#(( response for | ask-the-boogeyman ))

[mcybree]

hi, different love anon here because i think the original one was onto something, we should send each other more love anons.

first of all, as love anon 1 said it, your analysis posts are amazing. they're very well written from a formal perspective, and even if one doesn't know anything about the blue guy and the yellow guy in your posts, you still manage to make the reader care about them. and you clearly do care a lot. and i think that's beautiful.

also, can we talk about the fact that you have sources for basically everything you say? that's criminally underappreciated, especially knowing how hard compiling sources is. and also knowing how long your posts can get.

then there's also the art. beyond the things love anon 1 (lanon?) already said, your colour choices and compositions are really awesome. it's clearly visible that you understand how it all works.

i just proofread my ask and as a tl;dr it all boils down to this: i think it's the greatest thing ever that you're so passionate about something, keep doing what you're doing 👍

aannnd that's it! :) have a great (remaining week) and i wish you the best of luck for beast life 👽

ORNOENCJEJCBECOENCOENCOEBSWVDIZOWBDJW THE END HIT ME SO SO HARD. OKU ARE YOU HERE?? OKU ARE YOU IN THE ROOM WITH US????? SPEAK TO ME OKU

[shrimpmandan]

do you mean you feel alienated around self diagnosed autistic people? (aka 99% of the online autistic community) because if so I completely agree. I'm not sure if you have access to it but I go to public therapy for disabled adulta (if you're over 18) and in my group there is a bunch of autistic/adhd people. we usually talk about medication, funny stories about therapy and experiences with growing up autistic and such. it's pretty relieving, and completely different from speaking to autistic people online, which just feels like talking to neurotypicals

No I feel alienated around autistic people. And people in general. It's for a lot of reasons tbh, not JUST being autistic, but I've definitely have had grievances with the autistic community online for some time now. This is because there's this prevalent idea that what does or doesn't work for one autistic person must be true for every autistic person, which inevitably leads to alienation. I'm considered weird and offputting even by the standards of other autistic people. This isn't an uncommon experience for me.

Also, part of my alienation comes from the general politics of the online autistic community. I call myself Asperger's and high-functioning, which while I totally get why other people don't call themselves that, it's just kinda what I grew up with and what works for me. Also being trans on top of that, and hearing so many autistic people talk about how they personally don't understand gender, whereas I didn't have much of an issue with it (I view it through a strictly neuroscientific lens; I don't do well with metaphors and vague feelings). Being told I can't say "retarded" even though I've been CALLED retarded, not to mention directly threatened (I was nearly shot lmao) over being autistic. A mixture of oppression olympics among autists, and also 'higher-functioning' autistic people speaking over 'lower-functioning' autistic people. My stims also don't get represented much (I don't really flap, I've always been more of a rocker/bouncer/vocal stimmer) and I don't fit into the "good autist" role that a lot of people-- both neurodivergent and neurotypical-- want out of me. All this to not even mention how I get alienated for my other forms of neurodivergence, with people in general being extremely ableist towards those with OCD and dissociative disorders.

All I'm saying is it's not self-diagnosed autists who make my life harder. Not when me and most of my family has had to resort to self-diagnosis due to doctors not listening to us or just a simple inability to even see a doctor due to a lack of money and time. Actually, most of the people I click with are the self-diagnosed "I think I might be neurodivergent" people-- whether that's autism, ADHD, or some other various neurodivergence. The self-diagnosed people are my immediate family, as well as my friends who had to figure out they're neurodivergent because nobody else told them, or gaslit them over it. We're pro-selfdx here, and honestly therapy is the least of my concerns right now, at least when it comes to autism. I don't need therapy for being autistic. I don't need therapy to teach me how to be normal. I need therapy to teach me how to live. Y'know, tackling my ACTUALLY problematic disorders, like my severe OCD and CPTSD and what I believe to be some form of OSDD. ADHD... yeah I just need meds for that, it is what it is. But I've been in therapy SEVERAL times for my autism, with people who were supposedly specialized in it, and even they didn't really know what to do with me. So shrug lmao.

For the record I am professionally diagnosed with autism. I'm actually self-diagnosed with most of the other mental health issues I occasionally talk about here (ADHD, OCD, OSDD, et cetera). I'd LOVE to get diagnosed but we're just not in a financial situation where we can rn. I don't like throwing self-diagnosed people under the bus-- more often than not they're just trying to understand themselves and genuinely don't have the ability to access proper resources. I don't really think of the cringe "faking disorders for attention and spreading misinformation" people when I hear about self-diagnosis, personally. I think about people who have been gaslit and told either that they're weird/bad children their whole lives, or even the reverse where they're told they're gifted, before they begin to struggle and then are promptly abandoned. I went through the latter more than the former.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Day 2: Woods + Day 23: Witch for @steddie-spooktober

"Did you come to burn the witch?"

Steve just blinked at the weird man. He was probably a bit taller than him, with wild curls of hair and a mischievous smile. "Why should I?" he quipped back. "It's fucking hot, I came to the woods to cool down. The last thing I want is to get even warmer. Fire's warm."

The man just snorted. "Oh, I got a smart one today. Good for me." He hopped down from the tree he was sitting in and landed in front of Steve. "Such a pretty one too. They never send someone pretty to burn me."

"Once again, I'm not here to burn you."

The witch clutched his chest. "Ouch. And here I thought we had a spark."

Steve didn't dignify that with a response.

And the witch didn't let that deter him. "You know, a spark? As in...a spark that would start a fire? With, I don't know, a nice stake in the middle?"

Steve groaned and rubbed his temples. "If I agree to burn you, will you let me sweat in peace? I hear a spring nearby and I really need to cool down before I pass out from the heat."

The man shook his head. "You people. You cut down the trees for your villages and then wonder why you get a sunstroke." He glanced at Steve's red face, his sweaty hair, and for a second longer, his damp shirt. "Well, I'm a mean, evil witch, but I'm not that cruel. The spring's this way, come with me."

It only took a while for Steve to take of his shoes and dip his feet into the nearby spring, groaning in relief. The witch was crouched next to him, studying his face. "So really. How did you get here? I thought I was a cautionary tale for all the good children in the village, so they never let you go this way unless you need something."

Steve muttered something unintelligible.

"Huh? What's that?"

"...got lost."

The witch's face broke out in a wide grin. "Did you now? Such a big boy, not seeing the warning signs on the trees?"

Steve just grunted and leaned down to splash his face with water, then drink some. "I don't know, man. Must have been the heat. I was working in a field and fell asleep. Stupid, I know. When I woke up, I was so dizzy I thought it was a great idea to go to the woods. I could barely remember my name - that's Steve, by the way, if you need it for a hex or something. I was walking around for what seemed like ages. Then you asked me to burn you. And here I am."

"And here you are," repeated the witch. "Well, you obviously don't have any matches on you, so we're cool, I guess. Name's Eddie, although I rarely use it."

"Because you're a big bad witch?" snorted Steve.

Eddie shrugged. "Well, yeah. Because when others talk about me, they don't think I'm a person. I'm a boogeyman to them. Someone who kills their crops, trades remedies for firstborn children for dinner...the usual stuff."

"Do they taste good?"

That gave Eddie a pause. "What does?"

"The firstborn children."

Eddie stared at Steve. Steve stared back. Then they both burst into laughter at the same time. "Suppose I should invite you for dinner so you can answer that?" said Eddie after they had finally quieted down.

Steve smiled at him, and Eddie could swear he winked at him. "Suppose you should."

...

Steve stayed for dinner - no children were served, but lots of vegetables and delicious herbs - and Eddie made sure he was fully okay before letting him go. "Sunstroke's no joke, Steve, no sleeping in the field or I'll curse you! Stop giggling, I'll do it! I'll send my cat to eat your ears or something!"

With Steve's footsteps sounding more and more distant, Eddie's cottage grew quiet again. For the fist time in years, he hated it.

The quiet lasted until the next evening, when there was a knock on his door, and behind it, Steve. He was carrying some grapes and apples, a fresh loaf of bread, and it seemed he'd even combed his hair and wore a clean shirt. 

Eddie just stared at him. "You got lost again?" he asked incredulously. Because no one came back to him. Not unless they needed something.

Steve just shushed him and headed directly to the table, setting the plates as if it had been his home too. "You know what's great about all the warning signs on the trees? They will always lead me back to you."

Eddie's face was starting to hurt from all the smiling. "So you can burn me?" he asked with a snort, well, maybe a tiny sob too.

"Burning you would be a shame," said Steve as he lit a small candle on the table, "since I have much better ideas how to spend our evening."

Eddie popped a grape in his mouth. "Funny," he mumbled around it, "so do I."

[allfearstofallto]

Do you think Childe would get jealous is reader spent to much time with the kids or would he just appreciate her not being miserable 24/7?

Childe is jealous because HE can't spend lots of time with the kids. He's unreasonably happy that you and the children get along so well, but he hates that it comes at the cost of him not having a place to fit in.

Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

TW: Reader has children, yandere themes, general angst

It was a thought that lingered in his mind more than he wanted. Despite the fact that he was adamant that he wouldn't let it bother him, it still crept its way into his brain during moments of silence. It was eating away at him, the one thing that he couldn't fight off was going home every night and noticing it. Noticing the silence, the lack of toys splayed about, the lack of laughter, the mess.

When he was a child and even up until long past his teenage years, he remembered not being able to walk two steps in his home without stumbling over a toy or board game or even some mysterious mess. He's aware that he has significantly less adolescents in his own house now than he did as a kid, but it doesn't change the fact that his his kids are just so clean. and quiet. It's almost unnerving how little he sees of those existence in the home.

And when he returns, even if there is still sun beaming down on the packed snow of Snezhnaya, his son's will already be up in their rooms. Whether it's to nap or do some schoolwork, the second he steps foot into his own home, they become unavailable, shying away from him as if he were the monster under their bed.

“Why are the boy's always busy when I get home,” he asked over dinner. A quiet dinner of just you and him. He hadn't eaten a meal with his son's in months, almost as if you wanted him to forget their existence.

A look of fear crossed your face, then confusion, then a weak, fake smile. Those smiles of yours. Forced quivering lips and wide eyes, how much longer could you continue to smile at him like that? How much longer would he allow it?

“They're both still young, Ajax, they don't want to be under their parents constantly,” you tried to assure him, following your words up by filling your mouth with food to not have to say more.

“That's bullshit,” he slammed his fist down on the table, scaring you even more in the process. You could see that he was seething with rage, close to having an outburst before taking a deep breath to calm himself. Still, his words were slow and concise as he spoke against, a growl present in his voice, “You can't even sit Damon down for a minute without him crying till he's blue in the face.”

There was nothing you could say to disprove what he was saying. He was correct. Damon was typically glued to your hip, throwing fits whenever you let go of him. He was always a clingy child, vastly different to Adonis, who only wanted you around to show you a cool trick he'd learned or an art project he'd made. But both of them would grow pale when you said that their father would be returning home soon, and even if you wanted to, you couldn't make them leave the confines of their rooms, knowing that Childe was lurking around the corner.

“I want to see my sons,” he said without waiting for your response.

“They're probably long asleep by now,” another lie. You couldn't get Adonis to go to bed without a fight most nights. You knew he was still up, possibly playing with his action figures once again, but if he heard the sound of his father's footsteps coming up the stairs, he'd be in bed with no hesitation. You remember a night where he thought it was Childe instead of you opening the door to his bedroom. He was curled up in his comforter, with it pulled up to his eyes. Peeking at the door like he was expecting the Boogeyman.

“I won't go in tomorrow then. We'll have the whole day together,”

You had nothing to say back, but also no way of forcing the boys to spend time with him. Rather, you silently picked at your food, a lump starting to form in your throat. Dinner was eaten in silence, with you only occasionally stealing glances at your husband, who was still angrily eating. Your heart sank thinking of the ways the boys would cry, but knowing that there was nothing you could do for them. Except be there as he forced himself into their lives. He was doing to them as he'd done to you. And helplessly, all you could do was watch.

[khazzman]

Vi, the Undercity rebel who thinks with her fists, who hates the Enforcers for what they have done to Zaun and its people. Vi who falls in love with an Enforcer, Vi who joins them, because above all she desires a "family" again, but then after everything is said and done, an Enforcer is all she has left. Until she doesn't. Then what does she have?

Jinx, the crazed killer, who talks to herself more than she speaks with others, who doesn't just kill strangers but those closest to her. Especially those closest to her. Jinx the revolutionary, who in a single act, shakes the pillars of power and oppression in Zaun. Jinx who will be a rallying cry for for the oppressed and a symbol of revolt against the powerful. All without her desire or intention to be one.

Caitlyn, the idealist, who shuns the comfort of her family's wealth to serve her city. Who runs toward danger instead of away from it. Who sees a "good heart" in Vi and the dangers of "a government who doesn't give a shit". Caitlyn the Enforcer, who sees her mother die at the hands of her love interest's sister. Caitlyn who suddenly has the weight of her House on her shoulders and all its responsibilities. Who sees the attacks on Piltover not as the defense of the oppressed but as the lashing out of "animals". Who twists her mother's philanthropy to become a boogeyman of Zaun, and then dictator of her own home. Who throws away love for vengeance.

Mel, the manipulator, the puppetmaster. She plays politicians like a fiddle and revels in the games of corruption and intrigue. Who takes a tool originally built to improve the lives of the many and ensures it stays in the hands of the rich. Who asks that weapons be made, against the wishes of its creators. Mel, the pacifist, who has seen all too closely the cost of war and the spilling of blood. Who is also quick to limit the use of the very weapons she requested. Who pushes back against her mother at every turn because she knows deep down, she refuses to ever be "the wolf".

And these are just some of the complicated characters in Arcane! I could go on about Silco the Crime Lord and Silco the Father. Jayce the Golden Boy and Jayce the Mad Scientist. Viktor the Dying and Viktor the Savior. Sevika the Stooge and Sevika the Kingmaker.

The characters of Arcane possess multitudes and THAT is what makes it a good show. Because they are walking contradictions but at the same time, make complete sense. They are so... so... human.

[cece693]

Captive (Michael Myers x GN! Reader)

Hello! So I'm trying to get back into writing and this idea came to me instantly. I hope you guys enjoy :)

Summary: You were a witness to one of Michael's killings, however, instead of killing you, he'd taken you as a prisoner. How odd...

tags: captive reader, wrong place wrong time, Michael finds you cute, I guess????

It had started out as an ordinary night in Haddonfield. You’d been walking home from a late shift at the diner, the brisk October air nipping at your cheeks, when you heard the first scream. It was faint but unmistakable—a high-pitched sound of terror that froze you in your tracks. Against every instinct telling you to run the other way, you stepped toward the noise, peering down the shadowy alley.

That’s when you saw him.

A towering figure in a white mask, broad shoulders framed by the dim glow of a flickering streetlight, his hand gripping the handle of a knife still dripping with blood. At his feet lay a crumpled body, lifeless. You couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped your lips, and in that split second, his head snapped toward you.

You ran.

Feet pounding against the pavement, lungs burning, you sprinted as fast as you could. But it didn’t matter. He was faster, quieter, and before you knew it, a hand had clamped over your mouth, pulling you into darkness.

When you woke up, you were in an unfamiliar room. The walls were bare, the single window boarded up. The only light came from a dim bulb overhead, casting eerie shadows. You wanted to try the door, but before you could stand, the door clicked open. Michael entered, carrying a tray of food—a bowl of soup, some bread, and a glass of water. The sight was so absurd it almost made you laugh. This was the infamous killer, the Boogeyman of Haddonfield, and he was bringing you dinner like you were some houseguest? You didn’t move as he placed the tray on the small table by the bed. His movements were methodical, deliberate, and he didn’t utter a single word.

Then, he reached out—a calloused hand moving toward your face, his intent unclear. You jerked back instinctively, scooting as far away as the bed would allow. His hand froze mid-air, and his head tilted slightly as if puzzled by your reaction. This was the first of many strange interactions.

Over the following days, his behavior became increasingly bizarre. He never spoke, never even made a sound, but his presence was constant. He would sit in the corner of the room, watching you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. If you tried to engage him, asking why he hadn’t killed you or begging to be let go, he would simply tilt his head, his silence more unnerving than any response could have been.

Once, you woke up to find him standing over you, holding a tattered blanket he must have found somewhere. He draped it over your shoulders like he thought you might be cold. Another time, you caught him fiddling with a small, broken toy—a doll missing an arm—before carefully placing it on your makeshift nightstand, as though it was some kind of gift.

The most unsettling thing, though, was how he seemed fixated on your hair. He would often reach out to touch it, running his fingers through the strands like he was petting some fragile, delicate creature. If you recoiled or tried to stop him, he would pause, head tilting, as though trying to understand why you didn’t like it.

One evening, the absurdity of it all reached a peak. He entered the room holding a scraggly bouquet of flowers—wild ones he must have picked outside. He placed them awkwardly on the tray of food, stepping back to watch your reaction. When you didn’t immediately reach for them, he shifted his weight, almost…impatiently.

You realized then that this wasn’t just captivity. Michael Myers, the man who had slaughtered so many without hesitation, was trying to take care of you. Protect you. Maybe even…keep you.

But why?

You were just some random witness, a bystander who had seen too much. There was no reason for him to spare you, let alone act as though you were something to be nurtured. The absurdity of it all was maddening—his eerie, unspoken obsession transforming your imprisonment into a surreal nightmare. And yet, no matter how gentle his gestures, you couldn’t forget what you’d seen in that alley. The cold efficiency of his kills, the way his knife had gleamed under the streetlight. You were living with a monster who treated you like a cherished pet, and every moment you wondered when—or if—that mask of strange tenderness would slip.

[theminecraftbee]

task: answer the following question. do you believe in curses? respond as completely with relevant information as possible.

Grian: Well, that's a lie. This isn't a task. I know it's not a task, I set the things up! Not sure why we're getting a question as pointless as this one, but sure, mysterious scroll, I'll answer. There's no such thing as curses, unless you're Timmy, in which case it's funny, yeah? Besides, I didn't actually kill Etho. Even if that did count, self-fulfilling prophecies aren't the same thing as curses, and I know which one I fall under.

Joel: Do I believe in bloody curses what kind of question is that? Do I really get hearts just for answering this? This feels like a prank or something... well, whatever. There are no such thing as curses, except the Boogeyman curse, which I sort of had today, but it wasn't actually the same at all. A lot of the bloodlust, sure, but a lot more... Etho had to be the one to do it, huh? And it's not the same. Not comforting. That's a stupid thing to say actually. Take it out of wherever you're putting this. Cut it out of the recording. Comforting. Please. As if it were ever... Yeah, I'm done actually. Don't have a good answer. Go away.

Scott: What, other than Jimmy? Bless that man, he may not have died first, but he sure tried his best. Sure, I'll believe Jimmy is cursed. I mean, mostly he's just kind of stupid. Lovingly so. I mean, despite him being stupid, I put up with him, right? That seems like a complete answer to this question. Jimmy's an omen but we put up with him anyway. That's all.

Mumbo: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

Pearl: Oh, I mean, I'm probably cursed. That's what everyone liked to say at one point. I think... I mean, I think this time I have good friends, which is nice. They don't think I'm cursed. And it's not like I--I mean, it's surprisingly fun, acting cursed! And I am just acting. Acting scary, blowing up dance floors, all of that. And I don't really have to this time, so... Maybe I'm not cursed? And since it's acting, it's not real? This is a weird question.

Etho: Oh, man, that's a question. Um, do I have to answer? Because I feel like if I say no, that's really just asking for it, but if I say yes, I have to explain myself. Uh, I think I'm abstaining, unless the zombie thing from earlier counts. That was scary and I hated it. Curses are scary and I hate them in general, but apparently I'm good at them, if you ask everyone else. Um, it's not the only thing I find scary that apparently I'm good at.

Scar: Why, of course I believe in curses! Look at poor, poor... Timbert? Timmy? Jim? Gosh, sorry, I'm very tired right now. That's more proof of curses, by the way! That I'm tired. I've been tired straight since the desert, let me tell you what. And that, my friends, is a curse like no other. What a terrible beast, loneliness is. Wish me luck breaking it, because it's not happening this season!

Cleo: Oh, you mean the thing people like to blame instead of their own actions? Nah. My soulbond was kind of a curse, I guess, but even that's at least half just... bad people. Bad relationships. Good ones, too. We're all just doing what you can, you know? No script, no curses, no characters, just... Oh, I hope everything turns out tomorrow. Sorry, that's unrelated. It's just nicer to hope than to preemptively blame things on curses that don't exist.

Impulse: Well, I mean, I didn't until you just asked me that, but now I feel like I should. Wouldn't that be nice? Being cursed instead of just sort of unlovable? Sorry, no, that's mean to Gem. I shouldn't say that about Gem, she's been good this season. Super, super cursed, mind you, in the like, game mechanic sense? But she's been good, no backstabbing or inability to get love involved. Um, and I guess that's not fair to Bdubs, kind of, except it also totally is and I haven't forgiven him. So I guess if they ask I said I believed in curses, and that's why my life keeps circling clocks? Don't put any of that other stuff down, I'm trying to work on that.

Lizzie: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

Gem: I was just cursed for a task, but that probably isn't what you're asking about, right? I'm new, so I don't know! A task is a concrete thing to believe in, like bloodshed or victory or fun and games. You don't have to believe in those to know they're real, either! They just are, whether you like it or not. I understand that much!

Tango: Gah, don't talk to me about... Deep breaths. Look, I don't care if it's a curse, or if it's just me being really bad, or what, I'm not going out pointlessly this time. Jimmy managed not to die first, I can manage to not go out to a stray arrow or my own bomb or a misstep this time, right? Is that so much to ask?

Skizz: Huh? Curses? I mean, I don't think so, and to be totally honest I think it's kind of mean the way people sometimes rag on people about them. Everyone's got so many good things about them! Why do people like to focus on the unfortunate luck, huh?

Bdubs: Hah! Curses! Let me tell you about curses. When I see curses, I eat them for breakfast. I don't got curses, I've got better things to do! I've got my buddies with the Mounders, and I've got-well, I'd say keeping Etho safe, but he's being weird at me again this season. Not that it matters. It never matters. Etho and I, we're... The point is, that doesn't matter anyway, because I have the Mounders, and they're the ones who matter here. And because I'm a strong, independent Bdubs, who doesn't need anyone but my bow and my perfect, flawless fighting prowess! Sorry, what was the question? I've been thinking so much lately that it's just sort of made everything else pop out of my head, so it's hard to keep track. I'm sure I answered it flawlessly, though.

Martyn: Of course there are curses. That's half the fun for you lot, isn't it? Putting your little curses on us and watching us rail against them. Bet you think it's real cute to ask us what we think of the things, too. "Oh, what do you think of curses," like we have any control over them. Please. If I had any control over curses, Jimmy--or, well, no, I guess that one was technically broken, wasn't it? Sure doesn't feel like it. Point is, curses are bad, and they're definitely real, and I hate you for them, got it?

BigB: Look, man, if you're trying to get me to write my character out for you, just say so! I won't tell anyone. We can come up with a hole thing about holes and red tasks and the Backrooms together! It'll be fun! After all, you probably don't know what kind of curse to say I have, right? Haha, just kidding. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Luckily, neither does anyone else, so I think that evens out between the lot of us.

Jimmy: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

[molluskmirage]

the boogeyman effect following Bbh from purgatory 1 has been a very fascinating phenomenon.

there is alot of residual and lingering opinions of Bad from both characters and fans and its been interesting because having watched Bads pov he really didnt do anything more then what others did in purgatory. Q!Phil is mad because Bad terrorized his team but bad had far less kills then Tubbo, and plenty other teams were around terrorizing others Fit slaughtered Tina and soulfires farmers (most of which then never returned)

Q!Tubbo is mad for ‘day 12’ for a poor decision Bad made, but Bad was carrying the team mostly alone for many many hours the whole 2 weeks (the most out of anyone on the team) I think he could be forgiven for not having the clearest decision making skills running ragged and getting killed.

Q!Bagi feels betrayed by bad and has been more comfortable around tubbo since p1 but tubbo murdered her before she could say a word in p1 and Bad asked for her consent first before doing so.

Q!Etoiles is salty about the 2v1 but he and Fit started it by attacking tubbo alone who then had to run to bad and it was a 2v2 before then becoming a 2v1 as Fit backed away injured

Q!Phil has also mentioned that bad has not taken responsibility for his actions and this is echoed a lot in fan spaces but Bad is constantly taking on blame for things he may have only been adjacent too. He’s said he’s killed a lot of people, he jokes that he’d do it again. He doesnt often show remorse for his actions which I think is more what some are after but he does acknowledge things he doesn’t pretend it never happened. He told Pepito he was a monster. And anytime some express anger towards bad he respects their feelings (that doesn’t mean he’d chose to act differently or feel remorse in such actions but he doesn’t tell anyone theyre not allowed to feel that way)

its a fascinating subject to me because this effect has carried over so strongly within the space despite the fact Bad didn’t even have the highest kills in p1 for soulfire (it was Tubbo by quite a margin) yet Tubbo is often unnamed as the wrongdoer. Bagi set up Bad for death, while it didn’t come to fruition she still did that to Bad. Bad could not do anything but run when red team took on the bounty system which was excruciating to watch. Red also showed no mercy when the boats arrived and killed Bad the sole player for blue leaving his body in a zone that would kill a naked player.

Bad did do wrong he spawn killed Jaiden. However his stalking home bases and killing others in general was no different then all of the other skilled players repertoire. Bad had to play offensively for his team the majority of the time as he was one of the few that could, yet the boogeyman effect holds onto him and warps even his own members perceptions after the fact. Q!Tina as an example very enthusiastic about letting Bad loose in p1 too then scolding him for actions he took under her instruction.

The fan narrative has been the most acutely difficult to manage as the effect is almost to mystic proportions and finding disdain for even mundane actions Bad takes and reading into those as disingenuously as possible always set on more then retribution but truly an end to his character. Which again having watched Bads POV I havent been able to discern anything remarkable that any other character hasnt also partook in.

The difference I have noted is that Bad will always consider himself in the wrong regardless if his actions had justifiable reason behind it. Dapper told Bad to win in purgatory. After purgatory Bad put himself and Dapper down as ‘oh thats just something Dapper would say hes just bloodthirsty, but narratively Dapper has committed self harm in order to protect his siblings and other islanders ((an issue Dapper unfortunately sees in his father and perpetuates himself)) believing he is nothing more then a tool to help those he loves, he would not risk his siblings lives for bloodthirsty humor. Bad knows this but when faced with the hate others saw in him he waves off both his and his sons merit buckling down. Bad and Dapper have dark humor but are always making gifts and finding ways to help others. There is nothing on the island Bad is more set to protect then the eggs and this thought with Dappers message, Q!Bad really thought he needed to go all out to protect them, even still he held back a lot and would 2nd guess because he wanted to be absolutely certain of the egg’s safety.

He wasnt without reason yet with the boogeyman effect looming over his reasons never seem to be able to hold a candle to the more popular characters, and he often concedes a lot to it. He says it with a laugh, tease, and is sassy with it but still he concedes to others perceptions of him as he doesnt want to override others feelings. It can be a bit exhausting as things are blown out of proportion to what they were in originality but on a social breakdown of how things and information travels its very very interesting and I have been enjoying the dive even if it stings sometimes with reflective thoughts.

[katalyist]

Life series!Grian a survivor not a traitor

Alternative title: I thought about Life series!Grian for too long again and because Tumblr doesn't have a character limit I'm putting my thoughts on the Internet.

I'm not normal in how while watching Cleo's secret life final episode there was a silent agreement that Grian was no loyal when they had that conversation with Scott when they were trying to convince Gem to be on their side.

"I mean, don't ask about Grian's loyalty"

And Scott response was "I have never seen a man drop a pair of sunglasses quicker in my life. As soon as Joel dropped, the bad boy glasses were off"

To which Grian responded "My boys died, what did you want from me?"

Like how is Grian seen has someone that betrays or isn't loyal to his teammates? HE IS LOYAL, HE IS JUST TOO COWARD. He has never betray a teammate first.

Look, for example to third life: He promised Scar his life, and altough he warns the rest of players at the beginning about the scams Scar was doing, he always do what Scar did, he helped him, he create traps and didn't thought on betraying him until Scar betray him first, until Scar did it, when he recovered he was so mad and just jump to them shouting out that Scar was a traitor. AND THEN when Scar apologies and offers Grian to have the win he refuses because he still considers Scar his ally, and then the cactus ring happens and he feels bad, he feels bad for killing Scar, I don't think a traitor would be that bad to the point of killing themselves

Then in last life, where he killed two of his four teammates and started his reputation as "allies killer". First of all, when he turned red he had the oppurtinity to just turn on them, sure, he went back to the nether and threat Mumbo, but it was mostly joking and I think the most messed up thing was how afraid he was of not having any teammates that he was willed his best friend but couldn't find the courage on himself. The next episode he has already a plan to go back with his team AND get Joel out of red, like- he planned a way to be back with his allies and get his new ally (that if I had to remember you, was the one that killed him, but Grian was perfectly with him because he understands it was for the red impulses) out of red. Once he gets his yellow life back and goes back to the southlanders for a happy teammate reunion and discovers Jimmy was exiled he doesn't hesitate in saying he doesn't want him back because he betrayed the southlands; they have the votation, he says 'no' inmediatly and is surprised that other people said yes but doesn't oppose to it.

When Mumbo and Jimmy turned red he didn't try to kill them until their few attempts of murder, he did not attack Mumbo when he tried to end cristal him, he didn't attack them, even when they had that terrible attempt of a trap for him and Martyn. He attacked them when Jimmy physically tries to punch him to the trap that he looses the little patient he had left and kills him and then Mumbo for trying to stop him. Then Martyn betrayed him because of the boogeyman curse and when Grian finds Impulse he sounds so wounded because of that but even then he doesn't try to go for him, he makes a plan with Impulse to put a Wither on the base of team B.E.A.S.T because they were one of the biggest threats. Once Impulse died he was back with Joel and he didn't betray or left him, even when he had the opportunity to join bigger alliances than him.

With that out of the way we arrive to the fatal Double Life, I feel that this is the catalyst of Grian's character misinterpretation, mostly because of the cheat situation but: 1, that him and Scar and soulmates doesn't mean they are allies (see the two pair of soulmates that were literally divorce) and 2, he really tried to protect Scar and be a good ally. He made a base, he warned Scar to not go to places he could die and he even trust him with the sugar cane, when he lost it he trust Scar the sand he isn't even that angry or dissapointed on him. It also applies to BigB, he was a great ally with him too! He gave him sugarcane, cookies, tnt, they didn't attack eachother and the only reason why he killed him was because he forgot BigB was soulmates with Ren in his red madness, he even had a funeral for him and apologise for killing him. That is not traitor behaviour if you ask me.

And then finally Limited Life (my excuse and the real season I wanted to talk because I haven't left that bread bridge), the season where Grian is in his most loyal teammate arc of all. He is a coward of course, he plays safe always, in every single season, and that is what ends up being one of the reasons why Joel ends up dead. The bad boys were too reckless and idiots (in an affectionate way, I love them) for him to not fear for their lives constantly, and yes they almost felt apart, but that was after Jimmy killed Grian. Grian left Jimmy get the kills, they were trying to save him, when Tango (the boogeyman) killed Jimmy he didn't took the two hours from him because that would had permakill him, at the end Jimmy didn't die because of him, he just slip from the platform. They had the funeral and all, he left diamonds at his grave as an offer.

With Joel it is a little different, Grian didn't betray him, he didn't kill him, but he wasn't there because he was afraid of dying, in the middle episode 7 Joel wants to murder the family because they wanted to kill Jimmy "It wasn't their fault he died" trying to persude him to not do that to which Joel answers "I'm gonna send Scar a message" and Grian almost begs "No Joel, you got to be careful or I'm gonna be alone. I'm gonna be a singular bad boy" but he doesn't follow him, he doesn't go to kill people with him because they don't have a plan and it's obvious they will die.

Grian is a survivor, when he notices things are getting ugly he looks for a way out. When Joel goes on his murderous rampage after they talk to BigB he reunite again with him and Pearl to offer himself as a ally, making a list of all the things he is useful for, selling himself because he knows he will be alone at the end of that episode and alone players are easy targets. At first he wants them to become bad boys, he doesn't want to leave the mark, but they refused, and a survivor has to do what they have to do. He isn't even hiding why he wants to be friends with them and they don't have a problem with that.

"I have already kind of accepted he's gonna die in a way" he says while making a trap for the nosy neighbours while watching how Joel died (again)

"I mean, you completely abandon him at this point" Pearl points out (and if I watched Pearl more I could talk about how Life Series Pearl seems to have really trust issues with people that is so confident in leaving allies behind because she keeps repeating how Grian is not with Joel, she is so 'I will die for you', and it was prove in the final of secret life, I love her so much).

And Grian doesn't deny it, he does try to excuse his behavior with a "Joel reaches a point where he just loses his mind completely and he was way past that a while ago. Jimmy's death has kind of got an adverse affect on him" just to be silent a second, finish placing the TNT cards and going "But I will have to go and see if he is okay in a minute"

He cares about his last truly ally even when he knows Joel will die, Grian can't just stand still and wait for it to happen "I'm gonna have to go and see if Joel is okay. He must be on less than an hour and if I don't say bye, I'm gonna regret it"

And once he is with Joel again he doesn't hide that he has allied with the nosy neighbours from him. It is the first thing he tells him actually "I've just been like making new friends because you have lost your mind". That is not betray behavior, that is not 'I'm gonna back stab you' or 'I'm leaving you now'. And Joel gets it, he gets that Grian is too coward to confront people directly, that he is not a pvper and accepts him like that. And then they have this conversation on Skynet while trying to get kills for Joel:

"Yeah, do you know what would be really funny? If I just knocked you off right now but I won't, I won't, I won't do that"

"I would do that for you. I would do that for you. Bad boys for life"

HOW IS THAT NOT LOYALTY? Grian, the one that is afraid of death, willing to die for his ally? Without hesitation answering that yes, he would do that for Joel. We have the hole "Kill me Joel. KILL ME" dialogue and scene after that even. Grian didn't wanted Joel to died, when he has five minutes Grian tries to tell him to kill him again before Joel denies. When they are going to see who Joel can kill is when he starts hesitating because he would lose two hole hours to get Joel back to just one hour, he is balancing saving his allies with keeping himself alive and at the end Joel's rampage ends up killing him and Grian is without his bad boy.

He enters in full survivor mode and downplays Joel's death in front of everybody but contradicting his discourse of 'It was getting expensive to keep him alive' once everyone is gone he tells Pearl and BigB they should have a funeral for Joel fully knowing they weren't his allies. He makes Joel a grave too, like they did with Jimmy and says some words for him. How could that not be loyalty? The last episode he uses the bad boy skin, all season he forgot to use it and had to be remember by the others to use it, and then he puts it even if he 'isn't a bad boy anymore' to honor his allies.

I think the most close he was to betray an ally was when at the end he enacted the sword and ally with Impulse and Etho whitouth talking it with Pearl and it ending with both Etho and Pearl killing eachother to be in peace. When they first met after Grian enactes the sword and Pearl goes to kill he tries to stop her, but he doesn't defend her (or Etho), he just tells them to stop. Grian character just... always leaves his allies do what they want? even if it is not the best for them, it is something he does with every one of his alliance really, he does his own and they do his own, Cleo actually points it out on their last episode while they are talking to the heart fundation and Grian gets bored and goes to do his plan to get Gem and Cleo is like 'yeah, he does his own things, don't pay attention to him'.

In Secret Life he was also truly loyal to the roomates, in part I think because he was afraid of loosing his only oportunitty to get some friends after three episodes of loneliness. Grian is always so desesperate to make allies every season, make people like him because it would mean someone would fight for him. The rommates is a very solid team and he reassures himself and they how he made the correct decision. They are not as attach as he was with his bad boys (that, talking about them, he had this weird no-alliance with Joel, changing hearts and not really attacking eachother until the very end) but it is stable.

Grian includes them in his plans, if they are not on board he respects it, but when he thinks it is something that can protect them he insists. He insists they should go to Joel's platform where he hide from the zombie apocalypse because it is the easiest to defend and they were chase by the people with more health on the server. When Etho died they took it seriously, when they are scaping he goes first through the portal that belongs to Gem, Impulse and Scott because "No point both of us dying" he could have left Cleo go first to be more safe but he didn't, he tries to make a trap to get Gem and the Scotts and he tells Cleo to back off because they would get hurt if they stay to close because he will manually activate it.

My conclusion? Grian is not a traitor, he has never betray his teammates until they cross the line first. He is a bad teammate? Oh, totally, not because he won't provide his allies with supplies or plans but because the moment it becomes dangerous, too risky for his constant safe plays he distants himself because he doesn't like risky plays, he is an expert in the 'long game' even if he won't win anything with it, he also has some kind of honor (if you want to put it that way) he won't attack the weakest unless he is corner to do it to keep himself alive, he always goes for the biggest alliance, the people with most hearts, the people with most potential of giving to bring them down with the rest.

As always thank you for reading how normally sane I'm about Life series Grian. Again, I write this mini kinda essays on the fly and don't check facts too much but Grian himself implying he is not loyal had me "are you sure about that?" and then this was write on my drafts. Thanks for coming to my Grian talk!

[lovebugism]

hiiii 😊 i LOVE your writing, especially shy!reader!! i heard you wanted more spooky/angsty requests, so...

maybe one with eddie where they're camping with the group around halloween and everyone is telling scary stories around the campfire, but reader gets really scared and doesn't wanna hear any more, but she can tell eddies having so much fun that she doesn't say anything. eventually eddie notices something's wrong but reader won't tell him what, then he figures it out and comforts her?

ty lovie! hope you like it! — eddie comforts you when your imagination runs too wild, maybe a little more than best friends are supposed to (shy!reader, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, 1.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

You know you shouldn’t be as scared as you are, but you keep torturing yourself anyway.

Robin Buckley, as it turns out, has about the same storytelling abilities as Edgar Allan Poe. She spins a web of horror with nothing but a couple wretched words and a wild imagination. Lit up orange by the simmering campfire, you listened to her in wide-eyed horror — like a child just learning about the boogeyman.

She’s stomping out that fire now, laughing loud and pretty after telling Nancy some dirty joke, and acting like she didn’t just get done telling the gnarliest ghost story of all time. You’re frozen on the rickety bench that overlooks the pitch-black lake, too busy convincing yourself that there’s a figure in the treeline — a Jason Vorhees equivalent on his way to murder you in your sleep.

Eddie’s sitting beside you, though. The warmth of his presence puts you at ease, like a belly full of food or a warm bed. You nearly jump out of your skin when he rises from the picnic table.

“Me and Steve were gonna go smoke,” he tells you, pulling a smushed carton of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. “You okay here?”

You blink at him for a moment. It takes you a second too long to hear him, having been so stuck in your own head. You don’t trust your voice, so you just nod and try your best to smile something convincing. It’s a grimace, at best.

Eddie sees right through you. You’re rarely so passive with him. He’d only asked ‘cause he doesn’t like to smoke around you much. He knows you don’t like it. Now he’s scared he might’ve offended you in some way.

“You sure?” he presses, bushy brows pinched in concern.

You nod again, much slower this time and far more dramatic.

Eddie smiles down at you, pink and lopsided. This quiet, sarcastic version of you is much more familiar. “Well, are you gonna speak, or are you gonna do the not-talking thing for the rest of the night?”

He flicks a strand of your hair. You squint. What not-talking thing? you’d argue if he didn’t know you so damn well. Instead, you just tell him, “I’m okay,” in the firmest tone your mousy voice can muster.

“Do you wanna come with?”

He cocks a thumb over his shoulder, where Steve’s brave figure ventures up the darkened trail to his dad’s lakehouse. You cower under the weight of his chocolate stare, wringing your clammy hands in your lap. 

“Is that okay?” you ask in response.

Eddie scoffs. “Of course, it’s okay! Want you everywhere I go.”

You try not to get all flustered about it. Friends aren’t supposed to burn up like a stove-eye when their best friend is nice to them. It’s impossible not to, though, when Eddie’s leather-clad arm wraps around your shoulders — to keep you close, maybe, or to keep you warm. 

Your stomach is in knots about it either way.

You lean further into his warmth. He smells like cologne and boy and a weekend on a lake. You wrap your arms around yourself when a crisp breeze prickles your skin. You clench your jaw to keep your teeth from chattering.

Eddie sees everything you hide from him and holds you tighter. “Told you to wear a jacket.”

“It was warmer earlier!” you retort without missing a beat.

“Well, that’s why you listen to me.”

“I didn’t have a jacket big enough to wear over my sweater!”

“I told you to borrow mine, you loon!”

“But then you would’ve been cold!”

The married couple arguing fills the darkened woods, illuminated only by a dim moon and some amber lanterns hung every couple yards. Something rustles in the pitch-black, and the bickering ceases. 

Your heart lurches into your throat. You gasp, almost cartoonishly so, and your sneakers scuff along the gravel when you freeze.

Eddie laughs it off like he always does. The warm, honeyed, boyish noise doesn’t comfort you like it usually does. “It’s okay,” he tries to assure you through his chuckling, squeezing your shoulder with a warm hand. “It’s probably just, like, a rabbit or something.”

You remain frozen and unswayed. “Sounded heavier than a rabbit…”

“What? You are, like, an expert on wildlife now?” Eddie teases, if only to make you smile. You do, but just barely. He holds you tighter and juts his chin back to look down at you, grinning wide to make up for the lack of yours. “You spend one weekend in a cabin, and suddenly you’re a know-it-all on nature?”

You start smiling wider despite yourself. The sparkly feeling Eddie swirls in your chest is much more powerful than the tiny, lingering fear in your tummy.

“I just know what footsteps sound like, dork.”

The rustling returns, louder now. Tree limbs crack when they’re broken beneath the weight of something definitely heavier than a rabbit. When two figures appear from the blackened forest, you stumble into Eddie on instinct. He presses you closer to him without thinking, pulling you backward from the lanky silhouettes across the trail.

One step closer, and the shadows have faces. Jonathan and Argyle stand shoulder-to-shoulder in the tall grass. They’re starry-eyed, gazes rimmed red. The latter lifts the hem of his t-shirt, forming a bowl of something you can’t see.

“Hey, brochachos!” Argyle greets, perhaps a little too loud for the late night.

Jonathan is the only halfway sober one of the two, so he notices the fright dancing in your features before his best friend can. He mumbles, much quieter in comparison to his brightly-dressed counterpart, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“The hell are you guys doing out here?” Eddie wonders with a partly forced laugh.

“Scavenging for mushrooms,” Argyle answers like it’s obvious. He brings down the bottom of his shirt and flashes the makeshift bowl of mushrooms he’s collecting there.

The brunette boy nods. Slow, dumbfounded, and a little impressed. “That is a… totally normal thing to be doing in the middle of the night… We’ll, uh— We’ll leave you to it, I guess.”

“I’ll make sure to save you some!” the Californian boy promises as the two of you head up the trail.

Eddie’s hold on you doesn’t waver. His leather arm is firm in its grip and its delegation to keep you close to his side. You’re halfway stumbling to keep up with his longer strides, but you don’t mind it. You’re just happy to be held. 

“You can breathe now, you know?” he teases. 

You manage a trembling laugh. You know you have nothing to worry about, but you’re still high-strung and worried without cause. “Sorry. I just… I don’t know— I got a little scared.” 

“Yeah. I can tell,” Eddie scoffs. “Feels like I’m hugging a rock right now.”

Your laugh is more genuine this time, but still a bit forced. Eddie can tell. You’ve been quiet all night, reserved and a little standoffish. You’ve always been a little timid in your way, just more than he’s used to now. 

“Was it those dumb ghost stories everyone was telling earlier? ‘Cause I said we shoulda just played Spin the Bottle instead.”

You lean further into him to nudge him with your shoulder. “It’s fine. I’m just a baby.”

“No, Robin is just the second coming of Stephen fucking King.”

“Yeah, that’s also probably true,” you concur with a shrug, feigning a sort of nonchalance despite your racing mind. “My imagination is just… a little crazy sometimes.”

“Trust me, I know,” Eddie sighs, then slows down so he can face you more. His features are softened beneath the amber glow — more so when he gazes at you with a honeyed fondness you’re not entirely sure two friends are supposed to have for each other. 

You’re cold when he unwraps his arm from around your shoulders — warm again when he holds your cheek in a calloused palm. You hope you’re not burning him with how hot your face has gone.

“I wanna know what’s going on in here,” he murmurs quietly, tapping a ringed finger to your temple.

“It’s a scary, scary place,” you joke back. It’s mostly true, but you figure it’s easier than saying that your brain is so often filled with thoughts of him.

“Well, I’ll protect you from whatever nasty horrors your mean ol’ brain conjures up,” Eddie promises, nose scrunched and dark eyes sparkling.

Your chest swells with a foreign warmth, so hot it burns. “Thanks, Eds,” you mumble, trying your hardest not to melt into a puddle at his feet. The two of you fall into stride once more.

“I’ll even let you sleep in my bed and put your cold feet on me if you want.” He offers it begrudgingly. Like it’s some kind of burden. He doesn’t mind it, though. He’d beg you for it if you wanted him to.

You scoff and roll your eyes. “How chivalrous.”

“You’ll have to put up with Harrington’s snoring, though.”

The two boys are sharing one room while the rest of you girls share the other. You pinch your brows and flash him a pointed look. “Eds, you snore.”

His face screws up in offense. “I do not!”

[cinnaminsvga]

🥀 | yoongi

the sleep deprived series (n.): drabbles that i write when i’m sad and tired

→ vampire!yoongi ft. lots of miscommunication (all because newly-turned yoongi doesn't know how to talk to women lol) | 2.6K words → a/n: SURPRISE i am miraculously alive and well (?) back at it again with some weird monsterfucker propaganda... it's been months since i've written a fic so pardon the lacking quality but i Am Trying... also i added ghost!maknaeline bc i think they'd be cute... umm this might become a series if anyone is interested but i think it works as a standalone... enjoy!!!

When Yoongi first agreed to being turned, he never imagined being so tired all the time. Even as a mortal, Yoongi had never been the most energetic soul. He preferred loafing around at home or reading a nice book by the fire. He rarely left his drafty villa, always isolated despite the nearby town. The most cardio he would ever do was when he’d take the few steps needed to get to his piano and play a few soft songs for the ghosts wandering down his halls.

He knew the neighbors liked to whisper about him, liked to refer to him as a local boogeyman to scare naughty children. “Beware the man who sold his soul to the devil,” they warned, though Yoongi supposes their silly rumors weren’t so far from the truth. Although, it was only a month ago that he did “sell his soul,” just not for the reasons that people might have expected.

Still, being a vampire was still very strange and new to Yoongi. He’d known about spirits and ghosts for as long as he can remember, but even he thought that creatures of the night were nothing more than an urban legend. All it took was one high-stakes game of cards and an empty promise to pay back a debt for Yoongi to realize that it probably isn’t smart to make deals with ghoulish-looking men in strange clothing in the first place.

It wasn’t all bad, save for the never-ending fatigue and deathly pallor to his skin. He was still Yoongi, just… worse, if you will.

For safety’s sake, he hadn’t told anyone about it. He was a bit embarrassed, to be honest. If his brother found out, he’d surely get an earful (or a stake through his heart, though Yoongi hopes his Seokjin hyung would remember all the good times they had together). Most importantly, he could absolutely NEVER tell you about his turning. That would be absolutely humiliating.

You were a witch doctor he had met just a few weeks prior to his turning. You had just moved into his sleepy town as a “pharmacist” who could “magically” make any ailment disappear. You had decided to move there on a whim after being exhausted from the high-paced nature of the big city.

You had spotted a small line of ghosts trailing after him on the night you had moved in. He had been on the way to the convenience store for a caffeine fix, and you had been on the way there to grab a couple of toiletries you had forgotten to pack.

You were so sweet, shyly approaching him under the guise of asking him if he could reach for a snack on a high shelf. But he could see your worried gaze fixed on the three spectral children climbing on his back, though he did nothing to shoo them away. After all, they had no mass, so as long as they didn’t lick his neck or something weird, he was fine with letting them be menaces.

When he had his back turned away from you to grab your snack, he could hear you quietly telling the ghosts to get off of him. They only laughed in response, their giggles always sounding a little muffled and distorted.

Yoongi plucked the bag of chips from the shelf and turned back to you, catching a glimpse of your annoyed expression before you could school it back into something more neutral.

“Is something the matter?” Yoongi asked smoothly, handing you the bag. He amusedly watched as your brows furrowed, not even hiding that you were glaring pointedly at the little gremlins making faces at you from his shoulder.

Jungkook, the youngest of the three ghosts, climbed on Yoongi’s head before proceeding to pull down his pants, mooning you with his spectral ass.

“Uh, nothing,” you eventually said, huffing indignantly as you stomped away. Yoongi caught you discreetly poking your tongue out in annoyance before you turned to another aisle.

Thus began your cautious attempts at exorcising him without trying to “alert” him to it. It was amusing to watch you try to “save” him from the three little ghosts that decided to cling onto him, and it was even more amusing to watch you fail repeatedly every time.

Yoongi made no comment when you were suddenly bumping into him everywhere he went. There was always a terse grin on your face as you performed as many anti-ghost spells as you could, but none of them ever seemed to work. The truth was, ghosts could only be exorcised if the haunted person in question wanted them to leave, but Yoongi had found himself a little fond of these stupid little kids. They might be slowly sucking the life force out of him, but Yoongi didn’t really care. They were just kids, and he’s always been too soft for his own good.

Your many encounters with him created a subtle friendship of sorts, one that Yoongi found himself enjoying. He was never been one to foster friendships with living beings, but perhaps your sweet attempts to save his soul might have defrosted his little grinch heart. But he wouldn’t ever tell you that, of course.

Plus, it didn’t hurt that you were very pretty, for that matter. He certainly would NEVER tell you that as well.

Was he feeling guilty for not telling you about his ability to see ghosts? Slightly. But was it cute watching you trying to outsmart three little ghost babies to no avail? Very much so.

So, Yoongi stayed quiet and enjoyed your company, even if you had no idea who he was or what type of things he was capable of.

That was until he got into that damn bet with the stupid bloodsucker.

Probably shouldn’t call him that, given that I’ve become one myself, Yoongi groaned internally. He’d been hiding in his house for a month now, and your “random” visits were surely on the horizon. He wasn’t sure if you’d immediately clock that he’d turned into a vampire, but he wasn’t going to risk it. If you found out, then you’d find out about everything, and that wouldn’t be a good impression.

Yoongi knew he wasn’t great at interacting with people, let alone people he had a crush on. But at least he knew that lying to someone for extended periods of time was probably not in his favor.

Little Jungkook fluttered close to him, his smoky form twinkling from the moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “When is the pretty witch coming to visit?” he asked, a little forlorn. Among the three ghosts, Jungkook was the one who’d grown attached to you the most. “I miss playing with her…”

Yoongi sighed, rubbing his face. “Hopefully never,” he responded, voice muffled by his hands. He peered through his fingers and saw the two other kids floating by his doorway.

Jimin, the older twin, nudged Taehyung forward to speak. “Y-Yoongi… I think she’s coming soon,” Taehyung whispered, a tinge of excitement evident in his tone.

“You can’t keep hiding from her forever… She's sure to find out anyway,” Jimin warned, uncharacteristically stern.

Yoongi stretched his tired limbs, his aching back cracking as he pushed himself off his sofa. Time moved weirdly ever since he turned into a vampire. This month had felt like a day, so it was hard to tell how long he'd been sitting so still. His creaking bones gave him an idea though, that's for sure. “I know… how much do I have to bribe you three to scare her away?”

Jungkook giggled, floating over to sit on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Nothing. We do that all the time for free,” he snickered.

Taehyung nodded in agreement. “It’s true… but she never seems to go away even when we do.”

“In fact, I know she thinks we’re cute,” Jimin said, and Yoongi couldn’t help but agree. Your cat and mouse game with the three idiots was probably past the point of annoyance and more towards the territory of playfulness. You likely noticed how they weren’t exactly the malicious ghosts that people feared, so you humored their antics.

(Yoongi hoped that you stuck around for him, too.)

“How much longer ’til she gets here?” Yoongi asked, walking to his bedroom. The air was stale inside the room, not having to use the bed as much as he once did. He opened his closet, trying to find some better-looking clothes than the threadbare robe he had decided to live in. He plucked a nice button-up shirt, before thinking better of it.

Am I really going to look like a stereotypical vampire when I meet her? What’s next, a cape?

“She’s a few blocks away,” Taehyung responded. The ghost paused, looking at the shirt Yoongi had put back. “No, wear that. She likes it when you wear that shirt.”

“She thinks you look regal in it,” Jimin agreed, grabbing his only pair of slacks. “These, too. She likes your butt in them.”

If Yoongi were still human, he’d probably blush. “I told you boys it’s rude to eavesdrop on her thoughts,” he scolded.

“You like the reassurance, though…” Jungkook muttered, but Yoongi ignored him.

“Two minutes away…!” Taehyung reminded him before disappearing. The two others followed suit, likely going to meet you before you arrived. Yoongi sighed, a headache slowly forming by his temple.

As promised, after two minutes, there was a knock from his front door. As Yoongi reluctantly approached and reached for the doorknob, he could hear you arguing playfully with his little friends.

“Taehyung, no pulling! I just got my hair fixed,” you whined. Despite your words, Yoongi could hear the affection in your voice, plain as day.

“You look really pretty today, noona…” Jungkook giggled, and Yoongi could imagine Jungkook placing a chaste kiss on your cheek in greeting. “Are you finally gonna tell hyung about your crush on him?”

“What are you talking about?!” you yelped. Yoongi heard something fall, then a string of curses from you. “Oh gosh, the food! I hope nothing spilled…”

“Don’t worry, noona. I doubt Yoongi hyung is hungry,” Jimin giggled slyly. “Unless you count how he’s hungry for you…”

Before you could reply to Jimin’s out-of-pocket comment, Yoongi swung open the door, an alarmed expression on his face. “H-hey, Y/N,” he began, a little awkwardly. He cleared his throat, trying to appear as if he hadn’t heard anything at all. “What do I owe this pleasure?”

You froze when Yoongi suddenly appeared. You were in the midst of rearranging the plastic bags of take-out food with your jaw agape, likely about to chastise Jimin for his rudeness. You floundered for a second before straightening up quickly. Your cheeks were a cute shade of red.

(Yeah, maybe he was a little hungry…)

“Yoongi! Oh god, sorry, I was just…” you stumbled for a moment, trying to figure out a way to explain yourself. Behind you, the three stooges grinned evilly, full of satisfaction.

“Do you need help?” Yoongi asked instead, bending down to gather your bags. The smell of take-out Chinese wafted into his nose, and he had to hide his growing smile. His favorite food, you had remembered. If he could eat, he’d be salivating.

“Yoongi hyung is salivating for a different reason…” Taehyung muttered, reading his thoughts. Yoongi and your eyes widened in alarm, causing the three kids to guffaw in response.

“Sorry, I was on the phone with somebody and the bags slipped,” you coughed, quickly grabbing the rest of the bags. In your haste, your hands accidentally touched, making you gasp in surprise.

“Gosh, Yoongi! Your hands are terribly cold! Are you alright…?” you asked, trailing off. When you tore your gaze away from his pale hand, you slowly turned to face him fully. Due to the uproar caused by the kids earlier, you hadn't been able to look at Yoongi properly since you arrived.

Yoongi braced himself, a terse smile on his lips.

You observed him silently, a mysterious emotion flitting through your face. Yoongi saw the way your gaze shifted to the injury on his neck, which he had recklessly forgotten to at least try to cover up. The dots were connecting, and Yoongi waited for you to make the first move.

To his surprise, you started by staring inquisitively at the kids. “Did you guys…?” you asked, suspicious. This was the first time you had openly addressed them in front of him, and Yoongi was shocked. Not only for that, but for also potentially thinking that they were to blame, somehow. Didn’t you trust them by now?

Jimin looked affronted, scoffing at your train of thought. “Us? Of course not! Why on earth would we do that to hyung?”

Jungkook huffed, wrapping an arm around your waist with a sad pout. “Yeah! Why would we hurt hyung on purpose? You don’t think we’d do that, right?” he asked, eyes watering with hurt tears.

Immediately, your expression softened. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…” you trailed off, sighing. As if remembering where you were, you snapped back to reality, staring incredulously at Yoongi as if he’d grown three heads. Well, or turned into a vampire, he supposed.

“Yoongi! What on earth happened?” you asked, terrified for him. Or perhaps, terrified of him? Yoongi knew he should be feeling guilty, or embarrassed, or maybe a little ashamed, but all he could see was your worry for him, and his dead little heart would have skipped a beat if it still could. God, he was pathetic.

Instead of answering you truthfully, Yoongi chose to run away from his problems, like he always did. “It’s just a mosquito bite,” he explained lamely. He rubbed the very conspicuous marks in question, wincing slightly. It might have been a month since he turned, but it still felt as tender as it did the day it happened.

You stared at him, unimpressed. “In the middle of winter? When you rarely step out of your house?” you asked sarcastically. You gave him a steely glare. “Be serious with me for a second, Yoongi.”

But Yoongi couldn’t. He couldn’t tell you, or else he’d literally die a second death, from embarrassment or heartbreak, he couldn’t tell.

“I… I don’t actually know,” Yoongi lied. It was sort of true. He didn’t know that the stupid bet would actually mean he’d give up his soul to pay for an impossible debt. He had been swindled, that was it. He still didn’t understand how he could’ve been so stupid.

“He didn’t know he was stupid… what a joke,” Jimin murmured, causing the others to giggle in turn. You and Yoongi ignored them.

When he didn’t explain further, your shoulders slumped, defeated. You likely didn’t believe him one bit, but you were never the type to push. You were probably as shy as he was, which had caused its fair share of misunderstandings in the past. Most of the time, those misunderstandings helped Yoongi, though he often wished that he didn’t need them. One day, he’d be honest with you, but for now…

“May I come in, Yoongi? There’s something I have to tell you…” you started, eyes shifting behind you. The kids hovered closer, watching you with curiosity.

Yoongi felt the air turn colder, though he wasn’t sure if it was just him, the wind, or the ghosts doing it. Or maybe it was you.

Yoongi opened the door wider, gesturing for you to come in. “Please, make yourself at home…” he whispered before closing the door gently.

Outside, the three boys didn’t make a move to come in.

“Now… we wait,” Jimin whispered. The other two nodded, faces determined. They floated to the second floor of Yoongi’s villa, still keeping their ears to the floor. As much as they wanted to interrupt, they knew this was an important development for the two of you. They wanted to give you a false sense of privacy, but they could never stop themselves from hearing the gossip. God knows that these rascals would be bored without their daily dose of real telenovela romance.

In the living room, Yoongi took a seat as far away from you on the couch as possible. He laced his hands with an iron grip, forcing himself to stop any fidgeting.

Breaking the silence, you sighed tiredly. “So… where do I begin?”

[cryptidorchid]

Writing out my thoughts on Pearl and Scott’s relationship in the Life Series (with more focus on Scott cause I haven’t watched all of Pearl’s episodes)

Scott feels like Pearl being hurt isn’t his problem

Something that sets Scott’s relationship with Pearl apart from the other teammates he had around the same time is that Scott is never protective of Pearl. He was protective of Jimmy when he turned red in Third Life and he was protective of Cleo in Double Life basically the whole way through. But with Pearl, he doesn’t seem that concerned for her. This is a result of the way their partnership started.

In Last Life, Scott started with two lives and Pearl started with six. Scott was uncomfortable being so close to red so he specifically went looking for someone to obtain a life from. Scott found Pearl and agreed to team with her in exchange for a life. The deal went well. Scott got a life. Cool.

The problems started in episode 2 when Joel was the Boogeyman. After trapping them in their house, Joel started attacking Pearl and Scott ran in to save her and was killed instead.

Afterwards, Scott was back on yellow and Pearl still has 5 lives so he asked Pearl for another life, an ask he was clearly uncomfortable with. Pearl is hesitant at first but agrees to give him another one.

It works out but I think this is the moment that really convinced Scott that Pearl doesn’t need protecting; she has way more lives than him and is decent at survival besides. And even if she does need protecting, he definitely shouldn’t be protecting her when he could be protecting himself. And I think this mentality really shows in the episode that follows this one.

Last Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 3 - 15:06-15:14 Scar: You give me that or I’m going to burn you Scott: He does have a right to burn- PEARL! Pearl runs away with the cactus Scott: I take no responsibility for her. She’s a loose cannon. Scar approaches a dog with a flint and steel Scott: That is her dog Pearl: NOOO!

Scott realizes Pearl’s making enemies with Scar and when Scar starts threatening her over it, Scott instantly takes Scar’s side and distances himself from Pearl (“I take no responsibility for her”). In order to keep himself safe, he is actively choosing to help Scar instead of protecting her. To be fair this is a rather low stakes situation where if Pearl actually ends up in danger, she can just give the cactus back, but a less low stakes situation is when Lizzie Boogey kills Pearl.

Last Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 3 - 24:20-24:25 After Lizzie Boogey kills Pearl Lizzie: It was gonna be either of you. I didn’t care which one of you died. One of you just had to die. Scott: To be fair, Pearl had more lives than me so it worked out better that way

It’s not like Scott is particularly understanding towards Boogeymen. When Joel killed him last episode, he was not this calm about it and told Pearl to kill Joel in revenge. But in this case, he just grabbed Pearl’s stuff and said he was glad it wasn’t him.

On top of that, it gets even more obvious that he’s not that bothered by the idea of Pearl dying when you compare the way he treats Pearl to the way he treats Cleo.

Last Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 6 - 6:45-6:58 After Scott says he won’t Boogey kill Pearl or Cleo Cleo: I couldn't take the trauma again Scott: Yeah, I wouldn’t do it to you Cleo. If anyone, I’d go for Pearl because she has more lives and it wouldn’t be as hard to deal with. Pearl, if I don’t kill anyone between now and the end, I may need to out of desperation

It's pretty clear that this is a result of Pearl having more lives than both him and Cleo and Cleo having joined their team specifically as a result of being betrayed. But all the same, Pearl dying is acceptable to him in a way that Cleo dying isn’t. Which I think also shows in episode 8.

Last Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 8 - 36:10-36:30 Scott: I witnessed you run out of the forest with Joel chasing you. By the time I got down to the bottom of the tower, you’d died, and I was so upset, Cleo Cleo: It's okay  Pearl: You’re witnessing a lot of death, Scott, and you haven't been there to save our lives  Scott: I also haven't been your cause of death, Pearl, to be fair.  Scott pulls out a potion of harming Scott: All it takes is two of these apparently. It could be quick and clean.

The difference in treatment is incredibly obvious. He feels bad about not saving Cleo. He thinks Pearl should be grateful he didn’t kill her himself. Granted, there is a world where Scott is upset here not because he failed to save Cleo but because he failed to kill her to cure himself of the Boogeyman curse. I’m going to talk about why I don’t think that’s the case soon.

Regardless of his intentions with Cleo, him responding to Pearl by reminding her that he could be killing her instead does indicate that he’s annoyed by the idea that he should be protecting Pearl.

Tangent about why I think Scott was more concerned about Cleo’s wellbeing than his own in this moment: 

Right before Cleo died, Scott was aiming at Joel who was in the forest, rather than Cleo who was out in the open.

 In order to get Cleo's stuff out of the river as quickly as possible, he took the worst possible path down from the tower.  He took 9.5 hearts from fall damage. Even with regen he had 3 hearts by the time he got down there. Even if he was in a rush in case Joel tried to steal Cleo’s stuff, it’d be even worse if a red name was down there while he had 3 hearts total. 

Even after acknowledging that Cleo died because Joel caught her on her own, he goes out on his own in the middle of the night because he’s worried Cleo might be trapped in their secret base.

He runs into Grian and Joel on the way and as he’s fleeing, he yells “Why did you kill Cleo?”

In general, I think this entire sequence shows a lack of self-preservation on Scott’s part and implies he was acting emotionally rather than strategically. If he was really just concerned about himself, this feels like an odd way of going about it.

This isn’t to say that Scott doesn’t care about Pearl’s wellbeing at all. When he’s going to look for Cleo, he asks Ren to protect Pearl since Pearl was looking after Cleo’s stuff which was outside the safety of the wall. He didn’t need to ask Ren to do that but he did because he cares about Pearl. I don’t want to give the impression that they have no sweet and caring moments together. They do. It’s just not important to this analysis so I’m not going into detail.

TLDR; Scott never puts Pearl’s wellbeing over his own which is in contrast to the way he treats Cleo, his other teammate during Last Life. As much as he’d prefer Pearl to be well, if she’s not, he doesn’t feel like it’s his fault or his responsibility to fix.

This leads me into Double Life.

Scott never regretted rejecting Pearl

I don’t think Scott ever really hated Pearl. He was mad at her for not looking for her soulmate and going to the Nether. So he thought not teaming with her would be an appropriate punishment and would be better for him since he would be teaming with someone he feels is committed to him.

In spite of this, he still suggests there’s a possibility of reconciliation in both episodes 2 and 3.

Double Life - Pearl’s POV - Episode 2 - 21:54-22:04 Scott: Me and Cleo had already bonded. We spent the entire day running on the server meeting everyone else and you never showed up.  Pearl: You can bond still with more people. It's fine. Scott: It's going to take time, Pearl

Double Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 3 - 26:02-26:08 Scott: Pearl, you come back after I’m done with these two and we can then go over our issues. How about that?

Him saying this implies to me that Scott never really meant to be angry at Pearl forever. So why did he break up with her in the first place? Well, he didn’t really expect her to take it as hard as she did.

Double Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 2 - 22:55-23:00 Pearl: I wasn't trying to be your soulbound, Scott. I never wanted to be your soulbound Scott: Then, why are you making a big deal about it?

Double Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 2 - 23:32-23:43 Scott: Maybe you have gone a little loopy irl! Like, do you want me to call someone in person?  Pearl: Look, Scott, you've done me some damage, alright? Scott: Apparently!

Even though she was struggling more than he expected and he’s not necessarily happy about that, this doesn’t convince him to change his mind though because again, he doesn’t feel like it’s his responsibility to protect Pearl’s wellbeing, especially not over his own. To him, Pearl being heartbroken over it, though unfortunate, doesn't make his actions wrong. On top of that, Pearl actively harming him through powdered snow and being liable to cause problems in his relationship with Cleo also wasn’t helping him sympathize with her. 

Double Life - Pearl’s POV - Episode 3 - 19:20-19:44 Pearl: So, what you’re saying. Right now. Is that I should kill Cleo one more time and then you won’t be… even soulmates at that point Scott: See, you’re not red. You’re not allowed to do that Pearl: What do you mean? As far as I’m concerned I’m red as can be, Scott. Scott: As far as your sanity, yes. Gone! Gone. Far gone Pearl: And whose fault is that, Scott?! Scott: It’s not my fault you have separation issues! Pearl: Of course, I have separation issues! Everyone abandoned me! Of course, I have issues, Scott! Scott compliments Pearl’s build Pearl: Oh thank you. Someone’s being nice to me today Scott: I can be nice to you when you’re not being unhinged. If you’re less unhinged, people will be nice to you!

Pearl presents a threat to Scott and to his relationship with Cleo, if not Cleo herself yet. As long as that’s true, he will never feel bad enough to take her back. The only reason he teamed with her later was because the threat of red names outweighed the threat of Pearl. As much as he doesn’t enjoy being enemies with Pearl past the initial anger at her, he sees the situation as unfortunate but not really his responsibility to fix, especially if Pearl isn’t going to change. 

And I don’t really think Scott ever changed his mind on this.

Double Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 6 - 14:52-15:21 Pearl: You know what, Scott. It might’ve been hard to forgive you at the start of the season for just abandoning me like that but you know what, you’re pretty good. You’re a pretty good partner Scott: Thank you- I mean, we tested it last time and it worked well. It was just you hurt my feelings when you went away with Martyn and me and Cleo looked for you- Pearl: Hey! Scott: -for ages and then I couldn’t find you and I was sad Pearl: You know, I’m just gonna talk this out for a second. How about reverse, right? You ran off with Cleo from my perspective Scott: We bumped into everyone else. We were actively looking for our soulmates Pearl: I was looking!

Double Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 6 - 14:52-15:21 Pearl: Look, it's my time to ditch you after the first episode. Think of it as karma. Scott: So, we've done a full loop because you ditched me in the first episode then you came back and then you're going to ditch me again Pearl: You ditched me in the first episode. Don't you pretend to play it like that was never your fault  Scott: You didn't make yourself available, Pearl. How was I meant to find you if you were never available!

Whenever Pearl brought it up, he was incredibly clear that he felt the break up was Pearl’s fault. I know some people like to see the sacrifice as Scott apologizing for breaking up with her but everything he says before that actively contradicts that read. I personally believe that when he said that Pearl deserves the win, he was talking about Pearl taking out four other competitors basically on her own. You might think that his reasoning for sacrificing himself in the finale should have been stronger/more emotional, but well… it’s Scott. And he does genuinely care about Pearl to an extent. This read may be less satisfying to some people but I do feel it’s more accurate to his character.

TLDR; Scott always felt that rejecting Pearl was justified. He still cares about her but he doesn’t feel that her taking the rejection harder than expected is his responsibility especially since he considers her a threat to his well being. 

Pearl never forgave Scott for rejecting her

I know that Pearl explicitly said she forgave him in the finale but her behavior in later seasons and the fact that this was the second time she’s supposedly “forgiven him” really make me doubt that.

Double Life - Pearl’s POV - Episode 6 - 40:20-40:22 Pearl: I guess I forgive you after all

First of all, this is the second time she’s said she’s forgiven him and yet the way she phrases this makes it sound like it’s the first time, meaning she took back the original forgiveness. Why?

Well, last time she tried to tell Scott she forgave him, Scott reminded her that he doesn’t feel bad about rejecting her. Which I suspect is what convinced her to rescind that forgiveness. I think that her forgiveness was intended less as expressing genuine forgiveness but a way of trying to validate her own pain.

The entirety of Double Life, Pearl has been trying to hurt Scott. She complains about not having friends but this isn’t making her any friends and she’s reluctant to be friends with Scott so what’s the goal? Well, I think she just wants Scott to regret rejecting her. 

Double Life - Pearl’s POV - Episode 2 - 2:48-3:02 Pearl: I'm not gonna be as careful. You know what? It's okay. I'm not gonna be as careful. I'm gonna do my own self and Scott can do what Scott wanna do, you know? This is me now. This is Pearl now. You've done this, Scott.

She’s monologuing to a Scott that’s not there because this is what she wants him to think. She wants him to think “Oh, I’ve made a terrible mistake!” 

That’s why she’s telling him she forgives him later. Because her forgiving him implies that he was in the wrong. Which was instantly ruined by Scott reminding her that he was mad at her. So she revoked that forgiveness because it wasn’t accomplishing what she wanted.

And maybe, in the finale, Pearl did interpret Scott’s sacrifice as an apology or maybe she just wanted to say it again now that Scott wasn’t alive to contradict her. Either way, I think since Scott doesn’t regret his actions that forgiveness is inherently fragile and Pearl has proven that she’s willing to revoke that forgiveness. Her behavior in later seasons proves that.

Limited Life - Pearl’s POV - Episode 5 - 25:00-25:06 Tango: BigB. Pearl, you guys are in with the TIES. Absolutely  Pearl: Alright, we don't have to make up with Scott now, BigB

Limited Life - Pearl’s POV - Episode 5 - 26:21-26:34 Pearl: We got TIES now, you see, and now we don't need to ally with Scott. We don't need allies with the Clockers. We're good BigB: Now, I don't know if we need to make it up at all with the Coral Kid. But-  Pearl: Nah, we're good. We don’t need them.

Okay. Pearl. You know there was another member of Mean Gills right? He may have chased you earlier? Name starts with an M?

Secret Life - Pearl’s POV - Episode 9 - 48:08-48:18 Pearl: It's you and me, Scott. We gotta finish what we started from Double Life. We got something to finish up. I'm gonna murder you~

She’s clearly not over Double Life.

TLDR; Pearl's already revoked her forgiveness once and her actions after Double Life imply that she still holds a grudge against Scott. So it seems unlikely that her forgiveness at the end of Double Life was genuine.

Conclusion

It’s hard to say that Scott and Pearl hate each other because most of the time, they act quite friendly and closer with each other than with most of the other Lifers. But they never really resolved the conflict from Double Life. They neither changed their mind nor really sympathized with the other person’s point of view. As a result, there’s always some resentment under the surface. This goes for both of them by the way. Pearl may switch to spiteful at random but Scott can go cold and lose all affection for her at the drop of a hat. And now they’ve got this on-again off-again frenemies type relationship. They’re probably going to be friends again next season and decide they hate each other by the end again too.

[nothomegal]

“The little owl family” (Part 6)

(RZ!Michael Myers x GNReader)

Summary: your and your little sister’s life had an 180° turn when your parents got into a severe car crash, dying on the spot. You, being already past 18 had to figure out how to keep things afloat and give yourself, specially your sister, a good future. And you did! It was hard but you did it and became the absolute hero in the little girl’s eyes. People would often involuntary smile at the dynamic of your two, so wholesome and supportive, the perfect family bond.Bond that a certain Boogeyman noticed as well…

Warnings: a very light reference to suicidal thoughts at the beginning.

Word Count: 4k

Additional info: Gender Neutral reader. (S/N) = sister’s name.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

It's been a day or two after that late meeting between (S/N) and Michael. And... Things went oddly well from then! The little girl became more relaxed in his presence, and would often send him small waves when (Y/N) wasn't looking, and Michael would often answer with the same little wave. It became a little secret game of theirs, it was simple yet fun. The numerous close calls of getting caught or suspected by the older sibling would always awake the childish mischief inside of the man, the possibility to fool around a bit made him feel oddly comfortable and at ease, like momentarily experiencing the childhood he never had.

He also noticed that (Y/N) themselves began to act more on ease around him. There weren't as many death glares sent at his direction, mostly just some cassual glances as if to check what he's up to or where he is. He won't lie, he kinda missed the attention he used to recieve, but this calmer and passive (Y/N) wasn't too bad neither, it kinda made him feel more normal and welcomed actually.

But soon he began to notice that maybe this sudden passivity didn't start out of nowhere, and the reason would be uncovered pretty soon...

. . .

A light groan escaped through (Y/N)'s lips as they make their way towards the kitchen after putting their little sister to sleep. While walking, they've been holding their bandaged hand close to their chest, an instinctive attempt to soothe the throbbing pain that only increased over the days. They're pretty sure their awful sleeping also played a huge part of why the pain is so unbearable. The countless nights they've spent guarding the door of (S/N)'s room and staying on high alert durning most of the day over the past week really drained them, both phisically and mentally. Leaving just enough energy to breathe and maintain a positive actitude around their sister.

They let a sight of relief once they stopped in front of a counter that had all the medicines in. The older sibling reaches for the container of painkillers only for it to be suddenly snatched away right under their nose.

Already knowing who did that, they slowly turn towards the responsible of it, tiredly glaring at that stupid emotionless masked face they hated with burning passion.

The two of them remained still, observing each other in silence. Michael didn't even tilt his head, meaning that he wasn't wondering or asking, no... He wanted to know what they're doing and he wanted to know it now.

—"...What?"— you eventually blurt out.

No answer or movement.

—"I'm not going to kill myself, I just need some medicine because my wrist hurts..."— you elaborate tiredly. —"Can you give in back, please?"—

Still nothing.

The container was actually at a reachable distance. If (Y/N) really wanted they could probably snatch it back. But of course they're not stupid to attempt that, Michael is a very deceiving specimen and things are never as simple as they look when it comes to him and his shenanigans, (Y/N) learned that the hard way.

—"Look. I'm. In. Pain. I need this because I no longer can handle it. Please, give me back the container."—

Nothing.

They grit their teeth out of anger and frustration. Is this bastard mocking them now? Silently enjoying their suffering? Or he's genuinely oblivious of their clearly not okay state?

—"You did this to me, remember?"— you snap as you lift your bandaged hand to show it. —"You broke my wrist, it's been hurting for days and right now it's freaking unbearable. So please, just give me the painki-"—

Their heart nearly stopped when their injured wrist was suddenly grabbed by the masked man. All (Y/N) could do now is stay frozen and helplessly stare at the black eye sockets of the rubber mask, which were staring right back at their shocked expression. They didn't even notice their hands became shaky, anxiety slowly flooding their mind as they suddenly remember who is the man in front of them.

Michael Myers, the man who escaped Smith's Grove by killing with his bare hands anyone who stayed on his way, the man who scarred his own little sister for life by kidnapping her and killing everyone dear to her just because, the man that somehow escaped death and kept his reign of terror for an entire year without anyone being able to do anything... This man, this monster did horrible things, things that he can do to them whever he wants, and he may do it right now as punishment for their boldness and lack of self preservation.

(Y/N) doesn't even know what face they're making, their emotions are too unstable. The stress, frustration and exhaustion are way too much to handle right now. They can't even use the energy to mantain a stone face, not when they're trying to keep themselves from breaking down on the floor and scream out of the frustration.

They just want it to stop. They want him to go away and leave them and their sister alone. They want to stop feeling worry every second of their existence, to stop these anxiety spikes whenever the blade of his knife runs through their body as he teases them, to stop feeling fear whenever his dark gaze moves away from them and is casted on their little sister, to stop feeling guilt that creeps through them whenever they see sadness appear on the little girl's face when she catches them being upset, they wish they could make her smile again, please, make her real smile return...

They... They just want to stop feeling in danger... Feeling hopeless... Feeling like they failed...

Please...

Please... Make it all stop.

Whatever look they had, it was enough to make Michael suddenly let go of their arm. However, instead of walking away or stand still, he steps forward and closer to them, body langage unreadable as always.

(Y/N) doesn't move, they don't even look at him at this point. They simply let their arms fall limply on their sides and lower their gaze, not even noticing the hot tears sliding down their face.

They're so tired, they're done.

Their breath hitched when their body made contact with Michael's larger and warmer one, following comes the sensation of something equally solid and warm wrapping around their form in a firm grip.

The embrace was tight, maybe even tighter that the one from the night he broke in. It was hard to breathe, though (Y/N) is unsure if it's due Michael's strength or their own choked sobs they could no longer hold back. This gesture, though simple, broke them completely...

The more they quietly cried, the tighter the embrace got, as if the man was really trying to force them to spit all the angst out, and maybe he was. It's no secret that Michael has no knowlege about comfort, it's something he lacked most of his life after all. But now, right after seeing their gaze change, everything inside of him is yelling to grab (Y/N) and never let go. Their gaze... Oh, he knows that look.

That look on their eyes... It wasn't fear, it wasn't anger, it wasn't even hate. It was something dull, dull and lifeless, almost pleading for him to...

He presses his masked face against them. The only thought of having their blood on him makes him feel weird. Seeing (Y/N), who's usually composed, strong willed and straight up wild when it comes to the safety of their sister, so weak and broken in his arms, made the man feel very odd, a nasty and unpleasant type of odd.

—"...You."—

They grumble through gritted teeth as they press their forhead against his shoulder, as if really trying to hide their face.

—"I hate you..."—

He can feel (Y/N)'s fist collide with his back. Though the impact wasn't weak at all, it wasn't enough to make Michael let go, all the opposite, he only brought them closer.

—"I hate you."—

They repeat a bit lounder, tone cold yet broken.

—"Why do you still tormenting me? Why?... Why don't you just... J-Just..."—

Their voice breaks at the end of the sentence and is replaced by more cries. The punches soon ceased too, their hand slowly sliding off Michael's back. Soon their sobs began to quiet down and turn into ragged uneven breaths. They are mad, at themselves, at this man, at the world, at fucking everything!... But what pisses them off the most is that this bastard, the main responsible of their mysery, the devil everyone knows for the atrocities he commited, he's... He's somehow comforting them... Genuinely comforting them...

—"Why are you doing this?..."—

Silence.

—"Why are you making it look like you care?..."—

Because he does.

—"Why?... Why?"—

They kept repeating the same question over and over despite knowing that they will never get an answer. And to be fair, even if Michael could answer, he wouldn't. He doesn't know himself what he's doing or where this attachment came from or leads to, all he knows is that he desires to have (Y/N) close, hold into them like a predator into it's pray and never ever let go. But even with this unholy obsession, he can't deny the strange sense of comfort and completion (Y/N) brings him just by being around. Ever since (S/N) questioned him about his intentions and the strange attachment with the older sibling, he couldn't unsee or deny the way they make him feel. And even when they say they hate him, glare at him, try to hurt him... Even after all these unwelcoming actions, he just can't stop himself from wanting them around, from wanting them...

The two remain like this for a long time, even after (Y/N) stopped talking and crying they didn't move.

(Y/N) was a mess, both emotionally and mentally, yet they couldn't deny the fact of feeling a tiny bit better after letting it all out. Michael's grip on them remained tight, strong like steel, impossible to escape. It was like a cage... But a very needed cage.

No matter how much they try to deny it, deep down (Y/N) knows that they needed this, they needed someone to hold them tight as they spit all their concerns, pain and frustrations out. But that means nothing, that doesn't change the way they view Michael. Though his gesture is laudable, how do they know it's genuine? How do they know he's not taking advantage of them? Could this be his attempt to deceive them? Make them emotionaly dependent? And for what?... For what?!

What does he want from them for fuck's sake?!

They take one last deep breath, shuting down the swarm of thoughts and questions and finally calming down enough to speak properly.

—"Alright... I'm better, a bit better."—

But Michael made no movements, his grip remained strong.

They sigh again, a bit more annoyed.

—"Michael, really. I'm okay now. I-"—

They tried to lift their hands up to push themselves away, but a sudden yelp came out when they moved their injured wrist too harshly, making them recoil and Michael to finally let go.

—"Okay-... I'm not okay."— you grumble as you hold your bandaged wrist closely, trying to soothe the throbing pain.

When the ache somehow stabilized and (Y/N) looked up at Michael again, they were surprised to see him holding their car keys right in front of their face. They stare at the item a bit dumbfounded, questioning where the hell he wants them to go, until it eventually clicks.

They know what he wants them to do, and this is a golden oportunity to recieve propper help to their injury. But the anxiety and guilt of leaving their little sister alone, again, at night and with this man, is already eating them alive.

A couple of seconds of inactivity pass, and though (Y/N) was taking quite some time to decide, Michael remained stoic as a statue, patiently waiting for them to decide.

—"I..."— you sigh again, but with more determination. —"Nevermind. You're right, I need to go."—

They dry off the remaining tears on their face with a single rough wipe with their forearm. They have to quit crying, they embarassed themselves enough by having a meltdown in front of this bastart, which apparently was so bad and pity that he had to comfort them. Beside, they must stay strong, not just for their own sake but also for (S/N).

They reach for the key, but don't take it right away.

—"The terms are the same i suppose. I stay quiet about you and you don't disturb my sister, yes?"—

There is no movements from the man. Despite not seeing his eyes, (Y/N) had a gut feeling that he understood and accepted the deal. They mutter a quiet 'okay' before eventually taking the keys, without any issue suprisingly. Once all was settled, the older sibling steps aside but doesn't go towards the front door right away, instead they walk towards the stairs.

—"I'll make a quick check on (S/N) before I go, okay?"— you quickly explain before going up, not bothering to see if he did anything in response or not.

Suprisingly, Michael doesn't follow them, not this time. He remained at the bottom with his head turned towards the staircase.

To some the attention and worry (Y/N) shows for their little sister may seem overwhelming, but for Michael it is something to admire. They always place the little one in front of their own needs and safety, always checking on her and making sure she's safe and happy. Even after he came into their life, he saw the ammount of effort (Y/N) had always put into mantaining (S/N) away from him, to keep her hopes strong and always mantain that happy smile despite knowing it will dissappear as soon as he comes near...

(Y/N) is a good sibling, a very good and caring sibling. Is that how Judith could've been with him if given a chance? Would she ever made the same effort to treat him the way (Y/N) treats their little one? Would he be able to be as good to Angel? Was it too much to ask for her to remember him, to know who he is, to know her big brother was back home and be together as family ones again? Was it really so much to ask?...

"I wanna help you..."

"...But I don't know how..."

"...I wanna help you... But I don't know how..."

"...I wanna help you, but I don't..."

"YOU MOTHER FUCKER!"

Something inside of his chest squeezed uncomfortably, painfuly almost. He still remember these words and the way 'boo' screamed at him and the hate in her voice. It hurts, it hurts so much every time he remembers... He doesn't like the pain, it upsets him. Just why couldn't she recognize him?... What should he have done for that night to turn out different?...

The sound of footsteps softly going down the stair broke his train of thoughts.

—"Good news, (S/N) is still asleep. Doubt she will wake up until sunrise but I wouldn't go upstairs anyways, that girl sure wakes up from the randomest noises."— you comment quite casually.

However, they suddenly stop in their tracks when they reached the bottom and noticed that Michael wasn't following them with his gaze. A tiny detail that threw them off quite a lot.

—"...Are you alright?"—

The question made the tall man pause and realize that his hands were tightly clutched into fists. He slowly relaxes them, though an unpleasant aftertaste in his mouth and the general tension in his body remained.

Despite not having a clear answer, (Y/N) gives him a somehow knowledgeable look.

—"Remembered something bad?"—

He stays unresponsive for a moment, until he moves his head, giving a slow and barely noticible nod.

(Y/N) of course got a tag surprised, since it's the very first time Michael actually does something to answer them instead of staring blankly and let them figure out the message on their own. They don't focus on the sudden gesture though, instead they let out a small hum as they nod as well.

—"It happens... I too remember things I don't want to, a pretty nasty feeling gotta say."—

No answer.

(Y/N) seemed like they wanted to say more things, they decided against it and instead resumed their walk towards the front door. They stop to put some shoes and jacket, not minding too much the fact of them wearing pijamas. But before exiting, they look back at Michael's tall figure staring at them from the darkness, his pale masked face being the only visible feature.

—"I'll do my best to return before dawn, but no promisses."—

No reaction from the man, as expected.

They turn around and open the front door and pause again.

—"...Thank you, Michael."—

And after these words, they finaly step outside and softly close the door.

The masked man only tilted his head at this last sentence. Though these were three very simple words, he couldn't ignore how they affected him.

And the tension and ache from his memories were now completely gone, as if these bad feelings never came in the first place...

. . .

After a long wait and a ton of scolding from the doctors for neglecting their sleep and health, (Y/N) was finally driving back home. Luckly their wrist is healing fine, the sourse of the pain were the bad placement of the bandages and the overuse of their injured hand. Though they don't remember all the details, it seems like they'll be okay.

It was already dawn and the sun was slowly raising. However, they weren't too concerned, it was still early and there is no way (S/N) is awake, that girl sure enjoys lazy mornings after all.

And even after arriving home everything seemed in order, no weird vibes coming out the building and no funny feelings in their gut.

But the second they enter and close the front door...

—"(Y/N)!"—

A happy joyful voice exclaimed their name before something small launched at them into a hug with enough force to knock out some oxygen out of them. Nevertheless, the older sibling miraculously manages to mantain the footing and catch the little girl in a hug.

—"(S/N)?! How long you've been awake?!"— you ask in surprise and concern.

—"Oh... Uh..."— she thinks while poking her cheek with her finger. —"I think the little arrow on the clock was pointing at the number 5."— she innocently replies.

—"You've been awake since 5 of the morning?!"—you almost exclaim as you kneel down and take her hands. —"Are you okay? Were you scared? Did you know I was at the hospital? Did Michael do anything to you?"—

As an answer to their waterfall of question, the little girl childishly giggles.

—"It was all okay! But... I did get a tiny bit scared when I woke up and you weren't in the house, I though my nightmate of you dissappearing became true!... But then I saw Michael, and he explained that you went to see a doctor!"—

—"Michael... Explained?"— you arch your brow.

As soon as that question left their mouth, the tall man appeared at the entrance of the living room with a small toy ambulance in his hand.

—"Oh..."— you blink as you stare at the small item. —"I... I guess that makes sense how he did it."— you momentarily relax, but suddenly tense up again as you redirect your gaze to your sister. —"But seriously are you okay? Were you out your room this whole time?"—

The little girl shrinks in her place a bit flustered and embarrassed.

—"Well... I know you said last time not to exit my room when I had to stay with Michael, I swear I tried to follow your request! But..."— she bites her lip as she shrinks more. —"Please don't be mad, but I was just too scared to stay up there. You never left at night before! And... And when mom and dad left it was night too and-... And-..."— she starts hiccuping a bit by the end.

The little girl is interrupted when her sibling suddenly hugs her, holding her in a tight, secure and loving embrace.

—"Oh songbird, no... I'm so sorry if I came harsh on you, there is no way I can be mad at you for feeling scared for me."— you say as you place your head over hers. —"The first time I left, I was scared too... I was scared that when I come back you wouldn't be here..."—

A small gasp escaped the little girl and she quickly leans back to face her sibling.

—"You have nightmares of me disappearing too?!"— she asks quite surprised.

—"Yeah, I do."— you reply softly. —"Ever since I managed to convince the old ugly people to let me keep you, I sometimes have nightmares where they take you away."—

(S/N) frowns a bit, her childish mind not expecting that her usually super brave and calm sibling had such fears and concerns.

—"So please, don't feel bad, okay? Let's just be happy and celebrate that I made it home safely and you didn't disappear, yes?"—

—"Yeah... Yeah you're right!"— she exclaims, her happy-go-lucky tone returning. —"And Michael actually wasn't that bad! Though I wasn't in my room we still did our own things! Like, I presented him my toy dinosaurs while he stayed in thaaaaat corner over there and listened."—

—"Uh-huh..."— you mutter quietly as you glance at the tall man, who only tilted his head.

Man, if what the little girl is saying is true, then (Y/N) definetely owes Myers a medal for handling their sister's speech. Don't get them wrong, they love (S/N) to death and absolutely adore when she shares her interests and stories she invented about her toys or for their 'owl siblings' series! But sometimes she may get a bit too engaged with it.

Wait... Could that mean that Michael is being genuine with-.

—"And so... (Y/N)."—

(S/N) voice calling them snapped the older sibling back to reality.

—"About the 'celebrate' thingy..."— she says, suddenly shy.

—"You want me to make a cake, aren't you?"— you throw her an unimpressed look.

—"Yes!"— she giggles as she plays with her fingers. —"The cherry one, pretty please?"—

(Y/N) only rolls their eyes with a smile as they stand up and start taking off their jacket and shoes.

—"I guess I could make us a cake, remember the ingredients we need?"—

The little girl practically ignites in joy.

—"Yes! Yes I remember! Let me see if we have the all!"— she hurriedly says the last part before running into the kitchen.

The older sibling only chuckled as they finish undressing. They start going towards the kitchen but stopped right at the entrance, eyes already placed on the tall man.

—"Have you ever tried a cherry chip cake?"— you suddenly ask after a short pause.

The man slowly tilts his head to the other side.

—"I'll take it as a no. I'll make enough for you to have some too."— you pause. —"Don't get me wrong, it doesn't mean I trust you or enjoy having you around, but... I definetely owe it to you, for keeping an eye on (S/N) and such, and... And for what you did tonight."— you throw him a tiny smile before walking into the kitchen.

Michael didn't follow, not yet. His mind kept repeating that last image of (Y/N) over and over, from their suprisingly calm voice to the soft look in their eyes. But what would make his breath shake was the smile. It wasn't fake, it wasn't nervous, it wasn't out of politeness... It was a genuine, small yet sencere, dedicated to him and him only smile.

He lowers his gaze and places his hand on his chest, gripping the fabric of his coverals tightly.

It's hard to describe what exactly this set of emotions is, it all feels new. All he knows is that he suddenly feels warmth, a very soft and pleasant type of warmth...

It feels very familiar... Yet so distant and forgoten... As if he haven't experience these emotions for a long, long time...

...

...Happy.

He feels happy.

[mothduchess]

Kitsune HRT Part 3

Doors, are fucking,

TERRIFYING.

The office was unassuming by itself, yet the details spoke behind the facade's back, hinting to a truer nature. A nick upon the doorplate, how it could be pushed easily from any point on its towering height, or how dirt prints came in more varieties than just shoes. Snap! My gaze scampered upwards. The sun gazed unflinchingly from high above gazing through its mantle of clouds; it weighed like a crown with all of its aching heat. "I wonder how it'd feel with fur," I mused, before turning my gaze back to the office's doorway. I... couldn't distract myself for long. All that research I had done, the pep talk with my friends, they made it very clear: the first visit was the worst of them all. But like anything good and necessary, it still felt larger than it was. I could feel myself take a step back for just a moment. And then I stopped. The words of the kind man from before, and his quiet push to bring me to this place, they rang in my head as a gentle bell. Thoughts of her returned to my mind - my hands unconsciously went over my heart, head rolled to the side. I started to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. The door gave way to a refreshing reprieve an an audience of chairs. "Barely anyone else here... suppose it *is* a work day." The few merits of unemployment aside, it did make me feel still ever so uneasy. I couldn't help it! And it wasn't just fear either. Looking to my side, I saw the wounds upon the wall, infamously left by one of the most notable patients. Those pictures were how I knew this place even existed, and now here I was caught in the wake of it all. I passed the healing plaster patch and shuffled towards the counter. A slight woman greeted me with a smile. "How can I help you?" "I'm here for... um, I think his name was Herian?" "Oh, Dr. Herian. Did you schedule a visit?" "Yes. Uh, it's under-" "Here it is. Miss Wild?" Her pleasant smile set me at ease. I simply gave a nod. "Just sit down, it won't take any time." I sat down. Names, are a tricky thing during transition. You're constantly confronted by them throughout the process. Modern society asks you what you are through your name, but what if you don't know? What if you wished you didn't need one? Right now, my appearance didn't speak for itself but already so many people just called me the truth: "Fox". It wasn't a name, but it was me. I'd gone through earlier versions; Wild was just a nickname that I enjoyed better than the one I buried states away. And maybe this one would meet the same fate. Her voice flittered upon the air. I knew the routine, and followed my part. If the front door was merely daunting, though, the door of Dr. Herian's was something *else*. Not by the door's fault. It was entirely the man inside responsible. A man no younger than 40 sat behind a heavy desk bolted to the floor gazed right through me as I came through, his gaze shielded by thick spectacles. Only wisps of hair decorated his scalp with a bush rounding the rest and sitting over his lips. Theodore Herian was the stern face of the entire program, a genius amongst his field and a veritable boogeyman to the community. Wordlessly I sat before him in the tiny chair provided, shuffling to cut a smaller figure. "Miss..." his eyes glanced at the file before him, "Wild. According to my schedule, you're here on behalf of the Humanity Removal Therapy?" "Correct." "Mh. I see. Specifically.... ah, right. Kitsune, which involves a variant of vulpinestin. We do have the medication-" Here it comes. "-but have you been living as a fox for years, now?" "For as long as I knew what thought was." "Yes sir. I've been presenting as a fox publicly for a while now, both online and in person." Physical visits were so much more stressful than the online consultations my first transition brought with it. And the questions he asked, I felt as if he was investigating the fiber of my being. Pouring water upon glass to find any sign of the slightest crack. "To be clear, what you're asking for-"

"Practically begging for." "-is the kitsune type, not the standard North American Red Fox. This comes with more than just tails. Even more so than other HRT medications, the kitsune comes with notable side effects. Illusions, fire, s..." The voice filtered out. I knew what I was getting into, and I knew to some they'd misinterpret why. 'That I just wanted the powers' or 'it'd be okay if you were just a fox'. I might be a vixen, a creature of cunning and sneering grins - but I wasn't some kind of plotting mastermind! My fingers pinched the sweatpants I came by today in with frustration twisting under the skin. The irritation ran like wax, my mouth pulled into the faint signs of an oncoming sneer. I would be a beautiful vixen even if it killed me. Not for any reason other than to ring in a new spring. "I'll do this. I'm right here. It's almost the-" "MISS. Wild.... Good. You're back. Did you hear what I said?" I gave a flustered nod, which he responded with an exasperated sigh. "Then, I would like to be the first to thank you for coming here, and to let you know - you may pick up your medication at your chosen pharmacy." He handed over a pamphlet that felt as precious as gold in my fingers. For moments, I was on autopilot. Step Step Step Step At some point I recall bidding a polite farewell to the receptionist? But my mind was a buzzing hurricane of thoughts, a whirl of actions. Petals honey gold silk cars sirens light heat skin sweat lock key ho-! My door clicked behind me, the vacancy greeting me warmly. The bag crumpled underneath my fingers. And when I heard that rattle? The light kissing the bottle and coming out changed as an amber gold nectar that seeped into the floor? I wept, and delighted sounds of a fox escaped my throat. Kitsune HRT: Week 1 OH MY GODS OH MY GODS I HAVE THE MEDICINE, AAAAAA -No changes yet. First pills, but so stoked. -Gods I felt I was going to die in that office. -Thank the fucks I do not have oh HELLS. -....I hope I end up fluffy

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[cosmictyto]

💛⚔️ Villain Ambrosius AU - Tarnished Gold ⚔️🖤

I’ve listened to Will Wood’s “Vampire Culture” one too many times while stuck in the Nimona hyperfixation pit + after seeing some villain Amb fanart floating around, so enjoy these sloppy, partially finished mad ramblings edited/stylized a bit to (try and) make them a little more interesting to read. Also, you're all more than welcome to add on/ask any questions! I'll get to them when I can.

Just a heads up, this is looooong. Simply because ya girl’s a wordy bitch.

Basically, the point of this AU can be boiled down to “What if Ambrosius knew Ballister was innocent AND Nimona got to him first?” Kinda a role swap, but kinda its own thing at the same time? Idfk.

On the night of the knighting ceremony, as they’re both suiting up, Ballister verbally mentions his sword feeling off to Ambrosius. But neither of them have time to investigate that further.

The knighting ceremony goes just as horribly as it did in the movie. The queen is dead, Ballister’s lost his arm, and though they couldn’t exactly find Ballister’s body, he’s presumed dead. Lambasted as a traitor to the kingdom, but also treated as a sort of boogeyman since no one REALLY knows if he’s dead in that "I heard he's dead!" "Well, I heard he's still alive!" kind of way.

Ambrosius, meanwhile, is left completely crushed. Simultaneously being praised by some for “disarming the traitor” and mocked by others for being so close to that same traitor. For not recognizing the signs earlier. For not stopping him before their queen was killed. And though the Director reassures him that he’s done well as Gloreth’s descendant and that this will all fade as nothing more than a bad memory… he knows. Ballister didn’t do it. He KNEW something was wrong with his sword. And deep down he knew that his boyfriend was innocent. So he confronts the squire, sees the footage, and leaves with his whole world rocked.

Needless to say, the proof of ACTUAL INTENTIONAL regicide, treason, and corruption within the system, the same one he’s a literal living symbol of, isn’t on his mind at the moment. Just what he did to Bal. So full of regret and guilt. (At best, he mutilated the love of his life out of instinct which is still horrible!!) Normally when he wanted time alone to think he’d go to the top of the Glorodome. But, that spot hurt too much right now. That's where he and Bal first became friends. So, that same night, he went to the next-best place, Gloreth’s statue.

It’s late at night (he hasn’t been able to sleep much lately anyway,) and he’s sitting at the edge of that massive golden sword. Legs dangling as he stares at the ground. He’s normally not much of a drinker, usually too risky. But tonight he makes an exception. Before, everything felt manageable. The inherent weight he bore being Gloreth’s descendant, the press and citizenry looking up to him to be this bastion of goodness and pure heroism, internal familial pressures over how he should act, look, and think… with Bal at his back, he could handle it. But that stability’s gone now. And the only other person he could possibly lean on, the Director, was responsible for his lover’s death. Now, more than ever, he feels like he’s on the verge of collapsing under the weight this kingdom’s placed on his shoulders…

And then someone happens to come along.

Even despite everything, despite all the hurt this one person’s been responsible for… Nimona still carries fondness for Gloreth. And some nights, when she can’t sleep and she feels like howling at the moon, she’ll go to her old friend’s statue… tonight was one of those nights. And who does she happen to find? Her great-great-great-great… however many more, great grandkid. And he’s not looking too hot. A part of her knows she’s got no real obligation to help him, she's never talked to any of the Golden-groin brats before. But... she's had plenty of moments where she wished she had someone talk her down from doing something stupid, and she's feeling kinda sentimental n' sappy... so she strikes up a conversation.

He’s (reasonably) startled by this teen who just showed up out of nowhere. On a statue that requires a hoverbike to get to, no less. But he’s also drunk enough that he’s not as concerned as he maybe should be. One thing leads to another, and he just lets loose. Like, completely vents everything stored in him. (And, yes, “Arm chopping is not a love language!!!” Is thrown in there.)

Nims is just kinda in shock. In all those stupid commercials and interviews he seems so calm and put-together. Perfect, even. But, he's actually kind of a wreck. And now he’s unraveling real fast and is a bit too wobbly to be up this high- So she talks him down a bit. Calms him. Eventually asks, “If you never had any of this stupid “Gloreth” stuff pushed on you, who would you be? What’d you want to do?”

That legitimately stumps and breaks him. He’s thought about how nice it’d be to have this pressure off of his back. Where he could be his own person and not “the descendant of Gloreth.” But he never ONCE considered what a world like that would really look like. All he’s ever known was THIS. Being a knight, being a symbol and not a real person… there’s really only one thing he could actually say.

“Um… My hair wouldn’t be blond..? Y’know, it’s funny, this isn’t even my natural color. They make me bleach it so that I… that I can look more like her…”

And it’s at that point that Nimona decides right then and there, if she couldn’t get the kingdom to change its mind, she’ll at least get through to Gloreth's heir. Break at least one cycle. (And totally not because she feels the teensiest bit regretful he's been put in this position, naaah, nothing like that.~) She coaxes him down from that statue, and the two of them proceed to do nothing but get into mischief…

“~Blood… didn’t they want your blood? So why apologize for being blue and cold?~”

Specifically, the kind that you don’t remember until well after you wake up. All Ambrosius knows is that he’s in some strange dim dreary place and someone’s cooking something. Oh, it’s just Bal. He usually handles any meals since he doesn’t burn them like he does… but, as he’s snuggling back into the couch, he realizes there’s the sound of a girl humming? What? He sits up. Aaaand she’s there? The girl from the statue? He tries to blow some of his unkempt hair out of his face, and-... he freezes. Grabs his phone, ignores the many, many missed calls and news notifications, opens his camera app, and… black. His hair is black. Why is it black?! It’s not supposed to be-! He NEEDS to be blond! And-!

“Mornin’, sleeping beauty!~ Not gonna lie, never knew a fancy-pants knight like yourself could cut loose like that... Hm? Oh! Right, the hair! You were telling me all about how much you hated bleaching it last night. Sooo, we dyed it! Eventually, you can cut all the dyed stuff off and just leave it your real color if you want. But, for now? Bye-bye, blondie! Like it?~”

No. No he does not. He’s basically having an anxiety attack over the unsanctioned change. Then he gets a notification on his phone and starts reading the news articles. All about HIM, a “mystery girl,” and several animals going wild throughout the kingdom.

“Dude, chill. What’s done is done. We got a little crazy, you saw some pink elephants, and we dyed your hair. So what?”

“So what?! What do you MEAN “So what?!?” I’m a DESCENDANT of GLORETH! I-I can’t be doing things like that! Or be seen like this, or-!”

“Woah WOAH! Hey, look at me. Breathe. You wanna really know why you asked me to dye your hair? YOU said it was so you could be free."

“Free..?”

“Yeah! From now on? You don’t have to live by their stupid rules and expectations. You don't have to be like her, you can be YOU! You can do whatever the hell you want, whenever you want! Wanna change your name? Do it! Wanna go break stuff? Hell yeah! Want a piercing or tattoo? I can give you some. I know how! You wanna make those bastards pay for what they did to you and your boyfriend? I'm more than happy bring the matches and help you burn that bitch to the ground!~"

From that point, things just click. His whole life, the Director… no, the whole INSTITUTE forged him into nothing more than a gilded sword. One that they turned on the person he loved most. The ONE thing in his life that he chose and stuck by… and the system he was supposed to symbolize MADE him kill the love of his life… and he didn’t have to play by their rules anymore. Thus starting his fall into "Villainy."

“~Blood, didn’t they want your blood? So don’t apologize for being blue and cold…~”

Slight time skip!~

Truth was? Ballister was still alive. Heavily wounded, dazed and confused at how everything went so wrong, but alive...

Ballister's story continues as it did in the movie. Months later after the knighting, he's being hunted by the law with Sir Thoddeus Sureblade as the captain of the guard. In the meantime, he's built himself an arm and is still aiming to prove his innocence... Except his attempts to find Ambrosius, or convince the Director that he was set up, are a complete failure. Like in the movie, he's arrested and thrown in the dungeon... Except with no one to break him out. According to whispered gossip from the guards who bring him food, Ambrosius has been missing for a while, now. A fact that would not be revealed to the public anytime soon...

"It's only culture! It's only CULTURE!! It's only- Culture's not your friend..!"

At least, not until an individual in scuffed black-and-rose-gold colored armor (?) shows up with... a bear, or a tiger, and a wolf, and horse, and... even a rhinoceros?! The two of them running through the halls. Breaking things, lighting stuff on fire, and spraying paint on the walls (along with the floor, ceiling, and any statues,) and scrapping with any knights they come across. They'd already uploaded that clip of the Director swapping those swords. This? This was a diversion to keep the Institute from possibly removing or censoring that clip before the public got to see it. And Ambrosius LOVED it! He got to be loud! To make a mess! He finally got to punch Todd in his stupid dude-bro face! When you've kept someone shackled their whole lives, and then take those harnesses and leashes off? The freedom's enough to make ‘em go a just a teensy bit crazy. More than anything, since everything that happened the night of their knighting? He felt alive.

"Hey, fuck your culture! I ain't got no culture! It's only culture and it's more afraid of you than you're of it!"

During the assault, just as things are starting to get dicey for Nims and Brose, they do something so that the power ends up cutting out. Freeing Ballister and giving him his chance to escape, and... for a moment Ballister sees him. His Rose, ebony-haired with cuffs and studs on his ears. Riding on the unsaddled back of a raspberry-pink horse. A can of neon spray-paint in one hand, a sword in the other, a whole squad of knights behind him… and for a moment they lock eyes. Ambrosius’ world just comes crashing down, trying to stop and turn Nims around (Who refuses. ‘Cause, y’know, the bunch of knights behind them?!) she shifts into an ostrich to get a boost of speed, and the two just ride off with Ambrosius staring wide-eyed… looking like he saw a ghost… meanwhile, Ballister’s wondering just what the hell’d happened since the ceremony, and just -what- his boyfriend’s been hanging out with.

From this point my plot-related notes are thinner/less thought out. But here they are anyway:

- Ballister’s still firmly stuck in the Institute’s brainwashing since he’s had absolutely no time hanging out with Nimona to influence that. He’s seen the footage, but still believes that the fault solely lies with the Director specifically. That the Institute as a concept can still be preserved. A part of him hopes that by capturing this pink monster he might be able to redeem himself in the eyes of the kingdom. Prove his loyalty as a knight. (And conveniently finally meet with his boyfriend who’s apparently lost his damn mind?! Or... or has been corrupted by this thing?) So, while on the run from Todd and the other knights, he’s also trying to track down Ambrosius + Nimona and stop them from inciting a rebellion. Because all he knows is that this isn’t the man he fell in love with. (I won't lie, the Ballister side of things feels pretty shaky. I need more time to sit and stew on it.)

- If we’re using D&D alignment charts as a reference, Ambrosius is basically going from lawful-good to chaotic-good. Identity crisis and shift to anarchy aside, he genuinely doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Especially not the general populous. Yes, he happened to be raised to be a “hero of the realm” but, at his core, he’s still a good guy. Any acts of arson, destruction, or anything of the like are done with the knowledge that the spaces have been cleared out as best they can, first. And he doesn't even want to kill his fellow knights because he knows that, ultimately? They've all been forced through the same system. Children thrown into a mold to be forged into weapons. He’ll fight them. But, he doesn’t fight to kill… that being said, he doesn’t necessarily stray from violence, either.

- At some point I do see Ballister and Ambrosius getting into a fight. But, of course, Ballister’s the top of their class. No matter how hard they both sparred or competed against each other, Bal’d always managed to come out on top. In everything. So Rose is, of course, disarmed and thrown to the ground. A sword pointed at him as he looks up at the man he loves-.

“What, do you think this is some kind of a game?! You and that… that thing are tearing this kingdom apart! I… I don’t even recognize you anymore… what happened, Ambrosius?!”

“What happened? She set me free, Bal. And if you can’t see that this is who I really am, deep down..? Then you never really knew me at all…”

More miscellaneous/fun notes:

- It’s less boss/henchman in this AU. Instead, Rose and Nims 100% have a brother/sister dynamic. They bicker and tease when they’re together. But, the moment the other’s in trouble, it’s strict “No one messes with ‘em except me!” vibes. Who’s the older and who’s the younger sibling changes depending on the moment.

- Ambrosius always liked rock music. His parents and the Director always disapproved because it was “noise unbefitting of a Goldenloin” (ie. It wasn’t classical or opera therefore it was “wrong.”) but he always listened to it in private or with Ballister. So when Nims played some stuff and she caught Rose singing along to all the words? That earned instant respect points for him.

- These two also share one braincell between them at any given time. How they haven’t gotten caught is a damn miracle. Like, seriously, these two are goofballs. The moment he saw Nimona change into a shark? Oh, he totally stuck his head in her mouth. He never thought once about how “the wings” would be too noticeable. And when Nims brought up the plan to wreck the Institute? Eloquently putting it as: “We break-in, we break some stuff, smash some helmets, something-something-something, we win!~” He could only reply with a nod and, “Alright, sounds good!” And when they're playing a board game and she's going on some tangent? He's laughing his ass off. The only other person he's been this dorky around was Ballister.

- Once it clicked that he could swear?! And no one would get mad at him or clutch some pearls?! Nimona had to give him a crash-course because he was using it a bit too much. And it just kinda sounded ridiculous. Like giving a tween free rein to swear.

- He also went more crazy with his appearance. He was already used to the idea of makeup (Gloreth forbid her ancestors ever had *gasp* acne!!!) Eyes? Lined and smokey. Often with dark or fun colors. Nails? Painted. 24/7. Fingers adorned with a buncha rings. Lots of layered necklaces and bracelets. Plus silky black shirts with low necklines. And he did get his ears pierced. Both lobes, a couple in the helix of one ear, and one on an eyebrow. All of which was done courtesy of Nimona. (Needless to say, Ballister was shook the first time he got a good look at him.)

- He is still a Ballister Simp. Always gonna be his number one fan. At first, he tried to convince Ballister to join him and Nimona, but Bal wouldn’t listen. Their relationship doesn’t start to fracture until Ballister starts actively hunting them both down for the sake of capturing her. Because, while Ambrosius adores Ballister, and wants nothing more than to be with him… Nimona’s been the only one to help him see the truth. To help free him of all his expectations, she’s been there when he was at his lowest. She’s his friend. And he’s not willing to sacrifice her just so that he can go back to being the “Descendant of Gloreth” with Ballister. So, though it hurts, he still loves Bal. But he’s always waiting for the moment his lover admits he’s wrong about this.

- Speaking of Nimona’s and Ambrosius’ friendship… she’s in an awkward spot. Because, especially now with all those prissy-noble-layers stripped away… she sees so much of Gloreth in Ambrosius. In his smile, how confident every step is, that glimmer in his eye when he’s about to do something rebellious, even the way his eyes crinkle and his lips get tight when he’s mad. In so many ways he’s absolutely his own person… but it’s like she got her best friend back. And maybe that’s why she stayed and talked with him. Because she saw a chance to try again…

(Psst, you seriously read this far down? Thanks a ton! Have a cookie.~ 🍪 )

[solsays]

So more lore has been dropped thanks to Martyn on stream the other day. He said that nobody except Grian is a watcher, and Grian left them. According to Martyn, Grian left the watchers after 3rd life.

What if he was instructed to do the games. He was told to orchestrate this death game for all of the people he cared about, and his response was no. So they forced him to play the game himself, which only made him bond more with those he was only meant to watch. And when he won 3rd life, he was so distraught over being forced by everyone, especially the watchers, to kill his partner instead of both of them winning, that when he returned to the watchers he refused to help them again. He left. But they still are controlling everything, and now there is no voice for the players among them, and that’s why they pushed Grian and Scar together again in DL, was because they essentially were saying “look at him. This is what you traded us for. Now you have no choice but to be with him again, to remind you of your decision” and Grian did not want to appease the watchers and he wanted to keep Scar out of it, so he went to BigB.

Someone who knows about the watchers. Someone who was on EvoSMP. Someone who understood.

I believe that he still has his powers (as shown by boogeyman rolling and time dealing) and is by all means of technicality still a watcher, but he does not agree with the watchers and what they are doing. They feed off negative emotions, and he does not agree with that. He is essentially just acting as an independent player who happens to be a watcher right now. Martyn also mentioned a group called “Speakers” but no further info was given on that subject. I’m fairly sure he also said there are no canonical listeners in the series. Jimmy was also asked “Jimmy do you think they are still watching” in a stream, and he was at first confused “what do you mean?” but then realized what the fan was asking and replied “oh…you mean the watchers?”, so Jimmy knows that they control the series, he knows they are watching them. I think BigB, Pearl, Grian, Martyn, and Timmy all know that the watchers are pulling the strings, and they choose to either acknowledge it (Martyn) not confirm anything (Grian & Timmy) or just not mention it (Pearl & BigB).

TL; DR: Martyn said Grian left the watchers after 3rd life, but I think he is still a watcher, just acting independently.