak, but she can make a good guess at how people are feeling, and if they’re feeling down, she’ll try to help them feel better. Overall, she likes knowing she can help others, and is happy to play the support role whenever on assignment. She also hates ‘seeing’ someone get hurt, whether or not they show they’re in pain. Even while worrying for someone, she’s able to keep a cool head, and will choose her next actions in such a way that she’ll have time to tend to the injured person if necessary.

ABILITIES AND POWERS

Overall skill level: At present, Reika is a strong Grade 2 sorcerer, though her precise control of and sensitivity to cursed energy, plus the speed at which she masters different forms and applications of her inherited technique makes it possible for her to move on to being at least a semi-Grade 1.

Extreme sensitivity and energy control: Because she is both deaf and blind, Reika’s other senses plus her ability to sense cursed energy are all highly enhanced. She can feel movement through minute changes in air pressure and thanks to her Curse Sensing, and reading the flow of another’s cursed energy tells her also how much was expended. Training also helped her get a feel for how much energy she has to use to get a certain effect.

Enhanced mobility: Reika’s training to use cursed energy to fuel her movements has improved her speed and reflexes. So while not as fast as individuals like Yuuji or Maki who have innate physical talent, Reika is still able to move very well in combat, with little to no wasted movement.

Competent combatant: Even though her training and her personal preference had her focus on defensive applications of her technique, she can still do a reasonable amount of damage when necessary and thus can hold her own reasonably well.

JUJUTSU Cursed Energy Manipulation Great Cursed Energy: Reika’s inherited technique, overall, takes much cursed energy to use, even if the individual techniques don’t use a lot. Training further helped Reika learn to conserve her energy and use the appropriate technique for a situation. This, combined with the overall effect of the Kougetsu clan’s inherited technique, means that Reika has a high amount of cursed energy to work with at any given time. Drawn-out fights are challenging for her, but alternating between manipulating her opponent’s energy and her own can help her last longer, though not without taking a toll on her body.

Inherited Technique Hands of Tsukuyomi. Believed to be an offshoot of Limitless, this technique hinges on users being able to manipulate both their own cursed energy and an opponent’s to achieve a variety of effects. At its most basic and on the surface level, Hands of Tsukuyomi can disguise or suppress the user’s cursed energy, allowing them to pass as civilians. Users may also gain enhanced speed and mobility by fueling their movements with cursed energy, and increasing the impact of any physical attacks they may employ. The technique’s more advanced forms let users divert cursed energy, absorb it, and amplify the effects of an ally’s technique. Extremely advanced applications of the technique see users manipulating light to distort what opponents see, and even unleashing a barrage of compressed light over a desired area.

All forms fall under one of four phases, each one focusing on a particular general effect. Full Moon focuses on amplification, Waning Moon covers absorption, Crescent Moon deals with redirection, and New Moon focuses on negation. Regardless of form, the user needs precise control to achieve the desired effect. Only a handful of users are able to use more than 2 phases, and while they can and do master at least one, true Hands of Tsukuyomi masters are able to use forms from all four, flowing from one to another depending on the situation. Reika herself is regarded by her family to be a highly gifted user as she is only one of three Kougetsu sorcerers so far who have learned to use Hands of Tsukuyomi to heal themselves and others.

In most cases, activating a technique requires a specific series of hand seals from a fixed set of 12, based on the lunar zodiac, and the user concentrating on the desired effect, including range (if any) and the target. The only techniques so far that don’t require these seals are Reika’s Curse Sensing, Tidal Flow, and Shroud.

Benefits:

Users being able to reflect an opponent’s cursed energy and any effects of these back at the original user (e.g. a user would be able to deflect Mahito’s “Idle Transformation” and possibly cause him to transform instead into a form he wasn’t planning) along with the precise control of their own cursed energy allows them to last longer in combat, compared to if they were to rely on their cursed energy alone.

Users are also able to increase the effectiveness, strength, range, or duration of techniques when using more energy than typically required. For instance, users can move twice as fast when fueling their movements, or reflect more than one cursed technique simultaneously.

Drawbacks:

The stronger the opponent, the more difficult it is to make their technique rebound completely; the user will either have to use more cursed energy, or deal with the technique in a different way (absorb or negate it).

The more powerful forms take longer to master and use up a lot of cursed energy, so if they’re countered or don’t work out as well, the user may be worse off than if they hadn’t used said forms.

Overuse causes users to suffer from paralysis in one or two limbs, an inability to speak, blurred vision, muscle pain, or a combination of any of those. The more powerful the form that was last used, the bigger the toll it takes on the body. In the worst-case scenario, a user may pass out from the physical and mental strain.

Techniques:

Full Moon: Zenith (満月: 天頂 ; Mangetsu: Tenchou) After activating the technique, Reika lays a hand on an ally and channels some of her cursed energy into them the moment they deploy a technique of their own, thereby strengthening it (e.g. Fushiguro’s shikigami will be harder to destroy) or amplifying the effect (e.g. Inumaki’s cursed speech won’t create as much of a backlash).

Full Moon: Moonbeam (満月: 月光; Mangetsu: Gekkou) Reika compresses light and unleashes it in a barrage of beams that she can direct freely, and even redirect if they haven’t made contact yet. The bigger the area of effect, the fewer the projectiles launched.

Waning Moon: Afterimage (下弦の月: 残像 ; Kagen no Tsuki: Zanzou) -description to be added-

Waning Moon: Kaleidoscope (下弦の月: 万華鏡; Kagen no Tsuki: Mangekyou) Reika alters the surroundings to conceal her and her allies’ location while also setting up a protective barrier. While active, the barrier absorbs the energy from cursed techniques targeting her or her ally, creating a well for Reika to tap into later. This takes a lot of concentration, so if she’s distracted, the barrier fails to absorb the energy, thus exposing the illusion.

Crescent Moon: Mirror (三日月: 鏡; Mikazuki: Kagami) Reika controls the trajectory (?) of another individual’s cursed energy, turning it back on them or onto a different target. The effect is usually instantaneous and she doesn’t have to keep the technique activated, unless the user is of a higher grade. When that happens, she needs to keep it active until the redirected energy hits the new target. This technique doesn’t work against special-grade opponents, though, and is tricky to use when there are more than two opponents.

Crescent Moon: Haze (三日月: 朧; Mikazuki: Oboro) A more advanced form that Reika is still trying to master. In theory, she would be able to arrest the flow of cursed energy from multiple targets, making it appear as if their techniques were deactivated. Then, she’d redirect the trajectory of each one (e.g have Kamo’s arrows target someone else, or make Hanami’s plants grow in a different direction) before letting the attacks go through to their new targets. Reika left Jujutsu Tech not long after enrolling to learn this technique from a relative.

New Moon: Disruption (新月: 破壊; Shingetsu: Hakai) This technique enables Reika to negate or forcibly deactivate a technique deployed by someone else. However, both her feet need to be planted - similar to the Simple Domain - and the user whose technique she wishes to deactivate must be within 10 meters of her.

New Moon: Umbra (新月: 本影; Shingetsu: Honei) An advanced version of Disruption that Reika is still trying to master, it functions similarly to a Simple Domain, but instead of requiring the feet to stay set at the point the technique was deployed, it calls for Reika to keep her hands in the necessary seal and concentrating on keeping the flow of energy around her constant. Its range is just 3 meters, but Reika doesn’t need to stay grounded, so it’s more versatile and can be activated even in the air. This is another technique that Reika had to learn from a relative.

Others:

Energy Sensing. Reika’s energy grid that she uses primarily for navigation, but can be used in combat and to sense approaching cursed spirits. Reika can quickly react to whatever information she gets from it.

Tidal Flow. Reika uses cursed energy to enhance her actions in combat.

Tidal Strike. Reika channels cursed energy into her hands or feet and compresses it for precise strikes; the effect is more slicing or piercing compared to the blunt force from, say, Itadori’s.

Shroud. A reversed curse technique involving Reika surrounding herself or others with negative cursed energy to heal injuries.

Barrier Techniques Eclipsing Light (食の光; Shoku no Hikari) Reika creates a protective barrier of compressed light around her and the target. While active, the barrier steadily absorbs the target’s cursed energy, preventing them from using any techniques. She then reverses the flow of the energy, releasing it in either a barrage of multiple projectiles from above or as a single, focused beam originating from her outstretched palms. The domain is still incomplete.

Story: The only child of the current head of the Kougetsu Family, Reika was born both blind and deaf, which made both her parents reluctant to have her train as a sorcerer, even if she later proved to inherit their clan’s Cursed Technique.

As time passed, it became obvious that the little girl’s other senses were enhanced. Using vibrations in the ground and in the air, she was able to tell when someone nearby was talking or when something was being moved. She proved herself capable of using and controlling cursed energy earlier than other young sorcerers, soon figuring out how to lay strings of energy out in a grid pattern and using that to ‘see’ her surroundings.

Because of her clan’s stance on sorcerer society and her parents’ protectiveness, she lived a sheltered life, rarely leaving the family compound and interacting only with family members and teachers brought in to tutor her. Eventually, however, Reika asked that she train in both hand-to-hand combat and the use of her Inherited Technique, arguing that she needed to be able to rely on herself as well, not just on family members, to keep herself safe. Toshihiro and Mika agreed, making sure she learned to suppress her cursed energy so she’d appear as a civilian to any sorcerers and cursed spirits, even when using her energy grid to navigate. The last thing they wanted was for their only child to be endangered, or to draw the attention of other sorcerers.

As her skills improved, Reika took to going out on her own to explore the city, eventually encountering cursed spirits. The harmless ones she left alone, but not the more threatening ones. She often led these back to the Kougetsu family compound for more experienced sorcerers to exorcise. At some point, however, she grew confident enough in her abilities and began exorcising spirits herself when she perceived they had less energy than she did and she could do so without endangering civilians.

During one such outing, Gojou witnessed her luring a cursed spirit into an alley before exorcising it, and became intrigued when he learned the younger one could neither see nor hear - likely a result of a Heavenly Restriction. When his superiors learned of Reika, they called for her enrollment at Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School, reasoning that she’d need field training her family might be unable to provide. Reika’s parents were reluctant to let her go, but the young teen was eager to leave. For her, it was a chance to live away from her protective family members, to test her abilities as much as possible while keeping others safe - civilian or sorcerer - and to learn more about her role as a sorcerer. She entered Jujutsu Tech soon after the Kyoto Sister School Goodwill Event.

Trivia

Reika has to touch someone’s face or throat to be able to tell what they’re saying, using the vibrations to interpret the words. Otherwise, someone needs to sign into her palm to give her information directly.

The Kougetsu Clan doesn’t condone the way sorcerers in Japan are treated, or how the society functions as a whole. Because of this, Kougetsu sorcerers went largely unregistered for 5 generations, their technique relatively unknown. Reika enrolling at Jujutsu Tech broke this pattern.

Reika aspires to be like Maki when it comes to hand-to-hand combat.

When meeting someone for the first time, she asks if she can touch their face. To her, Gojou has a lively face, Fushiguro and Itadori both have kind faces, while Kugisaki’s is determined. Panda’s is friendly, Maki’s is strong, and Inumaki’s is gentle.

Reika says that different colors feel different to her, and she picks out clothing based on that.

Seiyuu/VA: Nitta Emi (JPN)/Cherami Leigh (ENG)

#Kaedraws #dawnlitdrawings #myart #krisart #kristart #Jujutsu Kaisen #Jujutsu Kaisen OC #JJK #JJK OC #original character #fan character #digital art #Jujutsu Kaisen fan character #JJK sorcerer

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loveisneurotic · 3 years

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Kaguya-sama Blind Reaction/Analysis: S1E1

Hello everyone, this is my blog which I am currently using to react to and analyze Kaguya-sama: Love Is War much more seriously than I should analyze any romcom.

I have only seen the first episode of the anime, which this post shall explore using far too many words. If I'm feeling particularly motivated, I may read the manga as well.

My analysis will contain spoilers. If you're thinking of watching this show and haven't seen it yet, I recommend you at least go check out the first episode yourself before reading any further. I don't know what the rest of the show is like, but what I've seen so far has been both entertaining and thought-provoking.

I'm going in mostly blind, but not entirely blind. There are a few images of the anime and manga that I have been exposed to, although without the attached context. Due to cultural osmosis and the sheer popularity of this work, perhaps that was almost inevitable.

Figure 1.1.1: Why did this guy write an essay about a single episode of an ongoing romcom?

Kaguya-sama: Love Is War

Season 1 Episode 1

I Will Make You Invite Me to a Movie / Kaguya Wants to Be Stopped / Kaguya Wants It

Power dynamics in relationships

Figure 1.1.2: Immediately, the mangaka's tastes become clear.

I heard a saying once that really stuck with me: "The partner who cares the least has all of the power."

In the world of dating, I often sincerely believed this saying. You may yearn for someone's affection, but the other person need not give it to you until they are willing and ready. No matter how much you want it, you can't make someone more interested in you, unless you resort to being roundabout, such as adding some mystery and intrigue to your courtship. But is that excessive?

I once felt a potential lover slipping through my grasp, and before I knew it, I found myself chasing after them. As I was yearning for their attention, I felt as if I'd lost my dignity. It was humiliating. Painful. Was it just that they weren't the right person for me? Or was I not funny enough? Not charismatic enough? Not interesting enough? Too clingy? Too talkative? Should I have been more distant and given them more space? Did I seem too weak? Too eager? How should I have maximized my desirability? Regardless, I had surely lost. Perhaps they wanted the satisfaction and validation of conquering me. Playing me for a fool and asserting their superiority by being so distant. Isn't that right? Or is that just insecurity speaking? At what point is it ideal to cut one's losses and walk away?

If someone desperately wants the object of their affection to desire them, does that make them pathetic? Does it make them a loser? If you show more vulnerability and desire than the other person, does that truly make you the weak one in a relationship?

These questions plague our two protagonists and seem to be a driving force behind the main conflict. Since I have also grappled with how much to reveal my own feelings of desire, I find Kaguya-sama: Love Is War to be a particularly fascinating show.

Desire without action

Figure 1.1.3: Our protagonists are gifted with impressively high academic intelligence paired with impressively low emotional intelligence.

The show wastes no time in introducing us to our two main protagonists. Kaguya was born into a family of high stature (and says "ara ara" frequently enough to power a small country of weebs), whereas Shirogane is a "commoner" (Kaguya's word, not mine) who worked hard to reach the pinnacle of the student body. Like timid schoolchildren, they're crushing on each other, and yet they refuse to admit it due to their pride. Instead, they focus on getting their "opponent" to confess their love first.

What stuck out to me immediately is how they both have different ideas of what their relationship would be like. Shirogane envisions Kaguya as blushing, shy, and conventionally cute, whereas Kaguya (thankfully) envisions herself taking absolute dominance over Shirogane (which plenty of people should see coming as a character trait after the anime's very first scene). The bad news about this is that their two fantasies are at odds. The good news about this is that the mangaka has fantastic taste -- you can learn a lot about a storyteller based on the characterization of a love interest or lead character of the author's preferred gender.

In the event that the two of them become an actual couple, I wonder how on Earth they'll reach a compromise as to how they'll treat each other. Perhaps they will have to figure that out before they can even get that intimate.

I appreciate that we get to see both of their perspectives. It hammers home how everyone has a different truth in regards to what they desire and what they experience, and the show does not hold back when it comes to showing just how different these truths can be -- such as a certain lunch-themed sequence that I will talk about later. This works to great dramatic and comedic effect.

That said, when you spend your time fantasizing about what could happen instead of actually taking action, time is not so friendly to you.

Half a year passes.

Figure 1.1.4: Two geniuses dedicate their pride to wasting their life and energy.

Immediately, I got the impression that whoever wrote this segment of the story knows what they're doing. This is too real. And by "too real", I mean I very much appreciate the realism. How many of us have waited for ages (or for eternity) to confess our feelings to a specific someone?

This is the curse of having a crush and being incapable of acting on it. It's also why I hate having crushes.

Manufacturing affection in others, AKA the extraction of vulnerability

Figure 1.1.5: A plan is devised to weaponize jealousy in the name of affection.

To express your truest feelings means being vulnerable. That implies taking a risk and feeling responsible for any potential consequences of rejection, as well as putting our dignity on the line. It would be so much easier for the object of our affection to make themselves vulnerable instead. So instead of being direct and honest, we act indirect. We drop hints. We act suggestively, but not explicitly. We may even place them in situations where we think they are more likely to confess. If they don't pick up on it, we can pretend we didn't mean anything by it. That way, we don't have to risk our dignity. We can just wait for them to make the move.

It sucks.

Incidentally, it sucks even more when both you and your love interest are thinking that way.

It sucks infinitely more when both you and your love interest are COMMITTED to thinking that way.

Someone has to break the deadlock, whether that's immediately or eventually.

If this show isn't one of those romcoms where the status quo never changes ever (judging by the quality of writing, I have faith that it isn't), then at some point, either Shirogane or Kaguya is going to have to be explicit about how they really feel. And it's going to feel scarier to them than anything else they've ever done.

It's gonna be great.

If we could all grow up and live in environments where it's safe and encouraged for all of us to be honest about how we feel and what we want, surely love would be much less painful for so many people.

Chaos theory

Figure 1.1.6: If your prospective lover won't protect you, then your friend definitely will.

Chika is the ideal wild card and agent of chaos in this arena of love.

From a writing perspective, Chika is immensely useful. The mangaka probably could have gotten by without a third character in the mix, but she serves as a catalyst and an unknown element, able to create unpredictability and subversion of expectations. For a comedy-oriented story, this is invaluable.

Blissfully unaware of the mental turmoil that plagues our two lovesick dorks, she is able to unintentionally invalidate whatever schemes that Kaguya or Shirogane spent so much mental energy on, which adds extra comedy and tension for the audience. She is also an effective vehicle for Kaguya's jealousy and projection, as seen in the lunchbox scene which I have so graciously foreshadowed.

Figure 1.1.7: We have confirmed visual on an unidentified fourth person. Chekhov would love this. From their posture, I wonder if they'll be a gloomy character?

Misunderstandings and assumptions

I've heard that most interpersonal conflicts in life emerge from misunderstandings. In the absence of communication, assumptions are born and give rise to misunderstandings.

You may know where I'm going with this. Let's talk about the lunchbox sequence.

Figure 1.1.8 (not pictured because tumblr wishes to deny me of my image spam): Kaguya is too prideful to admit she thinks that a couple is doing something cute.

Figure 1.1.9: Pride is considered a sin for a reason.

From a writing perspective, I was impressed by the lack of romantic intentions in Shirogane in this whole sequence. Not once did he try to get Kaguya to show vulnerability to him. Instead, Kaguya is the only one spinning the situation in a romantic way, while Shirogane's driving force is the misunderstanding that Kaguya is looking down on him for what he eats. Because of this misunderstanding, Shirogane doubles down and makes his food even better, making the situation even more complicated and more stressful for Kaguya. This was definitely my favorite comedy sequence from the first episode.

I appreciate that the show has demonstrated the ability to create these scenarios where one of the characters doesn't even have love on their mind, but there are still romantic thoughts coming from the other character which drives the drama. It gives me a lot of faith in the variety this show will have to offer, and makes me excited to watch more.

When it comes to comedy rooted in misunderstandings, it is important to have miscommunication or lack of communication. In order to resolve a misunderstanding, you need to talk about it. For a pairing as dysfunctional as Kaguya and Shirogane, expecting healthy communication sounds highly unreasonable, which makes them prime material for a whole world of misunderstandings.

Misunderstandings are rooted in assumptions about what the other person meant when they said something or made a certain gesture or expression. When Kaguya glared at Shirogane and his food, he didn't even think to ask "What's the matter?" He just made an assumption about how she felt. I wonder if trying to understand Kaguya's feelings would be considered a sign of weakness by Shirogane?

A prerequisite to initiating an emotional conversation is the desire to understand or be understood by the other person -- assuming that your assumptions haven't already built a narrative for you. It is far easier to make assumptions than it is to attempt any sort of understanding.

In the end, Shirogane fled, unwilling to confront or attempt to understand the intense and passive-aggressive Kaguya. Kaguya feels that she cannot directly ask to try his lunch, so perhaps this is the closest she can get to initiating such a conversation with him at this time. Despite their mind games where they imagine the reactions of their opponent, they still have a lot of difficulty understanding each other.

I am curious to see if this prospective couple's communication skills and emotional intelligence will improve over the course of the story.

The burden of potential romance

Figure 1.1.10: Even the infallible genius Kaguya succumbs to superficial jealousy. It's "mind over matter" versus "matter over mind". That's how the saying goes, right?

Chika is a free spirit, able to ask Shirogane for whatever she wants without being neurotic. That is the power of not being bounded by a crush. Kaguya, who lacks that degree of freedom, briefly loathes her for experiencing something that Kaguya cannot ask for. It's amazing how much someone's feelings for a friend can change without a single word being spoken between them. All it takes is an action, unintentional or not, combined with the raw strength of insecurity. Just as quickly, the status quo can return back to normal too, with the act of properly making up.

To Chika, asking for food from someone doesn't mean anything at all, whereas with Kaguya, it is an admission of defeat. In that sense, a relationship that will only ever be platonic brings peace of mind, whereas a relationship that can be potentially romantic brings leagues upon leagues of anxiety if the outcome is of great concern.

Love is neurotic.

Is love worth the pain? For some people, it is not. For others, the reward is immense -- but only if you can make sure your relationship with this person doesn't end up being a nightmare for your emotional health.

Love and self-identity

The final scene of the episode surprised me in a good way. It's a brief departure from the comedy, and reveals a more heartfelt side of the show.

Kaguya's servant asks her an insightful question. It is substantially more insightful than I would expect from any romcom: "If you fell in love some day, would you wait for that person to confess their love, like now? Or would you confess your love?" I found myself immediately curious to hear Kaguya's answer, since I knew it would be highly informative about her character.

"If that time comes, I would consider the risk of someone stealing him first and come to the one rational conclusion." Even in the realm of love, Kaguya seems precise and calculating. It's as if she hesitates to give a straight answer, but then she confirms: "Of course I would go."

Figure 1.1.11: "Please understand."

It is not embarrassment or rejection that Kaguya fears; it is the absolute destruction of her identity and sense of self. Kaguya is the daughter of a family that practically runs the country. In her mind, everyone yearns for her and wishes to serve her. Turning that around and reaching out to another person to express her own desire would be a direct contradiction of that. It is probably a similar situation for Shirogane, where the infallible self-image he has built up is being put at risk during his romantic duels against Kaguya.

Kaguya clearly feels trapped. She and Shirogane see each other as threats to be conquered, but in reality, they both share a mutual enemy that is much more imposing and insidious: their own simultaneous disgust at the idea of vulnerability.

Their freedom is dominated by their insecurities, and so, even despite their impressive stature, they are still very human. Their upbringing that has lead them to become so accomplished may be more of a curse than a blessing, due to the resulting pride and self-image they likely feel pressured to uphold.

It is hard to cast aside a lie that you have bought into for your whole life.

If our two protagonists wish to have a chance of establishing a healthy romantic relationship, they have a lot of their own demons to overcome first. If they cannot set aside their pride and reach mutual understanding, they have no hope.

Until then, they will both remain trapped in a hell of their own design, however tragically comedic it may be.

My hopes for this story's future

I can tell that the mangaka, unlike far too many writers all over the world, actually seems to have a solid understanding of romance and the conflict that arises within. I've watched too many anime that place huge focus on the "will they or won't they" crap which never runs any deeper than one or both of the characters being too embarrassed to just say what they're thinking, without any sort of convincing mental blocker. In that case, it's clearly just manufactured drama which is designed to pad out the story and waste your time rather than pose interesting questions and themes. In the case of Kaguya and Shirogane, the two of them have substantial communication issues which are depicted in a comedic yet mature way, which I have found engaging.

I very much hope that the show will more deeply explore the themes and questions surrounding the ideas of vulnerability, emotional intelligence, and superiority within relationships. Kaguya and Shirogane have been set up to be great vehicles for such exploration, and I hope the mangaka can capitalize on that, especially if our protagonists can confront these issues directly.

My impression is that the ending will make or break this story. If the mangaka can pull it off well, I can already believe the payoff will be hugely satisfying.

Of course, in order to get to that point, we'll have to see a certain something. It has to do with the most sacred word amongst romcom enthusiasts: "progress". Indeed, after spending chapters upon chapters watching two characters bumble around amidst the same exact status quo, those little signs of advancements in a relationship are highly rewarding.

Underneath all of their aggression, if we can see Kaguya and Shirogane slowly open up to each other and realize the benefits of vulnerability, I think we could witness something really beautiful and really emotionally cathartic.

I've still only seen one episode, but I believe the mangaka has laid a fantastic groundwork for a series and can do a great job developing upon what I've seen so far. On that note, I will surpass our prideful protagonists by opening my heart to this story and entrusting it with my vulnerability, believing it can deliver satisfying development and resolution. You can do it!

Closing thoughts

I did not expect to write so much about a single episode of an ANIME of all things, but here we are. If only I could conjure this kind of power back when I actually needed it in high school English class!

The first episode alone is already so rich with characterization and themes that I managed to find quite a lot to talk about. Given how much I found myself relating to the characters and some of their situations, it's clear to me how this show became so popular. Not only are the animation, direction, and writing excellent, but also many people can probably relate to love feeling like a battlefield.

I do not want to believe in the idea of winners and losers in relationships. That idea creeps into my head whenever I'm having trouble keeping the interest of a new date, and I find myself wondering where those thoughts even come from. Lately, I have been reflecting on the way I relate to other people. Perhaps I've started experiencing this show at a time in my life when I most needed it, and that's why I felt driven to write such a large analysis.

This show poses some very interesting questions about romance that I do not actually know the answer to at the time of writing. I do not know yet how much the show is actually going to explore these themes. Regardless, I appreciate how this show is helping me reflect, and I am curious to see if and how the mangaka will answer some of the questions brought about by the story's themes.

This is a show that I'll most likely have to pace myself with. There was so much to process in this first episode alone. If I went any faster, I'm not sure if I'd even catch all of the details and character moments. I'm excited to move onto the second episode soon.

A highly subjective footnote about my cultured tastes

I'm glad that Kaguya is a sadistic dom with a gentle and vulnerable side, solely on the basis of that being my favorite personality type in a love interest. It also helps that it makes Kaguya's fantasies that much funnier with Shirogane acting so out of character. I feel like this show was made for me.

What was I writing about again? Oh yeah, writing a gigantic wall of text about an anime romcom. Somehow, I spent an entire day on this essay. Hopefully someone got a kick out of it.

#kaguya sama: love is war #analysis #long post #reactions

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