#I feel like this could be expanded into something

[liprairian]

So, I see in the notes that this has been said, but cozy mysteries were the first genre to have the "cozy" appended, quite a long time before the "cozy fantasy" thing got big. That said, I hope you don't mind if I expand a bit on that - I'd never actually consciously reflected on this and it was a lot of fun!

The cozy murder mystery genre has a ton of parallels to the Regency romance genre. Others have said the cozy murder mystery genre has been around since Agatha Christie - I haven't independently corroborated this, but I'm going by it anyway. It's been around at least for the literal half of my life (I realized today) that I've been working in libraries, at any rate. The parallel author there would be Georgette Heyer, who invented the Regency romance as we know it.

Since their inventions, these genres have crystallized into extremely recognizable tropes and forms. The original authors were prolific enough that you could fairly easily identify formulas for their work, and those formulas are by and large respected as foundational to the genre. The titles and covers are distinctive but the same - candy colours and punny titles for cozy mysteries, rank-dropping and dubious period dress for Regency romances.

Cozy fantasy owes a lot to cozy mystery as a genre - cozy mystery established a lot of the elements that get touted as staples of cozy fantasy, like the warm cast of fun side characters and the relatively low stakes for the protagonist. (For the protagonist! Everyone else can go hang - but often in, say, crime mystery, the stakes are much higher for the protagonist as well). Legends and Lattes, in particular, feels like a specific callback to the cozy mystery genre, from its punny title to its ultra-specific setting (I can think of at least two long and popular series of cozy mysteries set in coffee/tea shops off the top of my head).

It's been really interesting seeing which aspects of this established genre get usurped into the "cozy" prefix - particularly the ones that are more marketing than literary, like the punny titles. Personally I view it a bit like, oh, cladistics in biology maybe, where the reasons something is considered a 'dinosaur' have more to do with specific characteristics they share with their ancestors than with any ideas the rest of us have when thinking about what a dinosaur is. I'm fascinated to see where things shake out long-term re: what bits a book needs to have to be considered "cozy".

Help why are we sincerely throwing “cozy” in front of everything? “Cozy murder mystery” okay what’s next cozy international heist? Cozy body horror? Cozy psychological thriller? “Haven’t you always wanted a Stephen King book where they drink tea and knit sweaters and grow parsnips?” Someone is dead Rebecca. “It’s about a young detective trying to solve the disappearance of his neighbor’s evicerator in the alps.” Fucking free me.

[misshoneyimhome]

Could you do a oneshot of willy where you are rasmus' sister and like you are just as close with willy as you are your brother and hes always looked out for you as he would sandy, and maybe a player from another team tries to make a move on you and you get uncomfortable and he steps in and is like back off my girl bro, and then it's like a aha my girl that's so funny could never be true tho right? RIGHT?!?! and they lived happily ever after in love 🤪😘

Haha, I definitely had way too much fun writing this one 😂 I absolutely loved the idea, and honestly—even if it’s not my best work—I don’t even care because I enjoyed every second of it 🤭

So let’s just dive right in, shall we? 😉 Hope you enjoy it, love 💕

Tropes & warnings: William Nylander x reader, Rasmus Sandin's sister - friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, soft!willy & ofc protective!Willy, mention of sexual intercourse, language

Words count: 4.4K

My Girl I William Nylander (ft. Rasmus Sandin) ✐

Rasmus Sandin was everything you loved and hated in equal measure.

Your brother, your rival, your favourite punching bag and your fiercest protector—all rolled into one maddening, irreplaceable person. Two years older, and he never let you forget it. Growing up, everything was a competition: who could sprint fastest through the snow, who could score more goals in the driveway, who could get under Mum’s skin quicker.

You fought over stupid things and made up just as fast. You stole his hoodies and he changed your phone background to the worst selfies imaginable. But the moment someone else tried to mess with you? Rasmus was there. No hesitation. No questions asked. He’d step in with that fire in his eyes like don’t you dare touch what’s mine.

He was your safe place before you even knew what one was.

And as you both got older, his world started expanding—and so did yours.

When Rasmus was drafted to the Leafs in 2018, everything changed. He wasn’t just your annoying older brother anymore—he was playing pro hockey in Toronto. By the time the 2019��2020 season rolled around, he was wearing blue and white for real, living in a downtown apartment he shared with none other than William Nylander.

That’s when you met him properly.

William wasn’t just the funny guy from Rasmus’ training camp stories anymore. He was there. The quiet one with the sharp eyes and even sharper sense of humour. He had the charm, sure—but not the kind that made you feel small or like a joke. William was the type to ask how you were really doing, to remember the answer the next time you saw him.

At first, you figured he was just being polite. Friendly. You were Rasmus’ sister, after all. That came with certain unspoken rules.

But then he kept asking if you’d be at the games. If you were coming to team dinners. If you wanted to hang out after practice. He started texting you out of the blue—sending you memes, TikToks, photos of Rasmus doing something dumb at home. Little things. But they added up.

You didn’t live in Toronto, but you spent a lot of time there during that first season. And the more time you spent around William, the harder it became to tell where friendship ended and something else quietly began.

Rasmus never questioned it. He’d known William since 2016, long before he was a Leaf. He trusted him completely. To him, William’s attentiveness was just typical Willy—loyal to a fault, always looking after his people.

You were part of those people now. That was all.

But to you, William started becoming more than just part of Rasmus’ world.

He became yours too.

And you tried—God, you tried—not to read into it. Not to hope for something more. You told yourself over and over that he only saw you as Rasmus’ sister. That he was kind to everyone. That he was just being nice.

But it got harder to believe that when he made sure your coffee order was already waiting in the car after morning skate.

When he pulled you aside at team events because he could tell you were overwhelmed.

When he watched you laugh across a crowded room like he couldn’t look away.

One night during the second season—early on, when you were still trying to prove you could hang in the Toronto scene—Rasmus had invited you out for drinks with the team. You didn’t want to be the little sister clinging to the edges of the group, so you drank more than you should’ve. Tried too hard to keep up with guys who were built like machines and used to the lifestyle.

By the time you stepped outside, the city lights were spinning, and the sidewalk didn’t feel quite steady beneath your feet.

“Hey,” a voice said, gentle but firm. “You good?”

You blinked up at William, dazed. “I think the tequila won.”

He smiled, just a little, and offered his arm. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the apartment.”

You vaguely remembered leaning on him in the Uber. Him helping you out of your shoes. A glass of water pressed into your hands. William sitting beside you on the couch until you fell asleep.

When you woke up the next morning, head pounding and cheeks flushed with embarrassment, you found a glass of juice, two Advil  on the coffee table, and a text message. 

Don’t try to outdrink NHL players. We’re trained for this. —W

Your heart thudded for reasons that had nothing to do with the hangover.

From that day on, things between you shifted. Slowly, quietly, without ever being said out loud.

William became your best friend in Toronto—second only to Rasmus. Someone you could talk to about anything. The kind of friend who noticed when your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. The one you could sit in total silence with and still feel seen.

You helped him through the ups and downs of his relationship, offered advice you pretended didn’t sting to give. You held back your feelings with both hands because friendship was better than nothing. And because you were scared that crossing that line might ruin everything.

You were good at ignoring the ache. At pretending.

But William?

William had always been harder to read.

And sometimes—just sometimes—you wondered if he was pretending, too.

_

Now, a few years later, things looked a little different.

Rasmus had been traded to Washington a couple of seasons ago. He’d adjusted quickly—new team, new city, new phase of his career—but you knew there was still a piece of him that missed Toronto. The friendships he’d built here, the sense of home. William.

You came with him this time. It was your tradition, sort of. When the Capitals played in Toronto, you flew in to support him. You weren’t staying long, just a long weekend, but it felt like coming back to something familiar.

Rasmus had warned you the Leafs were on a hot streak—“don’t get your hopes up,” he muttered as you zipped up your jacket before heading to Scotiabank Arena. And sure enough, the Leafs pulled off a win.

Still, it was a good night. You hugged your brother after the game, stole one of his hoodies like old times, and stood in the hallway near the players’ lounge catching up with William, who’d already loosened his tie and had that flushed, post-game glow.

“You staying for the Sens game tomorrow?” he asked, tipping his chin toward you as he leaned against the wall, still catching his breath from the ice.

“Thinking about it,” you replied, smiling. “Unless you think I’ll jinx you again.”

He grinned, eyes flicking over your face. “You can jinx me anytime you want.”

You blinked. He said it like a joke. He always said things like that like a joke.

Except tonight… it didn’t feel like one.

You ended up staying.

The next night, the Leafs lost to Ottawa in overtime. William was annoyed, not outwardly, but you could tell. He had that subtle edge to him—quieter, more withdrawn. Still, when someone suggested going out for a few drinks, he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, glancing at you. “Let’s go.”

You weren’t even sure what felt different about the night—just that it was. The atmosphere was looser. Everyone seemed a little more grown-up, less reckless than they’d been in those early Toronto days.

You weren’t Rasmus’ teenage sister anymore, either.

You felt good tonight—comfortable in your skin, confident in a way you hadn’t always been around the team. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think twice when someone from the Senators’ roster slid into your space by the bar.

He was charming at first. Too charming. Smiling a little too wide, talking a little too close. You tried to laugh it off. To shift away. To politely decline.

But he didn’t take the hint.

“You sure about that?” he said, tilting his head. “Because I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

“I haven’t been looking at you,” you said calmly. “And I’ve already said no.”

“C’mon, just one drink—”

“Sorry,” a voice cut in, low and measured, “but my girl said no.”

You froze.

The tone was calm, sure, but it was laced with something unfamiliar—something sharp, protective, and entirely unshakable.

You turned toward the voice, pulse quickening.

William stood behind you, hands at his sides, posture relaxed in that effortlessly cool way he always carried himself. But his eyes—those were different. Steady. Cold. Focused entirely on the man standing a little too close to you.

The Senator—some third-line winger with a smug smirk—raised his brows, looking between you and William with amused detachment.

“Didn’t realise she was taken.”

William’s jaw flexed. “She is.” He didn’t blink. “By me.”

The guy gave a snort, clearly not taking any of it seriously, and backed off with a casual shrug, disappearing into the crowd with his drink and his ego intact.

But you stood there, frozen, as the weight of William’s words hung thick in the air between you.

My girl.

You blinked at him. “By you?”

William’s eyes softened when they met yours, but there was no trace of hesitation in them. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “By me.”

Your stomach flipped. It was like everything you’d tried to suppress—every late-night text, every subtle glance, every shoulder brush and shared silence—had suddenly broken through the surface.

“Is that… new?” you asked, your voice barely audible over the hum of music and laughter around you.

He gave you a small smile. The kind he only gave when it was just you and him and no one else watching. “I don’t think so.”

You stood there for a second, still rooted to the spot, processing the words. The way he said them so calmly, like it wasn’t something monumental. Like it hadn’t just shaken the foundation of everything you thought was settled between you.

You let out a slow breath. “So, what now?”

William glanced around the bar, then looked back at you, tucking one hand gently into the pocket of his jacket. “We could stay and pretend like nothing happened.”

You arched a brow. “You think I could actually do that?”

He smiled again, a little more mischievous this time. “Didn’t think so.”

You laughed—nervous, but real. Then, without another word, he reached for your hand. Not forcefully. Not dramatically. Just… casually. Like he’d done it a hundred times before.

You let him.

You didn’t say anything as he laced his fingers through yours and gave a light tug, leading you through the bar. Past the crowd, past the flashing lights, past your brother, who—thankfully—hadn’t witnessed any of that.

The moment the door shut behind you, the cold night air hit your cheeks, sharp and sobering. But you didn’t feel unsteady. Not this time.

William stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, turning to face you.

His hand was still in yours.

“I didn’t plan on saying anything tonight,” he admitted, voice low, almost lost to the sounds of traffic in the distance. “But when I saw him not backing off…”

Your heart thudded. “You didn’t like it.”

“I didn’t like how he made you look,” William said, eyes searching yours. “Like you wanted to disappear. And I’ve never seen you look like that.”

You swallowed hard. “And calling me your girl…?”

“Felt right,” he said simply. “Did it feel wrong to you?”

“No,” you whispered.

And then he stepped closer. Not hesitating. Not unsure. He reached up, his knuckles brushing your cheek, his touch featherlight.

“I should’ve said something sooner.”

You leaned in without even realising you were doing it. “Yeah,” you murmured. “You should’ve.”

His lips twitched. “You mad?”

“I’ll let you make it up to me.”

William grinned. “Deal.”

Then he kissed you.

Soft at first. Like he didn’t want to spook you. Like he was making sure you had every chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

You leaned into him, hands curling in his jacket, heart pounding as the kiss deepened—not desperate, but certain. Years of stolen glances and unsaid words finally blooming into something real.

When you broke apart, his forehead rested against yours, both of you a little breathless.

“Rasmus is going to lose his shit,” you said.

William chuckled. “He’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

He kissed your cheek. “Not even a little.”

You laughed, and he squeezed your hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

And as he led you down the sidewalk, the world suddenly felt a little quieter. A little steadier. Like you’d finally found your place.

Right next to him.

The condo was still and quiet when you walked in, save for the faint hum of the city outside the windows. William locked the door behind you, tossing his keys into the dish by the entrance with a soft clink.

Neither of you said much.

You slipped off your coat, your fingertips tingling with anticipation. He hung his up beside yours, then turned to face you—and for a second, neither of you moved.

It wasn’t awkward. It was charged.

Years of friendship, of toeing the line, of pretending—all of it—sat in the small space between your bodies, crackling like static.

William stepped toward you slowly, like he didn’t want to rush this. Like he already knew this moment was going to live in his memory for a long, long time.

“You okay?” he asked softly, voice thick with emotion.

You nodded. “Are you?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

That’s when you closed the distance, your hands finding the hem of his shirt as your mouth found his again—more sure, more urgent now. He responded instantly, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies met in the middle.

You could feel his heartbeat under your palms, fast and steady.

“Do you know,” you whispered between kisses, “how long I’ve wanted this?”

William pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Probably not as long as I have.”

You smiled, breathless, as he guided you through the living room toward the bedroom, pausing only to press his lips to yours again, and again—like he couldn’t quite believe this was real. Like he was making up for lost time.

The moment you stepped into his room, it felt natural. Familiar. Like you’d already been there a hundred times—but this time was different.

He helped you out of your sweater, fingers brushing lightly across your arms, his touch reverent. When you reached for the buttons on his shirt, he stilled your hands with his own.

“Hey,” he said, voice low. “We don’t have to rush this. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

You looked up at him, heart full. “I want to. With you.”

That was all he needed.

The rest of your clothes fell away slowly, not in a blur but in a sequence of soft, deliberate touches—every movement quiet, careful, like unwrapping something fragile. His mouth traced every inch of your skin like he was learning it from scratch, like he’d waited so long he didn’t want to miss a single detail.

There was no performance. No pressure.

Just warmth. Soft laughter between kisses. Foreheads pressed together. Gasps shared under tangled sheets and whispered promises exchanged with fingertips on bare skin.

At one point, William paused, his thumb brushing along your jaw. “You still good?” he murmured.

You nodded, whispering his name, and pulled him back in.

It wasn’t just sex.

It was a culmination. A release. A confession you’d both been too scared to voice until now. You moved in sync, every shift and sigh answering a question that had hung between you for years.

Afterward, you lay there with your head on his chest, his fingers drawing slow circles across your spine, the silence no longer heavy but full.

“Okay,” you said after a long stretch of quiet. “That was…”

He glanced down. “Yeah?”

You tilted your chin, meeting his gaze. “Really damn worth the wait.”

William grinned, kissed your forehead, and pulled you a little closer. “Told you I’d make it up to you.”

_

The morning light filtered in through the curtains, soft and golden, warming the space between tangled sheets and quiet breathing. You stirred against the familiar rhythm of William’s chest rising and falling beneath your cheek, your limbs still lazily draped across his.

It was peaceful. Cosy. Your entire body was sore in the best way, and your mind floated somewhere between sleep and satisfaction.

William shifted slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Mornin’,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.

You hummed, eyes still closed. “If this is a dream, I’m suing someone when I wake up.”

He chuckled, low and warm. “You’re very real. Trust me.”

You were just about to kiss him again—slow and soft, like it was the only thing that mattered—when the click of the front door echoed through the condo.

William froze. You blinked.

And then came his voice.

“Yo, Willy? You awake? I brought coffee.”

Your entire body locked up. William sat up like someone had electrocuted him.

“Shit.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “RAS?”

William jumped out of bed, grabbing his hoodie and pulling it over his head in a panic. “He wasn’t supposed to come until eleven!”

You grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around yourself like a human burrito. “What do I do?! Where do I go?!”

William looked around the room, wild-eyed. “Uh—closet?”

You stared at him. “I’m not hiding in a closet like this is some bad high school rom-com.”

“Okay, then under the bed?!”

“WILLIAM.”

His eyes darted to the ensuite bathroom. “There. Just—just go in there and lock the door. I’ll distract him.”

You didn’t have time to argue. You grabbed your clothes off the floor, scampered into the bathroom, and softly closed the door just as Rasmus’ voice got louder.

“I swear to God, if you’re still asleep I’m leaving without you,” he called, his footsteps coming closer.

William cracked the bedroom door and stepped out, running a hand through his hair like he could somehow will himself to look casual.

“Hey, man.”

Rasmus frowned. “You just woke up? I texted you twenty minutes ago.”

William forced a yawn and leaned against the doorframe. “Yeah. Long night.”

You sat in the bathroom, clutching your shirt to your chest, trying not to breathe too loudly.

“Is someone here?” Rasmus asked suddenly, peering past William toward the bedroom.

“Nope,” William said way too fast. “Why would someone be here?”

“I heard something. Like… a door close.”

William shrugged. “Window. Wind. I dunno, man.”

There was a beat of silence. Then: “Wait. Is there a girl here?”

William cleared his throat. “Define ‘here.’”

“Oh my god. You do—you hooked up last night?”

You facepalmed.

“Well,” Rasmus continued with a smirk, “good for you, I guess. Wait—do I know her? Who is it? Someone from the bar?”

William looked like he was going to combust. “Dude, don’t worry about it.”

“I am worrying about it,” Rasmus said, crossing his arms. “This is my best friend. In my former apartment. I deserve details.”

Your phone vibrated in your hand with a text from William:

he’s not leaving. SOS. u ok in there??

You typed back with trembling thumbs.

I’m hiding in your damn bathroom with your hoodie and zero dignity.

“Okay, you’re being weird,” Rasmus said. “You’re always weird but now you’re avoidance weird. I’m going in there—”

William panicked. “NO!”

Rasmus froze. “Why not?”

“Because,” William said, his voice cracking slightly, “because I… spilt protein powder everywhere.”

There was a pause.

“William, what the hell is going on—”

The bathroom door opened slowly.

You stepped out in his hoodie, makeup smudged from sleep, bare legs and messy hair giving away everything. You weren’t even sure why you did it. Maybe it was the sheer ridiculousness of hiding like a teenager, or maybe it was the look on William’s face—cornered, panicked, helpless.

Either way, it was too late to turn back now.

Rasmus blinked. His eyes dropped to the hoodie. Then to your face. Then to William.

The silence was deafening.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL F—”

“Okay, okay!” William practically launched himself between you and Rasmus like a human shield. “Just—let’s all take a deep breath.”

“You’ve gotta be joking,” Rasmus said, eyes wide, voice rising. “YOU AND HER? IN YOUR BEDROOM?”

“I mean,” you said weakly, “it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been in his apartment—”

“Not helping,” William muttered.

“How long has this been going on?!” Rasmus demanded, hands flailing. “What happened to bro code? What happened to boundaries? And you—” he pointed at you, “—you’re supposed to tell me when you’re secretly hooking up with my best friend!”

“I wasn’t aware we were scheduling announcements,” you said flatly.

“I lived with you,” Rasmus said to William, still spiralling. “I trusted you. I defended you. I told people you were like a brother!”

William winced. “To be fair, this is kind of your fault. You introduced us.”

“I’m going to pass out.”

“Okay,” William said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Deep breaths. Remember the skating plan? You love skating.”

“You love ruining my life!”

William turned to you quickly, voice low. “I’m gonna get him out of here before he actually combusts. Stay. Chill. I’ll text you.”

You nodded, trying not to laugh as Rasmus muttered what sounded like Swedish curses under his breath and slapped William’s arm away.

“Touch me again and I swear to God I’ll throw your skates in the lake.”

“I love you too, man.”

Within a minute, the front door closed behind them, and the condo fell blissfully silent.

You let out the breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

Your phone buzzed with a message from William.

okay that could’ve gone worse 😅 take your time. shower’s yours. spare key is in the drawer by the sink—just lock up behind you. also, I’m in love with you, in case that wasn’t obvious. ❤️

You smiled, warmth blooming through your chest as you set your phone down and padded toward the bathroom.

Despite everything—despite your brother very nearly imploding this morning—it still felt like the best possible kind of disaster.

And honestly?

You wouldn’t change a thing.

_

It wasn’t until halfway through their friendly skate at the outdoor rink that the other guys started noticing it.

“Okay,” Calle Järnkrok said, gliding up beside Rasmus with his stick resting lazily on his shoulder. “What’s up with you and Willy? Did he forget your birthday or chirp your flow or something?”

Rasmus didn’t look up from retying his skates, jaw clenched like he was one wrong word away from snapping his stick in half.

“Nothing.”

Calle raised a brow. “You sure? ’Cause you’re staring at him like he borrowed your car and returned it without the brakes.”

“He didn’t borrow my car.”

“But he did something?”

Rasmus let out a long, frustrated sigh. “He’s just… being William.”

Calle smirked. “Did ‘being William’ include sleeping with your sister?”

Rasmus choked mid-breath.

“How do you know?!”

Calle laughed. “Bro. You stormed out of his apartment this morning like it was on fire, and he’s been walking around grinning like he just scored the game-winner at the Olympics. Everyone knows.”

Rasmus muttered something in Swedish that Calle wisely chose not to respond to, and skated off with enough force to spray snow halfway down the rink.

You were the last to arrive at dinner.

The group had gathered at your favourite cozy restaurant in Toronto, a mix of Leafs, Caps, and a handful of mutual friends. You spotted Rasmus immediately—arms folded, expression grim, sipping a beer like it personally wronged him—and William beside him, visibly trying not to smirk.

You slid into the seat across from them, offering your brother a cautious smile.

“Hey.”

Rasmus gave you a stiff nod. “Hi.”

A heavy pause settled over the table.

“I like your hoodie,” you added lightly.

“It’s his hoodie,” Rasmus muttered, eyes narrowing at William. “I know it’s his hoodie.”

Calle, seated beside him, let out a bark of laughter. “God, this is better than Netflix.”

Dinner continued mostly without incident—mostly. The food was great, the wine even better, and the table was loud with stories and laughter… all except for Rasmus, who hadn’t smiled once.

When dessert arrived, he set down his fork and cleared his throat.

Everyone quieted instantly.

He looked between you and William, jaw tight, clearly running through whatever speech he’d practiced in his head a dozen times since that morning.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he said, voice serious. “And I’ve come to a conclusion.”

William shifted in his seat. You sat a little straighter.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“I hate it.”

“Ras—”

“No, let me finish,” he cut in, raising a hand. “I hate that I walked into my best friend’s place and found my baby sister creeping out of his bedroom. I hate that I had to process all of that before I’d even had my first coffee. And I hate that you made me experience every protective older brother cliché in one single, horrific morning.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop from smiling.

Then Rasmus turned to William, and the mood shifted ever so slightly.

“But,” he said, quieter now, “I also know you. And I know you care about the people in your life more than most guys in this league. And I know you’d never hurt her.”

William met his eyes. “I wouldn’t.”

“And if you do,” Rasmus added, deadly serious, “I will personally bodycheck you into next season.”

William nodded solemnly. “Fair.”

You blinked. “Wait… is that your way of giving us your blessing?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you implied it.”

“I implied nothing.”

“You implied everything,” Calle said, grinning into his drink. “We all heard it.”

Rasmus rolled his eyes and picked up his beer again. “Whatever. Just don’t make me witness any PDA or I swear I’ll eat dinner in the kitchen.”

You grinned, leaned over, and pressed a kiss to William’s cheek.

Rasmus dropped his fork like it physically pained him. “You’re both dead to me.”

The table erupted with laughter.

But later—when the noise had softened into background chatter, and everyone was leaning back full and happy—you caught your brother watching you and William with something that wasn’t quite a glare.

It was quieter than that. A little weary. A little soft.

Like a surrender.

Like trust.

The kind that only comes from someone who loves you both.

And that was more than enough.

[aka-indulgence]

Intruder

(Dust!Sans x Reader)

Wrote a lil Dust Sans drabble… the scene struck me in the middle of the night and suddenly i was just…. ehe 👉 👈

The premise is your ‘kidnapped and stranded in Nightmare’s castle with all the Bad Sanses’.

Also he’s big Sans because I want him to be :]

Your bedroom is one of the very few safe, personal space you had in this castle. So it was a shock to see those eyelights in the dark; especially those belonging to the one you could never figure out. CW: breaking and entering, minor threats, getting in your bed without permission (non sexual)

—————

You're not sure what woke you up. Maybe you just sensed something was different.

Your eyes flew open with a sudden sense of urgency you couldn't place. You were staring at basketball shorts, and your eyes shot up to the owner.

Dust might be the most strikingly unnerving of all of Nightmare's 'hired hands'. He was the quietest of the group— even more than Horror. You knew Killer was always wearing a facade, an emotionless monster with a good mask that was capricious and unpredictable. But as soon as you see Dust, you know in your soul he was bad news.

Your eyes met his mismatched ones; the blood reds with a striking blue center in his left eyelight. It was always impossible to read him, and the hood hiding the rest of his face made him look like a large, shadowy figure, leaving only his eyes leering down at you. They were so bright in the dark.

You open your mouth.

"don't scream."

He says it all too casually. With a flick of his wrist, a glowing blue bone materialized under his hand, its threatening luminance silencing you before you could even form a thought.

"don't talk. don't make any sudden movements."

You freeze, your thoughts freeze. You couldn't fathom for what reason this, this murderer is doing in your locked room in the middle of the night. What was the point of a locked room in a castle full of teleporting skeletons anyway?

"scooch over. i'm just going to get in your bed."

Haha… what the fuck?

You've been through lots of things since you've been kidnapped to this literal Nightmare realm, where killing was just another Tuesday for its residents. But this might be the most bewildering and frightening thing that's ever happened to you.

Regardless, you do as he says, making room for him. There's audible relief in his breaths when you do. With another flick, the bone fades into nothing and the skeleton lifts your blanket, shuffling into the bed with you.

He's so large and heavy, the bed creaks and bends as he moves under the covers with you, and you feel a quick chill followed by the warmth of his body the closer he is to you. The quick relief from the lack of physical threats was quickly replaced by the absolute terror of having Dust be so close to you. That terror is compounded when he doesn't stop when his elbow touches you and he turns to you.

You've never seen his face so close.

Your eyes are wide, with him unceremoniously wrapping his arms around you, squishing you into his chest and tucks your head under his neck. You're blinking, heart stuck in your throat, his ribcage expanding against your cheek, before he lets out a long, shaky sigh. You didn't notice it until just now how shallow and rapid his breaths had been. Even now there's a slight tremble in his bones and his breathing.

Your cheeks turn pink, feeling the distinct segments in his phalanges as his hands glide behind your back, bunching up your shirt a little above your hips. Whether it was intentional or not, you couldn't tell.

Just when you think you can relax a little, Dust's nasal cavity presses to the crown of your head, and the skeleton takes a ribcage-full of it. You fist your hands in anticipation of… you don't know what, especially when you feel his teeth graze you. Whatever he smells, he likes, because he pushes his arms further around you and gives you another sniff.

You don't realize you're trying to get some space from him when all of a sudden a leg hooks around yours. You stifle your cry, but the smallest of sounds escape you. Dust grits his teeth, and his fingers sink into you, your throat tightening in your attempts to quieten your whines.

There's a growl in his throat. Your heart stops.

…

But nothing happens. He releases his grip on you, a hand drifting up to brush your hair.

"sorry."

Sorry?

"i'm not trying to scare you. you're just… really cute when you make those little noises."

… What?

"I… I don't understand."

You knew all the skeletons liked you in one way or another, despite Nightmare insisting that you're merely a bargaining tool. Horror was both a Teddy and a Bear, a hungry beast who couldn't communicate when he wanted affection. Killer was a loudmouth who made his intentions towards you clear as day, even letting slip his softer feelings from time to time. Nightmare was an enigma, but it was clear he had a fondness for you. Dust… you couldn't tell if Dust liked you, at all. The sudden teleporting behind you, silently stalking around you, the uncaring way he looked down on you. You thought he thought you a nuisance. Or at the most, something fun to poke.

And here he was, practically clinging to you.

"i needed to find you. i was hoping you wouldn't wake up."

… He sounds… genuine. And relaxed. You take the opportunity to ask.

"Is something wrong?"

Dust shifts, so he could see your eyes. You've never seen his look so soft before, a lighter hue than before. With his hood moved, you could see a glimps of his face in this low light, just a hint of his teeth, and a part of his cheek. If you didn't know any better, this would be the perfect romantic scene with a boyfriend.

"i'm just," he grimaces, "i'm just having a bad night."

He brushes his face, palm to his sockets. When he removes his hand, his eyelights pulse unpleasantly, the edges looking like an old TV before they stabilize again.

"it's not important."

From the hint of a grimace, you don't think it's 'not important.'

You don't push it though.

"Ok. But then… why are you here?"

You know why. But you need more. And it needs to come from the monster himself.

Dust looks tired, but in a good way; the kind of tired you feel when you've just gotten home from a long journey, where you can finally rest. The back of a phalange brushes your cheek.

"i always come to your room when i have a bad night. this is just the first time you woke up."

"H… huh?"

"relax. all i did was watch you sleep. nothing happened," his forehead bumps into yours. He's never been so… intimate with you. And to this degree?

"look. you make the voices stop." He explains. His brow quirks, and he moves his head back, murmuring "oh hush now,"then turning back to you.

Now that, you did notice, the times where it looks like he's talking to himself— or more accurately, arguing with himself. You've never seen it up close before, though.

You swallow at how closely his eyelights were observing you, his face so close you felt his breaths on your lips.

"Wh-wha," you stammer, "what do you want me to do?"

"nothing." He's looking at you so intensely. "go back to sleep."

"Uh—"

You're floored. Dust closes his sockets, his mouth open a crack, then presses his face to your cheek. He moves his head back and forth, like a, like a… nuzzle. A very gentle, wanting nuzzle. There's a rumble in your throat, softer than before; a purr?

He pulls your legs closer, squeezing one arm around your chest and buries his fingers in your hair. His breathing slows as he falls asleep. You…

You don't know what to do. Stuck between his bones, you're forced to fall asleep next to him.

[sonezp]

The Young Actor

The air inside Matthew Uy’s apartment was still—too still. The kind of silence that doesn’t belong in a place where life should be moving.

Then, it happened. A shimmer in the air, barely visible, like heat rising from asphalt. The ghost of Elias Dela Torre slipped through the walls, unseen and unnoticed. He had been watching, waiting. And now, the moment had come.

Matthew had just returned from an event, tired, unaware of the presence lingering in the shadows. As he stood in front of his mirror, stretching his sore muscles, Elias made his move.

A sudden chill swept through the room. Matthew’s breath hitched. His eyes fluttered, and his body stiffened for just a moment. Then—stillness again.

But something had changed.

The figure in the mirror blinked. Then smirked.

Elias took a deep breath, feeling his new lungs expand. He stretched his fingers, flexing them experimentally. Then, with a smirk, he grabbed the hem of Matthew’s shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it to the floor.

“Damn,” Elias whispered, admiring the reflection before him. He ran a hand over the smooth skin, tracing the lines of the toned torso he now possessed. “This body… is perfect.”

He turned side to side, rolling his shoulders, feeling the strength in every movement. The definition of his abs, the curve of his chest—it was all his now. A body so young, so full of life. So unlike the fading memory of the form he once had.

Elias chuckled, running a hand through Matthew’s dark hair, tilting his head as he examined his new face. “Handsome. No wonder people like him.”

He flexed an arm, admiring the muscle, then dragged his fingertips across his jawline. This was power. This was life again.

Stepping away from the mirror, he rolled his neck, reveling in the sensation of warm blood pumping through his veins. He clenched a fist, then relaxed it.

Elias grinned at the sound of the knock but ignored it for now. He was still busy. This body—his body now—deserved to be fully explored.

He turned back to the mirror, rolling his shoulders and watching the way the muscles moved beneath his skin. He let his fingers run across his collarbones, then down his chest, feeling every inch as if he had been reborn.

A thought struck him.

He grabbed Matthew’s phone from the nightstand, flipping to the camera. The screen lit up, showing his new face, new body—his new existence.

He switched to video mode, propping the phone against the mirror before stepping back. The red recording light blinked.

Elias spread his arms out and slowly turned, making sure to capture every angle. The light in the room cast sharp shadows on his torso, highlighting each ridge and dip of his toned physique. He smirked, brushing a hand through his hair before flexing, watching how the muscles tensed.

He ran his palms over his chest, down to his abs, exhaling as he traced each defined line. "This… this is a body worth having," he murmured to himself.

He leaned closer to the camera, tilting his head with curiosity. He touched his lips, felt the warmth of them, then ran a thumb along his jaw. He had forgotten what it felt like to be solid, to be alive.

He chuckled, turning off the recording and playing it back. Watching himself on the screen, he grinned.

"I could get used to this."

Elias stretched his arms, cracked his neck, and exhaled. The ghost of Elias Dela Torre was no more.

From this moment on, he was Matthew Uy.

[meathunt]

Hii! One thing I thought might be interesting was mermaid! Reader x platonic Yandere fisherman? Maybe they were spotted while he was fishing or something! Just an idea ^^

WhitePearl

Really liked the idea! hop you like this one ^^

TW Implied violence and death, blood (not detailed), injuries

-----------.* ✶  ★⌒ヽ꒰ ♧ ꒱ヽ⌒★  ✶*.-----------

Adira was taught to be both respectful and fearful of the ocean, as the daughter of a fisherman, and a future one, those were lesson she would have to take to heart for the rest of her life.

Her dad had taught her the ropes of how to start in this world, the rules and regulations she will be subjected to from law and from her fellow workers. Going out with her dad gave her all the experience she needed.

In those early days she remembers hearing about all type of fairytales, about mounters circling certain parts of the sea, about treasure and creatures that are as old as time. She didn’t really believe it at first, but then people actually managed to capture some, showing them like trophies and selling them to the highest bidder, she truly thought it was disgusting.

The most popular creatures to hunt for were the merpeople, said to be beautiful and have enchanting voices, that they are able to create treasure, and if you managed to snatch one you would be able to sell it for a pretty penny. But in her opinion trying to caught one is more trouble than it’s worth it.

She ended up inheriting her father’s fishing business when he passed, and completely expanded it, becoming one of the most well-known names in the business, sadly this meant she wouldn’t be able to sail as much anymore, having to take the managing responsibilities.

But every now and then when she had time she would like to give a hand, either by giving a hand to one of her fishing vessels or to take the small ship that her father used to use in his day to day, being in her family long before she was even born. All the equipment was functional, even if it didn’t see much use anymore. That’s when she saw the first strange thing of the day.

After entering deep sea and settling for fishing for a bit she saw it, a head of light white hair in the sea, she had to make a double look, a mermaid, she was sure of it, it looked at her in a curious manner, not with the mean of threatening look that some of the hunters described, but more of a curious child looking at a toy for the first time. It did look young, but she wouldn’t really know, after all this IS the first time she had ever seen a merperson in the flesh.

Adira ignored it for an hour, in her side vision she could see it was singing, but after some minutes it stopped and even if now it did look a little mad, it still looked up at her with curious eyes. Not knowing that one of the things she first did when entering open sea is putting on earplugs, after all information about the danger of the creatures in sea was basic knowledge at this point.

She decided to take one of the bigger fishes she caught that day and throw it at them. They looked taken by surprise and ducked, after some seconds it emerged again, holding the fish.

It looked up at her again, and she smiled at them. It looked like they were deciding something, but at the end they ended up entering the sea and not coming back.

Even if she was mesmerized by the creature she wouldn’t take her chances so she packed up and set on to go back home for the day.

In the morning she heard the news that the poachers managed to find a small colony of mers, but thanks to them being too violent and over excited their “extraction” left them with barely 3 specimens alive, and even then heavily damaged.

She thought of the sweet face she saw yesterday, and her heart squeezed hard on her chest, she hopped you were okay.

That though hadn’t left her for the whole day, and at the end she cut her work short, going to her private port, not really knowing what she was looking for, but feeling this need to go back in the water.

She didn’t even need to get into her boat, on the rocks at the side of the port she saw a familiar white hair laying in them, she ran to you and sucked in a breath when she saw you. You were a pretty thing, no joke, but your body had wounds scattered around, still bleeding cuts and bruises showing up in your skin. But what attracted her attention the most was the big fin on your tail, it looked ripped, bleeding into the water. You looked a bit dried up and pale, worrying her further.

You coiled up when you heard sound looking feverishly up at her, but then recognition crossed your eyes, that was the kind human that gifted you some food yesterday, you could barely recognize her.

But that didn’t stop you from crying out to her, fat tears rolling of your eyes, turning into pretty pearls before they could touch the water. They say that mermaid tears were extremely expensive, being valued like one of the rarest gems out there. But Adira didn’t care, as she slowly approached you, showing no ill intent as she held you up in bridal style and ran back to her house. You held tightly to her neck, looking for comfort.

She was going to help you any way she could.

-----------.* ✶  ★⌒ヽ꒰ ♧ ꒱ヽ⌒★  ✶*.-----------

[heavens-crown]

And They Were Neighbors Pt.10

Master List

CW: Some angst, mentions of injuries, insane amount of fluff

Tag List: @starkgaryan @gabsgabsvaz @happyfestpanda-blog

A/N: Remember if you want to be added to the taglist either comment on here or shoot me a DM!

When Robby arrived home from his shift he saw Delilah finishing up dinner. Seeing her moving around his space with no qualms put something in him at ease. It was still hard to believe that they had only known each other for almost two months, but he wouldn’t change it for anything. Spotting him near the door she smiled brightly. 

“Dinners just about done, I'm just waiting on the rolls.” She explained, handing him a water bottle when he made his way over to him. Wrapping his arms around her waist Robby pulled her flush against his chest. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head and another one to her nose when she looked up at him he smiled softly. 

“Thank you baby girl, you didn’t have to do all this.” He murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Kissing his cheek she pulled away to fetch the rolls from the oven. They chatted as they set the table, asking about each other's day. He had almost called in to work not wanting to leave her alone but she was apparently just fine. When they sat down to eat he saw that she looked almost nervous. 

“Can I talk to you about something?” Delilah asked. She wasn’t looking at him, instead staring at her plate as if her food was the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Of course, everything ok?” He asked, curious about what exactly she wanted to discuss. Delilah took a deep breath before beginning. 

“So I know we said that we would do the situationship for as long as we wanted so we could see where we wanted it to go. Well I would like for us to make it more permanent, whether we call it dating, courting, or any other thing. My feelings have gone past simply friends,” She took a deep breath and when it looked like she was going to continue rambling Robby cut her off. 

“I would love to be your boyfriend Delilah,” he said. She blinked at him in surprise, seemingly not knowing what to say. “I honestly didn’t think you’d want to expand it further, especially considering the fact that you’re 29 and i’m 47.” Delilah simply frowned at him. 

“Why would your age matter? You’re a good person, you care so deeply about all of your patients, and you treat me way better than anyone else has.” She seemed genuinely puzzled on why he found the age gap concerning. Robby chuckled a bit, taking a sip of his water. 

“How is your family going to take the news that you’re dating someone 18 years your senior?” He asked curiously. Delilah pondered the question for a moment while finishing a bite of her food. 

“Grandma Rose will be happy since she mainly worries about our happiness. My uncles will be a little more wary, especially Uncle Todd since he’s the oldest at 57.” She said. 

“How many Uncles do you have?” Robby asked, wanting to know more about her family. A small smile spread across her face as she thought of her family. 

“I have 3 uncles and 3 aunts,” She replied between bites of her dinner. “Todd is the oldest at 57, Mary is second oldest at 55. Her and my dad were twins. Marcus, Trisha, and Sammi are 50. And Shawn is the baby at 45.” She ticked off each family member on her fingers. Robby’s head swam a bit trying to remember names and ages. 

“A set of twins and triplets?” He knew some families were prone to multiples but was a little shocked at just how many were in her immediate family. 

“Oh ya, my Grandma is actually a triplet herself,” Delilah chuckled. “My mom was the youngest out of 5 but I haven't heard from that side of the family since I left Spencer.” Her voice was sad as she talked about her maternal family. Robby frowned, not liking the look on her face or the sadness in her voice. Reaching across the table he squeezed her hand, lacing their fingers together. 

“Why don’t you talk to them?” He asked, his tone light so as to not come off as if he were prying for information. She sighed, putting down her fork and bracing her chin on the palm of her hand. 

“My cousin Cassie is married to his brother. They’re why we met in the first place. When things reached their peak and I attempted to leave none of them believed me,” Delilah said softly. “Even when I was covered in bruises and even had a broken rib they thought I was lying for attention.” Hearing how her family had treated her pissed Robby off to no end. He had to take a deep breath to calm the anger that was quickly rising. 

“I’m so sorry baby,” he said struggling to find the appropriate words. “I take it your paternal family believed you?” She let out a small snort, nodding her head with a smile. 

“They were furious, I had to convince my cousins it wasn’t worth the jail time if they tried to kill him.” She said laughing. Robby felt better knowing someone was on her side. It pained him to think of her hurting all alone. Changing the subject she pinned him with a questioning look. “I know you have your step son Jake, do you want biological kids at all?” Not expecting that question Robby choked on his water. Coughing a bit he managed to clear his throat. 

“I’ve thought about it,” he said, wiping his mouth. “But at this stage in my life I’m a little more ‘if it happens it happens’ you know?” Delilah nodded in agreement. 

“I’m the same way. I honestly could care less if I have kids,” She paused for a moment. “The only thing I know that I want eventually is to get married. Even if its just a courthouse wedding.” Robby nodded in agreement. 

“I’m old school so I agree on the marriage aspect,” He paused while she laughed. “Though honestly I’d rather date long term and then eventually get married.” Delilah looked relieved at his statement. 

“Oh thank god, people look at me like I got four heads whenever I say I want to be with someone for a minimum of three years before getting married.” Delilah then stood up and gathered their plates to take in the kitchen. 

“I take it we’re now good to move forward with dating?” he teased. He watched as she laughed, throwing him a bright smile.

“Yes sir, you aren’t getting away from me now.” 

As Robby strolled into work the next morning he spotted Santos, Whittaker, and Javadi huddled together near the nurses station. As he got closer he could make out what they were saying. 

“Do you think it’s like a sugar baby thing?” Santos asked curiously, not noticing that Robby was approaching them. “She was wearing a super short skirt when she came in here. Plus I swear I could see them hugging in the staff lounge.” Whittaker shot her an unimpressed look. 

“If he had a sugar baby why would she come anywhere near the hospital?” He asked, Javadi nodded her agreement. Before any of them could say anything Robby cleared his throat loudly startling them. 

“Good morning guys,” He said, watching as they looked at him nervously. “Just a tip for the future, conversations regarding your coworkers private lives should not be handled in the pit while you are on the clock.” When he indicated they were to return to work they scattered. Spotting Dana he made his way over to her.

“Good morning Robby,” She greeted cheerfully. Robby smiled as he greeted her back. “If you need Abbot for anything he’s up on the roof getting some air.” Sighing quietly Robby set his backpack down and headed toward the roof. Thankfully when he got up there Jack wasn’t standing on the ledge, he was just leaning on the railing looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else. 

“What’re you doing Jack?” He asked as he approached the other man. Jack sighed before leveling a look at Robby. 

“Having my daily existential crisis,” he deadpanned. “You seem more chipper than usual.” 

“Well waking up to my girlfriend making me coffee in only my shirt tends to do that,” Robby chuckled. Jack turned his full attention now on Robby with a raised eyebrow.

“So you finally manned up and asked Delilah out?” He asked. Robby smiled and nodded not missing the ‘fucking finally’ look Jack shot him. 

“Though technically she asked me out,” Robby said. Jack simply shook his head pushing away from the railing so they could head back inside.

“At least one of you is smart.”

[itsmebeff]

What are your thoughts and theory’s on Ralsei? How does he know about the roaring? Why does he look like Asriel? Why does he have a crush on Kris? Etc.. He’s just a very mysterious character and I’m genuinely interested to know what your thoughts are.

i think he knows about the roaring from gaster, and i subscribe to the theory that gaster made up the prophecy and fed it to ralsei. thats why ralsei gets concerned when we go off "script," or when susie does stuff she isnt supposed to. i believe he looks like asriel because hes meant to be a sort of "reflection" of kris, as in he is kind of representing who kris wishes they could be (a """TRUE""" dreemurr) and i love the theory that ralsei is kris's horn headband. i think chapter 3 will expand upon this a little more.

as for why he has a crush on kris.. idk. i think hes just very lonely and took a liking to kris and isnt sure what his feelings even mean since he has like..no contact with anyone ever. it also could have something to do with the player since he clearly has some inside knowledge that we arent aware of yet

he also has a very big problem with being his own person and feels like he just needs to fit the mold of what other people expect of him, and theres likely going to be more character growth of ralsei learning to be "himself"- or "ralsei-like" i suppose- and i think susie will be the main catalyst of that growth.

overall i dont think hes a villain or "secretly evil," i think he has good intentions and thinks hes steering the gang in the right direction, but ultimately something bad will come of it later on.

but that's just a theory............

[castkorb]

I had a discussion with a friend on twitter about the fact –and consequences– of Sting killing the previous Sabertooth master, Jienma and possibly more people and I feel like throwing my two cents here and expanding a bit more. Long post ahead ✌🏽

First of all, I want to make clear that my opinion on the Magic Council is that they're soo stupidly incompetent throughout the manga, so much that it shouldn't come to anyone's surprise they did nothing to Sting after killing Jienma, like they had "criminals" doing their job at one point, c'mon.

With that out of the way let's being: I'm aware of what I just said about the council, but taking in the context of where and when it took place I don't think they genuinely could do much lmao.

Firstly, the only time I remember them actually doing their job decently was during Oracion Seis, the times before and after that they were more or less there just to add the comedic bit of "Shit, we destroyed another town and the council's here, let's scram." And like, whatever the fuck they were doing during Tower of Heaven –this itself could be on another analysis post, did they seriously never doubted Siegrain?? did they just buy his lame story of "Oh yeah my twin brother who did a massacre when he was 7 is still out there making a cult or something but I got nothing to do with it don't worry about it, also don't pay attention to that it's not important rn" ???– But that was more the 10 Magic Saints and not the council I guess? but also they're the rulers of the magic council so we're on the same boat. I also just remembered the fact that sometimes they do fake trials to appease the population with no actual punishments being ruled lmao, I swear I was trying to be impartial here but it's getting harder the more stuff I remember.

Anyways, back to the GMG: They were a mess, like literally within the context. The king himself was operating illegally under the radar for 7 years and I can only imagine the Council's reaction to that fact literally moments prior to seven fucking dragons appearing out of nowhere. (The fact that the king and princess were left with just a scolding from Mest by all this was wild, truly up to the medieval(? times FT is set up in, –also keeps proving my opinion right– and raises many fucking questions about what the monarchy in this country is doing????) So, in summary, I don't think they had time to care about Sting killing Jienma. ☠️

But if you want my longer analysis (this is rhetorical I'm doing it anyways.) Consider the history of Sabertooth, whatever methods Jienma (and Minerva) had of moving the guild forwards definitely included doing not so legal stuff swept under the rug, I'm guessing by Minerva or Jienma himself. I'm taking guesses here but it could've been by bribing the Council –given how gullible they are apparently ☠️– or the Council either being intimidated enough by Jienma or because the guild tangled with the legality of the magic world so well they couldn't really do/say much to the guild during those years Jienma was in charge.

That probably helped Sting in this case, we don't know if the Sabertooth members were aware of such methods or if they had a general idea, I could assume Sting only found the full of it when he became master and had full access to the guild's records. But honestly I don't think it's farfetched to think anyone in Saber has killed people under Jienma's command more than once, since Sabertooth was introduced as a direct opposite of what Fairy Tail stands for –value your comrades as family, vow to kill no one– I think it was set to be assumed.

Maybe not ordered in ways such as "Kill this guy." but since the motto of Sabertooth was to be the better than any guild through whatever means necessary, it's not unlikely they were ordered to "dispose" of the competence more than once, as the first scene in which Sting and Rogue are introduced is literally them massacring a Dark Guild and leaving (I'm assuming) only one guy alive.

Another part of the discussion we had was what would Fairy Tail's opinion on the fact that Sting killed the previous master be and honestly? I don't think they gave a fuck.

Throughout the GMG, Sabertooth did many things to the FT members that deserve no mercy and we saw that, how each of them reaped what they sowed. Even Natsu, to no one's surprised railed the Guild's motel just to shit talk and beat the crap out of the master for humiliating Yukino.

But then, (and pardon me if I overindulge here, because this is genuinely my favorite part of the arc) the finals arrive, every single member of Saber is defeated and given retribution and only Sting is left against Fairy Tail.

And he breaks down. All of the years worth of pressure and forcibly internalized overconfidence he had to learn in Sabertooth in order to survive, destroyed in a mere week. How do you take on all that? He was 19 at that time, as self-sufficient he was he was still a kid, a kid in a most definitely not healthy environment to grow up in. –Assuming, since the manga said Sabertooth became a top guild 5 years prior after their most powerful mages joined, meaning he'd have been 14 when he joined Saber– Sting had no way of knowing how to deal with loss of such shape, so he broke down in front of his enemies, and all that pilled-up pressure fell on him.

But of course as I mentioned, Sabertooth is a guild created to parallel everything Fairy Tail stands for, and that wouldn't be the first nor the last time they help someone from outside their guild, including former enemies. I specially adore how it was Erza who consoled him, Natsu was probably the first who realized the members of Sabertooth were molded to stain their hands in the name of the guild because of Jienma, and Erza likely realized too in that moment.

And we all know Sting strives to be like Natsu but I think Erza offering him solace in this moment was core to his growth later on, she was probably the first person other than Rogue and his father who was kind to him, –since he doesn't remember Anna yet– and it was the helping hand he needed to take the first step forwards after losing everything you've ever known.

Sorry I did say I was going to overindulge lol but I love this scene so much. But back to the original question, yes Fairy Tail values their vows passionately and fiercely and yet they also rebel against them a few times, –the recurring theme of young people breaking the outdated norm is also a constant in the manga– so I think, after learning the whole story they sort of decided to forgive and adopt/mentor the members of Sabertooth and mend all the trauma they had to deal with. I love the tiny bits we see of FT members being sort of overprotective towards Saber members, they're cute.

Sooo after all that the conclusion is: yeah, Sting has probably killed people, and Fairy Tail doesn't give a damn about it 👍🏼

(I'm seriously this close to make another long post on Sting's growth in character because he makes me sick I love him so much)

[linkons-most-wanted]

💫 Quantum Entanglement 🍎

In this “home” that Caleb and I share in the ruins of Lingshi, I can start to imagine what life is like in that place he describes at the edge of Deepspace. Normal people walk out and return together. They are given tasks that help each other—Caleb says these are called ‘jobs’. When they are not doing their tasks, they go places that they want and do things that they want. He tells me that the jobs give people ‘credits’, and they can use those credits to obtain supplies. But not only supplies—also things ‘just because’. “Fun things, like clothes or plushies…” He sits on the bed next to me. “What is ‘clothes’?” “Clothes are… What people wear when they don’t have mechanical exoskeletons.” I look down at my metal-wreathed hand. “I do not need clothes?” “Well, it’s not about what you need. It’s about what you want.” “Do I need plushies?” He makes a warm sound—a laugh—that lights up his eyes. “Yeah. You need plushies.” “What is… are… plushies?” “Well… you remember those birds we saw yesterday?” “Yes.” I nod firmly. “It’s like… a little fake version of a bird that you can hold.” “A fake… bird?” “Yeah, but… fake in a cute way. They’re soft and you can squish them. They don’t need food and won’t run away.” “What is ‘cute’?” He blinks, and there’s an expanding of the blood vessels of his face and ears that causes a pinkish hue. “Well… It’s a way something looks that… makes you feel like you need to protect it. And… it’s very important to you.” “I need to protect you. You’re very important to me. You are cute?” He laughs again and the pink color deepens. “Not as cute as you.” “I am cute?” His knuckles rise to brush my cheek. “Extremely.” “When… you first saw me, you wanted to protect me. It’s because… I’m cute?” His cheeks are the brightest I’ve ever seen them. He looks away and rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah, you could say it like that.”

~*~*~

“Are you sure?” he breathes. I scan his face. “You look like you think this is wrong. Is it?” “I… I don’t know…” “Well… I want it. Do you want it?” Caleb is quiet, breathing shallow and quick, eyes locked on mine. When he looks at me like this, I am not a weapon. I am not a shell. I am something divine. Deep, primal instinct surges within me. It makes my voice husky and low. I repeat my question. “Caleb, do you want it?” The word is a desperate, abashed confession. “Yes…”

Read on AO3

[xi4oyan]

The Waters Whisper

The waters call for you.

They always have.

The river that runs between the mountains, the ocean that touches the line of the sky, the silent tears that are lost in the vastness of the world. You are made of these things. The damp breeze carries the scent of your skin, and the foam of the waves sings your name with devotion. They always knew that one day he would come.

And he came.

He arrived like the wind before a storm—restless, rebellious, impossible to contain. The Monkey King, forged by the earth and shaped by freedom, an immortal who once defied the heavens. You saw him first under the moon’s blue light, when the waters were still and the world seemed suspended in time.

"I knew you were waiting for me." His voice carries the warmth of the sun on river stones, a smile hidden at the corner of his words.

You do not answer. You only watch. The waters around you reflect the stars, shifting as if whispering secrets even immortals could not understand. He smiles. Wukong always smiles, even when he shouldn’t.

"You’re like a dream that slips through my fingers" His golden eyes gleam like amber at dusk. "They say water deities never belong to anyone. But I am stubborn"

The waters whisper again, and you feel that he has disturbed them enough. "And if it’s true?"

He leans closer, his tail swaying slightly. "Then let me belong to you."

His words are like stones cast into a serene lake, creating ripples that expand forever. Wukong is wild, as untamable as thunder. But there, under the tranquil gaze of the waters, you realize something strange. He does not want to rule. He does not want to capture. He wants to be lost.

Perhaps, of all the things in the world, he wishes to be a river. To run beside you. To follow your course.

You extend your hand, and he takes it without hesitation.

"If I go, will you follow me?" Your voice is a soft murmur, almost like rain before it touches the ground.

His eyes grow gentle. "As far as the waters will take me."

The world seems to breathe around you. The wind dances through the golden strands of your hair, and the water kisses your ankles like a prayer. For the first time, Wukong is not running. For the first time, he chooses to stay.

And you, daughter of the waters, let him drown in his fate.

Did you miss me?

[lovecherishmm]

Age regression of Ron Molran.... Gone Wrong

It was supposed to be easy. Mob just needs to cast random spells and hinder the Silver Shield hero's party, staying true to his liege's order. He, as a mere butthole to his squad, the only thing he's good at doing is messing things up, which is precisely his line of work. His colleagues cheered him up and said having the exact opposite of Mida's touch is a form of 'Mida's touch' in itself, he's the expert in causing trouble to the hero's party. Incessant inconveniences. A persistent fly. That's why his liege views him in a bright light. Quite sad, but the pay is hefty so he held it in.

Usually, it works in their favour. Triggering a landslide or causing unintentional flooding because he chanted random magic spells was great so long he did it at the right place. It endangers the civilians, and heroes always save the civilians.

His favourite hero is Choi Han-nim, by the way, he even succeeds in securing an exclusive signature. Mob is not sure if he has to be happy Choi Han-nim regards him as a civilian and a fan, instead of someone from White Star's party. Maybe he looks too unassuming for a bad guy, maybe he looks too stupid.

So when Mob raises his hands, not knowing what spell he casting, the hero's party does not bat an eye in his direction. He's standing on their side after all, behind him was a bunch of cute children he'd promise to buy a cake if they stayed still. His mana glowed in a soft ambience of muddy green, the ugly version of healing magic the healers are busy casting to the injured. Choi Han-nim briefly glanced at him, he parried every attack of Mister Sayeru with ease, offering a proud smile along the way. His favourite hero recognize him, Mob feels bad.

The spell took the form of a shield, expanded wide enough to cover him and the cute children, perfect displays of defence magic. He waited for something else, something wrong, his constitution was such that whatever spells he cast, the intended result would diverted.

Nothing happened for a moment. A beat or two. Everyone in the surroundings is occupied with their own opponents. Bom, his sibling in crime, strike his shield in a convincing pretence. They work together for so long that they repeatedly almost kill each other on a regular basis.

"Did it work?" Bom asked after the third beat. "Or was it a proper spell this time?"

Mob shook his head, he had no idea. "Pretend to lose now, I need to see if it was aimed magic and struck someone already."

Bom relented, "Damn. Someone better not end up dead on our side."

Mob delivered a strong punch, sending Bom to crash into a building, probably knocking him out.

"Let's head to somewhere safe."

He gave two silver coins to the children and let the healer in charge know to treat them to some cakes once things got settled. The children cheered, their laughter brought hope. Mob knows hope was the best deceit.

It wasn't until he reached the blind spot of the battle, observing everyone and everything to see where his spell had landed, that he saw it.

He could see the Silver Shield hero screaming 'Ron!', face paled and horrified, it was the name of his trusted butler. The old guy was coughing up blood, soaked in cold sweat and staggering. He spams and seizes, his body seems to crumple on itself, the process grotesque and painfully slow.

The grey hair turned dark brown, lush and silk. The wrinkles disappeared, muscle firmed and apparent even from the place Mob sat dumbly on.

"Why...," he's completely taken aback, "Why does he look so handsome?"

The butler seemed to de-aged, not into a child, but into the age of his prime.

Usually, his ability works in the White Star's favour. But like this, he knew he just boosted the butler back into his youth. He just strengthened another threat, he messed up things in the wrong direction.

"Ah sheesh." At least he didn't mistakenly killed his fellow again, so he could count that as a win.

"The muscle.... Damn. He got better muscle than Choi Han-nim."

If the Silver Shield hero himself got flummoxed into oblivion, it shows how mind-blowing the whole thing was. The thick eyebrows, sharp eyes and sculpted nose. Muscle built from countless battles made its appearance beneath his bloodied uniform, the butler... Ron... Was too handsome to be a mere butler.

In someone's head, a certain baby dragon shout in awe.

– Lemonade Gramps! Human, Lemonade Gramps looks so fine!!!

[samsayswhatever]

https://people.com/patrick-schwarzenegger-isnt-going-to-watch-rest-of-the-white-lotus-with-his-family-11703152

I'm genuinely terrified

wtfff does that meaan

I knowww! I feel like there is going to be a lot of death, injury, and crazy twists in this last episode.

But the fact that Patrick won't even watch it with his family??? He seemed specifically anxious about his nude scenes being seen by his family, and even more anxious about the kiss scene and handjob scene because it was with his characters brother(or possibly just because it was a guy). He never talked about being stressed at all watching Chelsea's sex scenes, or the mildly graphic imagined murder scenes.

So that says to me there is a scene with him being nude either going further than a handjob with Loch, or with another guy. Expanded theories about ep 7 below:

I'm thinking that Saxon will continue to spiral in the next episode by going to Greg's party, getting crazy drunk, and having sex with someone. Who it is could be is interesting. Chloe mentioned a threesome between Saxon, Greg, and her, but that seems pretty doubtful based on how many people Greg is inviting over. If he wanted a threesome he wouldn't invite Belinda.

--

If Belinda goes to the party, she'll probably bring her son for support or he'll insist on going for support. If greg turns out to be actually chill and nice, that could put them at ease, and Zion could go off mother-protection duty. Belinda and Zion talked about relationships, and it seemed like he hasn't gotten any recently. So then if Saxon started flirting with him they could have sex! Which would be a fun twist.

I think Saxon would be interested in fucking a guy to see if the only reason he could cum with Loch was because he was gay. Saxon might be very anti-gay, but I think he's more anti-incest lol. So if he could convince himself he just likes guys, NOT only Loch, then maybe he could justify what happened in the threesome as not being about his attraction to Lochlan.

Idk what other guys will be at this party besides his dad, but if Saxon fucks his dad then I can see why he wouldn't watch this episode with his family at all. There is theme of confusing desire and identify, and Saxon does identify as wanting to be his dad, but it seems unlikely.

There is a chance that the three white ladies will go to this party for some reason. If so, Laurie could sleep with Saxon because she's mad about Jaclyn and Valentin, and Saxon might want to prove his heterosexuality to himself. However, it seemed like Laurie was going to go to the Muay Thai thing, so her friends could either go with her, or go to Gregs party in spite. I don't think Jaclyn or Kate would sleep with Saxon though, and I don't think that would keep Saxon from being about to watch this with his family.

--

If Piper ends up hating the monastery, then they might leave together and go to the party. Alternatively, piper will notice Lochy's not doing so well, and have a talk with him. I don't think Lochlan will say "I fucked our brother" in those words, but he might say, either "I can't figure out my feelings for someone," or "I messed up and hurt Saxon." Either way, Piper is likely to suggest talking it out with him. If she really likes the monastery at this point, she might say, "go on without me; deal with your issues." And then Loch will go home.

If one of the parents stay behind or is back already, they can direct Loch to where Saxon is at the party. Loch will show up, and Saxon will already be insanely drunk, and they will either have the talk they need to have, or they will just like fuck in Chloe's walk-in closet or something idk. I can dream.

If Loch leaves the monastery early enough, then maybe he will have a chance to talk to Saxon before he get's drunk, and there is a chance at some more tender and emotional moments. I would love to see this. I want Loch to walk into their room to find Saxon with his head in his hands, and they instantly know that they both remember. Aaaaggg. Anyway.

Another option is that Lochlan will stay at the monastery and meditate longer, and there will be a flashback to Saxon and Lochlan having sex after Chloe left the threesome. This plot point doesn't stop the others from happening, and is fairly likely based on the amount of flashbacks that have already happened. The show seems to enjoy surprising us in this specific way.

--

I think if there is any type of sex scene between Saxon and Lochlan then Patrick's insistence on not watching it with his family makes a lot of sense. If it's there is another make out scene between them, or a very clear confession, I can also imagine he would be embarrassed to play a character that explicitly and purposefully chose incest, compared to the more ambiguous previous scenes.

Anyway, TLDR I'm also terrified, but also excited 🥰

Thanks for reaching out anon! As you can probably tell, I love these messages

[emeraldspiral]

Say what you will about the ability of the people chosen for the project to deliver a Zelda movie that doesn't suck. But I'm seeing a lot of people saying Zelda doesn't have enough story to make a movie and I'm like... What are you even talking about? Zelda games are probably the most narrative-driven out of all Nintendo's IPs and the lore is a big part of why they're so popular.

Like, something like Mario or Banjo-Kazooie can be a challenge to adapt because there's basically no plot-progression between the inciting incident and the final boss. You just visit a bunch of different worlds to obtain tokens and none of it builds toward anything and there aren't any narrative twists or turns and nobody has a character arc. But that hasn't really been the case for Zelda since the very earliest games. Virtually every Zelda from Link to the Past onward has some semblance of a plot with a beginning, a midpoint plot twist or reveal, and an ending, storylines that play out for various NPCs and sidekicks, and lore drops explaining what happened in the ancient past that informs the current state of affairs, and things that change throughout the game that show the impact of Link's actions as he completes different legs of his quest.

But also like, even if it were true that Zelda games "have no story", do these people have no imagination? Think of all fairy tales that have been adapted into feature-length Disney movie that were originally like a 10-minute read.

If anything a Zelda movie is a bad idea because I'd rather have a series. Like, IDK if they're going to make an original story, but if they were going to adapt one of the games OoT seems like the obvious choice. Not just because of its popularity, but because of it's impact on the rest of the series as the origin point for the three divergent timelines. And I feel like if you were to do just one movie based on OoT or even split it into 2 movies, it would still feel really rushed to have Link bouncing from location to location to get all the spiritual stones and sage medallions and there wouldn't be enough time to really develop all the different races and their problems and Link's relationships with the sages beyond what we already got in the original game in just 2-4 hours. So what would be the point?

I'd rather see it adapted as a series that can take its time fleshing out all the characters and adding more depth to the original story. I want to see Navi with more personality and more of an emphasis on her developing a bond with Link and how her leaving at the end affected him so you have a deeper understanding of his feelings going into Majora's Mask. I want an episode dedicated to Ganondorf's backstory and how a harsh life in the desert and the influence of his surrogate mothers turned him from someone who might've been a noble leader at one point into the person he ultimately became and how he and Nabooru may have once been close until Ganondorf's moral compromises drove her to oppose him. I want an emphasis on the coming of age aspect of the story with Link's peculiar position used to explore the question of what actually makes someone an adult. I want an episode dedicated to showing us everything Zelda went through after her kingdom was taken over and she had to go into hiding and learn to fight so she could one day take it back. There are so many opportunities to expand upon the ideas presented in the original OoT that one movie wouldn't be enough to do it justice.

But that's pretty much true for most Zelda games. Like, they all have at least 4 dungeons, but usually more, and there's always a sidequest you have to do for each dungeon to make it accessible, and it usually involves helping out the people living in the immediate area surrounding the dungeon who are being affected by whatever curse has befallen it. So even when the plots are really thin, the very nature of them being structured and paced around taking you to a bunch of different locations that each have their own mini-narrative attached makes it awkward to try to adapt any game or even write an original story following the formula of the games as a single three-act movie rather than as a series of episodic chapters.

Something like Majora's Mask would especially benefit from being adapted as a series rather than a movie since it's the sidequests that make it as beloved as it is and it would feel too cluttered to try and cram all of them in, but you'd lose a lot of emotional impact if you only focused on a select few.

[ilikekidsshows]

Marinette and Adrienette discourse aside, what I find very off-putting about Miraculous since season 3 is the inability to differentiate between secundary characters and background characters. It’s very contradictory because none of the Miracuclass aside from Alya, Chloé and Nino are compelling enough to warrant any meaningful interest. I distinctly remember people giving Nathaniel a bigger role during season 1, putting him in situations and even shipping him with Chloé, but that doesn’t really contradict my statement because it showed people’s willingness to latch onto a narrow scope of characters and expanding on them. Realistically no one is interested in a wide set of characters that account to what, fifteen people? I didn’t even count them all because I can’t remember them. Are the miraculous all interesting to watch? Yeah. But why give them to every single person who ever breathed in the same room as Marinette? There is a reason why the cool stuff happens to the MC and their crew. People don’t have the time to invest in a dozen different characters who aren’t even flashed out properly past one or two quirks (if we’re lucky). 

I remember when Ladybug started giving away the miraculous like they were candies, some people said you don’t have to give a character a miraculous to flash them out. I agree, but this isn’t even about that. I think you don’t need to flash them all out, period. At least not all of them. Also because the flash out part in question boils down to “Oh no my partner/sibling/friend is in danger and for some reason two perfectly capable superheroes need my help.” I’m like, why. Who cares about Kim or Max or Mylène getting a power-up. Genuinely, I’ve never seen a single fanart of them dressed up as superheroes. I’m sure some of them exist, but the fandom at large does not care.

If you want to compare ML to MHA, while MHA is not perfect, there are undoubtedly some characters that are more important than the rest of the class and the story focuses on them. But the thing is, it is *required* that they all be the heroes because that’s the plot. It’s a school designed for that purpose, the very best in fact. But Miraculous? Just let this class be normal. Let us see Marinette hang out with her girlfriends and Adrien play with the Kitty Section and Adrien and Nino actually being bffs (remember when Nino was still worth something?) and have Adrien and Chloé’s supposed friendship actually hold value (whether or not you like her it’s up to you, but to show had Adrien keep insisting she was his only friend growing up only for that to go absolutely nowhere). 

Also they could’ve just showed the powers by having Marinette and Adrien use them. Hell even the Alya-Nino-Chloé trio. We actually have that! But then we also have… ten different heroes. For whatever reason. 

---

Another scorching hot take: giving a character a Miraculous isn't even fleshing them out. Almost any one of these episodes could be written without the side character being focused on getting a Miraculous. All the tertiary heroes do in any episode after transforming is blindly follow Ladybug’s orders without question. They jump when she tells them to jump and use their special power when she tells them to. They're merely extensions of Marinette's plan to make her look smarter and not characters in their own right. The same effect could be gotten with Marinette or Adrien (but let's not kid ourselves, Marinette will only ever share power with her partner once to appease him after treating him like crap for weeks) used the Miraculous instead. It really shows how bad the writers are at long term planning when they had Unification have no actual setbacks in practice.

I actually think Miraculous' wide and varied cast used to be more of a strength. The world feels so much more real when our protagonists’ classmates all have their own things going on, even if it's just one or two things per character. It makes sure a wide variety of interests kids might be into can be included in the stories. The Kitty Section episode, ‘Silencer’, worked the best for this, tackling topics to do with the entertainment industry while Marinette was along for the ride because she was helping them out. Similarly, we have two episodes where the cast is filming a movie, although I only like the first one, ‘Horrificator’, because the latter is just Chloé being annoying. But it's a fun excuse to get the large cast together for an episode.

In an ideal show with Miraculous’s format, the classmates would be the vehicles to introduce Marinette and/or Adrien to the Problem of the Episode, which will have our heroes there when the conflict causes an Akuma to pop up, giving them an understanding of what’s going on, and making them able to have some dialogue at the end about what just went down, the “what did we learn today?” discussion or some other self-reflection moment. Like, with Kim you could tackle competition topics, sore losers, cheating and even throwing a contest for some reason. With Nathaniel you could tackle worries about not being original or eye-catching enough, of wanting to chase trends in order to get noticed and how to deal with the frustration of putting so much effort into your craft and not being appreciated. The fact that we have actually gotten a few episodes like that makes it so annoying when the writers insist on their lazy options of “Chloé is a jerk” and “Marinette concocts a crazy scheme around Adrien, casualties ensue” for most of the series.

The issue, I feel, is that the writers are constantly failing to utilize their large cast for storytelling, mostly due to their laziness and lack of ambition. As of the retool, we almost never see the characters taking part in their established hobbies, instead obsessing over the main couple even more than Marinette does. It’s just like how the hero selves exist merely as tools to be used for Marinette’s schemes, their civilian selves exist merely to tell the audience that Marinette and Adrien are meant to be. They’re pure utility with no character, and the utility is the same for every single character.

That last bit is how this relates to what you said; how Miraculous doesn’t differentiate between secondary characters and background characters, because the writers refuse to elevate any character to secondary status and actually keep them there / commit to it. The best any character not named Marinette can hope for is being a recurring supportive character, and those are barely distinct from background characters. There are some bits that make us think Alya in the retool or Adrien in the earlier seasons are supposed to be secondary characters, but they just don’t get the focus necessary to make them pop from the rest of the cast. These characters have gone through some big life changes, but we barely know how they feel about any of that. Despite their plot importance they have the emotional depth of a spilled glass of water. It’s annoying.

The main reason that Miraculous’ cast feels bloated is that the writers can’t use a variety of characters imaginatively to justify needing a cast that big, and they have no concept of a character tier list or how to signal character importance to the audience. Giving all the classmates Miraculouses makes them seem equally important, or just more important than Recurring Akuma Victim Number 72, when they just blatantly aren’t. Freaking Mr. Pigeon has more emotional depth than Minotaurox. Freaking Rooster Bold is nothing more than a punny reference to an actually entertaining superhero.

[wmiescieinazumy]

i probably won't be able to finish this response before my next class starts but i can try lolol- yeah i didn't make it KSHFJSDK

Really sorry abt taking so long with responses </3 i'm not really built for long, back-to-back discussions, the fatigue catches up to me really fast

I'll respond referring to specific parts like this so it's easier to read for both me and you 😭

It really pains me, though, because the concept is amazing, just the execution that leaves A LOT to be desired.

I totally get the feeling. I think GO in general struggles a lot with executing and expanding on the concepts they choose to introduce. They could have done so much more with Keshin and Keshin Armed, done a better job at making the side characters from opposite teams more memorable (so you don't end up going "who tf are those people" when they show up in resistance japan in galaxy-), led and resolved certain subplots a lot more effectively... I love GO, I think it has so much potential and by god do i wish the writers took more time working on it. I can be pretty harsh on Chrono Stone because the premise really doesn't do it for me since I'm not a big fan of time travel stories. That, and the way CS does it leaves a lot to be desired in my opinion. It doesn't flow well at all: the entire club is back really fast, then it turns out uh oh, tsurugi is missing we gotta go get him; yuuichi's appearance is out of nowhere and doesn't get brought up ever again; after that we find out about some random match that got used to make soccer illegal in japan; the team leaves again; fei conviniently remembers there's this super epic soccer manual in the future so now we're doing a museum heist; then we need to find someone who can read that goddamn soccer fanfic; we start jumping from era to era but we make sure to visit the torture facility island (god eden) in the meantime; suddenly after 30+ episodes we're on el dorado's side and nobody mentions that they tried to kill us for so long- it's a mess.

It's so fragmented and has little to no actual weight and consequences. Like you said, CS is aggresively plot-driven. The characters are dragged away from event to event like puppets and nothing they do makes any significant impact on the course of events. The plot idea came first and it's inflexible, the characters have to fit the mold; it's like trying to put a square-shaped block into a circle-shaped hole.

I see the appeal of CS and it's so disappointing that it's not as good as it could have been.

When it comes to Galaxy, I'm at the very start of the season because of other obligations and also the fact that i physically cannot make myself watch more than two episodes at a time. 😭 I spent all my energy reserves when i watched 17 CS episodes in a row that one time.

It's actually something I recall myself talking with people before - how Fei's only bonds (in Raimon) are Tenma and Kinako (more bc he's literally her son than because they're close or anything - speaking of which, what I NEEDED was for Kinako to become friends with Fei, and actually, yknow, put some work to get to know her kid, instead of running of info from Asurei, essentially - I wanted to see her organically grow to care about him).

I totally agree. Their bond in the show feels more like a conceptual connection rather than an actual relationship. In my older texts i sent to my friend i said that Fei's interactions with Kinako are mostly Kinako reaching out to him and Fei passively receiving without giving a lot back. It felt one-sided.

Kinako befriending Fei would have been so good... Especially when you start wondering about her background. What was her life like for her to agree to a stranger's request, not to mention one this outlandish? My personal interpretation is that her life up to that point must have been terribly lonely and devoid of deep, meaningful connections. I doubt a kid who agreed to be swept away on a journey, essentially into a different world, would have done so if they were happy with their life. The promise of a family member somewhere out there, someone who is supposed to love and cherish you no matter what would be extremely appealing to a child in a bad situation. It's really no different from people wishing they could travel to a world from their book and identifying with characters who leave their reality behind for their new life in a fantastical world. Exploring her motivations would bring another dimension to her character, because all of it being about blood-relations is a pretty shallow approach imo.

I would have loved if we saw Kinako finding her family with the raimon soccer club, and not just fei on the basis that they're blood-related. It'd make her inevitable departure SO much more heartbreaking. As a side note, i can't believe the anime didn't show us everyone signing that soccer ball for Kinako and just showed her already holding it. That's prime tear-jerker moment right there and they just let that chance slip by them. 😭

This is the "friendship is magic" show and it's honestly so sad that the friendship takes a backseat for the abomination that is the time travel plot.

Like, Fubuki mattered to everybody, and Fubuki cared about them, too - it was never something that you felt the need to question. With Fei I'd say the only person he genuinely cares about is Tenma, and even that relationship feels more like it's running on They're Similar :) than them actually being friends.

Great comparison to Fubuki! I 100% agree with everything you said here. Genuinely, if you asked Fei to name all of Raimon members i bet he wouldn't have gotten half of them /j And so on point about Tenma and Fei too. Their connection feels so surface level. One other character Fei also interacts with often is that blue bear mascot but like Torb, he's even more of a gag character. i honestly hate that bear sdfhsjkfhskjd whenever he wasn't chosen to be coach i was cheering

As I've said in that other post, even Shindou and Tsurugi aren't given all that much focus beyond their arcs.

Yeahhhhh CS really is the Tenma and Fei show huh. And even then it took them 30 episodes IN A 51 EPISODE SEASON to give Fei anything more to do other from being the chill exposition character. Waiting until the dino arc to start digging into his emotional state and past was a huge misstep in my opinion - this is (essentially) your secondary protagonist for this season for god's sake! When I got to that part i told my friend that if i wasn't insane I would have dropped CS a long time ago because it's ridiculous you have to wait so long to get to know anything meaningful about Fei.

And yeah. Also. Fucking Torb. Like, I don't dislike him, ok? But he's a randomass late addition that doesn't get much of anything, to be honest. He's just kinda there. Kariya should've had this miximax and I'll die on this hill. Especially after he gave Kirino that chance, it kinda felt like he desevred something for it smh.

Yeah fr 😭 And the mental gymnastics the show had to do to justify him going with them had me scratching my head. My guy one second was like "i gotta protect Big now that his mom is dead" and five seconds later he decides to fuck off. I found my direct quote from when i was watching: "just an episode ago he was all like "i will protect rockstar's son" and now hes like "its when you are alone that you find out if ur truly strong or not" sighhhhh".

I like your idea about his spot being given to Kariya! I said Kurama later in the response bc he's my underrated fave and i genuinely forgot that the position was for a defender LMAO Kariya would make a good fit here :]

Gamma is there to be used by Zanark, which pisses me off so fucking much I just can't.

Personally i have no strong feelings about Gamma one way or the other (definitely bc of his very limited screentime, this guy wasn't even given a chance to get to make an impression on the audience-) but i completely uderstand the feeling. The only thing i remember about him is that Zanark kicks the ball into his face during one of the ragnarok matches and that made me laugh. I was so out of it man

Like, I can genuinely believe that Zanark was always meant to join, but his arc is so fragmented that it starts to feel out of nowhere.

Once again, hard agree on Zanark. They really yeeted him into the backrooms and had him come back and be like "im on ur team now" and the rest went "ok". Like bro what was that. wdym you're letting him join just like that

Zanark was kinda my saving grace at the end because he is so fucking funny in the ragnarok matches. Genuinely woke me up from my stupor with all the insane lines and expressions they gave him. is his arc well-written? hell no, but so isn't CS so i was just like you know fuck it. comedic fave right there

the range of emotions chrono stone makes me feel and not feel is lowkey crazy (can you tell im losing my eloquence-)

All of this. But even aside from that, what I wished was for exploration of Shindou and Kirino's relationship, especially post-France. I don't remember, so correct me, did Shindou notice that Kirino was starting to doubt himself before they went there? Like, Kirino is very attentive to Shindou's emotional state, we've seen it, but I don't recall Shindou ever doing the same. I love him dearly, but it does feel like he takes Kirino's presence and support for granted. And, sure, you can chalk it up to Shindou's trust in Kirino being that strong, but there's trusting, and there's ignoring the emotional well-being of your best friend. Kariya was far more attentive and showed far more care for Kirino if my memory doesn't fail me.

AND WE'RE BACK WITH AN ENERGY BURST BABYYYYYYYY

I totally agree, I wish we had a deeper exploration of their bond than what the show has given us. As much as i love those two, I'll be the first to admit that their relationship is often portrayed one-sidedly, with more visible effort coming from Kirino's side. This could be a good set up for a conflict later on, but because it isn't, it just ends up making you feel sad. The curse of a captain and their long-haired best friend is real in the inazuma eleven franchise 😭

Shindou didn't notice Kirino's doubts before leaving for France, in fact, Kariya is the only character who did. It's a double edged sword for me. On one hand there's a point to be made about Kirino's tendency to keep his problems to himself (like how in the Kirino&Kariya subplot in season 1 he never told anyone about Kariya's bullying), and how perhaps he has gotten so good at it that even his friends don't notice when he's worried. On the other, Kirino doesn't make all that big of an effort to hide what he's feeling. In particular, he never tries to fake his expression or anything like that. He'd tell you that it's nothing, but you can clearly see there is something bothering him. And one you start guessing and guess correctly, you can easily get a reaction out of him that will give you a hint or tell you directly what is the problem (just like what Kariya did).

No one else noticing, especially Kirino's best friend, makes everyone look... kinda stupid. Some of them are supposed to have known Kirino for over a year now and you're telling me nobody noticed? I think that the writing is partially at fault here. Having Kirino internalize and hide his worries feels like an intentionally written part of his character, but the lack of reactions from anyone else is a result of weak writing imo. New raimon isn't as well established as the OG cast, and since CS already neglects its characters, i'm not surprised no one else reacts except for that One Character Chosen For This Specific Scene. I have a longer post in my drafts about this moment actually, I might finally revise it and finally send it out into the world haha

Like you said, Shindou has great trust in Kirino - he trusts him to handle his conflict with Kariya, he supports his efforts unconditionally during the France arc - which is very sweet to see, but it's definitely on a more passive side compared to Kirino's actions when it's Shindou who needs the support - visiting him at his place, listening and talking to him, keeping him company. Obviously, relationships aren't a 1:1 equal effort at all times - but I'm not discussing their relationship in the dimension of realism, but the quality of its writing. This lack of Shindou's POV in their relationship creates a disparity in how it's perceived by the audience.

Currently, with the way they're portrayed, it really does feel like Shindou takes Kirino's support for granted. And like I said, i would have loved if this was grounds for conflict further down the line, that would end up strengthening their relationship. What's interesting is that in the CS anime, we get the moment where Shindou tells Kirino he feels reassured that he's with him, BUT in the game this exchange is different, specifically Kirino's reaction. Since the inalog CS game script released i can screenshot those lines, but i knew about them before from my trips around old ina11 tumblr.

I have this moment somewhere in my drafts- Their expressions during that exchange are pretty telling. Shindou says his line with a smile, but Kirino looks upset when he replies "have you?". It gives you an impression that Kirino doesn't believe Shindou when he says that. And how sad it is that he feels so distant from his best friend that he doesn't believe him when he says he missed his presence?

In the anime he doesn't reply but the face he makes expresses a similar sentiment, but more on the sad rather than angry side.

But in classic CS fashion this exchange never matters lol

I'm gonna wrap this up somewhat ungracefully since it's late and i'm sleepy: goodnight („• ֊ •„)੭

still thinking about them. they're both wearing green sob

i love this scene so bad, kirino walks up to this nobleman with no fear, tells him like it is and when kinako sees it she jumps in to support him, letting him do the main talking and have his moment while she gets to taunt the guy (and use her upperclassman as a shield skshfhfkjs). her support of kirino during this arc was SO sweet. she liked jeanne too, she connected with her as well but she saw that as much as she wanted to miximax with her, it was not something she needed. but kirino did, so she selflessly decided to help him achieve that :( screaming crying throwing up

truly the duo of all time, if chrono stone bothered to give them more moments together

[drowning-in-cacophony]

Fractures

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial Prompt 268: Fractured Forms

[Summary: what is fractured never heals back perfectly normal]

“Sorry,” he says.

She winces, a hand slipping past the cracks spiralling up one side. The fingers, the skin, phasing like a laser out of sync with a camera’s frames; even the ghostly touch burns acid against what shivering organs lie inside. It’s not his fault, not really. He didn’t know it’d turn out this way.

But he’d done it, so she blames him a little anyway.

“I’ll fix it,” he promises, a falsehood off his tongue. Sure, he believes it as honestly as his lungs crave air. She knows better. When you fracture something, it’ll never heal back the same it was before the crack. Her unbroken form is a long gone memory now.

He should have left her in the dirt. He should have left her.

“We need to focus.” Her voice raspy, her throat painful. Is this what it’s always going to be like now? She forces a hand away from her gaping insanity, something that never should have been possible and yet here she is. Dressed in borrowed clothes, her old jacket over the top – he’d kept that, and if she presses her nose to the collar, she thinks she can just about catch her old perfume. Freesia blooms, staining the fabric like the blood scattered on the hem. Freckles, haunting proof of the near past.

The clothes slip and phase into the fractures. A slippery slope their mere drape cannot fight.

His eyes sharpen, his nod a shaky mess. “Yes. Yes, we do. Do you… do you have an idea what we should do about it all?”

Her sigh tastes stale against the back of her teeth. Her tongue flickers, bone then gum then something foreign splitting against the inside of her cheek. He’d break reality for her, wrap fingers around something so stuck it’ll break as pulled, and yet it’s still at her altar he’d implore. That’s the whole driving reason, likely. Staring off into a world churning, and there’s only one mind that he could rely on to dig them out of this.

“After you show me what’s happened.”

“As soon as this bus turns up.” He cranes around her to check the winding road, empty of the hulking rectangular shape. His eyes distracted, she peels back her coat and peers down at herself. The fracturing of her form. An ugly wound, the eye-aching edges. The colours burn at her retinas, the impossibility of it all. Looking at it has her teeth on edge – or is that just the fissure growing against her mouth, a sensitivity to set them off? He shouldn’t have done this. Not if he was going to deliver her dripping in thoughtless selfishness.

Desperation, though. It does horrid, crazy things: he’d probably been a horrid crazy thing without her.

Not too much longer, the bus comes trundling towards them, bright yellow streaks to banish the gentle autumn chill on their ankles. Her coat falls over the crater, the casting of a shadow, the closing of her eyelids when she’d turned to that blissful dark before. They take a seat, his knee bumping against hers, and let the thing drive them into town. The landscape blurs outside of rain-spotted glass. His fingers twitch and brush against her leg. Fingertips scraping against her jeans like they’re wet sand, pieces of her bunching up underneath blunt nails.

If she looks at him, she’ll trace his next apology from his eyes. So when she winces, a split throbbing brighter on the threads of her sweater, she keeps looking at the window. The chipping of cheap rubber, the grey sky stretching out beyond.

“When we get to town, lead me through the epicentre,” she tells him, still not looking. “Show me all the damage. Then we can see what we can do.”

He’s close enough, in these small bus seats, that she can smell the thick constant of his signature scent, that chemical deodorant undercut by the mustiness of his coat. It’s still covered in a fine layer of dust from the Facility, mud decorating the sleeves like tatty embroidery from where he’d dug. His consequences will wash out with a good cycle around the machine.

He’s made hers permanent.

“I know you’ll be able to see what I can’t,” he says. Like it’s obvious, like she’s his saviour descending down from the sky. She’s always been able to see what he can’t; she’s always been the one he turns to. “We’ll find a terminal afterwards if you need it. I know a couple places – things have-” He coughs, a small thing into his coat, unable to muffle the awkwardness. “Things have changed a bit.”

Her reflection doubles as the bus begins to take a corner. An unwieldy thing that’ll still squeeze through the gap because it has to, and the angle has her face splitting. Her eye overlaps at the edges, an image in sympathy.

Her side gives a stirring throb.

His fingers give a sweaty, apologetic pinch.

The city rears up, a handful of engine growls and pin-tight corners later. They’re not the only ones to get off, an old lady with a cane scampering off before her, paying no mind to the shallow ditch cracked through the dirt. One of the new scars for her to greet. She stands underneath the flag of another bus stop, gazing out at a city bearing its own fractures. Torn through concrete, weeds already starting to determinedly claim back what they can. If they grew on her, maybe they’d knit her into some sort of togetherness, fix the mistake he’s left shattered throughout her form. It wouldn't be the same, however. She's never going to be the same.

He steps down behind her, his sigh coffee-dark in the strands of her hair.

“This way,” he says, holding out his hand to her.

Keeping one hovering underneath the fabric of her coat, acid splashing against her palm, she lets her other hand go to his.