#People built him up when not much was known and ignore a lot of his motivations

[linya333]

oh interesting thoughts. Because yes!

I tend to like Mary sue type characters so I am a little guilty of this. And also I often come to fandoms *through* fandom so for those I have very flexible views on characterization.

But! I almost can't read fic for my hero academia anymore. Which was my major fandom for about 4 years. *Because* I love the actual manga so much! It is just really obvious that a decent subset of authors only watched or read so much of the series and there are a lot of very fanon/ self insert versions of characters that feel completely different then their canon selves.

This is petty fandom salt, BUT... I've been chewing on this phenomenon that I've been calling "Fandom's Darling". It is related to things like "Author's Darling" and "Mary Sue / Gary Stu" and "Protagonist Halo" and all that jazz, where one character gains a peculiar narrative weight in a story.

"Author's Darling" is when a writer has a favorite character, and the world and all other characters sort of get... warped to put the Darling in the spotlight. It's most noticeable in TV shows with multiple writers, when a character you personally like suddenly has their previous characterization destroyed to make another character look good somehow. Every other character might become weirdly incompetent. The Darling's feelings are treated as The Most Important Feelings in any given situation. The logic of the fictional world seems broken past suspension of disbelief in order to validate this one character's beliefs or skillset or some other fantasy. And so on.

"Fandom's Darling" is what I've been calling the pattern where a fandom essentially crowns a New Protagonist for their fanfiction stories (it's often a side character rather than the original protagonist, but it can also happen to protagonists). This character becomes the self-insert for all sorts of indulgent fantasies, gaining special powers or backstories, and/or becoming the focus of whump, and/or hooking up with various hotties, starring in all sorts of tropey AUs, and so on. They're not always an obvious Mary Sue version of themselves, but the character's original personality and interpersonal relationships tend to get warped or dropped completely, and other characters tend to become a little flat. I call it "Fandom's Darling" because it's not just one self-indulgent fantasy fic (you do you! Have fun!) with characterization that I personally don't like (I have neither the time nor the desire to police anything, I am just venting), but rather a prolific mini-fandom of sorts revolving around this empty doll / fanon version of the chosen vessel character, so it becomes a little unavoidable.

I am salty about this (mildly frustrated) (imagine a soft sigh of disappointment before I go do something else) because you are FUCKED if you actually liked the canonical version of this character and their interpersonal relationships. It's almost worse than liking an obscure character that no one cares about. There's about a thousand fics starring your fave, but maybe only about a dozen of them are actually rooted in any kind of recognisable canon.

[wannaeatramyeon]

The Crew Heads with Reader: The Keeper

G/N. This is dumb. (Jake Kim, Eli Jang, Johan Seong, Samuel Seo). Masterlists

Same storyline: Bro Code | Dinner | Shopping | Television | Gacha | Board Games | Suits

If you turn left at the traffic lights, then continue on the path for another mile, you'll arrive at a block of apartments.

The facade is a little dated, the area unremarkable though safe. To the right is a sleepy high street, and the other side are more residential buildings.

It's peculiar in how unpeculiar it is. There's nothing that stands out-

Hold on.

That's not entirely true.

Dig further below the surface, past the stuttering lights of the convenience stores, the ajummas nattering on the sidewalk, the mom and pop diners favoured by the locals and you'll find that, in fact, the area is deeply peculiar and odd.

Maybe everything was built where ley lines connect.

It's a magnet for gangsters, congregating in groups and hanging around menacingly. Frequented often by freakishly strong people, whose monstrous strength strikes fear into the heart of many.

Yet here, they just loom quietly in the shadows, causing no harm and presence intimidating enough that there is very little crime committed under their watchful eye.

That's because what is known about this particular place to a specific and violent subset of people, is that it's neutral territory.

Peaceful territory.

No blood can be spilled. No gang fights. No violence.

Unless it's committed by yourself, of course. It's the number one unwritten rule amongst all the other unwritten rules.

(As agreed to and acknowledged by all parties. Thank you for your cooperation.)

When one of the men stretches your patience too thin and you want to slap them upside the head, then surely it's your god given right.

Not that you would but no-one could or would blame you.

.

.

Maybe oddest of all, however, is the collection of strays you have acquired.

One by one, they have come across your path and fallen for your questionable, awkward charm. Found you during their time of need, whether that is looking for someone who listens and empathizes, tells them to cut the crap, or can simply make them smile.

Managed to begrudgingly strike up a makeshift sort of truce with the other men, if only for your sake.

And you, well.

You're known as The Keeper.

.

.

For most who hear about The Keeper, it conjures up terrifying images of a beast of a man. Muscle-bound and able to snap necks without blinking an eye.

The Keeper is actually none of these things. Although you don't mind the rumours that swirl about you.

What The Keeper is, is very very bored and yawning, you scratch your left asscheek as you wait for your strays to select their lunch.

.

.

Look-

You don't get paid from your job for another two weeks and you really can't expect Sammy to foot the bill for everything.

He goes above and beyond to give you the best of the best, but if it was up to him, would give the other three straggler-ons nothing and tell them to fuck off.

It's only because of you that he reluctantly ignores the way Johan sneaks dog treats into shopping trips, Eli adding cute little dresses, and Jake an extra something or other for a member of Big Deal.

(Not that Samuel minds too much about the latter though he would rather shit in his hands and clap than admit it outloud.)

He pays for it all with little complaint - actually no, that's not right. He complains a lot and holds it over their heads (but not yours) at every opportunity.

But he pays.

So today's lunch is your treat.

Even if your meagre bank balance only stretches to four ramens and maybe a sad drink to share between all of you. It's the thought that counts, ok.

.

.

"Yenna has a cream for that," Eli says, clocking your itchy butt, "you want to borrow it?"

You shake your head no and tell him thanks anyway.

"Your hair looks good," you add with a smile, ruffling his blonde wolfcut mullet with the hand that was on your ass a second ago.

Eli doesn't notice, or decides not to comment, instead runs his own fingers through his hair self consciously and clutches his ramen (Carbonara Buldak - a rare spicy treat when he doesn't have to share with Yenna) tighter.

"You think so? I thought it might be too light."

"You could pull anything off."

You force the smile to remain on your face, not that you're bitterly jealous or anything.

"Thanks!"

.

.

"Buldak?" A familiar voice sneers and you both sigh and turn your head to the duo still standing in front of the display.

"What's wrong with Buldak?" Jake responds, frowning.

"Nothing." Samuel reaches pointedly for the 2x Spicy packet.

Jake's eyes narrow. 'Nothing, if you're a pussy' was silently insinuated by Sammy and heard loud and clear by Jake.

He replaces his Spicy Chicken Buldak and matches his choice to Samuel's.

"This might be too mild," Samuel adds nonchalantly, grabbing the 3x Spicy instead and wanting to one-up that bastard even with something as juvenile as this.

"You win. Hope your asshole burns, asshole." Jake gives him a playful smirk, returning the Buldak for a Shin Ramyun.

Samuel raises his eyebrows in surprise at Jake's choice. His face turns proud and victorious. "I'll be fine."

As Jake walks away, Samuel glances nervously at his own noodles.

.

.

"That jjajangmen smells good," you comment besides Johan, both cooking your ramen on the machine in the store.

On instinct, he moves closer, defensively, protecting his own food, shielding it from hungry eyes-

Then clarity hits. It's you.

"Wanna share?" He offers, willing all the survival instincts he has honed from the last couple years to be quiet.

"Nah, I'm good." You bump goodnaturedly into Johan as thanks and rest your head on his shoulder, waiting for the food to finish.

He shrugs and averts his gaze. "You're the one that paid," he mutters by way of explanation.

You see through his deflection and notice his ears turn crimson.

.

.

The five of you are a sight to behold.

Slurping noisily on noodles; Samuel bright red, beads of sweat down his neck as he tries to choke down his ramen, Jake and Eli chuckling together at that poor pathetic moron, Johan growing restless as his was finished a good while ago but nevertheless finding Samuel a source of entertainment too.

All sitting side by side, taking up the window seats that provide a perfect people-watching view.

The roads are almost bustling at this hour and the buzz of the streets spill into the store.

"That's The Keeper," A small group of men whisper to each other, bowing in respect to you as they pass through the entrance.

You smile back pleasantly, hiding your confusion. They must just be friendly.

.

.

Mid-mouthful, you spy a blonde walking on the other side of the road.

He's hard to miss, with a spring in his step and whistling. His suit is equal parts expensive, impeccably tailored, and tasteless.

Your eyes connect.

Goo Kim gives you a cheery wave, a loud, joyous 'HEY!' and calls out your name.

You wave back and his grin grows when he spots your companions.

His arm moves even more erratically and he cackles, the loud hyena shriek heard despite the distance and through the glass, when the Crew Heads grumble and flip Goo off.

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY THREE

in which you never make it past the stairs.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, single use of 'Y/N', upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 5.4k+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

23:00 ──────────────ㅇ─ 24:00

“Be honest with me, Eddie. Do you like her?” 

Eddie feels pathetic when all he can do is hum in response to Nancy’s voice over the line, mind moving in slow motion as looks down at you. You’re here, in his apartment and curled up on his couch. You’re here, and you’re his for twenty four hours, if he can just stop fucking it all up. 

He should have known the hum wouldn’t satisfy his best friend.

“No. I want a real answer,” she scolds, and he can imagine her frustrated scowl she wears as he gives her nothing. But he just feels defeated – he’s at a loss for words right now, “Don’t over think it – do you really like her?”

No. No, I do not just like her. I fucking love her. And I really shouldn’t, but I do, and I can’t change that. 

“I… I think I do.” 

“I just said to not think about it. It’s a yes or no question, Munson. Don’t… Fine, don’t be honest with me. Be honest with yourself. So I’m going to ask you one last time, and I recommend you don’t think about it, because every time you do, it seems like all you do is push her further away. Do you, Edward Munson, like Y/N?” 

“I do. I really fuckin’ do.”

More than Nancy could understand. More than even he understands. He likes you, more than just in the sense of what Nancy was referring to. He likes you as a person. He likes the way you challenge him, that you won’t take his shit. He likes the way you keep up with him even if you are motivated by a fire of hatred he’d built with his own two hands. He likes the way you clearly care about people, evident with how you treat everyone else. He likes the way you never cease to surprise him. He just… likes everything about you. Every single part of you he has been gifted with witnessing even when he’s undeserving, he fucking adores.

He never stood a chance. From the moment he first met you in that bar, it was always going to end this way for Eddie. All you had to do was lay your eyes on him, and his fate was sealed.

So, yeah. Eddie Munson likes you. Eddie Munson loves you. 

—

HOUR TWENTY THREE - 3:00 PM

You don’t even make it outside the apartment building.

You make it down the hallway, sniffling the entire way and ignoring the curious glances from the neighbor that walks past you. Clearly, the entire building must have heard your fight with Eddie. They probably even heard the debauchery you two had taken part in on his balcony beforehand. 

They probably think you’re insane. You don’t really care. 

Once you enter the stairwell, it all becomes a bit too much. Your head is spinning as you take a few of the steps before you give up, dropping down to sit on one and succumbing to the dizzying feeling with your head between your knees. It’s a lot – Eddie has given you a plethora of information, too much to be able to stomach all in one go but necessary to offer you all at once. 

He always loved you. He’d felt it too, that first night. All your blooms and all your vines hadn’t been what gave you away, but instead his own garden that had begun. And instead of tending to it as you had been prepared to with your own, he’d gone and drowned it. He’d taken away any glimpse of sunshine and cut off all nutrients, tried to starve the thing inside of him away and burn it with unnecessary hatred. 

It was all so unnecessary. So, so unnecessary. 

The girl you once were isn’t something of the past. You were foolish to believe there was any separation – between who you were the first night and now, between who Eddie was that night and who he was as you left him behind. You’re both still the same people, still in the same position. 

You never stopped looking for Eddie in every room you entered. You never stopped biting your tongue at the thought of starting a conversation with him, never stopped aching to reach out for him even as he filled the ocean between you two. Every single date you’d gone on after meeting him had been a flurry of excuses. 

No, not excuses. Comparisons.

Every single person that had shown you interest in the last year had been subjected to a side by side comparison to the man you couldn’t have. To the man you thought you’d held in the palms of your hands for a night, only to have it all taken away so suddenly. None of them drank whiskey and coke. None of them wore rings on their knuckles that they would fidget with when nervous. None of them reacted when you’d stumble beside them, none of them ever offered to foot the bills of the dates they took you on. And every time you noticed these insignificant details, you’d only think of moments with a certain long-haired metalhead. 

You’d spent a year convincing yourself that there was only bad. Spent a year ignoring that nagging in the back of your head, when Eddie had been the worst fucking actor you’d ever met. He was right – his affection had seeped out time and time again, had reached out and wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Most of the time, it was your irritation that led to any arguments turning into true fights. 

You weren’t innocent in this. The blame is shared. You’d both been victims, time and time again, of absolute self-destruction. 

When your phone rings, you indulge yourself in the hope that it’s Eddie. 

It’s Steve.

“Hello-”

“What the fuck happened?” Steve cuts right to the chase, ignoring your greeting, “What the fuck does Eddie mean the bet is off?”

He’d called Steve. Obviously.

“It means the bet is off,” you feel a fresh wave of tears choke you up, “We didn’t last the full twenty four hours. We lost.”

Steve’s scoff echoes over the line, “You’re telling me that with not even two hours to spare, the two of you now find it to be a bit much? It’s been twenty two hours, nearly twenty three, what harm is there in a few mo-”

“A lot of harm, actually,” you cut him off this time, in no mood to be scolded like a child. None of them knew what had happened. None of them knew how everything had changed so drastically between you and Eddie, “I- I called it off. It was me. I’ll come up with the money for you guys, just give me a few weeks.” 

Do they know about Eddie’s feelings? Had you been the only one so oblivious to being caught up in a lie?

“Hold on, hold on,” Steve tries to soothe you, but it does nothing. When a sob escapes you, the dam finally breaking through, he grows even more panicked, “What the actual fuck happened?”

You don’t answer the question. “Can you come pick me up?” 

“I- Excuse me?”

“I need a ride,” you gasp out, swiping rapidly at your face to hide the evidence of your breakdown as you can hear someone walking up the stairs, “Can you- Christ, Harrington, can you just come pick me up?” 

More neighbors. More nosey glances. Fuck them. 

“No.” 

You almost think you heard Steve wrong. “What?”

“No, I will not be coming to pick you up.” 

“Why?” 

Your chest is aching with every sob you withhold. Trying to cling to composure, trying to cling to the fact that the worst was over. The wound could heal. The wound had to heal. 

“Tell me what happened,” Steve demands, “Tell me what the fuck has happened over the last twenty something hours, and I’ll come pick you up. But if you don’t tell me, I’m tossing my fucking keys in the canal and you can be  stuck with him for the rest of your life for all I care.” 

And therein lies the issue. You don’t want to tell him. Suddenly, you’re something animalistic, the memories of the last twenty three hours becoming something of such substance to you that you wouldn’t dare to part with them. You want to hold each moment, each stepping stone along this rocky path, close to your chest and swipe out at anyone who gets too close. You need to cradle them with care and dissect each one for your own sanity, picking apart all the times you were too blind to see the truth. 

You make your decision. The animal inside of you, hiding amongst vines of affection and blooms of hope, decides. “I can’t.” 

“You can’t, or you won’t?” 

You both know the clear distinction, and you can’t be bothered to care as your breathing finally evens, the sobs settling themselves down.

“I won’t.” 

It’s quiet for a while until you hear Steve finally laugh in disbelief. A sharp breath out at first, that grows more into a chuckle that you know pairs with him shaking his head.

“Jesus,” he whispers, “I… okay. I get it. I don’t know what the Hell went down, and I won’t force you to give me a play by play,” he pauses, and you can hear the but before he even says it. It stretches over that pregnant pause, silence only broken up by static from the phone line until he speaks again, “But you’ve got to give me something to work with here. Eddie randomly texts me that the bet is off and to tell the others, and then I call you just for you to start sobbing-“

“He only texted you?” you interrupt the plea, brows furrowing, “He just… He texted you and no one else? Did he call Nancy?” 

“What? No. I’m the only one who’s heard anything from him.” 

You stare at the wall across from you, gaze digging right into one of the cracks filled with dust.

Fuck it.

“He told me he loves me, Steve,” you begin to open up, prying that memory from the claws of the animal. It doesn’t go down without a fight, screeching as you say the words, protesting offering even the smallest of breadcrumbs to your friend. You don’t have to tell Steve everything — but you can tell him this. “He said he never really hated me, and that he loves me.” 

There’s nothing for Steve to say. You don’t know if it’s because they all really did know, saw what you couldn’t, or maybe if Eddie had already admitted this to the others. But in his honesty, he’d only mentioned Nancy knowing. And you’d seen the twist of his lips, the pinch of his eyes during that recount; you doubt anyone else knows. 

He’d been prepared to take this secret to the grave. To keep it, even from you.

“I liked him,” you admit in that quiet stairwell, almost forgetting Steve was on the other end of the line, “God, I- I just liked him so much that first night. I wanted to waste all my time getting to know him. I know you all saw it after he went cold.” 

How I searched for him in every room. How I’d always ask if he would be at functions. How I’d gravitate straight to him on the rare occasions he was there. 

You continue on, your animal within finally stopping its petulant protests. It seems to understand; there’s a balance to be found. Admitting this doesn’t mean losing Eddie. It could mean more, “Even when he started being a fucking asshole, I wanted him. I always thought I’d just get him out of my system one of these days, but I didn’t. Not even after tonight. I… I like him.” 

It’s not love. Not quite what Eddie had felt, because his plan had worked to some extent. You’d been held at an arm's length for so long, the like never had the chance to grow into love. 

“So go get him.” 

It’s the last thing you expected from Steve. “What?” 

“You like him. Present tense,” he parrots your words back to you with emphasis, “So go get him. You said he loves you, kid. And sure, there’s a lot to work through there, but the bet isn’t off yet. Texts can be deleted. I can take a few hours to come get you. Just…” you listen to his deep breath over the phone, letting his words settle within you, “What’s the worst that can happen? You guys hate each other? I think we’re a little past that now.” 

“Yeah,” you find yourself laughing, only half amused, “We are kind of past that.” 

What is the worst that can happen? 

“At the very least, tell him how you feel,” Steve continues on in such a calming tone, your chest clenches, “Because I’m sensing that you haven’t. Or else you wouldn’t be sitting on the phone crying to me, and Munson wouldn’t be impulsively texting me.” 

“It wasn’t that impulsive,” you hum, leaning your cheek against the cool railing beside you, still mulling over your options. Really, option. Singular. “I made it very clear that it was over.” 

Steve lets out a groan, and you smile despite yourself, “You sound like you just broke up with the poor dude without ever even dating.” 

“I kind of did.” 

“Then go fix it!” Steve’s exclamation makes you lift your head again, “He’s an asshole, okay? We can agree on that. He’s fucking dumb, and he’s an asshole, and he definitely isn’t some dreamboat in my opinion-“

“You know, I have a bone to pick with you there,” you’re already standing up, heading inclined towards the door you had just burst through, feet heavy as you try to dig within yourself for just a little bit of bravery, “Why the fuck would you say what you did that night? When I met him. You told him I’d never go for him.” 

“I didn’t think you would. I mean, you didn’t jump my bones when you met me, and I am a goddamn dream boat.” 

“Steve Harrington,” you take the first step, suddenly determined, “You’re a fucking idiot. I kind of hate you right now.” 

“More than you hate Eddie?” 

“So much more.” 

“Then go tell him that,”  Steve instructs as you take a few more steps, back up on the platform for Eddie’s floor already, “Make me the bad guy, I don’t care. Tell him he even gets a free punch.”

“I get a free punch first,” your free hand reaches out to grab the door, gripping but not pulling. Not yet, “We’ll see if you’re still such a dreamboat with a broken nose.” 

It’s all teasing, but Steve can tell your anger beneath it all is very real. It isn’t something all consuming or dangerous, but it is well deserved for what he’d put you and Eddie through. All with one little throwaway comment. 

“I deserve that,” he affirms, “I really, really deserve that. Scout’s honor that you’ll get your punch when I pick you up in… say, an hour?” 

You nod, and start to pull on the door, “See you in an hour, Harrington.” 

You hang up before he can say another word. There’ll be time for more scolding later, for more genuine conversation at the hand everyone had in all that went wrong. But for now, you only have one boy on your mind. 

And apparently, he’s in love with you. Has been for a long time.

You race down that hallway faster than you had when you’d left, determination throwing you forward with each step as you grow closer to apartment 2C. You raise your fist when you come face to face with Eddie’s front door, still terribly insistent and strangely brave, when suddenly — it opens up.

“I-“ you squeak out, fist still frozen and poised in the air. 

Eddie has never looked more frazzled. He’d been clearly running his hands through his curls, frizzing them up nearly comically. His eyes are red from tears, and if you look close enough, you can see an indent in his bottom lip from his teeth digging in.

Your eyes meet his, and all he can do is sigh your name. 

You take a few steps back, and he follows. You tell yourself you need the distance, because without it, you might throw caution to the wind and just kiss him again. That’s not what you came here to do – before you can ever kiss him again, before you can put not only yourself but him through that, you need to tell him. 

Your heart is ready to burst out of your chest, and you repeat Steve’s words over and over in your mind.

So go get him.

What’s the worst that can happen?

“I thought you were leaving.” 

His voice is a broken whisper, gravely from the tears he’s no doubt been succumbing to since your exit. You search his face for any sign that he might still be far away from you, still in his head, but all you can see is that he’s here. 

He’s here, with you, in this moment. 

“I never made it down the stairs,” your voice cracks terribly, croaky and shaking until you clear your throat, “I- Steve called me.” 

“I texted him. To let him know the bet is off.” 

“I know.” 

It’s awkward, but without ice. It’d be impossible not to be, even when every glance into his eyes just fills you with warmth.

There will be time to be angry later. With Steve, and with Eddie. One day, you’ll spare the time to mull over the way he continued to treat you even after his own personal revelation of how he loved you. You should pay more attention to it now, but every time your mind tries to go there, it just becomes overcast with what’s happened on this night. 

You can’t erase the past. Good or bad. Both exist, and both fuel you as you take one more step back and support yourself against the wall across from his door, just as you had when you’d first arrived twenty three hours before. 

Eddie takes several deep breaths before he follows you. You don’t have to say a word out loud; he’s completely in tune with you as he leaves his front door wide open and walks to stand beside you. Only then, when you’re both on the same side of the hallway, do you both slide down to sit on the floor. 

“We need to talk,” you sigh, watching the way your knee knocks into his. Gentle brushes, soft touches. There’s no room for any thorns here. Your vines have wrapped their way around not just you, but him as well, and there’s far too many flowers thriving along them to even think of such dangerous pricks to linger, “I know what I said. I know that I left. But…” But I can’t stay gone. I can’t let it end like this. I can’t do it, not like this. “I never made it past the stairs.” 

His shoulder bumps yours, forces you to look at him as he offers a sad smile. He can tell you're nervous, can tell that you’re the one who’s slipping away into their mind now. 

“Hey,” he says softly, “It’s just you and me. Just two people who hate each other’s guts, remember?” 

“Except we never did,” you remind him, finally looking down to pick at the frays of your jeans, “We never hated each other’s guts. And that’s… the issue? Maybe not issue. It’s not a problem to be solved. But, you were honest with me, and I think I need to be honest back.” 

I need to say more than just no.

“I like you, Eddie,” you finally spit out, craving relief from the admission. But it won’t come, not quite yet. Not until he hears your full truth, “I liked you from that very first night. I just- when I was in this room full of people I didn’t know, not well enough at least, you took one look at me and decided that you’d sit by my side. You’d be my friend. I don’t care how the night ended and I don’t care that you went back on your gut reaction,” you take a sharp breath, and finally relief finds you as you whisper, “You chose me. That very first night, you chose me. And I want to figure out how to get back to that, not pretending to hate each other.” 

You hold no expectations for how Eddie will react, especially given that your confession was seemingly less monumental than his, but his hand coming down on your knee surprises you all the same. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, and you believe it. There’s no hesitation in your belief this time. It goes without saying that you know he’ll probably spend the rest of his life sorry, trying to make up for the last year. 

You decide to put your hand over his, let your palm press into those knuckles before you move to slip your fingers between his, “I don’t want things to go back to normal. I just want us to be able to start over.” 

You catch his smile out the corner of your eye, “Yeah? That’d be pretty nice. Maybe this time I won’t be such a dick.” 

“And maybe this time I won’t throw a glass at your head,” you add, leaning into him a little, feeling his grip on your knee tighten with affection.

He shakes his head briefly before throwing it back against the wall, “I deserved that. When I deserve it, you are always welcome to throw a glass at my head.” 

“That’s an expensive way to deal with things.” 

“We’ll get the glasses from Goodwill.” 

Both of you are softly laughing when your head meets his shoulder. You should probably be talking more properly, but you don’t. You decide to just enjoy this time with him. You have an hour left.

When the door to the right of Eddie’s opens up, you both straighten up a bit, and you watch in real time as the embarrassed blush lights up across Eddie’s cheeks at the sight of his neighbor — Mr. Jenkins.

He pauses, and God you wish he hadn’t, because now your insides are turning with your own self-consciousness. He takes in the sight of you two, sitting out in the apartment building hallway, hands entertained and heads leaning on one another, and then he chuckles.

“Good. Glad you two kids figured it out. Now please, for the love of God, keep those activities private. Indoors. No more balconies.” 

Eddie has burned past pink, now a brilliant red. You’re surprised when a soft giggle escapes you, the ridiculousness of everything that has happened finally hitting you. Eddie turns his head to look at you with wild eyes, a silent scream of traitor before he faces the elderly man again.

He clears his throat, “Right. Uh, of course. Sorry, Mr. Jenkins.”

He grumbles a bit as he turns away from you two, still smiling as you can hear the faint “Yeah, yeah,” of his words.

The moment you two are alone again, you can’t help it — you burst into laughter.

Genuine and much needed laughter fills your lungs, expanding them beyond capacity as you finally let yourself just let go of the night. All the fights, all the stress, all the misunderstandings, and all the honesty seem to melt like butter from you, the tension leaving your soldiers for the first time in what feels like hours. You like him, you like him, you like him. No matter what happens after this, you like him. Just as you had that first night. Nothing can really take that from you; all the miniscule details can be worked out later. Any arguments and any fights that need to be had can be handled tomorrow. For today, you like Eddie Munson, and that’s enough.

“It’s not funny!” 

“Oh, it’s fucking hilarious,” you gasp out as Eddie gently slaps your shoulder, “That poor old man fully saw your dick.” 

“I’ll never be able to face him again,” Eddie deadpans. You don’t catch his adoring smile as you only laugh harder, “I’ll never be able to know peace in these halls again.”

You quiet down your giggles, taking your hand from his to swipe at the tears of joy that had gathered. Your stomach aches in the best way, finally, “Should’ve kept it in your pants, Munson.” 

“Says the minx.” 

It’s nice. Just as you had thought — there would be a time to laugh about it. And now, as your temple falls back against Eddie’s t-shirt and he snakes an arm around your back, is the best moment you can think of. 

The two of you let silence settle again. All you can hear is the other’s breathing, deep and calm and assured breaths that don’t whisper of any secrets or any panic. It’s peaceful; it’s absolute bliss. 

“God, I need a nap,” Eddie mumbles as he trails a finger in an insistent circle over your shoulder. Gentle and feathery light, repetitive enough to almost lull you to sleep, “How do other people do this shit?”

“I don’t know, but a nap sounds heavenly,” you nearly moan. You can picture it now, wrapping up in your usually mediocre comforter back in your dorm room, and your uncomfortable mattress has never been more romanticized.

Eddie stares at his open door for a second, thinking, “Is, uh, Harrington coming to get you?” 

You only nod against his shoulder.

“Did he tell the others that the bet is- or was- or-“

“No,” you laugh as he fumbles over the specifics, “He never told the others. As far as they know… We made it.” 

Eddie sighs in relief, “Oh, thank God. I did not want to have to pay any of those fuckers.” 

“They never would have let us live that down.” 

“Never.”

Another lapse of silence. There’s times where you think Eddie might get up, might hold out his hand for you to take and drag you into his apartment again. Maybe try and let you two squeeze one last nap in, considering the way you’re already half unconscious on his shoulder. But he never does. The two of you sit in the comforting silence of that hallway, backs pressed to the wall and bodies leaning into each other’s gravitational pull. 

Getting him was never really about having another hard conversation. Just making sure he knew that his feelings were returned, to remind him of the change that had happened within you over these last twenty three hours, was plenty enough for you. 

“Hey,” Eddie whispers. Neither of you have a clock, but you can both feel the time running out, “I, uh, want to say one last thing before this is all… over.” 

“What’s up?” you mumble into the material of his t-shirt. The one that your nose nearly turns and buries into, trying to enjoy that last bit of boy that has lingered after him since the beginning of the night. 

“I need you to know I didn’t tell you everything just for this to happen,” he begins to explain, “Like, I never loved you with the intent of being loved. I actually love you without ever expecting you to reciprocate, whether it’s embarrassingly admitting you have a crush on me-” one of your hands limply comes up to hit at his chest in a pathetic lack of strength, which makes him pause to chuckle, “-or if you came back here and said that you were… like, wildly in love with me. Or you could have even said you never really want to see me again. That was never the point.”

“What if I came back just to say I forgot something? Like, ‘oh, hey, I just forgot my chapstick’?” you’re nearly slurring your words in fatigue, but still smile at the thought of doing that just to fuck with him. 

“I’d probably lie and say that there’s not a single tube of chapstick in that apartment,” he admits, his palm now just cupping your shoulder, drinking in the privilege of touching and holding you this way as he gives it a squeeze, “And then I would have shut the door, and started searching like a mad man for that fucking chapstick, and never would have told you once I found it.” 

You snort, “Keeping my chapstick? Pervert.” 

You shift your head to just barely peer up at him, and you see those fucking dimples. You can’t believe there was a time where you didn’t notice those. 

“I’m serious, though,” he lets his smile falter just a bit, but those innocent indents don’t, “You could still say the word, tell me you don’t mean it and you don’t even like me in the slightest, and it’d be fine. No hard feelings, truly.” 

He’d just succumb to the terrible fight he’d been running from this entire time. From the moment he had met you. He’d succumb to his worst fear and let himself burn for you, even if you didn’t burn with him. 

“Eddie.”

“Hm?”

“Stop being such a fucking idiot,” you chastize as you lift your head from his should. His arm remains around you, not even slipping, “Stop trying to talk me out of liking you. It’s done – I like you. End of story.” 

His smile turns into something sad for a second, something almost sour, before it really does fall completely. Only the ghosts of those dimples remain for a moment in your memory. Suddenly, you get what he means. He isn’t trying to deter you, only remind you of what you need to consider.

It’s not just another moment of insecurity. 

You probably should be putting up more of a fight. All the damage done, both tonight and in the last year, can’t really be erased in the matter of an hour. It’s a whisper of it’s okay to take time to heal, a true white flag of surrender being waved from across his ocean. 

Vines, oceans, fires, glass walls – all of the metaphors have finally turned trivial. 

“I might need time,” you give in just a little bit, knowing it’s for the best, “I… I mean, everything can’t really change so quickly. Maybe we give it a few days. A few weeks, if we have to. We…” 

“Just spent twenty four hours together, and could use the time apart?” he ends your sentence for you in a joking tone, but you both know it’s true. 

The time apart would not only do you well, but answer the burning question on both your minds – does this last past tonight? 

Right now, you’re sure it does. But it’s possible you’ll return to your dorm room, that Eddie will spend some time in his apartment without you hovering around every corner, and that it could change. That is entirely possible. 

It’s something you almost need to mentally prepare yourself for. 

“Yeah,” you rasp out, almost choked back up at the reality of it all. You blame it on the lack of sleep, “Yeah, we could probably use some time apart.” 

Saying it out loud goes against every gut instinct you have. 

“Yep,” Eddie almost seems to also be gritting those words out, tongue almost more stubborn than yours, “Time apart. Just to think. Not… uh, not forever. Not unless we decide it needs to be.” 

You sound like you just broke up with the poor dude without ever even dating.

How many couples have had this exact conversation? How many have promised temporary time apart, only to never see each other again? 

It strikes a little bit of childish fear in you, but Eddie’s arm is still warm and heavy around your back, his palm rubbing up and down along your bicep as if he can sense all that doubt that you battle with. 

It’s okay. Leaving for now is not leaving forever. Besides, you once lived a life without Eddie Munson in it. You can live that once more, if needed.

You like him. You liked him that first night, and you like him now. You like to enter rooms and know his eyes seek you out, you like to know that every time he crosses your mind that there’s a possibility that you’re also plaguing his thoughts. Time, distance, and hatred have never been able to change that.

“I-” you start to say, more vulnerability metallic on your tongue and more honesty poised for his taking, when you’re both cut off by a familiar figure coming down the hallway. 

It’s not a neighbor, not another set of judgmental eyes. 

“Hey there, love birds. Glad to see you didn’t kill each other.”

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[rdr2gifs]

''the morning light, when it comes to me, it was there but I could not see''

Arthur’s life was profoundly shaped by his self-hatred, lack of self-worth and disbelief in the existence of kindness in a seemingly dark and cruel world.

I strongly disagree with the statement that Arthur only became a ‘’better’’ man after being diagnosed with tb. His struggle with his true/inner self is apparent as early as chapter one. ‘’You are not who you think you are, sir… which is lucky’’

He has lived a rough life, raised by criminals and surrounded by violence ever since he was born. It was installed in him early that his value lied within being a violent enforcer and he has lived this life since, knowing nothing else. As a highly aware person, Arthur's actions weight heavy on his soul. He accepts that his actions have consequences. He knows that a person who has caused so much suffering is not meant to have happiness in life. His way of life has caused him to believe that he is not worthy of love or redemption. He doesn’t want to believe that a person like him could be capable of any good. (a thing to note here is that imo, Arthur’s actions near his death weren’t attempts at redemption but rather a strong desire to do right and possibly be his true self.) This is why he keeps living as he does as it’s the only thing he’s ever known, it’s the thing that brings him profit, praise from the person he looks up to and he is already damned so he might as well continue living this life anyway.

The internal problem Arthur faces is that this violent, cruel way of life doesn’t align with what I’d call his true self/ideals. He is torn between the harsh reality he has known and an unconscious yearning for righteousness/love. To be able to carry on with his actions he must enforce certain ideals within himself, such as: I am bad, ugly, nasty, ignorant, mean etc. He also decides to see the dark side of reality, telling himself that the world is a grim dark place and this is just as things were meant to be. This is why he feels so uncomfortable being complimented for his good deeds, because a bad rotten person like him should not be able to do good. It breaks the image he has built for himself and he doesn’t want that happening. This can be seen a lot during the ‘’Money Lending and Other Sins’’ missions where he is unusually mean (even for his standards) to each of the debtors. Imo, he acts this way because he must truly convince himself of being a terrible man to be able to carry out a job which revolts him so badly. In the last debt collecting mission with J. John Weathers, it can be seen in his face/expressions how much he is struggling to put on a tough, uncaring, heartless act. He needs to maintain a ruthless persona to survive in the world he knows. He must convince himself of his own cruelty.

''Forgive me, but that's the problem. You don't know you.''

Contrary to Arthur’s beliefs, he is a naturally kind-hearted person who is unconsciously drawn towards kindness. And yes, even before he was diagnosed with tb. This can be seen in the people he respects the most and, in his willingness to help strangers (notice how he often does unnecessary acts of service for total strangers such as: carrying their things, holding out hands etc. even though they had already troubled him). Despite the life he has lived, Arthur does not enjoy violence, he does not enjoy hurting people. He doesn’t want to dominate over others. He thinks mostly about others and not about himself. This fact alone is very telling of his character.

He writes about Charles, a man who he truly respects: ‘’He’s a better man than me. He does not need to think to be good. It comes naturally to him, like right is deep within as opposed to this conflict between GOOD↔EVIL that rages within me.’’ A man who is not struggling with his inner self would not have written this. To me this clearly implies an inner desire to be a better man. He writes about his mentors: ‘’I love Dutch like a father, but in many ways, I love Hosea even more. He’s kind and fair and like a human being. Dutch is something else.’’ Clearly showing a preference for Hosea who is of a more gentle nature and shows genuine kindness. Unsurprisingly, these are the people who see through his dumb/though act and encourage him to drop it.

When he comes across Brother Dorkins for the first time, he writes: ‘’(he)was one of those innocent people who make you feel better about human beings and about yourself a little. Must be odd to see all that goodness in the world. Place always seemed dark and brutal to me.’’ Expressing how he does not see goodness in the world, implying lack of good examples/kindness/good experiences in his life. Yet, the monk leaves an impression and imo, this encounter (seeing genuine goodness) disrupts Arthur’s perception of what the world truly is. ‘’Just as evil begat evil your whole life long, so good may begat good’’ (what strengthens my belief in this, is the following, symbolic scene of Arthur realising the consequences of his actions right after picking up a crucifix. He was aware of them before sure, but is unable to truly ignore them now having seen it right in front of his eyes). If only Arthur was presented with more examples of goodness in his life.

''You have it in you... I can tell!''

His desire to do as much good as possible after realising he won’t live long is instant. This would not be the mindset of someone who did not already possess kindness in his heart. ‘’Know glory and forget about shame.’’ Arthur’s shame and self-loathing caused by his previous actions were what was holding him back from allowing kindness into his life. Knowing that he has limited time left has not made him into someone he wasn’t before. The diagnosis was a catalyst, allowing him to embrace that love/goodness truly does exist and accelerate the process of chipping away from the persona he has made for himself. This was a newfound understanding for him as in the past he was rejecting any notion of kindess. In himself and perhaps the whole existence of it. ‘’You keep hidden all that matters, even from yourself.’’

After being diagnosed, he writes: ‘’What kind of a man have I been? What kind of a man am I? What world is this we live in? A land of fury or a place of love? Am I being prepared for eternal damnation? Am I past any kind of saving? Is that all fairytales? Man ain’t got much good in him. I ain’t got no good in me… I don’t think and yet I see goodness. I see it. If not in me, in good folk. In Abigail and her love for Jack. In that silly monk. In Downes, I guess. Begging not for himself but for the poor, even though he was near starving himself. Maybe I don’t want salvation. Part of me has always longed for death.’’ This entry perfectly shows how deep Arthur’s self-loathing goes and just how much it has damaged him. As his journal allows a look into his true feelings, he truly does not see a single good thing about himself. He knew for a long time that the way he lives is detestable but he could not let go of it. Not because he didn’t want to, but because it’s all that he has ever known. He didn’t believe in anything else. This sudden acceptance of goodness has allowed him to see clearly, which was obscured from him before, and for the first time, enabled him to act free of past regrets for what is right.

⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪

Arthur’s redemption is not about becoming a good man. It is about finding the strength to change and recognise your true self despite a lifetime of self-loathing and breaking free from destructive beliefs of the past.

In Arthurian legends a stag is a symbol of the unending quest of spiritual knowledge/enligtenment

[woozisguitar]

seungcheol and call it what you want by Taylor swift.

HAPPY 200 FOLLOWERSSSS!!!!

SDFGHJKL its my favourite ts song im so EXCITED for this!! really hope you like it also I should really really think of a better than idol x non!idol😭 also ps: I kinda want to write something similar like this for 'the smallest man who ever lived' please send in suggestions who I should write it for!

requests for 200 celebration post: open (but slow updates!)

warnings: there's a little suggestive, implied part after 'I want to wear his initial...' bit, also mentions of anxiety

My castle crumbled overnight I brought a knife to a gunfight They took the crown, but it's alright

all it took was a rumor. one moment you were laughing with the love of your life, and the next, he was pulled away to investigate the ‘alleged’ rumor. but you knew seungcheol—knew him better than you knew yourself sometimes. you knew he’d never deny if outright asked about being with you, and that scared you. it felt a lot like entering the battlefield only to find that everyone has a gun and you only have a small dagger to fend yourself with. but despite this fear, you knew you would be alright.

All the liars are calling me one Nobody's heard from me for months I'm doing better than I ever was

when seungcheol confirmed the two of you were indeed dating, the media outlets went crazy. it's not every day that an idol decides to date openly, but seungcheol was always known for loving loudly. both your phones went off like crazy almost 24/7, and you decided it was for the best to ignore everyone except your close family and friends. after all, all they wanted was a piece of information about your relationship to sell to media outlets for a minute of fame.

'Cause my baby's fit like a daydream Walkin' with his head down, I'm the one he's walkin' to So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to

a few days after this, while the tides were still high, you decided to go back to work. you couldn’t let this affect your career, and more than that, seungcheol would never let any aspect of his life affect your own. every day, he would drive you to work, wait till you were inside the building safe, then drive away. he would then pick you up, arriving 5 minutes early so you wouldn’t have to wait alone. your colleagues tried to pester you about details—anything about your relationship with an idol. you even heard rumors going around, assumptions that you were with him for the money or the fame. you just shook your head at the atrocious claims. you knew your relationship was built on love and adoration and nothing else.

My baby's fly like a jet stream High above the whole scene, loves me like I'm brand new So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to

once the initial shock of seungcheol dropping you off wore off, people started to stare at him whenever he drove by. and as much as you loved this man to death, you knew this leo was thriving off this attention. you overheard some coworkers in the bathroom a few days later, fawning over him, and you smirked to yourself. they can fawn over him all they want, but you were the one he was coming home to every day.

All my flowers grew back as thorns Windows boarded up after the storm He built a fire just to keep me warm

there were also ugly parts to your relationship now being in the open. coming from a non-industry background, a lot of discussions and speculations about your life went about. some of your trusted friends turned their back on you, outing your quirks to the media, and some went as far as spreading misinformation. you wanted to defend yourself, fight, and scream, but you knew that was sadly not an answer. any reaction from you would be written off as an overreaction, and you were so glad to have seungcheol on your side. he was there constantly to keep you warm when the ice-cold buckets of reality poured over you and reassure you through it all.

All the drama queens taking swings All the jokers dressin' up as kings They fade to nothin' when I look at him

and it was not that different of a situation for seungcheol either. almost every show, every gag parody was a subtle dig at him and his relationship. and he didn’t even want to start about the hate and trolls online. his days at work consisted of attending meetings about damage control and what he could and could not be a part of. his members supported him immensely through it all. on some days, he had his doubts, his questions—the ‘is it all worth it?’ but the second he would look at you, all of this would fade into nothing, and he knew that it was worth it. hell, he would do this a million times again and over if he had to.

And I know I make the same mistakes every time Bridges burn, I never learn, at least I did one thing right I did one thing right

you once made the mistake of trusting the wrong person in the past. thinking they’d have your back, but they were a snake in disguise waiting for the best moment to bite you. at first, you were worried seungcheol might leave you. deny it all and leave you to fend for yourself. but every time he showed up, when he reassured you through your hardest nights, you knew you finally did one thing right.

I'm laughin' with my lover, makin' forts under covers Trust him like a brother, yeah, you know I did one thing right Starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night

seungcheol’s starry eyes felt like home. whenever a personal fact about your life went viral, he simply took your phone, switched it off, and asked you to help him build a pillow fort with him. you didn’t even know what was posted; he was that quick at sheltering you from it all. you trusted him with everything in you. as long as you had him, you were safe. he didn’t need to outright say it, but you always knew he’d make it all better. so you focused on helping him build pillow forts, laughing at the wonky structure and when your big, strong boyfriend tried to squeeze himself into the tiniest place.

I want to wear his initial On a chain 'round my neck, chain 'round my neck Not because he owns meBut 'cause he really knows me Which is more than they can say, I

when the two of you would lay in bed, a sheen of sweat covering the two of you, he would press a small kiss to the pendant with his initial that lay on your chest. he would drag his nose to your jaw, murmuring a small ‘i love you,’ peppering kisses across the expanse of your neck. his sweet kisses mixed with your breathy sighs were witnesses to how seungcheol knew you and your body like the back of his hand.

I recall late November Holdin' my breath, slowly I said "You don't need to save meBut would you run away with me?" Yes (would you run away?)

when november rolled around, the rumors and claims got worse. a lot worse. one particularly difficult night, as seungcheol held you through your anxiety, you asked him in a small voice, “run away with me.” seungcheol gave you a small smile and kissed the top of your head, whispering an equally small yes. the next day, the two of you were on an early morning flight to a small city in europe. a quick email to both your companies and cashing in the saved-up holidays, you decided to spend the rest of the year with him, exploring another country in hopeful peace.

So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to Call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want To

you knew the news of you two skipping town would break out soon, but at this point, you didn’t care. they can label it, call it whatever they want. you had seungcheol, and your baby will always walk back home to you.

[hotluncheddie]

💕🪱Wiggly Wednesday🪱💕

ty for tagging me: @runninriot @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @whimsicalwadewinstonwilson @someforeignband <3

I’ve had these worm thoughts for a while but I dunno if I'll turn it into anything. Think bc of the nuance that I would need to put in it. <|:3

But basically! I’m thinking about autistic Steve again. My lovely lovely high masking autistic Steve. Who struggles to ask for help and struggles with how much he’s allowed to share, struggles to look after himself and is still learning about his needs and his desires.

Thinking about how he’s so good at following rules, because most of the time that genuinely makes the most sense to him. It’s how he navigates the world, how he’s built his mask and scripts. How he’s kept his secrets, kept himself safe.

As long as he’s not effecting anyone else, he doesn’t need them knowing the rules he’s made, the ones he breaks and why - what that might mean. So it can be to his detriment, it can be to people please, it can be a way for him to ignore himself. But they’re also a part of him, an important part; they're all he’s ever known.

But what makes it complicated is thinking about all of that, in the context of navigating a d/s dynamic. With Eddie and him exploring that part of their sex life a little.

Because, thing is, Eddie knows how good Steve is at following rules, how willing and eager he is to be good. But Eddie’s doesn’t want to hurt him. So they would both have a lot to learn, about each other, and about communicating.

- So maybe it starts as:

‘What do you think baby? Would that be hot, you’re not allowed to cum unless it’s with my permission?’ Eddie asks, kissing over Steve’s stomach, looking up at him all sprawled out and cozy on his bed.

Steve traces the line of Eddie’s nose, lips pouting in thought. ‘Like we did the other day?’

‘Kind of, but more like, when I’m not there too. You have to wait until the next time you see me.’

Steve liked what they did the other night, Eddie going slow, teasing him a little. Telling him when to touch and when to stop and when to finish is a slow syrupy haze.

But, if Eddie’s not there. He usually likes to touch himself before bed, to help him sleep. Pretty much every night. Like, like a routine…

(And that’s the thing. Working through Steve asking for things he needs, understanding that some changes could be for his benefit. Never meant to be to his detriment. What that means for his masks and scripts and taking real care of himself. To let Eddie into the world of his rules and maybe let him make some of his own - that requires a lot of honesty, and that's scary.)

- And so maybe there's a bit of angst, some hard talks and hard truths, but then maybe it shifts into something with a bit of comfort, like:

‘How about this, we can try rules, but things that are about taking care of yourself, and we don’t have to do punishments. It’s more, like, I want you to tell me when you’re struggling Stevie, and maybe this will be something that can help.’ Eddie says, pulling Steve’s hand into his lap, connecting them.

‘You like how showering feels right? You said it makes you feel good?' Eddie waits for Steve's nod. 'Ok, so I want you to shower for me, each night, it can be quick and the same as your always do it, same with your hair.’ Eddie continues, tucking a lock behind Steve’s ear. Steve curls toward him, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his head in Eddie’s shoulder. Not looking, but listening.

‘And it might help, you know, if you think you can’t do it but remember that Daddy’s rooting for you, yeah?’ Eddie drops his voice, speaking softly into Steve ear. ‘Daddy knows his baby likes to shower and brush his teeth before bed so that’s what I want baby to do okay?’ Eddie asks, smile blooming sweet and cocky on his face as Steve squirms, shifting himself closer, throwing a thigh over Eddie’s and seating himself in his lap. That word always makes Steve feel a little crazy. Makes him feel gooey and loved.

‘But, and this is the important part baby, if you can’t, if it’s too hard, I want you to call me okay?’ Eddie asks, linking their fingers again and looking Steve in the face, waiting for his small nod.

‘And you don’t have to use that word when you call, if you just want to call me Eddie, that’s perfect too. Or if you call and say it’s a bad night and can’t get any more words out that’s fine. I just need you to call me yeah? That’s your rule. Okay Stevie?’ Eddie finishes, shaking their joined hands and smiling when Steve gets out a little ‘okay’, looking Eddie in the eyes for a flash, smiling, leaning into Eddie’s arms, moving closer for a kiss, and another, and another.

yeah! Just ideas!! Maybe I’ll write it all down one day, but maybe not. Hehehe.

✨Tagginggggg✨ : @scoops-aboy86 @pearynice @steviewashere @devondespresso @marvel-ous-m

@wynnyfryd @wheneverfeasible @thefreakandthehair

[agxinstthesun]

an overly complex analysis of how the killjoys deal with loss

party poison-

party poison has a soul crushing fear of death. maybe it isn’t apparent- not what you’d expect from someone who appears so confident and in tune with themselves, but there’s signs. the way their eyes go dark when anyone in the crew gets even slightly injured- the way they're always first to volunteer to stay up all night on patrol, knowing their paranoia would keep them up either way. you could chalk it up to their “leader instincts,” but their crew would argue it runs deeper than that. a good leader doesn’t have to do what party does- a good leader - by zone standards - keeps the group motivated- keeps them from splitting up. party poison keeps the group alive, together. they took a team and effortlessly morphed it into a family. admitting to it would feed their suspended guilt even more, but each time they hear of a death outside their inner circle, a small part of them is relieved that it wasn't their family blinded by the witches touch that day.

if it were to happen, it would destroy them. the loss would be bad enough, but the guilt of it all might be enough to put them out of commission for a long while. as strong as they are, the role of "leader" digs into them like the soles of a brand new pair of shoes. leaving an indent of responsibility and overcompensation in the sand with every step they take.

jet star-

jet star never strays far from death, not since what happened to his family. finding his parents ghosted after an unexpected raid carried out by some particularly violent exterminators was the catalyst for a lot of things in his life. his heightened sympathy for the dead and the mourning was one of those things. he was known throughout the desert as a safe person to talk to about those topics. it was even said that he would offer sympathy despite negative affiliations or disagreements your group had with his. it'd be a lie to say it didn't weigh on him, though. the anger built up from hearing all of these stories and the lingering effects from his own experiences culminated in an intense hatred for BLI and everything they had done. this passion was the one thing him and party poison truly connected over when they first met.

it's no surprise that, if confronted by a companions passing, this anger and passion would hit him hard. how unfair it is, how inhumane, it shakes him. initially, he'd think to organize- to finally just go for it and take out as many of those pigs as possible- but he wouldn't. he's too aware of the amount of people in the zones that still need him. he's second in command, he's as much a leader as party is. still, he'd become distant. it'd serve as another warning not to get too close, to not give too much of yourself to something that is only ever temporary.

fun ghoul-

fun ghoul doesn't acknowledge death. despite his ever frequent catfights with it, he manages to get by rarely considering the possibility. the truth being that if he did, the weight of it all would crush him. deep down, he knows he's helpless to it. he knows that each time he evades her grasp, she gets smarter. it's no doubt it'll all catch up to him eventually..but his friends are all untouchable. seeing them injured, near ghosted? it never feels real. on a bad night, he'll think of how the others must look down, mortified, to him each time he’s left bleeding out against the desert sun. it gives him a sense of importance sometimes, but usually it just builds guilt.

if he had to face a loss head on, it would be a pivotal moment to him. as the reality set in, he'd feel lost. stupid for being naive enough to ignore it for so long. that love of throwing himself into the danger that he relied so heavily on before would fade just as fast as it came, the loss weighing him down in small ways for as long as he lived. the remorse he’d feel for pushing his love inward, and seldom expressing it, would sit heavy on his shoulders. he'd cling even more to whatever it is he had left, and protect it with his whole life.

kobra kid-

kobra kid is conflicted on death. of course it scared him- the thought that he would disappear one day, but more often than not, he caught himself wondering if that was just something he had picked up from party. the longer he thought about it on his own time, the more the thought became oddly comforting. the fact that there would eventually be a moment of rest amidst all the chaos didn’t sound all that bad to him..of course, it also pissed him off. it made him mad that the city forced that mindset onto you. the idea that submitting yourself to death was the only way to true freedom. however, it wouldn’t take long for the morbid curiosity found its way back to him.

he was almost too aware of the looming presence of death around him and the rest of the crew (the rest of the desert, really). if it happened, he wouldn’t be shocked, but deeply mourning still. he’d send letters in the mailbox, despite always considering it a futile effort. he’d silently participate in whatever zone rituals he thought would help him feel better, though they almost never would. he’d become especially reclusive and unresponsive to sympathy- it’s just something people do to feel like they’re helping, right? he’s way more dependent on his crew than he’d ever let on, and this fate would only further prove that.

[aq2003]

really love how throughout a lot of smith and jones martha is really skeptical and apprehensive towards ten (+ one of my favorite exchanges between them - "what, people call you 'the doctor'?" "yeah?" "well, i'm not. far as i'm concerned, you've got to earn that title."), not taking everything he says at face value, even doubting the fact he's an alien until over halfway through the episode.. And like. i really truly think the thing that wins her over isn't him kissing her or any of the other insane mixed messages he manages to send, it's this scene here, where he /earns that title/ in her eyes:

(+ david's bit in the commentary, where he says: "[the doctor] has actually sacrificed himself, and - i would say, that that final act of selflessness is what finally, eventually, welds martha to him. [...] and she now returns it. she returns that act of selflessness.")

this is what their relationship is built on. it isn't about martha being the second-best replacement to rose or a rebound or whatever. bc it isn't really about rose. it's about doctor-in-training martha meeting someone (quite literally, "the doctor") whose ideals she aspires to, and doing her best to be the same person to him as he is to everyone else. it's about ten in return admiring her intelligence and inquisitiveness and how she cares for human life, recovering his compassion, letting himself lean on her for support - and then remembering at the most inopportune moments that he's supposed to not need anyone and be on his own forever. And around in their little nightmare loop they go where they save each other over and over until one of them breaks

i've seen ppl look at martha and go "why she does she admire/why is she so in love with ten if he acts like that to her?" or something along those lines and like. it's not just the fact she's in love with him (in fact i'd argue she actively tries to push it aside post-gridlock). it's the fact that she knows he's the kind of person to put everyone else's lives/well-being over his own. she trusts him to save her when she's in trouble even though it's been like two days at most that they've known one another bc she recognizes that same "deep all-encompassing drive to help others" in him. and she also recognizes, much much earlier than him, that he needs someone to save him, especially when he's unwilling to save himself. and yeah for a bit she thinks he returns her feelings and is just playing hard-to-get, but she realizes pretty early on that this probably isn't the case, and i think that realization fully solidifies here:

(this is when she's listening to ten talk abt gallifrey). And idk it might just be me but i think this expression isn't just her empathizing with his loss. it's also guilt, for wanting something from him that he's clearly unable to give when he's wracked with so much grief. (and you see it in the next episode, where tallulah asks if they're together and martha says for certain that they're not, and that he doesn't know about her feelings for him. she keeps everything to herself bc she now knows that when he shut her flirting down at the end of 3x01 it was the genuine reaction of someone who a) isn't interested and b) is scared of getting close with someone else again)

freema described their dynamic as "she's keener than him" and i think about this all the time. martha doesn't really take what ten throws at her. what she does instead is constantly poke holes in his already-failing front of "i will show someone the wonders of the universe so i can ignore what is wrong with me". what she does is stand up and fight him when he tries to go off on his own. what she does is put aside her well-being in favor of helping someone - just like what she saw him do for the people in the hospital when they first met. tldr, that's the doctor and his doctor and rip martha you would've loved who's gonna save u now by rina sawayama

[bibibbon]

I'm convinced that the translators saw the backlash on the different scans and tried to modify the dialogue to make chapter 430 sound better than it is. It doesn't change the fact that even though villainy has fallen and there's more time for heroes to relax. That none of 1A decided that Izuku was worth their time. I can't stand the copers right now; they are just making excuses for Hori right now.

Plus, Ochako and Tenya had their own team dedicated to quirk counseling and she didn't think to invite her best friend Izuku someone known for being intelligent and obsessed with quirks. Izuku really has some scummy friends. No wonder the cucking memes are going wild right now. Ochako and others just seem like junior members of the MLA for ignoring Izuku after losing OFA. The MLA is bound for a resurgence doesn't it lol.

Not to mention I still can't get over the fact that Izuku had to wait 8 years to get some stupid armor when All-Might had his special suit built in a couple of weeks to fight AFO. If the editors had some sense, Izuku would have already had the power suit before he even graduated from UA and be in the top ten hero ranks by now. But that might have made Izuku look awesome possibly outshining Mirio or Bakugo and we can't have that now, can we. but Hori really wanted to make Izuku look like a bum. Izuku needs better friends and an author.

Hi @agentterios 👋

Iam not sure if Viz manga or official translators actually did do any of that but I still do have my issues with the MHA ending overall.

My main point that confuses me is that if there are less villains then how are the heroes doing more work?!?! Are they more focused on rescuing and changing society? If that's the case then cool I don't have a problem with that but it's the fact that we don't see much of it. We are told that ochako and iida have started a quirk counselling project which like you mentioned adding Izuku to it (or having him involved in the background) because of his quirk analysis or just analytical abilities would be a great addition to them and should of been canon. Doing this would of 1) proved that izuku even though he has lost his quirk he is incredibly close and still works with his classmates and 2) would allow for one of my favourite Izuku characteristics shine.

Alps I find it very weird how the manga states that izuku and the rest of 1A don't hang out at a lot due to work but we don't even get a small panel of him texting them or him hanging out with individual members of 1A. I feel like if we got something like that it would of shown us that yes Izuku is still in contact with them but nope. I also feel like this is one of the reasons why so many people including I might of misinterpreted the thing into 1A ditching Izuku because we literally don't see them hang out or do anything outside of heroics together. Now that I think about it the whole found family bond of 1A is centered around them being heroes and in heroics so that's all they have and it's not a good look.

First I hate the idea of izuku losing his quirk (I have seen different interpretations but I still think it sucks) and two i find it incredibly unrealistic how izuku (a boy who did anything to become a hero) simply not do anything for 8 years. That's not the Izuku I know at all. The Izuku I know would do anything to help others and even try and be useful or a hero but this one just sits back accepting defeat and that his dream is over?!?! The boy who said his body moved on it's own to help others simply gives up and doesn't do anything until he is given a suit?!?!?!

There's also the fact that I don't like the whole suit thing. Maybe I would of liked it if izuku worked with Melissa and mei to make it himself. Something about izuku making it and earning it and learning and adapting to reach his goal is much more satisfying and adds more to his character than him being given a suit and becoming a hero. Izuku working in the background helping heroes whether that be with projects or strategies and analysis also should of been something he should of done during the eight years.

Also, I have been avoiding Izuku related content from twitter and tiktok like the plague so no I haven't had the misfortune in seeing another gag that the fandom makes about izukus pain without them acknowledging how the manga events effect his character

[allastoredeer]

The Hierarchal Power Structure in Pentagram City + Royal Family Character Analysis (Hellaverse World-Building)

I did some character analysis, lore, and world-building last night for Pentagram City and the hierarchical systems, and @tomboy014, I saw your reply, and I am here to deliver the deets.

First and foremost, disclaimer: this is world-building/character analysis/lore that I came up with. Some of it is based on canon, but a lot of it is built off my personal fanon. None of it can actually be considered canon, but feel free to incorporate anything here into your fanon or fics or whatever you want. And feel free to not take any of it seriously and ignore it if it doesn't work for you.

This post is going to be broken up into separate parts that delve into different subjects, like the city districts, the Overlords and what they give to the city, hierarchal systems, politics, and soul-contracts.

To get things started, I'm diving into the hierarchical systems of power in the Pride Ring and how involved or uninvolved they are in, most of the character analysis is on the Royal Family (Lucifer, Lilith, and Charlie) and their relationship to the Pride Ring.

So, we know that the Sinners are contained to the Pride Ring and that however powerful the Overlords are and how much influence they have in the Ring, they are still outranked by the Goetia and the Royal Family.

So, diving into that, let's start with the big boss of Hell himself:

Lucifer

Lucifer is the top dog. He's the most powerful being in Hell. What he says goes.

But he doesn't often involve himself with Pentagram City or the Sinners. He's gone out, made appearances, settled disputes that made their way up to him, and is the one who typically deals with Heaven and their input.

Unlike Sinners, he actually gets along well with the Hellborn. He has powerful Hellborn friends, like the Eldritch family - Charlie previously dated Seviathan Von Eldritch (their son) and we see a picture of Frederick Von Eldritch (the dad) with Lucifer in Lucifer's workshop in "Dad Beat Dad:

So, he has good relationships with other people. He has friends. He gets along well with the other Deadly Sins and the Goetia. He has absolutely no problems with them.

He also doesn't mind dealing with issues that pop up in other Rings, but given that those Rings are managed by the other Sins, it's rare that he has to get involved. Usually, the only times he would, is if the Sins themselves were having a dispute with each other, and it got big enough to warrant it coming to him. He's the big boss of Hell, afterall. He gets the final say.

What he does distance himself from is the Sinners.

When it comes to Heaven, Lucifer has an inferiority complex. 

He's been in Heaven, with the seraphims, archangels, and angels for most of his existence. He grew up believing what they believe. He was considered a trouble-maker for his grandiose ideas, but he was still one of them.

But after giving Eve the fruit of knowledge, giving free-will to mankind and breaking the careful order Heaven maintained, the beings that he's been with his entire existence turned on him. Rejected him. Cast him out and punish him for his mistake by seeing nothing but the terrible and wicked caused by his actions.

He feels ashamed and humiliated. Belittled and looked down on. If everyone you've ever known, everyone you've ever been close to, tells you you're done a terrible thing, what other choice do you have then to believe them?

He's still prideful, but that pride is what causes him to have such great shame. He was so certain of his decision. So certain that giving Eve the apple was the right move, only to be torn down so thoroughly and cast out of his home.

But with the Sinners he has a superiority complex.

The Sinners are a constant reminder of his mistake. When he sees them, all he feels is shame, anger, humiliation, and disgust, but he still thinks he's better than them. He thinks all the Hellborn are better than them. He's still got a sliver of that high-and-mighty angel inside him that looks down on the Sinners.

Heaven deemed them bad enough to be sent to Hell, afterall. And even though he'd been cut off from Heaven, even though he was cast out, Heaven's definition of "good" and "bad" is still rooted in his brain. They would know, right? Heaven is pure, and righteous, and good. He was once pure, and righteous, and good. Their logic and reasoning made sense to him, and a part of it still does.

So, he goes out of his way to avoid interacting with the Sinners. Given that he's only ever seen the worst in humanity, he considers them the lowest of the low and doesn't bother trying to learn more about them - he stopped trying to see the good in them after the first few hundred years.

To him, all Sinners are horrible. Heartless. Monstrous. Cruel. They tear things down instead of build things up. They're everything wrong with humanity. He doesn't hold a high opinion of them, nor has he for a very, very, very long time.

Given that he represents "pride," most would assume that he manages the Pride Ring, but it's actually Lilith who runs the Ring and everyone in it. Lucifer is more than happy to let Lilith take the reins when it comes to the Sinners, and almost never takes the opportunity to get more involved when one comes up.

Lilith

Lilith holds a higher opinion of the Sinners than Lucifer does.

She used to be human, afterall. She was the first woman. One of three people that marked the beginning of mankind. Technically, one could argue that she was the first human to commit a sin as she had not only rejected Adam but she was on board with Lucifer sharing the fruit of knowledge with Eve. She was punished for their "reckless act" just the same as Lucifer and cast into Hell.

But where Lucifer feels disgust and shame, Lilith feels a sense of freedom. She's no longer bound to Heaven and their rules. Rules that she struggled with and had to break free of. Rules that also dubbed her a "wicked person" for breaking them.

She feels connected to the Sinners. She feels a kinship with them. She has more empathy for their situations and actions. She understands their misery and anger. She loves learning about them and their stories - some Sinners, of course, are absolutely deplorable human beings. But there are some who lived in difficult situations, made mistakes, developed bad habits, were forced into tight corners, had no other options, or were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. She feels righteous anger at Heaven and its strict system that separates the "good" from the "bad."

Lilith has been involved with the growth of Pentagram City since the beginning, and once Overlords became a thing, she worked side-by-side with them to keep the Ring functioning as best as a society can function in Hell.

She was a lot more involved in the beginning of Hell. However, the more the city grew the more it was able to stand on its own two legs. She had more time to step away and be with Lucifer, Charlie later on, and the other Rings. She still often holds her concerts to inspire and uplift demonkind, but she doesn't have to help run the city so much.

Overtime, she became more of an occasional guiding hand or a final vote. The Overlords had a hold of most situations and solved it amongst their own territories or with the other Overlords.

Charlie

While born in Hell, Charlie was actually very sheltered growing up. She was allowed to go to the other Rings, and often went on trips with Lucifer and Lilith to visit the other Sins, but despite living in the Pride Ring, she wasn't allowed to really explore it for a lot of her life growing up.

Lilith wanted to bring young Charlie with her on her trips into the city, to meet the Overlords, see her subjects, and familiarize herself with all the districts, but Lucifer was a little bit more, ehhhh...hesitant, you could say. And protective. Very protective.

He didn't like the idea of his little girl rubbing elbows with the scum of humankind. Of her seeing the violence and cruelty they so often displayed. She became a bright, burning light in his life, giving him new drive, something to love and take care of. It brought him out of his depression for a time, especially when Charlie lived in the palace, but he still had moments when he fell back into it. When he had hard days. When he sunk back into dark thoughts and internalized shame.

During these dark periods of time, Lucifer locked himself in his workroom. He didn't have the energy, the mental capacity, to be there for Charlie, and he didn't want to bring any of the dark and negative thoughts & emotions on to Charlie - the light in his life. His pride and joy.

Distancing himself from her during this spirals is how he "protected" her. He convinced himself that it was for her own good not to see him like this. That he needed to keep this side of him locked away and out of sight for her benefit, not realizing just how much Charlie needed him.

During these spirals, Lucifer turned to creation. He made things. Things for Charlie. Things for Lilith. Random knick-knacks. Whatever object, animal, or concept that crossed his mind. More often than not, though, his creations had holy undertones. Angelic designs. Some piece of Heaven squirreled inside.

Charlie loved watching her dad create things, and eventually, Lucifer started telling her stories about Heaven. What it was like up there. How beautiful it was. The archangels and the seraphims who made galaxies and expanded the universe. Who kept evil at bay.

Charlie soaked in these stories and developed a fascination for Heaven.

Lilith didn't approve. She had complicated feelings about Heaven, but for the most part, she had a negative opinion of it. Of the angels, the seraphims, their order, and rules, and expectations. She doesn't see it with the same rose-tinted glasses that Lucifer does. She doesn't have the millennia of memories and experiences that Lucifer has.

She doesn't like Lucifer filling Charlie's head with these grandiose and beautiful depictions of Heaven. She doesn't like Charlie's growing fascination with Heaven. She doesn't like the look of awe and wonder in Charlie's eyes. She doesn't like Lucifer painting Heaven in this perfect light when they had both been hurt so badly by them. She's been with Lucifer since the beginning, has seen him through every up and down, spiral, and depressive episode, and she doesn't understand how he could still hold such a high opinion of them after everything they did. Everything they've put her through. Everything they put him through.

She's okay with Lucifer spending time with Charlie and creating things with her, but she does interrupt and make an excuse to take Charlie with her when Lucifer starts talking about Heaven, or creating Heavenly things, like the bird-angel-creature from "Dad Beat Dad"

She doesn't want Charlie getting the wrong idea about them.

Lucifer's leniency towards Heaven & contempt for Sinner and Lilith's animosity towards Heaven & compassion for Sinners starts butting heads more and more as Charlie grows up. It leads to arguments, and then fights, and eventually, their divorce.

Charlie grew up torn between her father's dreams and stories, and her mothers compassion for Sinners and desire to help them. Both facets have been instilled in her. They're both driving motivators for her and what she wants to do with her life.

But seeing the separation between her parents was hard and it hurt. No matter what she did, she couldn't help their marriage or their family. So, she turned to helping others. The Sinners, specifically. Of redeeming them so they may see the beautiful, wondrous place her father told her about.

Lucifer still didn't approve, of course, which devastated Charlie. She wanted his support. Needed it. But he couldn't look past his contempt for Sinners, and it became the leading factor that led to their estrangement in the years that followed, with Charlie feeling unsupported and neglected, and Lucifer wanting to reconnect with her so badly but not knowing how to bridge the gap.

Lilith needed distance from Lucifer. She still loved him. She did. But she's also been with him since before Hell was created. They've been at each other's sides since they first met in the Garden of Eden.

And Lucifer's depressive episodes were hard on her too. She did everything she could to support him. To help him. To be there for him. But over time, the mental and emotional load began weighing on her. It started affecting her mentally and emotionally too. It's hard to be the one constantly holding up the other. She felt like she could never break. Never stumble. She had to be steadfast. She had to be strong. A pillar for her family and her kingdom. To raise Charlie, oversee the city, and support Lucifer all at once, and she was exhausted.

And with her and Lucifer butting heads more and more, she couldn't keep doing it. She left the Pride Ring, visited the other Rings, took some time for herself and something something, stuff happens, she ends up in Heaven (my reasoning for this changes based on what fic I'm writing or concept I'm thinking about, so I don't have a concrete answer to give).

She did leave Charlie on her own, too, though.

Charlie had to build her plan for redemption, start her hotel, and deal with demonkind all on her own, without the support of either of her parents, without their help navigating the city and dealing with Sinners, which leaves her fumbling, unsure how to act around them, and a bit naive to their situation. When she met Vaggie, she got the love and support for her dreams, for herself, that she craved. That she needed. That's been missing for so many years.

Charlie still loves both of her parents deeply, but she has complicated feelings about them that she buries deep, deep, deep down inside her. She's got mommy and daddy issues.

Goetia

The Goetia are the third most powerful beings in Hell (after the Sins and the Royal Family). They outrank the Overlords easily.

Goetia families live in every ring. They can move between Rings, go where they want, and have their own sway and political power in Hell. A Goetia that we know, for sure, lives in the Pride Ring is Stolas, as implied by the sky where his house/estate is located:

But, generally, the Goetia don't get that involved in Pentagram City, its politics, or the Overlords, unless it affects them directly. They work with the Overlords, meet with them to discuss matters that involve them both, but over all, they leave Pentagram City, the Overlords, and the Sinners all to their own devices. They don't care enough to get involved, and, technically, the Pride Ring is the Sinner's ring - as they are restricted to it - and they don't want to have to maintain a society or system for them.

The Goetia have an indifferent opinion of the Sinners. Where Imps and Hellhounds are the lower class, and generally looked down on, especially by the Goetia, the Sinners are kind of just...there.

They may look down on them a little, and not take the Overlords too seriously, as they see them as nothing but a handful of Sinners with a smidgeon of power - how cute ^.^ They think they can actually do shit! - that doesn't hold a candle to a Goetia's power.

They do tend to underestimate the Overlord's power and can be condescending towards them, but in the end, if an Overlord were to try and go toe-to-toe with a Goetia, they would get their ass beat.

So, the Goetia's attitude towards Pentagram City, the Overlords, and the Sinners is generally indifferent. They simply don't care enough to get involved. The Sinners are none of their concern and they don't want to make them their concern. They only ever interact/deal with the Overlords, and even then, it's sparingly.

The Goetia keep to themselves. The Overlords and Sinners keep to themselves. Both are fine with this. (The Overlords would not be happy if the Goetia decided they wanted more control of city and inserted themselves into the politics and hierarchy).

Overlords

Like how Lucifer is the top dog in all of Hell, the Overlords are the top dogs in Pentagram City (not including the Goetia, who keep to themselves and don't get involved in Sinner business).

The city is run by the Overlords. They each have their own districts, their own imports and exports, and a trade that benefits the city in some way, shape, or form. A lot of their trades can be dependent, or involved, with other Overlord's and their trades, which is an incentive for them to keep the peace and work together.

They meet up fairly often to discuss the happenings in the cities, situations/events that have an impact on all of them (like the Exterminations), problems that arises that they need to groupthink for solutions, and any matter or subject that an Overlord wants to bring up with the other's.

The relationship between the Overlords can vary. Some can be friends, some can just be allies, some can have friction, and some can be flat out rivals. No matter what the relationship is, it's crucial that the order between them be maintained.

Overlords, generally, try not to attack or openly antagonize each other. They don't typically want to start fights, as that is just as much a risk to them as it is to the one they want to fight. And if a fight does break out, either 1) the Overlord will be defeated with the possibility of losing souls - or killed, depending on if their attacker has an angelic weapon, or 2) the defeated Overlord will be embarrassed and angry, and the friction will only get worse and cause more detriment to the group as a whole.

Nobody wants Overlords fighting, especially the Overlords. They're the most powerful Sinners, but even that power has risks. It takes a while to build up, but it can be snatched away so quickly, and few of them want to take that chance. The best option is to get along as best they can when they're in the same room, and keep to themselves and their districts when they separate.

The Overlords are essentially a counsel. They're all considered equals of each other. There is no head of the Overlords. No one who presides over them, except Lilith. They all stand on equal footing and treat each other as such (at least outwardly). They work together to keep the city running, as their empires, power, and trades are dependent on the city. It's in all their best interests to keep it functioning as much as a society can function in Hell. (It helps that they are the ones controlling the system, and thus, they benefit from having a say in what goes on in the city).

If an Overlord were to be "toppled" or killed, it would actually rock the balance that's been established in the city. Suddenly, there will be thousands of Sinners with broken contracts who now own their souls, entire territories that can be seized, a trade/resource that is either up for grabs or gone entirely, and overall chaos and confusion. Greedy Overlords might make a power grab for more territory and souls, which becomes a threat to the other Overlords and their status. More fights break out. More damage and destruction. More friction.

It's bad for everyone. So they try to keep the peace among each other as much as possible.

Crime-Families

Crime-families fall under the Overlords in this hierarchy of power. These crime-families don't have to be "families," they can be gangs, factions, syndicates, or organizations.

Some of them may be owned by an Overlord, fall into the jurisdiction of an Overlord, or are entirely independent with their souls intact. No matter what the relationship is, crime-families do tend to work directly with Overlords.

They specialize in smuggling, trafficking, and recruiting. Unless owned, they typically don't work with just one Overlord, but do business with all of them. They can be paid under-the-table by a specific Overlord to be notified when they have a “fresh supply," or if they found something/someone that could benefit that Overlord, but generally, they keep the entire pool open and neutral, as there's more money to be made that way and there's safety in being a resource for all Overlords, not just one. That way, if they were threatened, it would come to the attention of all the Overlords, as they are a valuable resource and anyone threatening that makes themselves a target.

Owned Sinners

Owned-Sinners are Sinners who have sold their soul. The system for owning and selling souls is a complex one, with pros and cons. There's a reason so many sinners end up selling their souls, despite how serious and significant it is to do so.

And that's because so often the benefits outweigh the risks.

There are many reasons why a Sinner will sell their soul, like fame, money, opportunity, security, safety, housing, jobs, desires, needs, etc... and whoever owns their soul, that person is now responsible for it and them.

Some Sinners will sell their soul as a way to get a well-paying job from an Overlord, or to fall under their protection so they're safe from outside threats, or to pay off loans they can't pay back, or to wipe clean their slate if they get themselves in too much trouble. When an Overlord owns your soul, you have the opportunity to relocate to that Overlord's district as further means of security and opportunity.

Furthermore, most people who sell their souls just...continue living their own lives. Overlords own thousands upon thousands of souls. There's no way they can keep track of every single one of them, or have hyper-specific deals with each one. Most sinners can sell their soul and continue living their afterlife with whatever benefits they sold it for. Easy peasy.

There are, of course, cons too.

Like, the fact that you are owned by someone. You're bound by the contract you signed. You're bound to the person who now owns your soul. The deal you made may have specific requirements that you have to follow, and not doing so can result in very, very bad consequences.

It opens situations for abuse and being taken-advantage of. Even if you change your mind afterward, you can't break the deal. Unless you convince the owner of your soul to dissolve it, they don't hold up their end of the bargain, or you can't find a loophole/backdoor, you're trapped in the contract and there is nothing you can do about it.

Non-Owned Sinners

Non-Owned Sinners fall under Owned-Sinners in this power-structure because they don't have the opportunities or security that comes with being tied to an Overlord.

Overlords can offer protection, housing, well-paying jobs, opportunities, money, debt-relief, a myriad of things. Whereas Non-Owned Sinners are all on their own. They're "free targets." There won't be any repercussions to killing them, hurting them, taking all their shit, trafficking them, literally doing anything to them.

Non-Owned Sinners have the independence and freedom of owning their souls, but they're essentially fishes in a shark tank. They're vulnerable. They're out in the open. They're more likely to live in squalor. Bad things are more likely to happen to them.

Living in Hell, where death, destruction, misery, and torment are the norm, most Sinners will end up selling their souls. And if they don't at first, they usually do eventually when life gets too hard, they get themselves into too much trouble, they fall for a recruiters trap, or they're desperate.

Imps

Imps are below Non-Owned Sinners. The Pride Ring is the most diverse Ring in all of Hell, so there are a lot of Hellborn who live there. Imps are still one of the lowest classes, but there are actually a lot of opportunities for them there.

Sinners don't see Imps the same way other Hellborn do. They weren't born there and they are restricted to the Pride Ring, so they don't see how other Rings treat Imps. 

Imps aren't treated as badly in the Pride Ring, especially in Imp City (which is an entire district in Pentagram City that's in a neutral zone, and thus, under the jurisdiction of no Overlord) and is dominantly populated by other Imps.

Though they still are very much treated as a lower class, it's not as terrible as it can be in other Rings. The diversity of so many sinners and Hellborn make it a little easier. They have job opportunities within the city. They can work for Overlords without having to sell their soul, as Overlords can't own the souls of Hellborn, just other Sinners.

Hellhounds

Hellhounds are at the bottom of the list, as they are canonically the lowest social class in Hell. Most of the jobs they get fall under the category of security, manual labor, sex work, or working with crime-families.

Like Imps, it's a little better in the Pride Ring, given its diversity and the Sinners not having a full scope of just how much lower of a class Imps and Hellhounds are supposed to be. It's not perfect by any means, and the system is still rigged against them, but there's more job opportunities and ways to make a life for themselves.

That's that for the hierarchical system in the Pride Ring, from the highest class to the lowest class. The most powerful to the least powerful.

TLDR: Lucifer is the most powerful but he doesn't want to get involved with Sinners, Lilith helped the city grow until it could stand on its own, Charlie wants to help but struggles due to family issues and being sheltered most of her life, the Goetia don't care enough to get involved with the Sinners, the Overlords are a counsel of equals, Crime families work for the Overlords, Owned-Sinners have more opportunity, Non-Owned Sinners have less opportunity, Imps and Hellhounds have always been considered a lower class, but it's not as bad for them in the Pride Ring.

Up Next: A Deep Dive into the Overlords and their Districts (this is where the real world-building begins)

[liuhko]

Gold Digger

𝜗🤍 ݁ Nanami with an obnoxious, gold digging wife. Got this idea at 3AM (finished it at 5AM) and I can’t let it go to waste, especially with this rising interest in my man (nanami). This is a long one, so you're welcome!

Nanami wasn’t the richest man on the planet, but he was rich enough. You came across him at a restaurant after his failed blind date, you had been watching the ordeal from afar and noted the expensive dishes he allowed his date to order. Of course, that didn’t mean much but your gut told you to go after him, so you did.

Thank goodness you listened to your gut, you somehow managed to woo him and he eventually proposed to you. Now here you were, several years into a marriage built on support, trust, and financial stability.

Your relationship with Nanami started strangely but you did eventually fall in love, and that’s why he put a ring on it (kardashian level diamond ring). To him, you’re the cutest, silliest little financial parasite he’s ever known. No, but seriously you do love each other, you just so happen to care for his assets a bit more.

Nanami isn’t an idiot, he was aware you were after his money, and most men would’ve ignored you completely because of that, but he can’t deny that he‘s very attracted to you. That and your unbelievable lack of shame. Not once did you even attempt to hide your desire for his money, you would always eye designer stores whenever you were out on dates and you made a habit of asking him for exactly $5.99 every day. There was always a need for it somehow, whether it be the bus, food, or the convenient loss of your piggy bank. You were so dedicated that he couldn’t help but indulge in your wants (or needs as you’d say).

You’re a dumb dumb and VERY obnoxious, not Gojo-level obnoxious, but still pretty annoying. The only reason Nanami ignores it is because you’re a pretty lady who knows how to sweet talk him. He doesn’t mind your level of smarts, and while your obnoxiousness does irritate him at times, it’s not enough for him to up and leave. Besides, you aren’t as dumb as some believe you to be. You’re smart enough to charm a rich man, so how dumb are you really?

Back to the obnoxiousness, boy you talk a lot. It’s like an endless fountain of words spews from your mouth, and if that isn’t the case you’re always doing something mildly annoying.

Nanami’s friends and family are NOT rocking with you in the slightest! Except for Gojo, Gojo likes being around you, you’re a less frustrating version of him. The same goes for Nobara too, she thinks you’re justified and relatable because she too, dries out people’s bank accounts. As for the others, Nanami’s loved ones still don’t understand why he married you while knowing your true intentions. The one who was the most sour about your union was his son, Yuuji. Yuuji never outright says “I don’t like you.” But he does actively make an effort to persuade his dad to leave you. “Divorce isn’t that expensive these days, there’s also less shame, so I think it’s a great choice.” Nanami just chuckles and tells Yuuji that there’s nothing wrong with a woman wanting money. Yuuji is your biggest hater.

NSFW

Nanami gives you allowances for any extra things you want to buy, and you almost always use this money on lingerie. You have a singular closet just for lingerie, it varies from cutesy to intense BDSM. Nanami loves the ones with easy access since he usually comes home exhausted from work. He likes that he doesn’t have to think much, just put his things away and slide into you. He doesn’t like to acknowledge this but if he knows he’s going to be away for a while because of work he’ll take one of his favorite lingerie sets and go crazy with it later. He always asks for permission before doing so.

Hate sex. Annoyance sex (I don’t think that’s what you call it)! You’re so beyond irritating, and while Nanami does love you, he needs a break from it at times. It’s always the worst when he’s trying to organize his schedule or relax from a long day only to have you rambling in his ear. He could ask you to tone it down but sometimes that doesn’t work, if he asks nicely and you don’t stop he’ll distract you with sex.

Nanami will pick you up, toss you onto the bed, and do whatever it takes to keep you quiet. He’ll spend hours pumping into you repeatedly if it means he gets a moment of peace when he’s done. He does get distracted at times though, who can blame him? :(( the way you squirm and shake beneath him when he whispers sweet nothings into your ear while roughly thrusting into your warm pussy, the apologies that fall from your lips when it all becomes a bit too much. “Kento, please, it’s too much…I’ll let you get your work done, I’m sorry…” (you never mean it though, the overstimulation makes you pleasantly dizzy and you love pissing him off). He loves making you feel good, no matter how much he wishes you’d shut up.

Money = breeding session. Nanami has a breeding kink, it’s a fact among the people. He loves cumming inside you but you’re a wicked little thing who won’t let him until he promises to add just a bit more to your allowance. He’ll give you your desired amount no matter how absurd it is. Truth be told he is WHIPPED for you and wants to make you happy (he also wants to cum in you). Some may say this is wrong, others call it taking advantage of your resources.

Bonus: he loves when you suck him off for multiple reasons. 1, it silences you completely. 2, he gets to cum in your mouth. 3, you look so pretty with his dick in your mouth.

𝜗🤍 ݁ I finished this whole thing in 2 HOURS. This must be how mass producers feel when they pump stuff out quickly, better start calling me the SHEIN of tumblr.

TAGS @cindol @rizsu @lucstarz @histani @pekejs @hymnboos @dayestic @svgvruz @zorosq @peachop

[ikamigami]

I always personally disliked Eclipse as to me, he was just Moon but without the title of "brother"(not that that made Moon's treatment okay, if anything it makes Moon worse because siblings should NEVER treat their other siblings like Moon treats Sun)

I get how he's angry and traumatized from being trapped in Moon's mind but what he took from it was completely incorrect, instead of realizing the one who did this to him was Moon, Moon discarded him and locked him away, he never realized Moon had ensured Eclipse couldn't be heard by doing that, he seriously thinks Sun was ignoring him when Sun flat out had no clue he was there and likely the Fazco techs never noticed anything and Moon likely lied to Sun that there was nothing there because he knew Eclipse was there, Moon is solely to blame for Eclipse's situation, and YET he blames Sun, who's just as much of a victim as him, he seriously saw what Moon was doing to Sun and his own situation and somehow went "Sun's the bad one"?

It's just like how Moon blamed Sun for their shared situation even though the Creator made them that way on purpose and Fazco let them rot, and neither he or Moon ever realized that had they been nicer their freedom would've been achieved faster? Sun was more than willing to help Moon and tried extending a hand to Eclipse despite thinking Eclipse caused July 16th, but both made themselves out to be serious threats to Sun's life and other people's lives and gave him no choice

It makes me wonder if Eclipse inherited part of Moon's hateful grudge towards Sun for locking him away, but just like Moon rather than realizing Sun actually had a good reason for that(aka he had no other choice, it sucks but nobody helped him, he didn't have the ability to do anything else, and Moon kept killing people, seriously what is he supposed to do?), it wasn't out of selfishness or malice, and Sun would've rather never had to do that to Moon, he would've rathered they coexisted, and Eclipse, despite claiming he's better than Moon, never grew up enough to realize that?

It also didn't help that after July 16th when he introduced himself he made himself out to be the bad guy, Sun and Moon had no idea Bloodmoon was a thing, to Sun all he knows is there's another presence in his head and it just killed all those people, and to Moon, he knows exactly what's in Sun's head and he thinks that that's what caused July 16th because he knew he left the killcode in there like an idiot, and what does Eclipse do when he makes himself known? Takes over Sun's body to laugh in his face, good job incriminating yourself for a crime you didn't commit

I half suspect the reason why he's so cruel to Sun is, like Moon, he knows Sun is too kind(Eclipse thinks cowardly but he's wrong) to fight back, ergo, there's no consequences to hurting him, because he'll keep being kind and forgiving, that Sun is easy prey, and we know both he and Moon think that because both are shocked when they shove Sun past his breaking point, which takes a lot, that and the fact that they enjoy hurting Sun, Sun's they're perfect victim since they could be endlessly cruel and torment Sun and Sun for the longest time never fought back, and both of them enjoyed hurting Sun, if Moon and Eclipse tried this with anyone else it'd backfire, heck when Eclipse tried manipulating Earth back when he had the Star he flat out failed because she was not cowed by him whatsoever, and Lunar eventually left him after he had enough and Lunar even killed Eclipse when Eclipse pushed him too far…Speaking of

The guy literally built Lunar to be his perfectly loyal and loving little brother and yet through his cruel behavior and him hitting Lunar Lunar ran away, he managed to drive away somebody he built to be brainwashed for and unflinchingly loyal to him, that's both a testament to his cruelty and how even when he's presented the perfect opportunity to not be alone, to get what he wants, to be loved and have a family, he ruins it with that aforementioned cruelty because he like Moon can't help himself, even if he "learned siblings act like this from Sun and Moon" does that really make it right?

Another thing I wonder is if he built Lunar to be like how he perceives Sun to be: always loving, always loyal, childish, stupid, naive, and selfish, and yet then we see how that backfires as unlike Sun, Lunar would not tolerate Eclipse's abuse, he would not forgive Eclipse if pushed too far and would take action against him if Eclipse kept going, that the love he had for Eclipse to begin with faded when Eclipse hurt him, which goes to show how Eclipse's perception of Sun(seen through Lunar) completely misrepresents and is inaccurate to who Sun actually is, people like to cite how Eclipse might've killed Lunar out of spite because Lunar "betrayed" him, if Eclipse held the role of Moon and Lunar was meant to be Sun in their dynamic, Lunar went against the script by standing up for himself and cutting Eclipse out of his life, as opposed to Sun who even now gives Moon a chance after everything, but that's just an idea

Eclipse has always tried ruining Sun's life and hurt him, it goes far beyond retribution(retribution for crimes Sun never committed) into torture, and he always think terribly of Sun, that Sun is a weakling, a coward, worthless, just as selfish and evil as he is, and that Sun deserves to suffer, and there's no excuse for that no matter what reason there might be, some might say "he's mad at Sun for not fighting back against Moon", then why did he decide to double Sun's suffering rather than try to help/encourage him to be stronger? If Eclipse was so lonely and wanted companionship Sun was right there! It's also clear that this isn't the reason since he would always call Sun a coward and just like Moon beat Sun down any time Sun did stand up to him, him blaming Sun for his imprisonment is stupid as it was Moon's fault, not Sun's, others might say "he hates himself" and so what? You don't tear others down to make yourself feel better that's what bullies do, and then there's the reason that I suspect for his behavior:

He enjoys it, he likes hurting Sun because it's fun for him, we've heard him laugh about it before, that he believes all these incorrect things about Sun and therefore he feels justified in being awful to him, and when Sun's not his personal punching bag Sun's his tool for getting petty revenge on Moon

Also for that matter, why did he never seriously confront Moon on abandoning him? If Eclipse is deserving of any kind of justice then by all rights he should chew Moon out for sealing him away, he's more than in the right for chastising Moon for that, yet that never happened weirdly, and why not start to heal from that through therapy and/or introspection rather than just lashing out at everybody?

He, like Moon, absolutely refuses to even entertain the idea that he was the one in the wrong and will jump through every mental hoop he can to avoid that, it's never "hm maybe I did something wrong" and it's always instead "it's everyone else but me" or "I'm bad so what", he never realized that most of the bad things in his life were his own fault

Sun fighting him for control? Sun would've shared if Eclipse wasn't an active threat to him and Moon, Sun hating him? He tortured Sun to his breaking point, Lunar disowning him and allying with Sun and Moon? He abused Lunar badly enough to chase him away, Bloodmoon becoming a loose canon? He discarded Bloodmoon when he fulfilled his purpose and became too unruly for Eclipse's liking, the Star slowly killing him? He sat on his hands having an existential crisis rather than using the Star to upgrade his body in an instant so it wouldn't kill him like every other Eclipse with the Star did, Sun and Nexus killing him? That's the culmination of all his terrible actions finally catching him

I could go on, and yet he still wonders why he's lonely, it took the guy dying four times, one being to Lunar, and being turned into a puppet by Ruin and later Dark Sun for him to finally give some sort of apology to Lunar, but never to Sun, to his first victim, he says he's done hating and yet now we're seeing him continue to be spiteful and bitter towards Sunlight and Moonlight in the new dimension and feel vindicated in his abuse of Sun through dealing with Sunlight

Like seriously why don't people want him to ACTUALLY improve and be a better person? I don't want him dead, I want to see him improve, or at the very least actually earn making a new life for himself by making amends with his old victims, he did that with Lunar, who not Sun? If he does apologize to Sun genuinely and recognize what he he did rather than running away I'd die happy…

Sorry that this is long and with all the talks on Eclipse's regression I wanted to pitch in

You're absolutely right, dear anon 👏

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me ^^

I don't have anything to add here ^^

And I also wonder why people don't want Eclipse to improve..

And I want the same as you, dear anon.. for Eclipse to reflect and realize his mistakes and wrongdoings and apologize and atone for what he's done.. or just apologize.. like if it's really better if Eclipse went separate ways from Sun and Moon (though I personally disagree) then let Eclipse at least apologize to them..

I think that it'd be for the better for all of them..

Also let Moon apologize to Eclipse too..

And Sun can also apologize for saying that he should kill himself..

So all of them would be even but I think that it matters..

Maybe I'm wrong but who knows..

[kanerallels]

If You Could Read My Mind, Love, What A Tale My Thoughts Could Tell

My first contribution to @kaneraweek!! Shoutout to @singswan-springswan for helping me come up with this au

Taglist: @accidental-spice @day-to-day-thots @auroramagpie @opalknight @ana-cantskywalker @cassie-fanfics @nyxlotl (DM me if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!)

Read on AO3!

Hera had known that blending in with humans would be difficult—and it was, for the most part. Avoiding iron, dancing around where societal conventions and the laws of the fae clashed, and just not knowing a lot of simple things combined to make life potentially awkward or painful.

But it was also…beautiful. Watching the lives of humans, who were so different from her people. Building her own life, such as it was. Running a business turned out to be simple in comparison to other issues she dealt with.

The coffee shop had been a longstanding cover for faeries in the area, and it had been more than one business over the years. Most recently, a restaurant, abandoned quickly when the faerie in question had completed their goal in the area. Hera, along with Zeb, her self appointed guardian who was far too paranoid about what all the humans were up to, had moved almost five years ago now. And to her surprise, they’d been able to make a profit.

Which was good, considering Hera had no idea when she was going to leave.

She’d had an original goal when she came here. Getting back the passkey she’d left behind when she’d come here seven years ago. It had taken her far too long to realize where she left it behind. Hera had always hated to be confined solely to the Other World. She simply wasn’t built to stay in one place forever, not when there was so much to see out there. So she’d developed a habit of slipping through the veil, visiting far off places and exploring a little. It was easy enough, with the passkey to guide her to nearby portals home and unlock them, if necessary.

But of course it was here. Lothal was an ancestral home for her people, to the degree that the passkey was barely necessary. And the night she’d come here to visit had been…eventful, to say the least.

That was the first and only time she’d ever been spotted by a human. Animals, sure. Even other faeries on occasion. But Hera had never been seen by a human, until Kanan Jarrus.

She hadn’t known his name at the time, of course, let alone anything about him. But now…she knew him. And he knew her, almost too well.

It would have scared her if it hadn’t thrilled her.

“Hera!”

Zeb’s gruff voice cut through her daydreaming, and Hera looked up from the counter she’d been wiping down. Nodding towards the door, the massive man—though technically, he wasn’t. Human, that is—said, “Customers on the way. Pretty sure it’s one of your favorites.”

“Thanks,” Hera said, ignoring his look of disdain. Zeb pretended not to like the humans, and for the most part, he didn’t. But Hera knew there were a few he had a soft spot for, whether he acknowledged it or not.

Ducking into the kitchen, she checked on the coffee—still fresh—and poured it into a to-go cup. After adding the cream, she started heating milk for hot chocolate. This took a little more maneuvering—the pot was made of steel, not straight iron, which helped. But she preferred to be careful when she could be. There was already a burn on her palm from her last brush with iron, and Hera really didn’t want more injuries than she could help.

The bell at the top of the door jingled cheerfully, and she heard familiar voices out front. Ezra was cheerfully heckling Zeb, as he usually did, and Zeb growled something unfriendly in response. And then there was Kanan’s voice, steady and deep, calmly mediating. Hera’s heart skipped a beat at the sound.

Don’t be silly, she scolded herself as she whisked the ingredients of the hot cocoa into the pot. He’s a customer, a friend at best—and most importantly, a human. Your heart shouldn’t be focusing on him.

Setting aside the whisk, she grabbed the to-go cup full of coffee and headed out front.

Kanan was sitting at the counter, watching Zeb and Ezra bickering. He glanced up at the sound of her footsteps, and a smile spread across his face. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Hera said, sliding him the cup, and his grin widened.

“How do you always know?”

“It wouldn’t be any fun if I gave away the secret,” she told him, leaning against the counter. “Ezra’s hot chocolate will be ready any minute.”

Shaking his head as he took a sip of his coffee, Kanan said, “One of these days you’re gonna have to tell me how you know we’re coming.”

“Magic,” Hera deadpanned, and he laughed.

“I almost believe that.”

That was the problem with Kanan. Hera never really knew if he did believe her when she made jokes that weren’t really jokes. He laughed at her jokes, those included. But there was always something that made her wonder, does he know?

He couldn’t. They’d met first seven years ago—a blink of an eye for her, but a long time for humans—and she’d looked nothing like she did not. There was no way he could know, and that was a good thing. The truth about who she was had to remain a secret.

“Hey, are you busy tonight?”

Kanan’s question snapped Hera out of her thoughts, and she looked up at him, surprise flashing through her. “What? Why?”

“I was thinking about how you seem to not know any of the best movies out there,” Kanan explained. “Figured we should fix that. Ezra’s going over to a friend’s house, so you could come over, we could try a few movies—popcorn and snacks guaranteed. What do you think?”

Oh. Hera hesitated, indecision tugging at her chest. “I…don’t know,” she said slowly. What if he finds out? Spending time in close quarters with a guy who may or may not actually know that she was a faerie seemed like a bad idea at the best of times. With Kanan…she couldn’t tell if the fluttering in her stomach was nervousness or excitement at the prospect.

“Hey, no pressure,” Kanan told her. “Just think about it and get back to me. In the meantime, what are the odds we can get some baked goods to go with that hot chocolate?”

The hot chocolate! “Absolutely,” Hera said, turning to head for the kitchen. “Just give me one minute.”

She ducked back into the kitchen, quickly checking the pot she’d left to heat up. Thankfully, she hadn’t been gone long enough for it to start boiling, but it was already heated to the perfect temperature. Carefully, Hera filled a to-go cup, added a few mini marshmallows and a dash of cinnamon, and headed back out of the kitchen.

Ezra had joined Kanan at this point, and his gaze lit up at the sight of her. “Hey, Hera!” he said, scrambling up onto a stool. “Can I have—”

“Hot cocoa, mini marshmallows, cinnamon?” Hera finished, handing him the cup. “Of course.”

Grinning, Ezra said, “You’re awesome, Hera. Thanks.”

“Agreed,” Kanan said, digging through his pockets for a minute before locating his wallet. “Add on a couple of chocolate croissants, and how much do we owe you?”

“About twenty bucks,” Hera said. Or…this is definitely a bad idea. But when has that ever stopped me? “I’ll give you a discount if there’s dinner with that movie tonight, though.”

Kanan’s gaze flashed up to her, and a slow, delighted grin crossed his face. “Sounds like a plan. Should I pick you up?”

Shaking her head, Hera said, “I know the way to your house, dear. What time?”

“Ezra should be leaving around five thirty, so…six?”

“Six sounds good,” Hera said as the bell over the door jingled. “I’ll see you then.”

Sliding her a twenty dollar bill, Kanan said, “See you then, Hera.”

She rang him up quickly, ignoring Zeb’s side eye as he helped the other customers. By the time they were finished, Kanan and Ezra were long gone.

However, that didn’t prevent Zeb from saying, “Tell me you’re not actually going on a date with that guy.”

Rolling her eyes, Hera said, “It’s not a date, Zeb. We’re just seeing a few movies and having dinner.”

“Right. Last I checked, that is the exact definition of a date,” Zeb pointed out. “Look—I like him well enough for a human, but it’s a bad idea.”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing this isn’t a date,” Hera said, and promptly received a deeply skeptical look from him. “It’s not! We’re just friends, and that’s always been clear.”

Sure, he’d flirted a little when they first met, but Hera had made it very clear where they stood, and he’d respected that. Since then, their relationship had changed. Deepened into a real friendship.

Kanan was one of the people she cared about most, in this world or the Other. And truthfully, she was starting to think that she didn’t know what her life would look like without him.

But that didn’t mean this was a date. It didn’t. So Hera firmly put the idea out of her head, and kept working.

The rest of the day slipped by quickly enough, and before she knew it Hera was leaving the coffee shop in Zeb’s capable hands—they really did need to hire more employees, though where they’d find some who were willing to overlook the quirks of two fae pretending to be humans, she didn’t know—and slipping into the apartment she kept above it to change into something a little nicer.

Not date level nicer, obviously. Just a soft, dark blue sweater to keep out the autumnal chill, and clean pants. Pulling her hair out of the dual braids she wore for work, Hera wrapped it back with a green scarf and headed out of the door.

She walked, obviously. It was only a few miles to Kanan’s place from hers, and she didn’t have a car. Though there was a tiny, very un-faerieish part of her that wished she could drive one. The massive machines were fascinating to her, even if touching one could be incredibly painful. But she didn’t go enough places to even pretend to need one, and it was probably better in the long run.

Kanan was waiting for her on the front porch of his massive, slightly run down house when she got there. Hera still wasn’t quite sure what a human with one kid and a grandfather who only occasionally visited was doing with a three story dump like this, but she knew better than to question Kanan’s lack of logic at this point.

“I could have picked you up,” he said. “You wouldn’t have had to walk that far, and it’s getting cold out.”

Hera shook her head, heading up the steps of the porch. “I like walking. And it’s not that cold.” Which wasn’t exactly true—her hands were already ice cold, and she’d been able to see wisps of her breath here and there on the walk in.

Snorting, Kanan said, “Well, that’s a blatant lie. Come on, let’s get you something warm. I can make you coffee.”

Hera laughed. “I don’t actually think you know how to make coffee, dear.”

“Rude,” Kanan responded as they headed into the house. The interior was warmly lit and smelled like something savory and delicious, and Hera was already glad she’d suggested dinner. “How do you think I have coffee when I don’t show up at your shop?”

He led the way into the kitchen, which was painted bright yellow. Hera suspected it was a compromise from when Ezra had suggested orange, knowing the boy as she did. Luckily, it gave the whole place a warm, welcoming feel, and she couldn’t help but be fond of it. Bright colors appealed to the fae, even at their most elegant and refined.

“Are there times when you don’t come to the shop?” she asked Kanan, lifting a very skeptical eyebrow.

Grinning a little, Kanan admitted, “Not really.”

“I figured. Get out the coffee,” Hera commanded, heading for the coffee machine. She’d become pretty adept at working the various machines, and the one at Kanan’s place was as simple as they came. She worked on making the coffee as Kanan pulled the oven open. A wave of the same spicy, savory smell washed out and Hera nearly swooned.

“What is that?” she asked as Kanan examined the dish in the oven.”

“Birria,” Kanan responded, closing the oven. “And it should be ready soon. Seems like it turned out pretty well.”

Frowning, Hera said, “Didn’t you tell me that this takes a lot of prep? And it’s not exactly the kind of meal you’d make for one?”

“Possibly,” Kanan said with an expression that utterly failed to be innocent. “I might have made it with the hopes that you’d be here for dinner. And if you weren’t, you’d get leftovers eventually. Force knows someone needs to feed you—Zeb and the local takeout places can’t be solely responsible for you.”

Rolling her eyes as she pulled a mug out of the cupboard to her left, Hera said, “I’m going to choose to thank you for that instead of taking it as an insult.”

“I would never dream of insulting you, Hera,” Kanan said, accepting the mug of coffee Hera passed him. “Hey—what happened to your hand?”

“What?”

“Your hand,” Kanan repeated, setting his coffee aside and catching hold of her hand before Hera realized what he was doing. Turning it over, he traced a gentle finger over the raised burn on her palm, so light she barely felt it. Hera felt her stomach do a decidedly not unpleasant flip at the touch. Looking up, he raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t try cooking again, did you?”

“Ha,” Hera deadpanned, trying to cover the relief she felt at the joke. It pushed aside a little of the way she felt, with his hand cradling hers and that concerned look in his eyes. Pulling her hand back, she said, “No, I just burned it working. Hazards of the trade.”

It wasn’t like she could tell him that it was from a cast iron pan she’d touched in a store. She hadn’t realized what it was until it was too late, and had barely managed to restrain her gasp of pain. There were salves that soothed iron burns, but fae healing magic didn’t affect that kind of injury. Hera would just have to wait for it to heal like any human.

She couldn’t tell if Kanan believed her excuse or not, so she quickly changed the subject. “Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?”

That brought a grin to Kanan’s face. “Not a chance. You already made coffee—drink some of that and tell me about your day, and that’s enough for me.”

“Not exactly very helpful,” Hera said, taking a seat at the kitchen table anyways and curling her hands around her mug, enjoying the warmth seeping into her fingers. Though it wasn’t much of a replacement for Kanan’s hand around hers.

Enough, she scolded herself, pushing the thought away.

“It’s helpful to me,” Kanan assured her, leaning against the counter. “And it’s mostly a waiting game at this point.”

“Fair enough.” Gathering her thoughts, Hera began to recount some of the events of the day, telling Kanan about the customers who’d stopped in. Most of them had been there a thousand times, but in a small town like Lothal, there was always something new and occasionally crazy going on.

Kanan was a good listener—he asked the right questions, laughed at the right parts. Hera always found herself relaxing in his presence, sharing things she wouldn’t share with anyone else.

It was dangerous. But she couldn’t bring herself to turn away from it.

Dinner was ready in short order, and they feasted on the incredible dish. Kanan’s cooking was always fabulous, and this was no exception. Hera relished every savory, spice-rich bite, and didn’t hesitate to have seconds.

When they’d finished, and she’d helped him tidy up in the kitchen, despite his protests, they headed into the living room, where Hera settled on the couch while Kanan flipped through the DVD collection. “Let’s see,” he mused aloud. “You’ve seen The Princess Bride?”

“Thanks to your never ending rants about it,” Hera said wryly. When she’d first met Kanan, it had become obvious that she had some serious gaps in her knowledge about human life, and she’d done a lot of research. Most of it in the form of watching some of the many movies he’d been horrified to learn she hadn’t seen, and a few extras. 

There were still plenty she hadn’t seen, however, and it wasn’t long before Kanan found one. “Really?” he said, popping in the dish and heading over to drop onto the couch next to her. “You’ve never seen The Mummy?”

“Are we really going to have this conversation again?” Hera returned, and Kanan laughed.

“Fair point.”

They settled in to enjoy the movie, and Hera did, to her surprise. Though she shouldn’t have been—Kanan had good taste, for the most part.  Watching them with him was a new experience, but she liked being able to argue about plot points and joke about parts of the movie with him.

When the first film ended, Kanan put in the sequel—undeniably poorer writing, but equally fun—and made them popcorn. It was late when they finished it, but Kanan managed to convince Hera to start some natural disaster movie that he insisted was a classic.

Classic and fun it may have been, but Hera felt her eyes sliding shut only a little ways in. She jerked awake, suddenly and painfully aware that she’d fallen asleep for a little while.

Lifting a hand to rub the sleep out of her eyes, she registered the weight of something heavy and warm against her shoulder. Glancing to the side, Hera’s eyes widened a little at the sight of Kanan, fast asleep.

It was strange to see him this way. Usually he was so self possessed and confident, upbeat and snarky. Seeing him asleep, hair slipping free of its usual tie, felt…vulnerable.

Almost without knowing why, Hera reached forward and brushed a loose lock of his hair out of his face. Her fingers stilled, tracing along his cheekbone as she studied him, heart beating fast without any real reason.

And then she saw the cord around his neck. The necklace he always wore, keeping it tucked under his shirt. She’d never asked, and he’d never brought it up. But now, slumped to the side like he was, it had slipped out.

It was the passkey.

The blue crystal shimmered even in the dim light, and Hera stared, shocked. She’d suspected, of course, but…He had it all this time?

Why?

It couldn’t be because…no. There was no way.

She lifted her hand, reaching out to touch the passkey. She could take it now and leave, before he even knew what had happened.

Instead, Hera tucked it back out of sight, closed her eyes, and let her head rest against his. When he finally moved again, waking at a loud sound from the TV, she was fast asleep. She didn’t even feel him tuck a blanket around her and settle in to finish the movie, arm resting around her for just a second too long to be anything resembling casual.

No, Hera simply slept, and dreamed, and she would wake the next morning at peace for reasons she couldn’t even fully explain yet.

[strawberijasper]

the post where you talked about it is kind of old, but i was just wondering if you’d share some trans girl!deku thoughts?

Holy shit this is an old ask I’m so so sorry anon!

But I would love to talk about trans girl!deku, I will always jump at any opportunity for me to yap about my hcs/AUs lmao.

My hcs for mtf!Deku vary a lot but what I come back to the most with her is usually how I think UA Deku would navigate being trans. I just think that coming of age story is always interesting, especially as someone who realized I wasn’t cis pretty young.

I feel like Izuku would have started to realize probably in her 2nd or 3rd year at UA, I just think in general Izuku would have realized pretty late (although the idea of Izuku showing up in 1st year fully socially transitioned would be fun, it’s crossed my mind mostly because I think it would be funny from Bakugou’s perspective). I feel like Izuku’s hyperfixation on heroes and becoming a hero would have played a big role in her not even thinking about her gender.

Izuku strikes me as the type to push feelings to the side when she’s got tunnel vision on something. Any “weird” feelings and insecurities she had that weren’t related to being a hero just weren’t as important. It’s very out of sight out of mind I feel. Until later on in highschool, those bottled up feelings of something being wrong would all start bubbling up after years of ignoring them.

It would be little things like lingering a bit too long in front of the mirror while getting ready for class, examining herself a little too closely, scrutinizing every detail that felt wrong but not knowing why. It’s something she would have done for years but just didn’t think about. Or overhearing the other girls in the class talk about their weekend plans, seeing their bond and feeling a pang of jealousy that she can’t explain. Lingering gazes at the girls uniforms or more feminine clothes in general, looks that likely got her teased by her male classmates (Denki, Sero, and Mineta) because they got the wrong idea.

I think she’d start journaling because of this. Izuku I think has a hard time processing her thoughts and feelings, so writing them down helps. It would be like a secret on lock down journal that she doesn’t ever take out of her room. But through that it would help her understand what’s been going on, so research, and realize that those insecurities she’s had her whole life was actually dysphoria.

I think the first people to notice would be Uraraka and/or Bakugou. They’re Izuku’s best friends so of course they’d notice something was up, and Bakugou especially pays way too much attention to Izuku for him not to notice. I’m not sure who she’d tell first though, I want to say Bakugou just because historically he’s been the first to know basically everything about Izuku, but I think it would come down to who confronts her first. But they’d both be supportive.

Uraraka would be more open with her support, she’d reassure Izuku that she loved her and would support whatever she wanted to do. She’d help Izuku out with experimenting with different stuff like her hair, makeup, clothes, etc. Bakugou on the other hand I think would be very awkward if someone were to come out to him, so his response, while supportive, would come off as dismissive. But it’s not, and he makes it very clear in his actions how much he cares about Izuku’s comfort. You’d think that someone who’s known her their whole lives would struggle with accidentally using the wrong pronouns, but I think Bakugou is built different, he’d have no problems whatsoever.

I have more thoughts about her coming out process but this post is running the risk of being only about that. But tl:dr I think the class would be very supportive and would absolutely fight anyone who is transphobic towards her.

I feel like once Izuku is well into her transition she definitely models a lot of her aesthetics after her mom and Uraraka, since they’re like the most important women in her life, plus it helps that Uraraka definitely shares her closet with Izuku.

The girls in UA would have a blast inviting Izuku to their regularly scheduled slumber parties to give her the girlhood experience ever.

I don’t think Izuku would fully transition until after they all graduate, but when she does it’s 100% thanks to Bakugou being fucking crazy. You thought him spending 8 years raising the money to have Izuku’s hero suit made was wild? Try raising the money for her transition on top of that. Bakugou is the definition of a wife guy, “whatever you want my queen” he is capitol w Whipped for Izuku in every universe.

One last thing I will say in this post about Izuku coming out, I think All Might would be, of course, supportive. But I think him and Izuku would have a very emotional, heartfelt conversation about it, they’d both cry and hug. All Might would tell her how proud he is of her, how strong he thinks she is. He would tell Izuku that he believes she’s going to change the world and make waves, not only being quirkless, but also trans. Idk that’s something I think about a lot and it makes me very very emotional.

Anyways, this post is ungodly long I am so sorry anon BRKHFFJF, I tried to reign myself in but nope! Yapper’s gotta yap ig. I hope this is enough mtf!Deku content to make up for the fact that this ask is from October, thank you for the ask and giving me the opportunity to talk about this again!

[phoenixyfriend]

Do you want another Jangosoka concept?

Concept is that Boba finds a… something on Tatooine that looks like Weird Force Shit. He does not know any Jedi or Sith, personally, but he knows three people who do have connections to Jedi:

Han Solo, whom he has on speed dial despite hating each other, and losing most of his contacts with his comm when the Sarlacc ate him

Din Djarin, whose kid goes to school Somewhere With Jedi? Maybe? he's not entirely clear on how much contact Djarin has with Skywalker these days

Bo-Katan Kryze, who has Ahsoka Tano on speed dial

Obviously, he goes through Bo-Katan first, because Ahsoka Tano knows more about general Force things than the latest Skywalker, and has less of a Direct Grudge against Boba himself.

So he makes a call and tries to ignore the Weird Force Thing that he just poked. He waits a few days.

Ahsoka shows up. She holds the thing. It is confusing.

They have a stupid argument built on Uncomfortable History at some point, and Boba being a grump, and he snatches it from her, managing to slice his finger on one of the edges.

A few drops of blood get on the weird force thing, and there is a flash of light, and suddenly there's a half-dead Jango Fett in the room.

Like "He has visible burns on his neck from Mace's lightsaber, but still has his head, as if he was pulled through time from the very moment before of his death."

Which Big Oops

Boba is panicking. Ahsoka is trying not to admit she's freaked out. Jango is. clawing as his throat dude stop that.

Ahsoka's the one that had enough brains to call for a medic and keeps sitting at his side to keep a Very Judgemental Eye on him, but she's. You know. Jedi. So Jango is constantly suspicious of her.

(He thinks Boba is a faulty fast-aging clone, like 99, because that's the only thing that makes sense.) (Also he doesn't acknowledge Ahsoka's "I'm not a Jedi" thing.)

Ahsoka's had thirty years to come to terms with the death of her people but she's also, for obvious reasons, still judgmental as fuck and has a lot of questions.

But also this was necromancy, which is Sith Or Nightsister Bullshit, and she needs to make sure he's not about to get possessed and go hunting for Force Sensitive babies or something insane like that.

(The reason the object drew Jango is because of the totally coincidental identical DNA. Turns out the object is intended to bring back the dead using a body sample of the corpse, but identical blood will do if there's a dead person with the same.)

IDK where exactly it goes from here but it's 44yo Jango, 45yo Boba, and 49 Ahsoka Plus Fennec, who's just hanging around

They need to bring around someone Jango actually knows and will trust, because obviously Boba is a fake and Ahsoka's a liar and this is all some weird Jedi trick.

Options are Maz Kanata (who's definitely old enough to remember him), or Bo-Katan herself, except they try Bo since she's closer and it turns out she was still a toddler when Jango went missing so that's not going to help at all.

Mij or one of the other Cuy'val Dar could theoretically still be alive, and Sabine has parents that might have known him before they joined up with Pre.

Fennec knowing him would be a BIT too easy.

I'm imagining that the call goes as Boba explaining that, well, there's this one guy that he knows, that his dad was close with, but the Sarlacc kind of ate his comm unit and he hasn't had the time or resources to hunt down all his contact numbers and whatnot yet, so he's not sure how to go about actually calling the guy, and so they have to politely ask Bo-Katan if she, as Mand'alor, can find the contact information for one Mij Gilamar. Boba's pretty sure he's still running a clinic on Insert Planet Here, so it shouldn't be too hard to get, it's just kind of impossible from Tatooine.

[strawberrycheeks-and-glasses]

Tsukki x You Drabbles

Most people probably think Tsukishima would be the cruel and snarky jealous type or give the silent treatment and then get you home and suddenly start to devour you and remind you that you’re his and only his.

But what if he’s a sweet lil insecure baby who just needs to know that you’re there and you love him….

“Oh, hi Makoto! Long time no see!” You shout as you hug the man who called your name across the shop.

You and Kei are out Christmas shopping for your families when you ran into an old friend. You have known Makoto since grade school and haven’t seen him years after graduation. He’s grown up, a lot, you notice. Fitting well into a nice tailored suit under a long tan coat.

“It’s been so long,” he smiles at you, holding your shoulders as he takes in your adult figure. “How have you been?”

“I’m doing well, thanks, how are you? How’s the law firm?” You ask him.

Kei comes around the corner to see another man’s arms on you, glaring at you with pointed eyes from where he stops in his tracks. He’s hard to miss in the small shop and you quietly beckon him over.

“Makoto, this is my boyfriend, Tsu-“ you begin to introduce him as he walks up next to you.

“Tsukishima Kei,” he nods, stiffly to the man who was so comfortable groping you in public, but has now since stiffened at the sight of your, very tall, very muscular, boyfriend.

“N-nice to meet you,” Makoto mumbles as he offers his hand in greeting.

Kei ignores the gesture, feigning turning to browse the items next to him as you apologetically smile at Makoto on his behalf.

“Well,” Makoto recovers himself. “Sorry to have interrupted your evening, you two have a good night.”

“It was so good to see you again,” you nod to him as he leaves you and Kei alone again.

“Kei,” you whisper his name to his back that he has turned on you.

Reaching out for his shoulder to turn him to face you, he huffs and walks down the aisle without you. Biting your lip, you silently follow him, preparing yourself for what you know will be a quiet walk home.

Kei is the jealous type. He hates when men compliment you, look at you, or even breathe near you. And every time you interact with another man, you can see him clenching his jaw, and balling his hands into fists at his sides. He can’t hide it from you. Dating for two years, you’ve seen all sides of him.

He barely looks at you, let alone says a word to you. He lets you know that he’s hurt by keeping his distance. Putting up his walls that you spent so much time breaking down, that it hurts you as well. But you know it’s only temporary. He never stays upset, he just needs to process his emotions in his own way, as you’ve learned.

So you let him, as you both casually walk through the shop three feet apart. Watching him from behind as he scans the items on the shelves, not really paying attention to them, just putting on a front that he’s looking for a gift. When really you can see his mind whirling with his thoughts and insecurities.

Kei doesn’t know that you know he’s insecure. He doesn’t know that Yamaguchi once told you, what Kei thinks of himself and why he’s so jealous. He doesn’t know that you know <em>why</em> he built his walls in the first place. So he wouldn’t get hurt. So he would never again have to feel the way he felt all those years ago.

It pains you to know all this. Pains you that he’s never told you any of this himself before. But you let him know you’re not going anywhere by staying by his side, even if it’s three feet apart. You’re his shadow as he walks along, glancing back at you every so often, just to make sure you’re still there.

When you’re ready to leave the store, you silently take his hand in yours and lead him to the exit, walking down the street back to your shared flat.

While you watch him slip off his coat, and hang in on the rack, you softly run your hands downs his back. Wordlessly telling him, you’re with him.

There’s a few seconds of continued silence that fills the space around you two, then he sighs, deeply. The weight of his insecure thoughts finally lifted as you turn him to face you, your hands sliding up his chest to wrap around the back of his neck. Pulling him down to press a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips.

“I love you, Kei,” you whisper in his ear as his arms hold you close, pulling you into him and breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“I know,” he sighs, his voice so small in the crook of your neck that you barely hear him. “I love you,” he kisses into your skin.

Relief washes over you as he lets you back in. His walls coming down around you with every kiss you press into his cheeks, jaw and neck.

“Tell me again?” He breathes, running his fingers through your hair as he stares down at you with his sweet, pleading eyes.

“I am yours,” you kiss into his lips, just as you always do when he gets this way. “And you are mine.”

And just as you always do, you gently lead him to the bedroom to show him just how much you love him.