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suddencolds · 17 days ago

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excavation of habit

hello! i honestly didn't think i still had it in me to thirst-write a fic, but on friday i watched the only 3 aired episodes of To Be He//ro X and had to whump the main character immediately 🫡

if you haven't watched the show yet, i highly recommend it! with that said, this fic can be read w/o any context if you do not mind ep1/ep2 spoilers.

(3.5k words, ft. a secret identity, a cold, a popularity-driven hero society, and a two-way character study)

—

It’s only a sore throat, at first. Barely registers, between the carefully choreographed morning appearances Miss J shepherds him through.

Something Lin Ling is learning is that she always has something new ready for him. We live in a digital age, she said to him the other day. There is no such thing as privacy. If you want to stay relevant, you need to make yourself seen. He had been puzzled about that, at first. He’d asked her: “Haven’t I already been to enough interviews this week?”

“I’m not talking about interviews,” Miss J had said, and then refused to elaborate.

That’s another thing Lin Ling is learning about her. Despite her curt attitude, she is only non-communicative when she thinks an answer is self-evident. He found out what she meant soon enough. People��s trust, as it turns out, relies just as heavily on Nice’s actions out in the open. He can nail every interview and every game show and every celebrity appearance, and it won’t be enough. This is part of staying relevant, too—that he masquerades himself as just an ordinary citizen from time to time, that he shows himself to be remarkable even in ordinary circumstances.

Last week, he waited in line at a coffee shop downtown for thirty minutes, even though Treeman has more than enough money and resources to get an assistant to get coffee on his behalf, just so he could—with Nice’s strength and superhuman reflexes—1) rescue a cup of scalding hot coffee from being nearly-dropped onto someone’s open laptop, and 2) offer to help the workers haul in a heavy shipment of new machinery.

Compared to normal hero work, these sorts of appearances aren’t really that hard. There was even minor press coverage of it—some girl caught it all on video and posted it to Weibo—and everyone in the coffee shop left charmed.

Well done, Miss J had said, clapping him on the back. The people need to know what Nice is like on a day-to-day basis, you see? If you wait in line for coffee like everyone else, it makes you just that much more relatable. And that had been that.

It does not occur to Lin Ling to ask the question until lunch time, when he swallows again and feels it again: that flash of pain. He reaches for the energy drink on the table—Double VVoltcharge, a brand Nice has recently been sponsored by, which they have excess stock of lying around—and finds that his throat is still hurting when he gulps it down.

“Miss J,” he says, setting the bottle back on the desk, in the exact corner he got it from. Makes sure his tone comes out sufficiently unassuming. “What was Nice like when he was sick?”

She regards him, scrutinizing. “Why are you asking?”

It’s a trap. She’s trying to gauge if anything is off, so he pretends not to notice. “Oh, you know, just—all this conversation about what he’s like as a normal person, like, what his coffee order is and everything, and I was like, huh, it’s strange that Nice drinks coffee. Like, since he’s so perfect and everything, I wouldn’t have been that surprised if I found out he never got tired.”

“Everyone gets tired,” Miss J says, rolling her eyes. “Even heroes.”

“Yeah, I guess so, or maybe he just liked the taste?” Lin-Ling-as-Nice shrugs. “Just wondering if he ever got sick, too, or if the public’s trust in him willed that away.”

“Of course he got sick,” Miss J says. “He’s not some kind of robot.”

“So what was he like? If I’m supposed to be him, shouldn’t I know these kinds of things?”

“Hmm.” Miss J seems to consider this for a moment, worrying at her lower lip. Lin Ling wonders if he’s happened upon a touchy subject.

He’s about to provide more justification—shouldn’t she be happy that he’s taking interest in Nice’s habits?—when she responds.

“...Excessively polite,” she says. “You know, always wearing a mask, coughing into his elbow, apologizing about it, that kind of thing. Sometimes he would even wear gloves or bring disinfectant spray around with him, if he really had to be somewhere. Though mostly he would stay in.”

“Ah,” Lin Ling says. “Okay. I guessed as much.” That doesn’t sound too difficult to emulate, on the off-chance that he is getting sick. The disinfectant makes sense, considering Nice’s borderline-obsession with neatness and cleanliness—the same tendencies Lin Ling feels as a static buzz at the edge of his consciousness more often than not, these days, whenever there’s clutter on the table or a cup is in the wrong place.

“You aren’t asking for any particular reason, are you?” Miss J says.

“Of course not!” Lin Ling says. “Just making conversation, is all.” He downs the rest of the energy drink, makes sure he doesn’t let the wince show on his face as it goes down.

—

The sore throat doesn’t get any better.

If anything, it gets worse. By the time dinner rolls around, Lin Ling finds that his nose is running, too, and even though he’s cleared his throat about a hundred times, it’s starting to take on a slight rasp. It’s strange and disconcerting to hear Nice’s smooth, low baritone marred by anything at all.

At the very least, he has confirmation now that Nice did get sick, even as a hero. The fact that Lin Ling is coming down with something now is not going to be the thing that exposes him as a fraud. That alone is a small comfort.

But the comfort ends there. Despite Miss J’s earlier descriptions, Lin Ling has no idea what kind of person Nice was when he was sick, aside from the usual obsession with cleanliness, and he has no idea how much the public knows about it either.

He isn’t sure how he’s going to break the news to Miss J. He’s never been—well, blatantly unfit for work before, ever since he took up Nice’s identity. Up until now, he’d like to think he’s been pretty good at taking up whatever she’s thrown at him. He still isn’t quite sure what her response to this might be.

There was one time, a couple years back in December, when he’d come down with something when he was still working the advertising job. The heat had gone out in his apartment, and he had picked up this bug he couldn’t quite shake, had just about lost his voice with all the coughing. He’d finally worked up the courage to ask, meekly, for time off work.

His old boss had said, Do you think that just because you’re sick, Nice doesn’t need any more advertisements? And then, The proposal for next weeks’ advert needs to be emailed to me by 7am tomorrow morning. If it’s even a minute late, consider yourself fired.

In the end, Lin Ling—well, Lin Ling had apologized, put his head down, and gotten back to work. The week passed, and the week after that. That was just the life he led, then.

Things are different, now that he’s Nice. Now that he’s someone the public cares about, someone the public might miss. Nice’s public persona is damn near spotless, which makes sense at the surface, seeing how Miss J keeps virtually everything about Nice’s life squared away under lock and key. She probably has a collection of all of Nice’s favorite things, listed alphabetically, for God’s sake; she probably picks out his damn cologne for him based on market trends. But Lin Ling knows, deep down, that part of it has nothing to do with Miss J at all.

Part of it is this: Nice was Nice before he was a hero, too. Before he earned the trust of the people, before he was taken under Treeman’s wing, he was probably good at all of this: at appearing effortlessly charming and likable, which are things that Lin Ling has never been in his entire life. These days, he thinks he’s just one misstep away from having the entire foundation to his fake identity crumble under his feet.

“Not to your liking?” one of the agents says, casting a pointed glance towards the braised pork and steamed eggplant in front of him. Like all of the other agents, he’s dressed in all black and wearing sunglasses.

“Ah… sorry,” Lin Ling says, tightening his grip around his chopsticks. “I was just lost in thought. It’s delicious.”

The agent nods, gruffly but not unkindly. “Then eat up.”

This, too, is foreign—having the agency be responsible for all of his meals, or even beyond that, having someone who cares whether something is to his taste. Lin Ling isn’t sure if it’s something he’ll ever get used to. He doesn’t have much of an appetite, but he makes himself eat, nonetheless.

The steam makes something shift in his sinuses, prickling, like the static edge of noise on the radio. He sniffles, leans forward to take a bite. Then the static edge sharpens into something he can no longer ignore.

“hh-hEh—!”

Remembering suddenly Miss j’s description of Nice, he ducks into an elbow. “—’IKkTSH’iIEw!—iihhh!”

The sneeze, when it finally comes, is surprisingly vocal. It’s the kind of sneeze you can hear the ending in, all high-pitched at the end, and it scrapes at his throat in a way that makes him want to cough afterwards. It sounds… well, markedly different from how Lin Ling is used to sounding when he sneezes. Then again, his voice has sounded different—less like his, and more like Nice’s, low and honeyed—ever since he made his first public appearance under the new identity. If he thinks about it, it isn’t all that strange that his sneeze sounds different, too.

He looks up, a little anxiously, to see if anyone’s noticed. Thankfully, the agent who stopped by earlier is on the other side of the room now, and none of them have so much as looked up at him.

He resumes eating. The rice is steaming hot, and he’s been cold all day, though he’s only known the agency to set the thermostat at reasonable temperatures. He wonders distantly if Nice was ever susceptible to the cold.

Aside from Miss J, there’s only one person who might know.

—

Lin Ling texts Xiao Yueqing after dinner, from the privacy of his room on the tenth floor. After the incident at the wedding, he’d resigned himself to never speaking to Xiao Yueqing again—he didn’t know where she was anymore, and she’d changed her number—Miss J was very clear about not leaving behind any digital evidence. There was no reason for him to contact him again.

But it turns out that she had Nice’s phone number memorized. She texted him from a new number a week later, with a photograph of a tropical white sand beach, the line of water blue and sparkling from a distance, and followed it up a cheery: weather’s rly nice here ✌️u should come visit sometime, when you’re not so busy :p

He knew it was her immediately. The relief he’d felt, receiving that text, was nearly crushing.

They’ve been talking on-and-off ever since: Xiao Yueqing sending him pictures she’s snapped of the different cities she’s been to, accompanied by offhanded comments on what she’s seen, what she’s found surprising, and what she’d like to see; Lin Ling texting her whenever anything particularly amusing happens on the job.

Now, he sends off the text with no small amount of self-consciousness.

LL: Quick question, if you aren’t busy

These days, he never quite knows which country she’s in, so he doesn’t know what time it is for her, though she’s usually pretty good at responding if she’s awake and if he’s asked her a question. This time, Xiao Yueqing responds almost immediately.

MOON 🌺: ?

Lin Ling pulls the tissue box a little closer to him and extricates one carefully—he’d nabbed one from the agency storage room right before Miss J had driven him back to the Hero Tower. That is proving to be a wise decision now, considering that he’s gone through nearly a quarter of the box already.

LL: What was Nice like when he was sick?

MOON 🌺: wdym?

LL: Like

LL: When he had a cold? assuming he did at least once when you were living together

LL: Idk did he act any differently or

MOON 🌺: ohh

MOON 🌺: haha. yea i think he did get sick a couple times

A beat. Xiao Yueqing’s typing indicator vanishes on the screen—probably she’s been pulled away to talk to someone in real life. Then, after a moment, it pops up again.

MOON 🌺: he was toooootally

Lin Ling waits with bated breath.

MOON 🌺: insufferable :/

He very nearly falls out of his chair.

Nice, insufferable? The very Nice who Miss J described as excessively polite, the very Nice who couldn’t seem to make anyone hate him, even if he tried? That Nice? Insufferable?

LL: Come again???

LL: You’re going to have to elaborate, I’m not following

MOON 🌺: well u alrdy know nice was like a bit of a neat freak

MOON 🌺: when he got sick it was like cranked up to 200%. he was soo fussy abt everything

MOON 🌺: brought him tea once out of pity and he nearly bit my head off bc i made the water 15 degrees too hot for the type of tea or smth??? like there’s no way u can even taste the difference when ur congested???

LL: Oh

Lin Ling doesn’t quite know what to make of this information. He’d never thought that Nice might be anything other than pleasant, especially to Xiao Yueqing. Even learning that his entire relationship with her had been scripted hadn’t changed that.

LL: Maybe it was too bitter for him?

MOON 🌺: extremely rude

MOON 🌺: dont start taking his side now

LL: Sorry, sorry, it was nice of you to make him tea

MOON 🌺: ur on thin ice 🫵

LL: I’m sure it was delicious

LL: Please go on

MOON 🌺: this other time i caught him rearranging all the medicine in the agency cabinet

MOON 🌺: like some crazy organization system based on strength and symptoms targeted and duration and wtvr

MOON 🌺: he was at it for like an hour. and when i asked him why he was there it turned out he was looking for

MOON 🌺: cough syrup and he just got distracted. but he got annoyed at me and insisted they had to be sorted for some reason and so i left him alone

LL: That’s heroic

LL:Do you think he was delirious?

MOON 🌺: honestly that would be giving him too much credit

MOON 🌺: hey

MOON 🌺: why r u asking abt this anyways =.=;;

He freezes. He isn’t quite sure how to justify himself, other than the fact that it’s natural that he’s curious about the very person he’s supposed to be replacing. But she’s right—usually, he would go to Miss J with questions like this. Not Xiao Yueqing, who he’s learning seems to be happiest when she’s avoiding thinking about the old Nice altogether.

LL: No particular reason

MOON 🌺: hmmm~

MOON 🌺: you just happened to be curious abt nice for no particular reason?

LL: He seemed so put together all the time

LL: I just wondered

LL: Wasn’t sure if he could even get sick in the first place

For a long moment, she doesn’t respond again. He lets himself think that maybe she’s gone for real, now, offline to haggle with some vendor or book some kind of ticket, or maybe she’s found someone to have lunch-or-dinner-or-whatever-meal-lines-up-with-her-timezone with. His head feels heavy. He’s more tired than he usually is at this time of night. Maybe he should call it a night early.

Then his phone vibrates in his hands. Onscreen, in bright white characters: INCOMING CALL.

He scrambles to pick up the call, nearly drops his phone in the process.

“You are not a very good liar,” is the first thing Xiao Yueqing says.

It’s his first time hearing her voice in weeks. It sounds a little tinny through the speakers, the higher frequencies a little harsher than the crystal-clear recording quality he’s used to from her advertising livestreams. He holds onto it like it’s a lifeline.

“Sorry?”

“I said what I said. Are you going to tell me how long you’ve been sick?”

For a second, Lin Ling feels a flash of anxiousness in his chest—could she tell, just from that one word of his? Did she know, even before he picked up this call? “...I don’t recall ever saying that I was.”

“Uh huh. So you’re just studying what Nice was like when he was sick for fun,” Xiao Yueqing says. “Just as a trivia question, nothing more.”

Lin Ling bristles. “I’m supposed to be him,” he says. Winces when he can hear the congestion in his—Nice’s—voice. “Learning about him is part of the job.”

“Yeah, so that’s why you texted me to ask about it. That’s the only reason.”

“I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t— s-seriously missing the mark…” Lin Ling really doesn’t want to be interrupted. His nose has other plans. This time, the action of turning to shield the sneeze with his elbow comes reflexively, even though there’s no one else here. “hH… Hhii-HH-GZSCHh-Hiiew! -hhIh… Snf-! IIh—!!!’KKTSHh-EwW!—-iiih…”

His face feels like it’s aflame. The phone speaker is right there, he berates himself. He really should have moved it away, who knows how loud those were on her end, who knows how close she was holding her phone to her ear, who knows what she might be thinking now—

“Bless you!” Xiao Yueqing says breezily, sounding utterly unfazed. Her voice has taken on a different turn, now—something closer to concern. “Man, you sound pretty rough. How are you holding up?”

“I’m not—” Lin Ling starts, and then breaks off into an undignified cough. “It’s just—”

His voice cracks on the syllable. As if there could be anything more embarrassing.

“You can say, you know,” Xiao Yueqing says, a little softer now. “However you’re feeling, you can say. It’s like I said. I’ve seen Nice sick a handful of times already. It’s not anything new to me.”

Lin Ling considers this for a long moment.

“...In that case,” he says, with another sniffle. “I’m–I’m probably getting a cold. I didn’t mean to bother you at—ahh, I don’t know what time it is there. I don’t even feel that siIIhh… iIhh’ii’DSHhH-EEew!—hh… snf… hhEh…!”

“Bless you again! Times two?”

“—-G’KTTSSHh—IiEEw! ugh… thanks.” He takes a tissue out from the tissue box, folds it in half, buries his face into it. “I’m sorry I’ve been doing that so much. It’s probably right next to your ear.”

“You sneeze differently from him,” Xiao Yueqing says, with a breathless little laugh that makes something tighten in Lin Ling’s chest. He can’t help but feel like he’s making a fool out of himself in front of his longtime—well, crush is probably the right word for it, just going off of definitions, but it seems laughably inadequate in the face of everything.

“Oh,” Lin Ling says, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I can fix that. How did he sneeze?”

“Don’t fix it,” Xiao Yueqing says, sounding gleeful. “I think it sounds cute.”

He definitely heard her wrong there. “Cute?”

“The more ways in which you differ from Nice, the better.”

He shakes his head, despairing. “I can’t accept that. If I happen to sneeze in public—”

“No one will notice any difference,” she says. “It’s just a sneeze. You’re so concerned about acting in character, but have you stopped at all to think about how you’re feeling? Like even once? Did your own health ever once factor into your concerns?”

The defensiveness he feels—the defensiveness he’s felt, this entire conversation—gives way for something else, something like resignation.

“...I don’t know why it would,” Lin Ling says, honestly. It’s more than he means to admit.

Xiao Yueqing makes a noise that’s somewhere between exasperation and understanding. There’s another moment of silence. Lin Ling wonders how it’s possible to feel so strangely exposed over a phone call, even though she can’t see him, even though this is their first time talking in weeks.

“I called to tell you there’s this herbal tea in the kitchen of your flat, in the third drawer from the right side,” she says. “It’ll work wonders on your throat, if it’s hurting. You’re still early into this cold, so it probably is, right?” Lin Ling doesn’t have the time to process how she knows this. “Oh, and there are extra blankets in the storage closet, to the opposite side of the elevators. Three, I think, but the yellow one with white stripes is the warmest. Text me if you can’t find them.”

He blinks, a little overwhelmed. “How do you know all this?”

“I did live there for years, whether I liked it or not. Oh, and Lin Ling?”

“Yes?”

“Take care,” Xiao Yueqing says, sounding sincere. The call goes dead.

Lin Ling sits there for awhile, his phone dark in his hands, contemplating the feeling in his chest, the strange weight to it.

Then he gets up to head to the kitchen in search of tea.

#sneeze fic #sneeze kink #snz kink #snz fic #(reposting bc i screwed up the formatting 🙇‍♀️)#if anyone is reading this and checks the show out i highly rec the orig cn audio! it's very nicely voice acted and i think #the eng subtitles are translated well :') tb//hx is by the same animation studio and same director as l//ink cli//ck #(though the genre and execution are very different) and i think the pilot ep is a lot of fun!!#((will blow up your inbox w weekly reacts if you'll let me))#now to the a/n ------> i feel a little shy posting fanfic on here again 😭 i don't expect anyone to be familiar with this show #i think it's been awhile since i wrote something totally for myself 🧎‍♀️ and awhile since any fandom sparked this feeling in me #it was nice to feel like thirst could take the wheel again #i wrote this bc ni//ce can get it. and by it. haha well. let's justr say. the worst cold ever #also i love xyq (🌙) very much... cannot decide if she has the kink here or if this is just her being her. up to viewer interpretation 🙂‍↕️#(full transparency: ep 4 came out while i was in the middle of writing this and i made the mistake of watching it 🙂#i am not acknowledging it)#i def intended to be meaner to LL going in but i guess i just like him 😭#ok posting this before i lose my nerve ‼️

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ad-hawkeye · 6 days ago

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i've mentioned this before, but it's so deeply funny to me that alkaid "mr. healthy world traveler" dislikes anything sour, spicy, or bitter. and that this is consistent across every world.

and each alkaid will usually try to avoid the topic or be polite about it. and yet SOMEHOW. it's prefect "i'm not like the OTHER alkaids" luminary of all people who is upfront and truthful. like? OKAY!

#lovebrush chronicles #alkaid mcgrath #cn spoilers #bc of the cn invite gif. BUT I HAD TO INCLUDE IT.#i'm convinced pl just loves to complain and grumble about everything. cannot believe he's being honest here though #props to him....? i guess? LMAOOO #addy rambles #im def missing stuff from the modern world. but theres SO MANY misc stories that take place in alkaids apartment #it would take me . Hours. to remember which. its about him liking sweet flavors tho HAHA #deerkaid says the same thing too

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vaguely-concerned · 1 month ago

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ingellvar must have so many strange off-putting little personal habits in their day to day life that they don't even realize come across as weird, especially if they haven't ever dated outside of the watchers much. in rye's specific case I think lucanis has a capacity for such immaculate 'sure my life is already so fucking weird this might as well happen' energy that I believe he'd be able to roll with the punches admirably given the time, but it really would be a situation like

(what was going on there was that rook was placing down some experimental wards, by the way, it's what he does to calm down before bed and if he wakes during the night. what with the necropolis itself being a liminal space of lf sorts on a cosmic scale, watchers take the additional liminal space between wakefulness and dreaming extremely seriously b/c they know there are things drifting through that would just love to get their foot/tentacle/conceptual spores in that particular half-ajar door that should not be allowed inside. or outside, I suppose, depending on your point of view. rook and lucanis are also experimenting with whether solid wards can help any with lucanis' weird post-spite dreams even if they can't do anything for the more mundane ptsd ones. third reason because in my worldstate they still live in the lighthouse after the game: unless gently dissuaded wisps will sometimes drift by while you're asleep and hover over your face curiously as they sense your mind doing stuff in the fade, and no one likes waking up on an eldritch sneeze with a well-meaning yet terrified wisp zooming about the room. important watcher novice 101 lessons.

blessed mental image of rye cross-legged on the floor, barefoot in his PJs with his hair down and no makeup, peaceably tracing out elaborate geometric shapes that somehow make your eyes scared when you look at them* while lucanis sits on the bed and reads out loud to both him and spite and occasionally sneaks some carnal looks at rook's fully unleashed curly hair and bare wrists & throat...... okay I think I've found the thing that will help me through the day thank you for coming on this journey with me)

*what is the paint he's using made out of and why is it such a deeply unsettling colour? don't worry about it! :) patented mostly well-meaning yet also borderline condescending mortalitasi hand wave of 'don't worry your sweet little non-nevarran head about it we both know you don't actually want to know. do not ask questions lest you learn the answers, especially if you're going to be annoying at me and freak out about it. let the things man was not meant to know stay unknown. unknown by you I mean I'm built different'

#*at myself through gritted teeth* good things or feelings are very much not happening right now but they DO exist and they are possible #I need you to take this on faith rn because I sure as fuck don't have any proof but source: just trust me i guess #think about spite wide-eyed listening to lucanis read while lucanis absently strokes rye's hair. I'm not sure if then you'll feel better #but it's worth a shot right. better track record than with anything else #dragon age #dragon age: the veilguard #oc: Ellaryen Ingellvar #lucanis dellamorte #rook x lucanis #rookanis #rye has only had one relationship with a non-watcher before and he didn't sleep over much in that one case #and also that was shitty anaxas ex-bf who liked having a pet mortalitasi but not to be reminded that said mortalitasi #was actually pretty threateningly powerful and not just an accessory for him. I don't think rye would have done much real #necromancy around him because he was in the 'pls love me love me love me I can be anything you want just don't go' mode #so he has never had to consider what his normal bedtime routine looks like to an outsider before haha #I wrote out a whole extra rookanis thing in the tags here but I'm forcing myself to make it a proper post at some point #because while I do not have the energy to examine it right now I keep writing novels in the tags because proper posts make me nervous #my brain going 'okay you can write the sincere thing. but only if you kind of hide it somewhere so it doesn't count #if I tuck it away sufficiently that means I'm not being annoying #and people won't be mad at me' (*sigh* okay what the fuck is that about. add that to the mountain of things that need unpacking #at some point you're not so tired the very thought of starting makes you nauseous)#what if everyone will think I'm stupid and cringe and pathetically earnest. on the cringe and pathetically earnest site #the only thing more unbearable than saying blorbo things in public is not getting to say blorbo things as they boil up within my skull #and I cannot seem to write fiction right now for neither love nor money so my normal outlet is clogged up #then... the power of the tag rant to make you forget yourself in the glorious rush of getting to say blorbo shit 'unperceived'.#anyway. what do you think spite would pick for them to read. that's a much happier place to rest the mind and I'd like to go there pls lol

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caligvlasaqvarivm · 11 months ago

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To elaborate more on the Pesterquest stuff -

Alternia is a hell world. It's shitty to live in, even if you're a highblood, unless you fit a very specific mold of person AND are lucky enough to be born of a high caste. Every troll character we care about is, in some way, fucked over by their relationship to their society; Eridan and Vriska get it the worst, having been forced to participate in the murdering side of things since they were young, but every lowblood is screwed and every highblood is made worse even just by their passive participation. Kanaya becomes less sympathetic because she seems completely at peace with the society she grew up in, and Feferi wants to enforce casteism, even if it's of a different flavor. Gamzee and Equius both hold genuinely casteist beliefs and attitudes, which slip out and alienate them from the people they care about.

Putting a friendship simulator into the middle of all this is... a choice, I guess. I'm not going to begrudge anyone for wanting that or liking that, but it's going to be inherently at odds with what Alternia is and is meant to represent, and thus, fundamentally at odds with many of the characters' arcs and even basic personality traits, so heavily are they influenced by the shit society they grew up in.

For a non-Eridan example, Karkat loathes himself in massive part because his society loathes him. He's kill-on-sight and lives in daily terror of death. He wears a symbol at all because not having one marks him as even more of a freak, even though he knows that that symbol is connected to the empire's biggest rebel, whose footsteps he is expected to follow. The reason he's so obsessed with being leader-y and earning his teammates' reapect, or the respect of anybody, is because he's so deeply insecure about whether or not he even deserves to exist.

If you soften Alternia to the point you can write a lighthearted friendship simulator in it, then that characterization... goes away. Karkat is no longer motivated by deep, overwhelming insecurities, which drive him to idolize the society that deems him unworthy, mistakenly believing that if he can find validation in that society, he'll feel less bad about himself. Instead, Karkat is just kind of an asshole!

It's the same way with Eridan. He and Karkat are equal and opposite in this way - while Karkat is marked for death by his society, Eridan belongs to the extremely privileged caste of sea dweller royalty - even moreso than Feferi, as Feferi is slated to be murdered by the Condesce as soon as she comes of age (and her ridiculous optimism is likely something she cultivated in outright defiance of this fate). But it turns out that being a sea dweller sucks shit, too, if you aren't the extremely niche type of person that society deems "correct."

Eridan is not actually casteist and genuinely likes his land dweller friends - and this is unacceptible. Not only that, but smaller "unacceptible" offenses are wrapped up in big ones - despite not liking murder and feeling guilty about it, murder is objectively the correct thing for Eridan to be doing, constantly, to the point of it being "all [he's] ever done practically," because if he doesn't fulfil the duty of his bloodline to be murdering lusii (and by extension, their charges, who are culled when their lusii die), EVERYBODY dies. The constant push-pull of trauma, societal expectations and obligations, the fate of the species, and the fact that he is inherently not the "right" kind of person for his society, are pretty much his entire character. He's basically a walking ball of anxiety and emotional turmoil.

So, again, if you soften Alternia to the point where you can write a story about Eridan wanting to see Shrek in a public theater (something he would not actually be able to peacefully do in canon Alternia - at least not without taking off his cape, hiding his fins, and going anonblood - as sea dwellers are considered ridiculously hostile to the point even Gamzee's nervous about being on the beach for too long), Eridan ends up being just kind of an asshole!

Pesterquest!Eridan is, and I cannot stress this enough, fundamentally not the same guy as canon Eridan. They have practically nothing in common, from the fact that PQ!Eridan is willing to do something for leisure, to the fact that he isn't widely feared and the movie theater doesn't empty out in a panic when he turns up, even down to the fact that he likes femme fashion (canon Eridan goes to Lengths to lean into masc fashion) and Shrek (canon Eridan is a hipster). Hell, even the fact that PQ!Eridan SMILES is a massive deviation from canon!Eridan, who has never once been depicted smiling, and probably hasn't for many sweeps.

Also that he has that much beef with Sollux when, canonically, the two had a lukewarm mutual dislike and didn't even bother interacting until Feferi was added to the mix and Eridan became mad that Sollux was dating her. He wasn't even casteist about him until then, and after, even Sollux and Feferi don't think he's casteist, they just think he's ashenflirting so he can get into a quad with Feferi. Like come on, if you're going to feature another troll in Eridan's route, 1) make it be Karkat, and 2) have Eridan cheat on you the whole time with Karkat like he does to Feferi.

Eridan is just overall a wild choice in a friendship sim - I can't even blame them for just writing an OC and putting an Eridan skin on top - because societally, Eridan isn't even supposed to have non-sea dweller friends. The sea dweller/land dweller race war is something the Condesce deliberately put into place in order to keep land dwelling nobility in line, and Equius cites it as one of the reasons he never got along with Eridan. Like, the very fact that Eridan talks to two land dwellers on friendly terms (Kanaya and Karkat) is a MASSIVE deviation from what he's "supposed" to be like, and a huge hint that he's not as casteist as he'd like to appear. You are genuinely hundreds, if not thousands, of times likelier to end an encounter with Eridan either orphaned or dead than as his friend. He's an unstable maniac, and there's a reason so many members of his team don't like him even though he's legitimately not casteist and they mostly seem aware of it (nobody really complains about or even notices Eridan's casteism by the time they're on the meteor - his contradictions are really obvious, and it's likely that they've more or less realized that he's full of shit).

Again, I don't begrudge anybody for wanting or liking PQ. Who cares, really. I'm just saying that as a canon discussion blog, there's not really any place for PQ because it's so far removed from canon that, like, there's not really anything meaningful to discuss about it. The setting and characters in PQ are fundamentally divested from canon, and not even in an AU way. And it's totally fine if that's what you like, but, yeah, like.

Was Eridan written well (where "well" = accurate to canon): no. Maybe he's fine as an OC with an Eridan Minecraft skin slapped on, but that's not my beautiful son, that's not my baby boy.

What did they get wrong about Eridan (where "wrong" = inaccurate to canon): all.

What route would I have written for Eridan: he shoots you with a gun and you die. And then maybe cheats on you with Karkat