midnight-bay-if

[midnight-bay-if]

Quick Update:

Chapter 3 is coming along slowly but surely. The problem is, I’m not happy with a large chunk of it, and I definitely feel I can do a better job. So, it needs rewriting, but it’s not something I want to tackle until I’m definitely sure of what the problem is and why the scene doesn’t work for me. So, to take a step back, I’ve been working on chapter 4 and other pathways in chapter 3. So, progress is still very much happening; don’t worry!

On a more personal note, I’m going to be attempting to take a break. I've come down with some kind of flu. I was awake all last night, shivering and feeling really run down. I’m sorry if you still have an ask in my inbox I haven’t gotten around to yet, but I want to answer them at my best, giving them the time and energy they deserve.

Well, that’s it for now. Happy holidays if you celebrate, and if you don’t, I wish you the best with everything else you have going on :)

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Nsfw

RO reactions if the MC was wearing a very elaborate and delicate lingerie (hooks, straps, bows, knots, fragile lace) and challenged them to remove the lingerie without damaging it? Who's up for the challenge? (Who just rips the lingerie)

S: They are definitely up for the challenge. They are meticulous, careful, and patient. There will nigh be a thread out of place by the time they have reached the skin underneath.

Rain: Rain is floundering. They don't want to damage anything, but their hands are shaking and making the entire process painful. Their desperation will eventually lead to just tugging at the material.

Taj: No way. Don't even try it. If the lingerie can't survive being tugged, then in their eyes, it wasn't worth the money in the first place.

N: Oh, absolutely N will play your game, but you better expect punishment for making them wait. They will drag out every moment, slowly pulling it apart between whispered phrases of longing. In the end, you will be the one impatient for them.

Umbra: They can be careful when so inclined, but I fear they would be far too distracted by how intricate the lingerie is, and the fact you were wearing it for them. In the end, the desire to service you will win out and something is going to tear.

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Ro’s favorite cuddling positions?

Hey, anon! I answered a very similar ask quite a while ago so I will link it for you :) here

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heyy, first off just want to say that i absolutely love the story so far and i'm so excited to see where it'll go in the future <3

anywaysss, how would the RO's react to the MC having to be used as like a honey trap to get info for a mission?

(also my first time doing an ask so if this is messed up, i apologise)

(Thank you so much! I'm also excited, haha. And it's not messed up at all! Don't worry!)

S: They see the benefits of such a plan, but it isn't their favourite method of completing a mission. It often leads to too many complications, most of which would be thrust upon your shoulders should things go awry. It leaves you at the forefront of danger, which they will never be entirely comfortable with. So you had better believe they would be lingering close by, just in case.

"I will have eyes on you the entire time, darling. If you feel uncomfortable, or you believe your cover to be blown, do not hesitate to call upon me. I will be beside you in an instant."

Rain: They don't like it. They feel sure S should be able to develop a better plan that doesn't involve you acting sweet for such a dangerous person. It isn't jealousy but genuine concern for your safety. They at least trust that S won't let anything too nefarious happen, but there is no way they can sit still while it's happening.

"Are you sure about this, MC? Perhaps I could do it instead?" It sounds ridiculous out loud. Rain does not have the confidence for such a thing. "Fine. But I'm going to be watching. If I sense anything off about their body language, I'm intervening. I can't lose you."

Taj: "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Their vehement refusal holds no real orders. They fell for you exactly as you are; they would never try to change who you are. But their displeasure is palpable. They hate everything about the idea; the danger, the charm, the temptation, all of it repulsive. The sweet, whispered words you share in the dark and under blankets are supposed to be theirs. They want them to be. Perhaps it's greedy, but it doesn't feel that way when they are utterly starved for you.

"There has to be a better way, Koel. Lean on me. Work with me. Let's do this together.

N: They go quiet. What could they possibly say? Luring people with sickly sweet nothings or sensual promises of pleasure has been their weapon of choice for a very long time. Even you did not escape its clutches. People use whatever is at hand to survive. They cannot begrudge you the same, but... this feeling in their chest... it hurts. Indeed, you must realise so much of their facade has been stripped back since meeting you, and all their soft, soothing melodies are yours and yours alone.

"I will be waiting close by, my dear. If you need me, I will be whispering on the edges of your consciousness. Do not hesitate to call."

Umbra: Unsurprising that another would find you so perfectly alluring, but... they do not like it. "There must be a better plan," they suggest hopefully, tugging at their sleeves in a self-soothing gesture. "I could easily corner them in a dark alley and scare the information out of them." It wouldn't be any particular hardship; they understand how horrifying they are. But you deny it. You always do. Soft, brave, kind; it's who you are. You see that in them, too, but the truth is, Umbra is only that with you.

"If they hurt you," they warn, danger edging its way back into their voice, "there will be no where in any world for them to hide."

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Do u…do u accept Hunter snippet request…

I absolutely will consider specific requests. If it's something I can do well without spoiling too much story-wise, then yes. So, if you have something in mind, send me an ask, and if I can answer it, I will. It may take some time to get to, though, depending on the length.

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Question about the lore in your world. Can humans have children with supernaturals? I was just wondering if the biologically worked or can species mix? Would a half breed species be more powerful if it had two different supernatural parents?

Yes, but not every supernatural species can have children with humans. Most can, but undead creatures can't procreate at all, and some do not procreate as humans do. Also, the likelihood is that a child of two supernaturals would be weaker, not stronger. For this reason, many supernatural beings keep to their own, especially if they are experiencing conflict.

Thanks for the ask! :)

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would the RO's save MC from our date with Hunter? how would they do it?

Hmm... This is a little more difficult for me since the date with Hunter isn't hypothetical and will happen. The scene will be constructed that your chosen RO or platonic best friend will make an appearance. So, yes. But beyond that, I can't really say since I'm not even close to writing those scenes yet.

What I will say is... it will be dramatic.

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How would the ROs react if a drunk MC, when they are already dating each other, go to them and ask if they are single? As MC is trying to flirt with them.

Bonus: if RO say they are NOT single, since they are in a relationship with MC, the same starts to cry a LOT because they feel like they just lost their soulmate.

(I had to leave out the bonus suggestion for Umbra because there is no way they would be willing to tease MC like that, lol. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy :))

S: It was a rare night off for them, and they were spending it celebrating with you. The party spirit had truly overcome you; perhaps the bar should have already stopped serving you, but you didn't seem inclined to slow down. S reasoned with it by watching you and inwardly promising to keep you out of trouble since seeing you unwind for once has been a treat. You are laughing. It's nice.

Then, suddenly, as if stricken by a surprising heat, you set your sights on them. You climb onto the chair next to them, a sultry smile teasing your lips. "You are very... attractive, and I see the way you look at me," you declare through a hiccup, "you single?"

Their eyes widen, and then they chuckle. "Not at all," they reply, still smirking, "I'm afraid I am in a very committed relationship with a beautiful soul who definitely does not know their limit."

Your face falls, tears welling in your eyes. "No..." Your head drops onto their shoulder. "...But I truly believe you are my soulmate."

They lower their head, resting it on yours. "As you are mine."

Rain: Rain tried not to drink. From previous experience, the most unfortunate version of themselves comes out when inebriated. All snot, tears and vomit. It's pathetic to witness. But they have been happily supping on a mocktail while you have been gradually getting more and more loosened up. While they grow sadder under the influence, you laugh. It's nice to see another side of you.

The night goes on, and you grow quieter. Apparently, at some point, you pass a threshold you shouldn't have because you stare at them in an entirely different way. Almost as if you are looking through them. Then, you shake yourself and begin scooting yourself closer.

"You are very attractive."

"Oh, I, uh... thank you, MC."

"Are you single?"

Rain inclines their head to one side, wondering for a moment if you are joking, But you don't laugh. In fact, you look at them rather seriously. "No, I'm not."

You collapse against the table, burying your face in your arms. "No... but I'm so sure you are my soulmate."

Rain's entire chest warms before their face turns flush.

Taj: The difference between you sober and drunk wasn't immediately apparent. You were holding your liquor pretty well. For a human. Or, so they thought. The first sign you might be more affected than they initially thought is how you dance. Your feet no longer step in time with the music, and you slightly tumble into other dancers who guffaw at every misstep.

Taj was ready to gather you back to the table they were occupying until you stumble across on your own with a titillating smile. You fall into the seat next to them, your breath tickling their cheek as you grow closer.

"Hello, good-looking," you mutter with glassy eyes. "Are you single?"

"No!" Taj scrunches their nose in disgust at the question. Utterly offended, they cross their arms across their chest and inch their body slightly away. "And you should know that better than anyone."

Your brows furrow, taken aback by the sudden hostility. Then, tears swell in your eyes. "So, I don't have a chance? But I'm sure you are my soulmate."

Taj cuts off the curse on the tip of their tongue, their face growing a little softer from your admission. "You're an idiot, Koel." They gently take your hand and pull it into their lap, forcing you closer. "But you are my idiot."

N: They are in their element. It's rare to get you to unwind like this. Understandably so, but when they asked you to come and enjoy the nightlife with them, they half expected you to say no. You didn't. Before they knew it, both were knocking back drinks one after another in between bouts of very close dancing. Entirely on purpose on their part. There are far too many eyes on you tonight; everyone should know exactly who you are with. You are theirs.

Sometimes, it is all too easy to forget - especially with how effortlessly you seduce them - that you are human. So, when they take a break at a table, and you join them moments later on shaky feet, they are surprised to see your glassy eyes staring at them as if they are a stranger.

"So, you are very attractive and I have consumed enough liquid courage to fill a bucket. Single?"

They laugh. How could they not? Humans are so ridiculous. They lean closer, gaze heated. "Mmm... the things I would do to you right now if you were sober...Alas... As it happens, I'm not single."

"No..." Your head drops against their chest, and they think they hear you cry. "But I'm sure you're my soulmate."

The word catches in their mind. Their heart begins to race, and their palms turn hot and clammy. For the first time, they feel disgusting in their disguise. "Doubtful," they whisper, choking on it. "But even if you deserve better, I'm not letting go."

Umbra: Their eyes dart to every corner at least thrice when you change positions. Why else would you ask them to come if not to ensure you were safe? They look like a fish out of water sitting in the corner with their hands tucked at their sides, but even if they do not know how to conduct themselves, they like watching you dance.

You have had a few drinks - well, more than a few but they aren't exactly sure what too much alcohol looks like. They have noticed you are a little less stable and swaying back and forth more as you move. Nothing about it stands out as odd, until you set your eyes on them with the look of a predator stalking its prey. You stalk over to them, your ankle bending uncomfortably as you walk, then fall into the booth next to them.

"Hello, good-looking," you greet cheekily. "I've seen you staring at me. Are you single?"

Umbra's brows shoot up in alarm, and they feel their hands begin to shake. "I'm dating you!"

You smile brightly. "I'm dating you?! Woah! I hit the jackpot."

You seem happy, even slipping your hand between their arm to hook around it. It settles them a little. But they won't be truly content until they see in your eyes the recognition that keeps them tethered to this world. What else is there but that?

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So Christmas 🎄 is around the corner. How would the Ro's spend it with Mc? Also what would they like as a present 🎁 and what would they give Mc?

(Hope you enjoy!)

S: They would prefer a quiet, intimate celebration reserved solely for those they truly care about. This means you, Rain and Taj. That's about it. Every year, they ignore a formal invitation from their parents for their latest soirée; the invite is mainly to be polite anyway. The performance of fun is something they have never felt the need to indulge. They would much rather cook a huge roast and sit around the table to eat, soft music playing in the background while surrounded by coloured lights.

As the night progresses, they will hint for Rain and Taj to make their departure. It might take a few attempts; both are oblivious after a few drinks. Then, they will cuddle up beside you under a warm blanket by an open fire, talking about anything and everything on your mind.

As for gifts, S would never ask for anything but your time and company. But if you insist on getting him something, a practical gift would be best. Some socks or a new alarm clock, something like that.

What they would get you would entirely depend on the kind of person you are. S has money to burn, so that's not of any concern. If you seem overworked and stressed, the gift may take the form of plane tickets. Or, should you need a little pampering, a trip to a spa may be prudent. Whatever it is, S will have spent a long time considering it.

Rain: Christmas is a reasonably new concept to Rain, but they have fallen in love with the holiday. Spending it with S has given them some idea of how to make it memorable. So, they take charge. With the idea of surprising you in mind, they wait for you to leave your apartment before sneaking in. They don't have any decorations of their own, but you have a mish-mashed box dumped into the closet of the spare bedroom.

They begin pulling out things that look colourful, draping them over furniture, hanging baubles off the ceiling, and setting up candles in areas without much light. Some Halloween decorations get mixed up in the display, but their heart is in the right place. It's chaotic, but Rain's proud smile when he announces it is enough to assuage your doubts. Rain then asks you to introduce them to your favourite Christmas movie. You delve under a blanket with plenty of snacks and curl up with a VHS.

Rain would honestly appreciate anything MC gave them; they still have so much wonder about the world. A brightly coloured sweater or cardigan would be good, or some new paints would go down well.

Rain would most likely go for something homemade when it comes to gifts. A personalised photo frame with a watercolour painting of you both inside.

Taj: They never celebrated Christmas before meeting S; they still don't, really. They only partook in the celebration out of necessity because they didn't want to be away from Rain and S. But if MC celebrates Christmas, they are going to make more of an effort. They want you to have a good time. So, while whispering curses under their breath, they yank on an ugly sweater and hand you a matching one. Then, they attempt to follow a recipe handwritten by S to make cooking a roast as foolproof as possible. Within the hour, Taj manages to set a kitchen cloth on fire and cremate some vegetables at the bottom of a pan.

The more they mess up, the more frustrated they become with themselves. Your first holiday together was supposed to be perfect, and they're fucking it up. You enter the kitchen after smelling burning and set to work on salvaging what you can, working much better together than Taj had alone. They only relax when they realise you are not angry about the food. Your dinner may be small, but you both fill up on ice cream and cake afterwards.

You finish the night with games from your childhood. Taj takes them a little too seriously, but after a few drinks, they've loosened up, their tail swishing languidly before it wraps itself around you.

Taj would appreciate gifts that are personal. A letter, or a hand-made scarf, or a personalised bracelet. Something with a little bit of you.

Taj is definitely a panicker when it comes to gifts. They will likely spend hours perusing shops of all kinds, decide nothing is good enough for you, and then leave it much too long. At the last minute, they would wrap one of their favourite hoodies for you in an unintentionally sweet gesture.

N: They have watched the Christmas holidays from a distance in the past, amused by the rituals humans perform on such an occasion. For obvious reasons, they have never received an invitation to join in. Strangely, they are looking forward to spending the holidays with you. Putting their best foot forward, N ensures their appearance is immaculate, puts on the new outfit they have bought specially, and asks you to do the same. Taking your arms in theirs, they take you out of town without any explanation. Not only do you enjoy delicious food, but you also enjoy the added pleasure of a lively cabaret show as you eat.

Afterwards, N takes you home, peeling off your clothes to your comfort level. If you are so inclined, N will spend the rest of the night servicing you however you wish; tongue, fingers, nothing is too much.

For gifts, it would be enough for them to know you thought of them. A single rose, a bottle of bubbly, or, if you wanted to go all out, a new ring, earrings etc

N is more likely to go over the top with gifts. Luxurius lingerie and underwear with your exact measurements, expensive jewellery they have custom-made, and multiple sets of outfits. They're going to expect a fashion show in return.

Umbra: They have never celebrated Christmas before. They have watched people hang up their long, crystal-esque likes from their homes from their frigid apartment windows with mostly indifference. So, when you state a desire to spend the holidays with them for the first time, they feel something other than nothing about the day. And suddenly, that feeling of nothing feels a little like loneliness.

Umbra doesn't know precisely how to celebrate, but when you say there is little for them to do but be with them - well, they can do that very well. When you open the door to them, you foist a Santa hat upon their head, dragging them inside where it's nice and warm. Umbra feels it. They have to. There's no other explanation for the feeling inside their chest.

You spend time eating, talking, laughing... it's all too much. Umbra gets misty-eyed, and they pull you into a tight embrace to hide it. After a nice dinner, Umbra has the idea to go up to the roof of your apartment building to see the lights spread across town. You bundle up much warmer than Umbra as they guide you out the window in a very practised way. You're cold, but this is how Umbra has spent so much of their time. So, you feel it's important to follow.

After some careful footwork, Umbra's hand holding you the entire way, you both sit on the roof of your apartment building, looking down at the tired town you call home.

Aside from the gift of your company, Umbra would really appreciate something they could keep with them at all times. Something small to fit in their pocket that reminds them of you.

Umbra would give you a haphazardly sewn plushie of themself. It would be made clumsily but with a lot of love. Something to keep you warm when you hug it since they can't.

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Umbra my beloved. In my playthrough, they were introduced as an awkward 6ft something woman and I lost my shit. That woman got my abnormaly small gay heart in their hands. Oh, they were stalking me ?! WELL well well i'm stalking them now. How we feeling being watched and adored now bestie huh ?! great writing, very awkward encounter, very enjoyable

This makes me happy ��� Umbra's not going to know what to do with the feeling of being loved, but seeing so many warm up to their awkward, self-sacrifical, kinda creepy, but well-intentioned self is healing a little something inside of me ❤️

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I've thought of another version of the knife ask, unless I missed it earlier. What if the RO was stabbed and MC had to help them, but was panicking (crying and saying they couldn't pull it out. That they didn't want to hurt them.). How would the RO's help them or talk them through it?

(Sorry this took so long to get to!)

S: Giving short, precise instructions is a rather large part of their job description, even under duress. Arguably, even more so. It aches to see the tears spilling down your cheeks, but it is only more evidence they need to remain steadfast. They reach out, hiding the flinch of discomfort it causes, and place a steady hand on your wrist.

"The wound isn't fatal, but I do need you to work quickly—”

“But—”

“You can do this.” They give your wrist a soft squeeze; your breath shudders. “I will instruct you at every step. You need only do enough that I might rise on my own and seek the proper medical attention. Take a deep breath through your nose and out through your mouth. Good. Now, listen closely.”

It’s not easy to pass instructions while watching your hands shake. They would prefer not to have put you in this position at all. But they also have enough belief in you for the both of you; you can do this.

Rain: Seeing you in distress is hard enough, but knowing they are the cause makes it all the harder. A part of them wants to tell you to set them aside; they will manage the best they can with a tourniquet of some kind, but they also understand deep down that your distress now would be nothing compared to how you would feel should they... perish.

So, despite their own voice wavering, they turn to comforting you.

"MC, it's okay. My magic can keep much of the b-bleeding at bay," they offer through grit teeth. "There's no reason to panic. We'll take it one step at a time, all right?"

Taj: The white scars across Taj's skin tell stories enough about what they may have already endured, yet none come close to the difficulty of hearing you cry.

"Koel, listen to me," they order, keen to refocus your attention from the blood staining your hands. "I've had worse. Trust me. Do I look concerned at all?"

“But—”

"As it happens, it hurts like a motherfucker, but so does listening to your singing when you're in the shower and you think nobody can hear."

The unexpectedness of the comment makes you laugh, which is exactly what Taj hoped for. Now, they can begin instruction. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

N: It's almost amusing suffering something as banal as a knife wound. Watching your tear-stained face as you attempt to reconcile with it is not quite as entertaining. "If you feel you cannot pull it out, my dear, do not concern yourself. Nothing about the injury is life-threatening to me."

In fact, the most alarming aspect of the situation is seeing just how frightened you are on their behalf. It should bring them shame; they smile instead. "Close your eyes, if you like. I'll have it out in a blink."

Umbra: Nothing is working as it should. Even the pain of the knife is no greater than it takes for them to breathe. Blood should cover their hands, but the blood there is as visible as the blood inside your body. It's... disconcerting.

But nothing could be worse than seeing the fear in your eyes. Not of them, but for them. "I am not human," they gently remind you with a smile to mask how that upsets them. "Tell me how I can make this easier, and I shall. This knife hurts me far less than the sting of your tears."

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Yo dude, hows the writing going ??

:)

Hi, anon!

It has just occurred to me that perhaps I should be more inclined to share regular updates, but I'm only just coming to realise people might care, haha. That's neither here nor there.

Chapter 3 has doubled in length since the last update, but progress has slowed down a little in recent weeks because of personal things. I'm still working on it almost daily, though. Some days, I manage more than others, but any progress is progress. I've also been brainstorming another IF idea, which I think is pretty solid, but 'The Midnight Bay' is still my priority.

Thanks for caring enough to ask :)

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Can I just say I appreciate each answer you give on the blog <3 what I love most about IF blogs is getting to know each li and their personalities bit by bit so absolutely adore the detailed responses you give🥰

Thank you 🥺 I consider the asks a chance to really practise finding the character's voice and delving into the inner workings of their motivations, all while trying not to take them too seriously because the IF is still a WIP, so things may change. I put a lot of love into them, though, so it's nice to know people enjoy them 🥰

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If the MC is the type who feel uncomfortable or disgust by even slight of contact, how would the ROs react to the first physical contact that MC deliberately made because they're comfortable around the ROs?

S: With anyone else, the touch may have been inconsequential - the slightest contact of fingers as they passed on a file to your waiting hand. A fervent apology teases the tip of their tongue, but when you do not flinch, it dies in their throat. In fact, you smile at them before turning around to the cabinet and filing the document away.

You seem entirely oblivious to how you have provoked their heart. Who knew the most tamest of touches could provoke such a stimulating heat?

"Is everything ok, S?"

"Undoubtedly so, MC; never better."

Rain: It had become a ritual for the two of you. After a long day, free time permitting, you would both curl up on the couch at a respectable distance, a large bowl of popcorn between you, and pick a VHS from your father's collection. For you, it's a way to relive parts of your childhood; for them, it's a way to become more acclimatised to human nature. It's something just for the two of you, something special.

Something made all the more remarkable when, whilst enraptured by the latest film pick, you both reach into the popcorn bowl, and your fingers brush against one another. Rain yanks the hand back, afraid to see you recoil from them, but you seem entirely unruffled.

Rain stares at you, nonplussed. You meet their gaze with a shrug before launching your sweet projectile at their nose. Laughter bubbles at the pit of their stomach, but the joy is brought upon them from an entirely different place.

What had they done to deserve this moment? To deserve all the moments? They have no answer, but it's worth everything.

Taj: Keeping personal space sacred was easy enough for them. In fact, when it became apparent you were not one for physical touch, Taj felt as if they might finally have something in common with you. Little else, mind, but in this, you could agree.

So, when Taj offers to share their pastry, they hope you do no protest when they tear it in half with their hands, handing one half to you with some trepidation. You smile, reaching out to take it, your fingers brushing against Taj's with only the lowering of your lashes to indicate you noticed at all.

Their thoughts run wild, the newfound tremor of their hand betraying their racing heart. Whether their increased heart rate is born of fear or longing, they cannot say, nor do they wish to dwell on the answer. It's stupid, ridiculous; they might care that you feel safe in their presence, and they don't know how to handle it.

"You're staring at me eating," you point out, a little self-conscious.

Taj shakes themselves, turning to their half, grateful for the distraction. "Eat up quickly. And don't tell Rain, or next time they'll be hounding me for their share."

N: It had been a difficult ask to get them to alter their habits. Intimacy was their most effective method of communication. It's what they knew. Words could be tricky, trying, and, more often than not, a trap. Touch was sensuous... soft... safe, at least for them. But, it was never anything you responded well to. So, they learned to curb their touch rather than their tongue, often tripping in the attempts.

But still, you responded. The newfound honesty their efforts brought to the surface was... alarming. The moment they lay a hand on your shoulder, instincts taking over, and you did not flinch, was more alarming still. When had it become okay? When was permission granted? They have to bite down their need to chastise, to chasten. How dare you lower your guard? They have done nothing to earn your confidence.

The venom of their thoughts does nothing to quell the overwhelming fondness threatening to sequester them.

"Too soft," they whisper through grit teeth. "Too weak." They know it is not you they speak of.

Umbra: It had been entirely by accident. Umbra dislikes the idea of touching another's skin just as readily as you while desperately yearning for it in the dark. It was nothing they ever permitted themselves to seek because nobody other than you would be sufficient. But it would be a cruelty to subject you to their chill, to the odorous stink of death that stalks them and keeps them cowed.

It should have frightened them how easily your arms wrapped around their waist despite their warnings. How you nuzzled against them, salving the affliction that has them chained. They shouldn't want it; now they have it and refuse to let it go.

"I know I ask much," they begin, feeling heat for the first time, "but may we stay like this a moment longer?"

(I got carried away again. Ah, well. Hopefully, they will be at least enjoyable.)

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I have a fun question:

Who in the cast has the best poker face when playing cards? Lol

S has the best poker face by far. They are very good at coming across as haughty or aloof when pressed. It is one of the few things passed down from their parents that they don't find completely useless. It gives them an air of indifference and stoicism, which can be difficult to read.

The runner-up would be N. Their smile can be unsettling when set on a person, and N is devious enough to use it to their advantage. The poker face may be atypical, but it works well.

Umbra isn't utterly useless since their face always rests pretty still. But it isn't anything they do consciously, and the odd involuntary twitch of their lips or nose would be enough of a tell.

Taj and Rain are hopeless, haha. Rain's nerves probably wouldn't settle long enough for a card game in the first place, whereas Taj's frustration at the deck would be apparent to anyone who knew them if they got a bad hand.

(Thanks for the ask! Sorry for the wait :))

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one of the first IFs where i genuinely think im not gonna be able to choose a favourite RO, or even make a tier list based on how much i like them or anything like that. im used to seeing certain types repeated in IF ROs (absolutely no judgement or slander towards other creators, i still eat it up like its my last meal on earth lol, just an observation) and this is a genuine breath of fresh air

honestly at first i expected to like maybe 2, 3 of the ROs, slightly writing off the other ones as some tropes id seen already (im not naming a single thing for this bc i was very wrong)

then i start reading all the ro related asks and stuff and find myself not skipping half the text to get to my 'designated choices', instead looking at all of them and being genuinely excited about them! okay apologies for the ramble, i just wanted to give a genuine compliment on your writing and characters' personalities, can't wait till i can give each of them a kiss <3

Thank you so much! I always appreciate a good ramble; I'm guilty of it, too. I'm really glad people are excited about the characters. When it comes to ROs, I've allowed a lot of their backstory to shape their personality. I start with a trope I enjoy, and then I ask myself how their backstory would shape a person like that.

What does it look like when a species, once revered by humans, is forced into the darkness after humanity's expansion? Or what does it look like when a happy, carefree person's home is decimated in a battle, leaving them as the sole survivor? How desperate would they be to keep the happiness they had left after that?

And how would all of that manifest when in love?

The only good thing about being someone with a bumpy history is that I have a lot to pull from. Seeing people excited to see these characters' journeys makes me happy. Thank you so much for the kind message :') See? I'm guilty of rambling, too, haha.

[midnight-bay-if]

Hmhmhm, if you're up for it: MC tackling their RO out of the way of some danger and oh no! Now MC is pinning them against a wall/the ground/whatever and is taking slightly too long to let them up!

(I'm always up for some... tension, haha. Sorry, this took a while to get to! I have around 20 asks in my inbox right now. It also wasn’t specified whether the ROs are in a relationship at this stage, but for the sake of extra tension, I wrote it as if they were not. You know, for fun, haha.)

S: They are used to preparing for every inevitability. Their plans are organised, considered, and timely. But you are something of a wildcard, unpredictable and difficult to control. So, mid-fight, they are surprised, but shouldn't be, when you barrel into them to prevent their attacker from making a swipe for their head. Instead, their body collides with the floor, your weight pressing into them. They hear Taj dispatch the attacker, but they are much too occupied with how your breath tickles their lashes. It seems you are equally transfixed, neither moving to free yourself from the other.

It’s S who coughs and breaks the moment first if only to save themself the embarrassment of explaining the heat of their face. “Ah, forgive me,” they say, attempting to pull themselves out from under you.

With the spell broken, you move just as quickly. “Right. Are you… okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. Thank you for the timely assist,” they offer, readjusting their shirt and pointedly focusing their attention elsewhere. Then, they smile. “Perhaps a verbal warning the next time you deem to thrust yourself upon my person?” The double entendre was not lost on you.

Rain: Fighting was never really Rain’s forte. Or, well, not any longer. Luckily for Rain, S mostly agreed with Rain’s pacifist nature and endeavoured to control a battle with as little bloodshed as possible. Rain knew basic hand-to-hand combat, but if they were beside a bed of water, Rain was much more useful. They were not. Taj always hovered close to Rain, ready to defend them at any moment, but they were already caught up with several attackers. It is you who comes to their aid this time.

Without a second thought, you push them down to the ground after a particularly vicious swing of a dagger swipes towards their stomach. It’s enough to save their skin, if not their clothing. Taj finishes the job, breaking away long enough to knock their attacker out. Rain stares up at you, wide-eyed, in disbelief. What you did was terribly reckless, yet you did it for them. They don’t know whether to kiss you or kick you.

“Are you okay?” You ask, chest heaving. “They didn’t hurt you?”

“No,” they gasp, their eyes misting over. “My clothes didn’t survive the ordeal, but otherwise…” They trail off, trying to ignore the heat of you seeping through the frayed piece of clothing. “MC?” They whisper, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. “Please don’t do that again.”

Taj: They rely on synergy during a fight. If they are not fighting alone, it takes knowing exactly what Rain and S think during a fight to navigate it successfully. It’s a reliance on their skill and S’s knowledge of their own that makes them an effective team. You, on the other hand, are an irritant. Your insistence to involve yourself means Taj, while combatting two separate assailants, has one eye trained on you at all times. It’s instinctive. It's not an instinct they are at all pleased about, either.

So, when another combative runs out towards your back, Taj is the first to notice. Dipping beneath a fist aimed for their skull, Taj skids across the ground towards you. Before the man can careen into your side, Taj does so first, knocking you flat beneath them. S, never being far behind, intercepts the attacker and finishes the job. Taj glares down at you, breathing hard, hands flat on either side of your head. You stare back up at them, doing much the same thing. The eyes soften almost imperceptibly when they realise how terrified they felt.

Growling, they push themself off of you, flinching away as if burned. “Try to pay attention, Koel. I won't make a habit of saving you," they lie.

N: In the Haels, they had seen a great deal of death. Much brought on by their hand. It was familiar. Like home. Even in an army, however, nobody truly cared for their fellow soldiers. It was every demon for themselves, as it should be. If you survived, you were strong. If you didn’t, well, you ceased to matter. So, it was quite amusing being pinned beneath you after being knocked out of the way of a deadly blow. How quaint. How strange.

Their heart hammered against their chest, their palms clammy, as they stared up at you with wide eyes. At first, it doesn’t completely compute why your elbow is crushing against their gullet. Then Umbra finishes off their would-be assailant, and all becomes clear. You had risked yourself for them. Why? What did you hope to gain? Their co-operation? Their compliance? Their… submission?

They mask their fear behind the salacious mask they are so prone to wearing. “It’s about time you threw yourself at me, my dear,” they goad, ignoring how their chest clenches. “Mm… I had hoped for a softer landing. Pillows, silk, by candlelight, but I’ll accept whatever it is you have to give.”

You don’t apologise when you dig your elbow deeper into them as you rise.

Umbra: They move without thinking. They do not need to. Their body has a way of directing itself, flowing like water as they dance across the battlefield; death follows. And yet, they are used to watching from a distance. Once, you would have been safe from such horrors as they carried them for you. They failed in this once before, and you forgot. They do not want to repeat this mistake. They want you to remain unscarred, unbroken, and untethered from darkness. So, they continue to dance.

But having you so close leaves them distracted. They focus too heavily on your movements and fail to notice another assailant lying in wait in the darkness.

“Umbra!” Your voice calls to them, so they turn towards you instinctively. But you are rushing towards them, and before they can even process the change, you tackle them down from the line of bullets destined for their chest. N expertly dispatches the shooter, blood splattering across the ground beside you. Neither move, fear gripping you still. Their hand hovers close to your cheek, shaking. They want to hold you, to describe the depth of the feeling, but words fail. As they so often do.

It is you who makes the first move, pushing off you with flushed cheeks and trembling legs. You hold out a hand to them, one they cannot bring themselves to take. “Thank you,” they offer, pushing themselves off the floor. “I… I will do better.”

“Just be safe,” you reply, denying Umbra’s declaration. “I need you to be safe.”