#and obviously??? because black people matter generally??? even if I wasn’t really into their content I still would be upset

[griancraft]

I wish more people were normal about POC, and specifically black, characters in the MCYT fandom. I mean, for obvious reasons related to CCs and all that, but also bc I often feel like I’m doing something wrong because sometimes I’m one of the only people I know how is getting like? Stimming flappy arms excited about my favourite black characters? It’s not like I’m singling them out either I get the exact same way about my favourite non black characters?

It’s jarring to get into skyjacks and see almost equal amounts of art of Jonnit as everyone else because I’ve been in this weirdly passively racist fandom for so long. People are so weird about like CANON (silly canon but) biggri and they make them weirdly toxic when they were so sweet. If it was Scar and Grian you people would be all over it. And dude fucking whatever happened to the way people drew Ponk. And, it’s not even just black ccs and characters. Don’t get me started on the way a lot of Dteam fans back in the day (and still some qsmp fans) talk about Asian women like Tina.

[moon-light-jukebox]

Germs [Reid x Reader]

this gif isn’t mine

Summary: Reader is sure the resident BAU genius doesn’t like her, but she’s not sure why. But even if he did like her, he’s a germaphobe, so he wouldn’t be comfortable with the things she wants to do to him...would he?

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Rating: Mature 

Category: Fluff and Smut 

Content Warning: Brief mentions of torture and violence, usually criminal minds stuff, nothing explicit. Light choking, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, language (maybe?) 

A/n: I have come out of fan fiction writing retirement for this one. Let me know what y’all think!  masterlist

y/n - your name

y/l/n - your last name

italicized text is Reader’s sassy inner thoughts

---

I’m not sure if I believe in hell, but if there is a hell, I’m sure it feels exactly like Louisiana in July. Every time I walked outside I felt like I was walking into soup. Gross. I couldn’t help but feel guilty over my sigh of relief when I walked back into the local precinct the team was currently working out of. Young women are dying, and I’m worried about a little bit of heat.

But, fuck, it was hot.

Speaking of heat, I thought as I threw open the door to the conference room only to run smack into the hottest thing I’d ever encountered.

“Shit,” I exclaimed before I thought better of it. “I’m so sorry.” I ran my eyes up, up, up, all the way up his body until I met his eyes; those beautiful honey brown eyes that threatened to have me acting like an idiot if I stared into them for too long.  

Dr. Spencer Reid’s cheeks were tinged pink, his posture stiff, his fingers clutching the file he was carrying for dear life. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” he sounded uncomfortable, which made my stomach drop. “My fault.” With that, he quickly maneuvered around me and headed off to complete whatever genius task he had to complete.

My eyes followed him until he was out of sight before I mentally shook myself. ‘C’mon, this is pointless,’ I thought. ‘He doesn’t even like you.’ Which I really thought was true, the good doctor went out of his way to avoid me whenever possible. ‘Plus, he’s a germaphobe.’ This thought was confirmed true. He didn’t shake people’s hands, the only people I’d seen him touch during my time at the BAU were members of the team that he’d known for years, and some of those even seemed reluctant.

Admittedly, I didn’t know a lot about germaphobia; since I couldn’t ask the only genius I knew, I did the next logical thing. I googled it. Every person I’d read about seemed to experience germaphobia differently. Some people could have sex, but others were grossed out by the very idea. Knowing my luck, Spencer Reid and his beautiful hands, and his soulful eyes, and his cheekbones that could cut glass was in the repulsed by sex category. Which is fine! Right, it is fine to not be interested in sex; the only problem was I was very interested in every part of him.  

Maybe he thinks I’m gross. Maybe I stink? Maybe he’s just repulsed by my very presence. Regardless, I couldn’t see Spencer Reid ever shoving me against a wall and fucking me senseless.

I sighed, making my way over to the conference table, pulling out a chair before I flopped into it. I could feel the exhaustion settling into my bones. We had been in Louisiana for almost a week now and we were still no closer to finding our unsub. He was a white man, he worked in a lower-paying job, and he hated women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow it down much.

The unsub was targeting women in clubs and bars, following them outside before he bashed them on the back of the head. After that, he threw the girls over his shoulder and took them to his car; he moved them to a secondary location before he tortured them. The first two victims had survived. They were traumatized, but they were fighters; they both said the same things, ‘he kept my eyes covered the entire time,’ “I never saw his face,’ ‘I did whatever he told me to do.’

We thought the killing of the third victim had been an accident, but that accident had excited our guy enough that he changed his ritual; the killing was crucial now. We had 4 bodies, 2 live victims that couldn’t tell us anything, and no leads.

Sighing, I leaned forward, bringing the heels of my hands to my eyes. I hated feeling helpless. The answer to who this fucker was is in this evidence somewhere and I will find it. If it’s the last thing I do.

The doors swung open again, pulling me from my thoughts. Hotch lead the parade of people, followed by Morgan, JJ, and Dr. Reid. Our unit chef looked gravely serious…not that that necessarily meant anything, in the 6 months I’d been with the behavioral analysis unit I hadn’t seen him have any other expression.

Morgan pulled out his phone, hitting what I suspected was speed dial number 1. “Hey baby girl,” he said, without his usual swagger; even he was tired. “You’re on speaker. You’ve got me, Hotch, JJ, Reid, and Y/l/n.”

“And I have the always wonderful Emily Prentiss, and the dashing David Rossi on the line, effectively putting my favorite people together again, as they should be,” Garcia quipped. I don’t think she meant to include me in her list of ‘favorite people,’ but it made me smile anyway. “Okay, crime fighters, what’s the play?”

“We’re still no closer to finding the unsub,” Hotch began. “He’s highly organized, methodical, and paranoid; but he hasn’t killed in 3 days, this is a break from his escalation pattern. He’s going to strike soon.” Hotch leaned over resting his palms on the shiny fake wood of the conference table. “Our best chance is to send an agent out there as bait.” There was a general murmur of agreement before he continued on. “Garcia, we need you to find all of the night clubs, bars, and whatever else you can think of in the updated comfort zone.”

The sound of keys clicking made its way through the speaker. “Assuming we’re excluding the places he’s already hit, that leaves us with 3 possibilities.”

“So far he hasn’t struck a place twice,” Prentiss chimed in. “Do we think he’s going to hold to that pattern?”

Reid moved over to the board where the map of the county was displayed. “I think so. This guy is too careful to risk going to a place where he’s been before. The chance of him being recognized is too great, especially when everyone is on high alert.” He gestured to the area he had circled on the map. “His pattern seems to be focusing in on this center point right here,” he said, placing a pin in the map. “This area means something. Garcia, what is the closest club or bar to the intersection of Washington Avenue and Harrison Street?”

“That would beeeeee…The Blue Fox.”

“That’s where he’ll be,” Dr. Reid said confidently, his eyes moving to Hotch’s face.

The older man nodded. “It’s our best lead so far, we have to run with it.”

“It’s Friday night,” Rossi pointed out. “We’ll have to act soon.”

Hotch nodded, seeming to be lost in thought. “We need to send agents in there tonight. We know the victims were all on dates or flirting with a man right before their abduction. He targets women that are happy with their companions then waits til he can separate them.”

“Who are you planning on sending in, Hotch?’ JJ questioned.

“Y/l/n is the youngest, she fits the build of the previous victims the best.” His heavy gaze rested on me. “What do you think?”

Like it was even a choice. “I’m in.”

Hotch nodded, accepting my answer. “Good. You’ll partner with Reid.”

“What?!” I squawked, much to my embarrassment. I cleared my throat before I continued. “But, Reid and I…I just thought Morgan would be the obvious choice.” Fuck, I’m just digging a bigger hole.

Morgan gave me an easy smile. “You’re just saying that because you wanna see my moves, little mama.”

Hotch cleared his throat, bringing our attention back. “Morgan is too intimidating; the unsub might not move in if he feels too threatened. You’ll go with Reid.” When he was met with silence he continued on, “alright, let’s get to work.”

-

And that is how I wound up in a club in Louisiana on a Friday night, in a tight black dress, with Spencer Reid beside me. After he walked into the club holding my hand. He doesn’t hold hands, I cringed internally at the thought. He must feel so uncomfortable.

He waved the bartender over, ordering a drink for me and a water for himself before turning to me. “I thought a drink would loosen you up a bit. You look nervous.”

I am nervous. “Right. Thanks.” I drummed my fingers on the bar, my gaze sweeping around the club for anyone who seemed out of place and especially creepy. Most lone men at clubs and bars were creepy, but we need especially creepy.

“Is that because you don’t think I can have your back?”

My head snapped back around. “What?”

Spencer paused to accept the drinks from the bartender, sliding him the money. “In the conference room. You seemed upset that Morgan wasn’t going to be your partner,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Is that because you think I wouldn’t have your back?”

Fuck. I blushed to the roots of my hair. “No, Spencer! God no! It’s not that, I know you’d have my back.” I took a sip of my drink before I said anything else. “It’s just that…you don’t seem to like me very much, and I know you have a thing about germs, and I thought maybe that’s why you didn’t like me.” I was babbling; I was absolutely babbling. “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, that’s all. Morgan has never seemed uncomfortable around me, so…” I trailed off lamely.

The corners of his lips quirked up in amusement. “So, you didn’t want to partner with me on this because you didn’t want me to be uncomfortable?”

I nodded, fidgeting with the straw in my drink.

Spencer moved closer to me, his right hand coming to rest on the small of my back. He seemed as calm as he could be, meanwhile I suddenly had trouble breathing.

It’s for the case. He has to do this for the case. Calm down.

"What do my issues with germs have to do with this?" he wondered, leaning closer to me. I could feel his breath on my neck; my skin broke out in goosebumps.

Double fuck. “Well, we’re supposed to be…together. And you think I’m gross. What if you have to kiss me?” TRIPLE FUCK. “Not that we’d have to kiss,” I tried to backpedal. “But we might, you never know. And I just didn’t…I don’t want you to dislike me more than you do.”

The teasing smile slipped from his face, the fingers on my lower back flexing slightly. He regarded me with a tilt of his head. "You're serious?" At my shaky nod, he continued. "Y/n, I don't think you're gross."

“You don’t?” I squeaked.

He lifted his hand from my back then, sliding it up to my shoulder, his free hand moving from the bar to rest on my hip. Spencer brushed my hair back before he leaned forward. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I felt his lips touch the tender skin of my neck. My eyes fluttered shut, unable to suppress a gasp at the contact. Spencer Reid’s beautiful lips slid down to the place where my neck and shoulder met, then I felt his teeth nip the skin before he placed another kiss there. He worked his way back up towards my ear, the hand on my hip moving slightly so he was almost grabbing my ass. “I don’t think you’re gross,” he breathed, causing me to shudder. I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Germs don’t bother me in that way, especially around people I know. I wouldn’t have a problem kissing you, baby.”

I was going to need new panties after this. Spencer Reid, awkward, sweet, Dr. Spencer Reid just called me Baby.

“…Oh.” Really, y/n. Oh; you went with oh?

The good doctor pulled back, his face close enough to mine that I could see that he had freckles under his eyes and that those beautiful eyes got more golden towards the center. "Oh."

-

Michael Watkins was the name of our unsub. He was a short white man with a receding hairline and a bad temper. His last relationship had ended 3 months before the first attack; Spencer was right to pick this bar. Shortly after he tried to make my pussy combust with his neck kisses, Reid suggested I walk to the bathroom, assuring me he’d be watching if anyone followed.

Watkins’ hand was in my hair, dragging me outside before I made it to the ladies’ room. I felt a jolt of fear as I struggled to escape, strands of hair being ripped from my head. I shouldn’t have worried, because no sooner had the outside door opened than I heard the velvety voice of Derek Morgan. “FBI! Put your hands where we can see them.”

He attempted to run. Why would anyone try to run from Derek Morgan?  

After the medics confirmed I was okay, I was sent back to the hotel while the rest of the team went with the local police to book Watkins and try to get a full confession.

“Good work,” Hotch said, his hand clapping down on my shoulder.

The highest praise I’ll ever need.

I hopped into the shower right when I got back to my room, not wanting Watkins’ touch on me for a moment longer.

Spencer’s touch, however,…That was a touch I wouldn’t mind having on me. But he’d barely looked at me once he made it outside. I knew he was being affectionate in there because of the case, we were playing a role. I knew that. I still couldn’t stop the twinge of hurt I felt.

But he doesn’t think I’m gross. That had to count for something.

I had just got done blow drying my hair enough so that it wouldn’t look too crazy when I woke up when there was a knock on my door. Figuring it was Emily, I didn't consider the fact that I was in my pajamas, and my face was scrubbed free of makeup.  

It wasn’t Emily. Spencer Reid stood on the other side of my door, his eyes running down my body before he met my bewildered stare again. “You look comfy,” he commented with that damn little smile on his lips again.

“Oh. Yeah. I took a shower.” Way to go, y/n, you’re really killing it tonight.

“I see that,” he said, his cheeks going a little bit pink. “Can I come in? I thought we should talk.” Was he nervous? Why would he be nervous?

I ushered him in, shutting the door behind him. He sat on the bottom edge of my bed; his body angled towards the headboard. I briefly debated about where to sit before I joined him. Don’t make it weird, y/n.

He cleared his throat before he began. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight. I just wanted to make sure we got the guy.”

Right. “Oh, it’s okay, Spencer. I get it. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” I picked at the frayed edge of my sleep shorts, my eyes dropping so he didn’t see anything on my face that betrayed how I was feeling; you can’t be too careful around profilers.

His hand reached out to cover my own fidgeting hands, one of his hands covering both of mine. His hands were so big. His fingers were so long, the veins in his hands were so pronounced. I bet those fingers would feel really – FOCUS.

“I’m also sorry you thought I didn’t like you.” His thumb had started to move slowly over the back of my hand. “I do like you. I like you a lot, actually. I just…” I brought my gaze back up to meet his eyes. “I just get nervous sometimes.”

“You didn’t seem nervous in the club.”

“No,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t nervous then because it was my job. I wasn’t worried about misreading a signal…doing the wrong thing…I’m not the best with social cues.” I had noticed that about him before. “But I am a really good profiler.” And he’s humble too, apparently.

“I know that you couldn’t fake your reaction to me in the club. Your breathing became quicker, I felt your pulse jump under my lips when they were on your neck. I saw how blown your pupils got." He shifted closer to me then, bringing his other hand up to push my hair behind my shoulder like he did earlier in the night. "Just like they are now."

He leaned closer to me, his voice was lower, and it made my stomach flutter. "You're clenching your thighs together, Y/n. Your shirt may be baggy, but I can see how hard your nipples are too." His tongue ran out to wet his lips. "If I'm wrong, just tell me now. If I've misread this, I will leave right now, and we can pretend this never happened." Spencer brought both his hands up to cradle my face; despite how wet my panties were, how tight my nipples are, how badly I wanted him to touch me, this gesture made me feel special. He was holding me like he actually cared about me like I was precious. "But, if I'm not wrong, and you want this too, Y/n, tell me. Tell me you want this too and I won't stop touching you until you scream my name."

I let out a soft whimper then. Like it’s a choice. “I want this,” I leaned into his touch. “Please, Spencer.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please, what, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than his lips were on mine. His lips were softer than I imagined, they were firm and almost…questioning. When I nipped at his bottom lip, something seemed to break free inside of him. His lips slanted over mine with a hunger I had never felt. His tongue ran over my bottom lip before I opened for him. Spencer’s tongue moved into my mouth while his hands moved; one hand moved back to grip my hair at the base of my skull, tugging firmly, the other moved down to my neck, not applying any pressure, just resting it there in a gesture that felt possessive.

The need for oxygen broke us apart, his lips moving across my cheek to my jaw, then down to my neck. “How could you think I didn’t like you?” he mumbled into my skin. “You have no idea what you do to me. None.”

I threw my head back when he sucked on my pulse point, a moan ripping from my throat. “W-what…what do I do?”

Pulling back from me, he gripped the bottom of my shirt, looking at me for consent before he pulled it over my head. His eyes were firmly on my chest, his lips parted, his breathing heavy. He pushed me down slowly on the bed; I was on my back and he was hovering over me. I felt his mouth place hot, wet, kisses from my collarbone down towards my breasts. His right hand landed on my breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over my nipple while his lips moved closer and closer to my left. I tangled my hands in his hair, urging him forward.

“You want to know what you do to me?” he raised his head slightly, making sure my eyes were on him when he flicked his tongue over my nipple, causing me to gasp. “What do you do to me in your little skirts, with your little smiles, and your little laughs?” He gave my nipple a sharp pinch. “You’re all I fucking think about, y/n.” With a growl, he finally took my nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue. He switched to the other breast while he adjusted himself over me, bringing his pelvis down to rest at the seam of my body between my thighs. I shifted restlessly under him, trying to grind my pussy against him. He was so fucking hard.

With a groan, he lifted his head and started kissing his way towards the middle of my chest, moving down to the curve of my stomach. “Do you know how many times I came back to my hotel room after spending all day with you and was so hard I had to cum before I could think of anything else?” he peppered kisses down my body as he spoke.

My eyes shot open at this confession that he seemed to think was no big deal. “What?” I couldn’t believe this. “You…you touched yourself and thought of…”

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and panties, taking my raised hips as an invitation to remove both from my body. "You. I thought of you." He threw my clothes on the floor, pulling my legs open. His eyes moved over all of me, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. “I thought about kissing you. About making you squirm for me.” He ran his fingers up and down my thighs, his mouth running slowly over my inner thighs. Spencer’s hands hooked around my upper thighs, moving me to where he wanted me. “But, most of all, I thought about this pretty pussy.” He placed a kiss on my clit, chuckling at the wanton moan that came from me and how my fingers tangled in his soft brown curls. “I thought about all the different ways I could make this pretty pussy cum all over me.” With that, he ran his tongue up my slit before flicking it over my clit.

Dr. Spencer Reid was good at everything, so of course, he was good at this too. His mouth moved over me, watching my reaction to see what I liked best. His tongue moved in circles around my clit before slipping down to my opening. His tongue plunged inside me, fucking me, while his thumb came over to rub my clit.

“Spence- fuck- Spencer, please.” My hips tried to shift restlessly, but his arms were iron bars holding me still. He slowly moved his left forearm to rest across my hips, bringing his right hand down to my throbbing pussy. He pulled his mouth away from me, much to my dismay. He pushed one finger, then another into me. My head thrashed wildly, and my thighs started to shake. “Spencer!”

He just smirked and curled his fingers, hitting the spot inside me that made everything in my body pulse. “What, baby?”

My breaths were coming in gasps, my voice was a needy whimper. “Make me cum, Spencer. Please, please make me cum.”

He needed no other encouragement. His fingers continued their steady thrust in and out of me while his mouth covered my clit again. He alternated between flicking my clit with his tongue, then circling it before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly.

“Spencer.” I felt my orgasm rising. “Spencer don’t- don’t stop. I’m gonna cum, please make me cum.”

He kept his pace steady, sucking on my clit, moaning at my words. His eyes had been closed, but at that moment they opened and met mine. Then I felt his teeth ghost over my clit, I saw the want in his eyes. That was my undoing. My back arched, my mouth hung open in a silent scream. I heard myself say his name over and over again. Spencer pushed his fingers inside me, massaging me through the most powerful orgasm I had ever had. With one final kiss on my oversensitive clit, he withdrew his fingers, putting them into his mouth to suck my orgasm off of them.

He kissed back up my body, and I tried to respond, but I was still so shattered. I had never felt anything so powerful before. He cupped my face in one hand and kissed me slowly. I returned the kiss, moving my hands to the buttons of his shirt.

Spencer broke the kiss, pulling back to look at me again. “Hang on, baby.” His hand came up to still my own. “We can take a second. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

This beautiful man smiled at me then. I felt my heart flutter when he leaned down to pepper soft kisses along my jaw, his thumb coming up to wipe a tear that fell from the corner of my eye that I hadn’t even noticed.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. He shifted to lay beside me, whispering reassurances to me while I came back down. This was just one of the ways that Spencer was so different from every other man. I didn't feel rushed, or pressured. I could feel how hard he still was, I could feel the tension in his body, but he simply kissed me while he cupped my jaw.

He made me feel…cherished.

I moved my hands to tangle in his hair again, deepening our kiss. He didn’t move my hands away when I started to work on the buttons of his shirt. The fire that I thought had been calmed by my orgasm had come roaring back. Spencer moved his hands to his belt while I finished with his shirt. His shirt came off, tossed in the same direction as my clothes. I pulled his pants and boxers down his legs, watching his cock spring free.

Everything about him was painfully beautiful. His angular cheekbones, the jaw that looked like it was carved from granite, even the toned muscles of his body. He had a small trail of hair that went down from his belly button to his groin. His cock laid against his stomach, the head glistening with precum.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, kneeling beside him, running my eyes over his body.

His soft hand came to grab mine, pulling it to his lips. He kissed the back of my hand, smiling softly at me.

I moved to straddle him, lower on his thighs. I took him in my hand, moving up and down, twisting my wrist as I neared the tip, swiping my thumb over his head.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Y/n, as much as I want you to do…whatever the fuck you want with me, I’m so close. I feel like I’m going to explode.” I bit into my bottom lip, unable to totally stop the smile spreading over my face. “Please, I need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock.” He moved his hands to my hips, urging my body forward.

I raised up on my knees, taking him in my hand again, lining him up with my entrance. The tendons in his neck were strained, his fingers gripped my hips so hard I knew I was going to have bruises tomorrow. As I slowly started to sink down on his cock, Spencer let out the sexiest groan I had ever heard. His eyes were fixed where our bodies were joined, watching his dick slid deeper inside of me.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “You’re doing so good. Just a little bit more.”

He was so long, he wasn't overly thick, but just thick enough to cause a pleasurable stretching when he breached me that was almost painful. I gasped out a sound that might have been his name when he bottomed out inside me. I slowly circled my hips, adjusting to him. Spencer’s nails dug into my hips as he forced himself to stay still.

“Please move, y/n. Please. You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned as my walls fluttered around him. “Do you like it when I talk to you? Does that make your pretty pussy wetter?” He smirked at my whimper as I tightened around him.

I began at a slower pace, trying to tease him. Spencer quickly lost patience with that; he thrust his hips upwards, meeting my movements, his hands pushing me down onto him. I leaned forward, bracing on hand on his shoulder, the other on the bed. He pounded into me while I tried to match his pace. Spencer’s hand moved from my hip up to wrap around my throat. I nodded, forcing my eyes to stay open as he moved inside me.

His fingers squeezed slightly, pulling my face closer to his. Our lips met in a sloppy kiss. My thighs burned from matching his movements. “You feel so fucking good, y/n.” His grip on my neck tightened ever so slightly, which only heightened my arousal. “I want to feel you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

He flipped us over quickly, never pulling completely out of me. Spencer moved to push my legs further apart, the change in angle allowing him to fill me deeper than I thought possible. His hair was sticking to his brow, his cheeks were flushed, his breathing erratic. He was the most fucking beautiful thing I had ever seen.

One hand held my leg, the other went down to my pussy, his thumb moving over my clit at a rapid pace. “Tell me what you need, Pretty Girl. Tell me how to make this pretty pussy cum all over me.”

I whined at his words. “Spencer, I-“ my voice broke off. I was so fucking close. "I need you." He seemed to understand my broken plea. He brought his body down, his chest flush against mine. He rocked into me at such a fast and hard pace. His hand still in between us rubbing circles around my clit.  

I felt his lips ghost over my ear. “I want to fucking hear you, y/n.” His speed increased, his thrust getting choppier. He was close. “I want this whole fucking town to hear what you sound like when I make you cum. When you cream all over my dick, I want you to scream my name.” With that, he moved his mouth down my neck. He bit the same tender area he had kissed in the club, where my neck met my shoulder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck yes, Spencer!" I felt myself begin to splinter apart. “Please make me cum, fuck please.” My babbling finally broke as my orgasm tore through me. I couldn’t hear his deep groan when I came, my scream was too loud. I felt the vibration against my neck. It was only as I started to float down that I realized my nails were dug into his back. With a few last thrust and my name on his lips, I felt Spencer pulse, cumming inside me.

We lay there for a few minutes, just breathing before he rolled off of me. I felt overwhelmed, so I was relieved when he tugged me over to him. He wrapped his arm around me when I laid my head on his chest. I felt his lips on my forehead. “It’s very important for women to urinate after sexual intercourse to avoid UTIs, but you have another minute or so before that becomes more urgent.”

I couldn’t control my laugh at his comment. "Thanks, Doc." I kissed his chest. "Only you could make me cum so hard I almost blackout, then go back to being…you." I slowly untangled myself from him, going to the bathroom to handle business. When I returned, I found Spencer where I left him, his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, one hand resting behind his head, the other over his heart. He looked so lost in that moment.

“Spencer?” I asked, crawling on to the bed. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t pretend that something wasn’t bothering him. “When you said that I just go back to being me…Do you not like that?”

My heart broke a tiny bit at the question. “Spencer, no! I love that! I love your little facts and statistics!” How did he not know that? “The best part of my day is listening to you talk. Just being with you is wonderful.” I cupped his face, bringing his gaze to mine. “Sure, I like what we just did; but I liked you before that. I want both.” Fuck. “Assuming you want me,” I rambled quickly. “This doesn’t have to mean anything, I know that it doesn’t always-“

He cut me off by pressing his lips to mine in the sweetest kiss I had ever felt. It was filled with hope and promise and…Spencer.

“It means everything to me, Y/n.”

-

I didn’t see the rest of the team until the next morning when we all boarded the jet; I was so ready to go home. I personally didn’t think anything appeared that different. Spencer sat beside me on the couch, but that wasn’t weird…right? We were just co-workers, sitting beside each other super casually. Had we spent most of last night and a little bit of this morning screwing each other’s brains out? Certainly. But you couldn’t see that…right?

Morgan’s chuckle is what confirmed I was so wrong. “Hey, y/l/n,” he called, smiling so hard it looked like his face would split from his amusement. “You missed a spot.” He pointed towards his own neck.

There was a beat of silence before Hotch snorted. SSA Aaron Hotchner, the man who never found anything funny was laughing at me.

I felt myself turn tomato red, angling my body towards Spencer’s, burying my head against his shoulder, away from the rest of the team.

“I bet you’re glad pretty boy was your partner now, huh?”

I may have wanted to melt into the floor in embarrassment, but it was sort of worth it to see the blush on Spencer’s cheeks.

--

[kim-monsterlings]

Danon - M Hellhound x F Human (Reader) // NSFW

The pictures do not belong to me. I only created the mood board. Do not repost my work anywhere.

Content: NSFW/Lemon; injury (brief, not to reader), mild aggression, mentions of death, soul bonding, fluff, receiving oral, penetrative sex (+ knotting), marking (no biting - tattoo), more fluff to top it off, with the NSFW only at the very end - (if there is anything else anyone would like tagged here that I haven't caught, let me know!)

Wordcount: 3715

Masterlist

 The creature rested at your front door had been your shadow for some time now.

 The raven fur thick at its scruff tinged with a crimson the nearer you came, and though you doubted its domesticity - its claws were far too long for any house pet, not to mention in place of fluffy ears were ram horns, wide and curled back to its neck - you still felt sympathy for the creature, wounded as it was.

 You first saw it nearly a month ago, trailing at your shadow when the evening fell into night. If the creature had wanted to have you then, it would have. The flash of fanged teeth hadn't been so unusual, until the muzzle almost tore back, sinew and tendons sewing flesh together, up to it skull. Then you'd known it wasn't quite a dog, nor some odd breeding anomaly, and had fought to ignore the memory.

 Until the creature was at your backdoor come dawn when you went to the river for water and herbs for medicine. You were no healer, not properly, but your parents had passed down knowledge you cherished and made use of. Poultices ready-made waited for collection, all the while your stalker sat by the tree line, waiting; you weren't sure what for.

 To see it so defeated when it was usually full of life tugged you down to your knees. The first time you had confronted it - in a rage of foolishness, really, considering how lucky you had been to avoid any harm at its infliction, the creature had staggered back almost in shock at having stones thrown, before letting loose a growl so low your muscles locked, and you thought then you had incited your own death, as its muzzle nudged up at your fist, the creature large enough to come to your hips like a pony.

 The memory was nothing now. You whispered, hoping to soothe the dog-like demon when you brushed its fur. It gave a low whine, and tail thin like a whip with an arrowed tip tucked neater to its belly. Whatever it was, was decisively male, but your focus was more on the scratches curled deep into its stomach, and the wound on its throat must have been from another creature of the same kind.

 "Hey, boy," you said and offered your hand for him to sniff. The notion struck you as pointless; obviously he recognised you, laying at your door after following for so long, but the press of a hot nose was more reassurance to you than anything. "Stay still. You'll be okay, boy."

 The idea of letting him inside was daunting, but you couldn't just leave him there to die. No matter why he followed you, he had come to you now for help, and you pressed onto his back carefully. When he snarled, you winced through gritted teeth.

 "Come on, boy." You tucked your hands beneath his back enough to encourage him up. Your door was open. All he had to do was collapse inside. "Go on-"

 With a pitiful whine, he fell heavily against your thigh as you led him in. He managed to carry himself to the fireplace before landing with a thud, and though he still breathed, you weren't surprised to find him now unconscious.

 Treating a dog was different from humans but you made do with what you had, and you couldn't do anything more than that. What you noticed, even as you tried not to, was the thick stench of something foul and smoky on washing away blood, and something about it twisted at you. Like it was unnatural. There wasn't anything natural to a dog of his size, with horns and a tail like that, nor a muzzle so wide and sharp, but you had already invited him in and tended to his wounds, so you moved on.

 You left a bowl of water and some old meat at his side but when you retreated to your room, sharp canines snatched your wrist. His eyes flicked up to you, a bright, burning red against his ashen body. When you conceded and sat at his side, a soft whimper enticed your fingers to his scruff, careful to avoid the horns and shallow wound.

 "You're okay," you hummed, holding still when he inched close enough to lay a heavy head on your thighs. "You'll be okay, boy. You’ll be healthy again, and you won't even try to eat me, will you? No," you whispered, and spoke until his eyes fell shut.

 That night you spent curled uncomfortably back against the sofa, falling in and out of a restless sleep. You woke before dawn to find the beast gone, and in his place was a man. The first, natural instinct that came to you was to scream; his head was nuzzled against your thighs, a hand curled at your hip and clutching loosely, but the familiarity struck you before the screech came.

 His body was the same black of his fur, a rich, almost obsidian, but the giveaway was the tail twined to his bare legs. Even still, his mouth seemed off, a little too wide, and the short nubs at his temples, though dramatically smaller horns, were the same.

 So you yawned, snatching the blanket off the sofa and laying it across his thin body, too. Waking hours later with daylight on your face, you were alone. He had rested you on the sofa with a pillow beneath your head and the blanket up to your neck. It melted away remnants of fear, after being alone with not only some demonic hound, but a strange man, too, more than capable of harming you.

 It was a struggle to continue your day as you normally would, but it was a weekend, so a short trip out was all you needed. You were back before midday but still alone. Alone until well into the evening, almost convinced it had been a fever dream until you had finished changing into comfortable clothes, and the silhouette standing in your kitchen turned, tail wound at his bare ankle.

 "Oh."

 The tail flicked and he watched you with glowing eyes, which darted back from you to the door. "If you would rather I leave-"

 "No. No, stay." His head canted much like it had when he was the creature, and you smiled, offering him a change of clothes you had bought; not so much a change, but something to cover up with. "I'd like the company, and an explanation."

 He apparently had no shame, and you had to admit, he needn't have any. His body was taut, and once more you were drawn to admiring him. The clothes hung off his frame, adding to his general unruliness - his hair particularly, ruffed with thick curls nearly enshrouding the nubby horns.

 The stranger was a foot or so taller than you, stiffening when you reached out towards him. He blinked when you introduced yourself, before whispering, "my name is Danon. It's okay," he said, and tipped his head down.

 They were rough, thick at the base, and Danon's breath caught when you stroked up to the tips. Horns of a devil, yet he stood before you still weakened by wounds visible, though closed over at his throat, at least. No blood stained the white shirt yet, so you instead moved past to make a drink for you each.

 "Start from the beginning, Danon."

 His lips twitched, though the smile didn't last. "I am a hellhound. We guide souls on from their lives here. My life is owed to you."

 You sipped in quiet until it helped calm your thoughts. Sat opposite a hellhound, you needed the strength. "Sounds lonely."

 His voice trembled. "It is."

When Danon chose not to elaborate, you embraced the quiet. He had only sniffed at the tea, but you wouldn't force him to drink it. With his hands so large, clawed, the mug shrunk between them.

He still remained quiet, so you watched him carefully and said, "you followed me for a month."

 "It was meant to be you."

 Danon's lips pulled back like he was snarling down at his mug, but the action somehow only made a smile grow on your face. He snapped his head up, slamming the mug down hard enough the handle shattered free.

 "It was your life I was sent for. Not the elder man. You. Say something," he bit out, a snarl coming audibly now when you just looked at him, heart-pounding but face unchanging. "Is that it? You don't care about your own life? I could snatch it from you now, leave you there breathless until-" he bit his cheek sharp as his tail swung out in short whips. "I chose to give you time."

 The only sound you could make was a breathless, "why?"

 "I watched you long before revealing myself."

 "Oh, don't tell me," you cut in, rolling your eyes. "You fell in love with me? Is that it?"

 "Yes."

 "Very funny," you snapped, and Danon's throat bobbed. Like you had done, he said nothing, and you began to grip your mug tighter. "Tell me you're lying. You killed someone because you love me?"

 "His time had come. I sent him in place of your soul. The world cannot lose you. The way you care for these people… not one other soul is so caring. You deserve to live."

 "But he didn't?"

 Danon's long tipped ears twitched, almost pinning back once your voice sharpened. He thumbed the crack in the mug with his claw and grunted, "we can claim a soul. I fought for yours and until I choose to let you pass," he glanced up, finding your face ashen. "You will live. The elder was sickly. Longer for him would be a cruelty. His soul was so far gone I couldn't resist guiding him. It's like… like an itch."

 Questions sprouted endlessly the more he spoke, and you fully intended to return to the matter of him claiming your soul, but he hunched over, and you wondered if it took a toll on him, being the one to cart people from this life. Better to have a guide than not, but your mind drifted to the man whose passing you'd heard of nearby; very old, very sick, and in a way, it was an easing of pain.

 "Don't I itch?"

 His warm laughter came as a surprise. Danon's tail swayed gently. "No. You're like a beacon to me. I need to scratch the itch, but your soul is where I return to. When you healed me, you accepted my claim. For simplicity," he murmured, canting his head a little to hold your eyes. "We are bound, 'til death do us part. It is late."

 Like that, Danon dismissed the questions burning in your mind. He rose, his form slender and lean, before rounding the table towards you. His claws pressed beneath your chin and he fell low, so close his breath brushed your face. The warmth in your stomach tightened your chest. If Danon lowered himself a little more, you would lean into his kiss without pause.

 "I will never apologise for choosing you."

 Sleep evaded you for a long time. Knowing that a creature of hell was resting in the lounge gave you plenty to torment over, and like he knew, the soft padding of paws entered your room. The beast huffed a heavy breath against your hand before curling at the foot of your bed, a weight that left you curled into yourself. His presence was a comfort, even as you struggled to stop thinking of him.

 He loved you. He loved you, and he had bound your souls together.

 Sometime in the night as your thoughts became heavier, the bed dipped. The creature rose, a yawn baring sharp teeth in a display that had frightened you nights ago, before whining quietly. He nudged at your arm until you let him lay close, nosing at your throat and whining again until you were able to rest.

 Danon wasn't by your side when you woke. There wasn't a trace of him left. The shattered mug had been cleared away, the smoky scent that followed him was gone, and the comfort with it. You almost thought it had been a dream, a delirious lie after being alone too long, and forced yourself to go about your day as you would normally. If Danon came home, it would be of his own choice.

 He staggered into your room three nights gone and collapsed to his knees in reaching out to you. It was the thick of night, so you woke with a cry at somebody waking you. Danon caught your face in clammy palms and hushed you. It was without a word that you kicked back the sheets for him, and he crawled beside you - bare, but so exhausted you couldn't find it in you to care as he clutched you tight with a rough sigh.

 It wasn't the time for questions, but you leaned back as far as you could with his arms snaked against you, brushing your hand against his burning cheek. "I missed you."

 His glowing eyes blinked down at you. "You missed me?"

 You hummed and leaned into his chest. "Did you have an itch?"

 His chest rose beneath you but it was answer enough. Danon's kiss was tentative, pressed to your temple like a breath, fleeting when he laid his cheek to your crown. "I missed you, too."

 "Tell me what it means to have my soul claimed."

"Come morning, you may ask me anything."

 "Will you be here?"

 The hellhound paused a breath. "I'm never far," he said, but it was answer enough as you woke entwined, cheek to his shoulder and with a tail draped over your hips.

 For a creature of hell, sunlight blessed him. The sharp angles of his face looked softer in the golden hue, and you were free to admire him until he grumbled and peeked open an eye at you. Danon's brows dipped when he found you already awake, but you were quick to catch his arm before he could lean away.

 "I fought for the right to your soul," he murmured, thick with sleep and slightly slurred. "It is mine. Nothing can take you without me releasing you."

 "Don't I own my own soul?"

 "It is mine," he said against the pillows, grumbling and turning away. Though as he fought to muffle himself, his arm around you tightened. "Pretty soul, too."

 "Am I immortal?" Danon breathed a laugh. His tail flicked down your legs and he shook his head. "Are you?"

 "If I wish to pass on, I may."

 The words were rough and muffled now he had found a spot on the pillow to hide from the light, but you spoke still. If he was in your bed, he would answer your questions. "Will you pass on when I do?"

 He hummed, "I might." You frowned, and he let out a rumble of a growl, turning fully from the pillow. Danon rose over you until you were laid back beneath him. "It is dependent on you."

 "Me?" You blanched, "why me?"

 "How attached I am. I never," he growled, and would have lurched back if not for your touch brushing his arm. "I never intended to claim someone. Your soul is my burden-"

 "I'm a burden?"

 Danon snarled, but you bit back a smile at the gesture. He brought himself close, forehead to yours, and whispered, "I loved you before claiming you. That is my burden alone. May I?"

 Throat tight, you tried to hold your voice steady when you asked, "may you?"

 "May I sleep?"

 Your breath rushed from you and you forced a nod, laying still as he nestled back into the pillows. Danon's hand skimmed your stomach when you slid free, and his tail snagged at your ankle before unwinding.

  Days passed much like that, and each in his presence weakened you. Confessions came in soft whispers when, to him, they were the only possible answer to yet another of your questions. You asked him if he had a home. He did; loose curls fell against his horns, brushed his dark eyes, and the answer, though he never did anything more than smile at you, echoed in your chest. It was the same reason he came back after a soul needed guiding, and the isolation of what he was struck you when he returned, falling into your arms no matter where he found you.

 The worst came when he was gone nearly a fortnight. Some nights you doubted if he would come back to you, and the memory of him seeing you as beacon became your clutch. You had taken to resting on the small sofa in the days, knowing that if he came back in the light, you would wake.

 His whine was so soft you thought him to be the beast when a warmth brushed your cheek, but arms tucked beneath you and curled you into a bare chest. Danon's lips lingered on your forehead before he laid you on your bed, whispering your name as he began to free you from your dress. The lace parted easily for him, and you brought his hands up to your sleeves when he made to turn, helping him undress you until you were left only in your underwear.

 "Don't stay away so long," you whispered, reaching out to brush back his loose curls. Danon trembled when you ran your thumb against his horns. "What if you didn't come back to me?"

 He closed his eyes and leaned into your palm. "That will never happen."

 "This isn't one-sided," you said. Lengthened teeth cut into his lower lip when you slowly parted your legs beneath him, and Danon's hips fell against yours. He let out a breathless moan when your touch pressed to his lips and he let them part, tongue hot against you. "Did you not think I loved you?"

 He whined, and his head fell heavy onto your chest. You gasped when he kissed the soft skin as it fell low, and his hands settled on your hips. "Tell me you do."

 "I might," you said, and he was peppering softer kisses across your breast, hot lips drawing on your nipple until you groaned. "You'll have to do more than that first."

 Danon's lips curled up against your stomach, and relief flooded you when he moved lower. His thumbs stroked small circles into your thighs when he pressed his hot tongue to the fabric clinging to your body, tasting you through it. His teeth caught at the hem and as you lifted your hips, he snatched them off and returned as fast, kissing purple flushes onto your legs before pausing.

 "Tell me now."

 With a small smile, you reached low to hook a finger against his horn, and breathed, "not yet, love."

 He snarled half-heartedly before a long drag of his tongue made you choke. Danon flicked the muscle up until it nudged to your nerves, earning a sharp cry of his name in pleasure. The heat now rushing through you began to pool in your gut, and tightened with the passion he began to lap at you with. The hound growled low, and the shock of it ran in shivers through you.

 Claws curled against your skin and he pressed your legs back to your chest. The same fire you felt throbbing glowed in his eyes, and he almost held your stare for as long as he stretched your tight body around his tongue, if you hadn't shuddered and bucked against him.

 "Danon-" His nose forced hot air against you, nosing up at your clit and you stuttered out a plea, grasping at his hair and grinding your hips up to his face. "I need you. I need you to-Danon-"

 He yelped when you dragged him up, and his body rubbed hard against you. The weight of him slick and nudging to your core made you wriggle, and he palmed your stomach with a small smile, the other hand circling his cock and guiding it up so his head rubbed to your nerves.

 "If we do this, you will wear my mark." He turned to kiss your knee as it came against his shoulder. "Am I what you want?"

 The shine to eyes was so innocent that you nodded, tangling your fingers in his hair again to drag him against you. "I love you."

 Your voice broke on a hoarse cry. Danon laid over you, your legs strained up against him a way that had your body so tight and stuffed when his cock drove deep. His lips, thick and sweetened by your taste, parted on a heady groan with each thrust, each clench of your thighs dragging him deeper.

 At that moment, your souls recognised the other; they must have done, with a feeling of belonging overcoming you as Danon cradled your face, running away a tear of pleasure. He rutted up as he began to gasp and shake, a weight slamming against your centre. He soothed you with a whisper of his love, and grinned at your answering whine before the claw of his thumb flicked your clit. Bolts of pleasure knotted in your core. You cried, seeing white and locking tight in the same second Danon thrust hard, the knot forced into you and sticking.

 You felt him come, thick and hard until he was panting and kissing down your throat. The black swirls of his mark formed across your chest and Danon held you close as his knot swelled all the more.

 "Stay here." He swallowed, nipping at your jaw before meeting your eyes. "Stop travelling," you said quietly, and Danon's fingers running down your hips paused, splaying wide as he looked down at you. Your traced his chest, drawn to the stretch of his skin where a matching mark laid. "Care for this village, the neighbouring ones. You said you only take souls at their time. Guide theirs."

 "Stay with you?" His small smile tugged at your heart. Danon slid his arm lower to lift you up against him, brushing a soft kiss to your lips. "I will try."

I wrote Danon in like one sitting and honestly? He stole my heart. I don't know how it happened but this is the longest thing I've written that wasn't intended to be two parts. Danon is now my baby, and I hope you all loved him too - let me know if you did! Threw in the NSFW as a treat to myself. We love indulgent writing. Thank you for getting this far <3

[rantrambles]

Ever get so upset you make a Tumblr account to vent?

I haven’t even listened to The Penumbra Podcast yet but it’s on my list because it’s insanely popular and the cosplays I’ve seen are hot as hell (A+ to all the cosplayers I’ve seen you’ve done great work). Now, with the recent news surrounding the podcast, I’ll wait till it’s done if I ever do get into it. I’m Asian and part of the LGBT community but I’m not nonbinary so I can’t say much about the trans represention in the art but I wanted to add my two cents on the matter as a person of color and someone examining the situation from the outside. Also, before I get deeply into it, I’m not the only person of color with opinions on this matter so if people have their own frustrations and criticism with the racism in The Penumbra Podcast and/or the new artist they hired, definitely listen to them too. These are my own personal opinions, and I’m sure other people will disagree and that’s fine. We’re all going to have different views on this so bear that in mind. Also, feel free to correct me or add anything if I’ve missed some information. Here’s a great breakdown of the whole situation for those that don’t know what happened. Finally, I was very hesitant to post this, but I felt it was important because I make a statement at the end on how race should be presented in a podcast format so if you are interested in making a podcast and want to have a diverse range of characters, please skip to the end to read those thoughts.

I’ll start off by saying, I’m not even that upset with the new artist that The Penumbra Podcast hired. I know that statement alone is controversial but I don't personally know them, and I’m not going to judge who they are as a person by a few pieces of art they’ve made. They are the least of the problems that I have here. Since the announcement and the backlash, I’ve been scrolling through the artist’s Instagram account and I can tell why people find the designs offensive, but I’m also comparing the designs to the artist’s other work, and I honestly believe that’s just their style. They’ve exaggerated the features of just about every character they’ve made, regardless of race or gender. From what I’ve seen the sharp angles and overly round curves in the anatomy that make some of the character’s features more jarring are how they prefer to draw. I’m sure they’re capable of drawing more realistic proportions but for the most part they’re art aims to call attention, be bold, and create distinguished features. Not inherently a bad thing on its own.

And yeah I’d understand the issue if this were a scenario where the artist heard how these characters acted in the podcast and thought “hey, obviously this character is a black woman because they are super strong and therefore must have big muscles, no other woman could look like that” or “hey, this character has to be Asian because they act super seductive sometimes better draw them as such.” But from my understanding the race was already decided by previous official artists and a general description of the characters were already generated by the audience, similar to how The Magnus Archives leaned towards drawing scrawny Jon with black, greying hair and dark skin. The new artists couldn’t really change those features even if those features aren’t described in canon because a depiction that strayed too far from popular fandom interpretation would make the character’s unrecognizable to the fanbase. 

I think the reason this became such a big issue for most people is because the new Penumbra artist used their exaggerated art style when making these characters and people of color and nonbinary folks already see themselves drawn as these exaggerated caricatures all the time (with those images being used to further discriminate against them). I’m sure the artist didn’t mean for their art to be offensive, but that of course doesn’t change how it was received. 

According to some, the poses and expressions the artists chose did not fully represent the characters entirely and only served to further perpetuate harmful stereotypes, and I’ll have to take their word for it because I still haven’t listened to the podcast so I have no idea how the characters act. But again much of the criticism is based on the one line-up and doing a deeper dive into the artist’s work I managed to find artwork that was much less offensive. Here some art where Vespa is depicted in a non-violent pose and one where Vespa is in a threatening pose but not an overly violent one. Here is Peter drawn in a non-seductive pose. Hopefully, the artist truly does keep the criticisms in mind as they work on the new official art. I’m just not the type of person that wants to get the pitchforks out and cause this particular person to lose a job they seemed really excited about over their old character line-up, especially when that person is also part of a marginalized group.

Again, that’s just my opinion on that particular artist. Those who are offended by their art are still valid in how they feel, and the artist should absolutely take their criticism to heart to better how they represent the characters.

What I’m more upset about is that I think The Penumbra Podcast should never have released official art for their characters in the first place and that’s their mistake that they refuse to own up about. They have made it clear that the story was never meant to portray characters of colors, a fact emphasized by the fact they hired mostly white actors from the start. They only started releasing art of the characters to get a profit. And the thing is they know what they did was wrong. All I had to do was search Penumbra Podcast racism and there is a note on their website saying that they archived some old official art.

“We have discontinued all Penumbra merchandise that uses the original character designs, and in the meantime, any profits on the sales of that merchandise will go to the For The Gworls project. We also realize that the depiction of these characters as POC, while not appropriate for us to use in our marketing and merchandise, has nonetheless become personally meaningful to many POC listeners. For that reason, and because we do not wish to distance ourselves from our mistake, we are keeping these images on our website for archival purposes. Though we do want to make it clear that many of the main/featured voice actors are white and that we did not write the characters to represent any specific POC experience, you are, as always, free to imagine these characters in any way that you like.”

I went to their shop and they still sell posters and pins with the character’s faces on them, but they are donating it to a good cause so hopefully that stays the same. However, I still find it a little uncomfortable that they are still selling character merch and have plans to continue selling character merch. They have no right to dissuade the fans that already found representation in the characters, but they also have no right to profit off the representation that was built, regardless if they made the story. 

Let’s compare this to another piece of popular media. I love Avatar the Last Airbender and, I liked the ATLA voice actors just fine but there should have been more people of color doing voice acting behind the screen too. The voice actors for that show were mainly white too, however, the creators knew that they would be making poc characters. That’s what makes the difference. Did they still choose to go with mostly white voice actors? Yes. Could they have done better and pay more people of color? Also yes. But I’m not as furious at them because they did their research on the cultures they were basing the ATLA world off of and intentionally gave us a show where Asians could see characters that looked like them represented on the screen. The Penumbra Podcast did not do any of that. Again, they openly admitted that it was never their intention to make the character’s people of color when they made the podcast so that goes to show no research was made to properly represent specific cultures. The color of the character’s skin in their official designs therefore became more of aesthetic choice rather than representation, and it wasn’t even their aesthetic choice to begin with!

Race isn’t a color you can just throw onto the character because you feel like it. So I want this to be a lesson to anyone that wants to make a podcast: if you want to include poc characters please do some research into the cultures you plan to represent the way you would with any other form of media. Just because the audience can’t see the characters and just because it’s harder to smoothly introduce the character’s appearance doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be lazy on how you present the characters. Do research before you start writing the first episode and take the time to hire poc actors. Hiring poc actors is actually the least that can be done to show representation. Also, since the audience cannot visually see the race of the characters on a podcast and it can’t typically be described the way you would in a book, you’ll have to be creative. It’s not my job to say how, but my suggestions would be, before the fans come up with their own image of the character, you need to establish race in the first few episodes or release character profiles on a website so that the fans know you canonically intended the characters to be of a certain race even if you aren’t able to mention it in the actual podcast. If you are unwilling to do any of these then the best route is to avoid stating race at all and allow the audience to build their own representation into your form of media. However, once this happens, you are not allowed to profit off popular fan interpretations. You lose all rights to create official art or images of the characters. You cannot use “we have a diverse cast of characters” when you market your story. It doesn’t matter whether you created the content or not, you did not create the representation for those minority groups.

It’s one thing for fans to build their own inclusivity into a form of art like a podcast, but it’s another thing for the creators who never worked to make the representation happen to take advantage of the representation that the listeners built for themselves. Thank you for attending my TedTalk.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH62

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 62: The Queen’s Inheritance (I)

"Here, this is the ancient lake." A guide brought the two men to a huge underground lake and said, "The buildings near here were built during the first generation of Dragon Ant Queens, and by now most of them have become damaged and collapsed. It’s said that most of them were in the architectural styles of the demon world. Later, with the entry of human beings, some later Dragon Ant Queens were of human origins, and the style gradually moved closer to that of the human world."

Qi Leren and Ning Zhou stood in front of the ruins of ancient buildings, watching the vast underground lake ahead. The rich water vapor formed a dense fog that hovered over the underground lake. With a burst of wind coming from underground caves, the fog was blown away only to reform.

The wonderful thing was that there were a lot of fluorescent plankton floating in the lake, which were a deep fluorescent blue amidst the smokey fog. This huge underground lake was like a night sky with thin clouds, with bright stars in its vast expanse.

"The scenery here is good, yet it seems that there aren’t many people?" Qi Leren asked.

The guide mused: "In the early years, there were still people living here, but I don't know when it started: there were frequent violent conflicts here, and the chaos was even worse than that in the lower city. With the water monster incident, the residents who were here moved."

"Water monster?" Qi Leren looked back at the fluorescent underground lake again. "Is there a water monster in it?"

"Yes, there was a monster attack on the nearby residents, which caused thousands of deaths. It alarmed the Dragon Ant Queen, and she then ordered for all of them to be relocated," the guide said.

Qi Leren whispered to Ning Zhou, "What does a water monster look like?"

Ning Zhou thought about it: "A strange shape."

This is equal to saying nothing. Qi Leren blinked in confusion. On second thought, the monster was also a kind of monster. Of course, there were all kinds of monsters, some of which were serious and some of which were casual.

"Is this monster a devil? Or a demon?" Qi Leren asked again.

Although devils and demons had similar names, there were obvious differences. There were many races with rational minds and human features among devils, but no matter how powerful demons were, their bodies were obviously non-human, and they had no rational and normal cognitive ability.

The guide shook his head and said, "We don't know. The monster appeared once and then disappeared. Maybe the Dragon Ant Queen took the shot to clean it up."

"Then there would be no need to move," Ning Zhou hit the nail on the head.

"That’s also true." The guide smiled bitterly. "We aren’t qualified to know the inside story of this confidential matter."

"Where did Mrs Kathleen say she saw the person she thought was Ashley?" Qi Leren asked.

"In the area over here, please come with me." The guide pointed to a palace-style building complex that had been submerged by the lake, and walked there with the two people.

There was almost no light source from the sun in the Underground Ant City, but the creatures here naturally developed methods to see. Both humans and demons would eat foods that enhanced night vision. In addition, there were fluorescent fungi and vegetation everywhere, and the demand for light here had dropped dramatically over time. If you suddenly returned to the surface, it would be difficult to adapt because of the strong light.

After Qi Leren broke his shell, his eyesight had improved a lot. Along with eating the food suggested by Celia, walking in the dim underground world didn't hinder him now, but occasionally he would stumble on the uneven ground because of carelessness. After all, there wasn’t very good infrastructure in the Nightmare World, and few places had flat cement or asphalt roads except the Twilight Township.

Ning Zhou walked half a step slower than him, which proved to be very important, because when Qi Leren stumbled, he reacted very quickly to catch him with one hand.

He wouldn't say "I'll carry you", but in fact he did.

When the guide looked back and was about to speak, his open mouth got stuck in his face when he saw the hands being held between the two men, and his voice became a cough.

Ning Zhou deadpanned, as if two men walking hand in hand was a matter of course. Qi Leren pretended to look at the scenery: "The scenery here is really good. It would be nice to walk around nearby when we have time."

Ning Zhou also responded to him: "Hmm."

The guide doesn't quite understand what was worth going on a date for in a place where there were water monsters and people often went missing and were killed... He would want to leave, but he strongly wore an awkward but polite smile: "Yes, but pay attention to safety."

Qi Leren had discovered that Ning Zhou was very shy in some aspects, but very "calm" in other aspects. For example, if he thought that two people who were engaged could hold hands, he wouldn’t care about the situation or feel embarrassed to be seen.

But by the same token, he decided that what he couldn't do before getting married was impossible without getting married.

Qi Leren, like an infatuated teenager, was stirring under the influence of hormones. At the same time, he felt that he was a dirty adult compared to the pure Ning Zhou. He had just fallen in love and he had already begun to think about their sex life.

At this moment, Qi Leren was very optimistic and confident that he should be able to push Ning Zhou down. After all, Ning Zhou was so pure, how could he be the more dominant one? But he couldn't be in such a hurry. It wasn’t good to intimidate Ning Zhou. He should start teaching at the primary level. For example, he should find a chance to teach him how to kiss at the right time, in the right place, and with the right atmosphere.

A little excited inside, a little expectant, and a little shy, Qi Leren couldn't help but show an excessively happy smile.

Guide: I don't know why, but I feel like an eyesore, so I should hurry away…

After taking them to their destination, the guide left for his other tasks, leaving only Qi Leren and Ning Zhou walking slowly in the ruins of this palace.

The surrounding buildings had indeed been seriously damaged, but they can vaguely see the distinctive style. For example, there were only a few rows of scattered columns left in this building that were similar to a Greek temple. The height of the complete columns was more than 40 meters, which was already magnificent from a distance. When you looked closer, it would take seven or eight people to hug each column. Standing under the column and looking up, this amazing height was awe-inspiring. Because the foundation had fallen and the lake’s water had risen, the temple had become tilted altogether. The north half had been submerged in the lake and only showed slightly above the water, while the south part had not been swallowed up by the lake water at all.

"The buildings in the underworld are usually much taller than those in the human world," Ning Zhou said.

"Why?" Qi Leren asked.

Ning Zhou looked at the rows of neat but damaged columns in front and said slowly, "Because many demons don't like to maintain human form."

Qi Leren immediately thought of the huge black dragon in the lake of fire. With its size, it could only move in such a huge building. He didn't know if the dragon-shaped devils had some special hobbies, such as collecting gold coins and treasures…

"There are traces of fighting here." Ning Zhou's voice awakened Qi Leren who was still sleepwalking.

Qi Leren quickly recovered and observed it carefully. The damage caused by natural collapse was different from that caused by fighting. Qi Leren was inexperienced, but Ning Zhou could see it at a glance and even recover some details of the battle in his mind. For example, the column in front of him was broken by fighting, and the blood at his foot was left by severe scratches when the person was hit and flew to the ground.

"They were two masters, at least one was injured," Ning Zhou said.

"In my impression, although Mrs Kathleen's subordinate had the seed of slaughter, his strength was average," Qi Leren recalled.

"Someone’s here!" Ning Zhou pulled Qi Leren behind the column.

Both of them were silent, regulating their breathing and heartbeats.

In the distance, there came a group of people's slight footsteps, the sound of cloth dragging on the ground, and even light.

A mysterious group passed through the hall, carrying bone lamps in their hands, and wearing heavy long cloaks with hoods covering their faces. This group of people, with their heads down, recited words like spells in a low voice, and when he listened attentively, he could tell they were hypnotized.

Qi Leren gave himself a quick pinch, and Ning Zhou looked at him with concern. Qi Leren pointed to his lips and pointed to the mysterious cloaked figures, beckoning to be careful of their spells. Seeing that Ning Zhou wasn’t affected, Qi Leren was a little reassured.

The front row of the group consisted of cloaks carrying bone lamps, but the rear was a group of ragged human beings. Their eyes were closed, and everyone's face showed a look of intoxication and a trance-like state, with strange smiles. Like a group of docile sheep, they walked forward under the guidance of the cloaks.

Qi Leren felt bad at once. What were these cloaked people doing?

Ning Zhou suddenly felt something, and his eyes stared straight at one of the people moving forward. The man looked as unarmed and smiling as the people around him, but when Ning Zhou looked at him, he also turned his head, grinned at him with great interest, and then continued walking before the cloaked people found out.

There was no road ahead, and the northern part of this temple had been submerged in the underground lake. If they went further, there would be only the lake water filled with fluorescent algae. However, as if they could not see the road, these people walked towards the lake with their bone lamps and vague spells.

As they approached, the fluorescence on the lake became more and more bright. At once, the stars converged into a dazzling blue, which made people’s eyesight white out!

A wonderful voice sounded in the light, and it was difficult to describe whether it was a song or a spell. It was like a devout prayer of the devout and a desperate cry of the dying, which made Qi Leren shiver all over. In the void, there seemed to be a huge eyeball watching everyone in this land, including the two people hiding behind the column.

Qi Leren's eyes widened, his heart thumped, and his whole body seemed to be petrified under the spell.

Under this strange sound, this group of mysterious cloaked people walked into the blue light, and were quickly swallowed by the light.

The blue light gradually went out, and the fluorescent plants on the lake faded again, but the cloaked and human figures could no longer be seen in the temple. Everything was silent, absurd, and terrifying.

"What was that...?" Qi Leren woke up from the fear of being shocked just now and leaned in Ning Zhou’s direction.

"A cult sacrifice." Ning Zhou was more experienced than he was, so it wasn’t difficult to see what this group of people were going to do. He was more concerned about the person who had smiled at him from the crowd just now. That person had obviously noticed the two people hiding behind the column, but didn’t expose their existence. And he himself, for whatever reason, seemed to be playing the role of cult sacrifice.

"Where did they go?" Qi Leren asked again.

"They should have entered a fixed half-field. You remember that the members of the Slaughter Secret Society entered a half-field enchantment like this for secret ceremonies," Ning Zhou said.

Qi Leren suddenly realized that a similar situation had happened with the Slaughter Secret Society before, but this group of people were even more bizarre. He didn't know what they were.

"Which devil are these people going to sacrifice to?" Qi Leren asked.

"Not sure." Ning Zhou shook his head.

There were too many devils, and this was the Underground Ant City. Besides the worship of the Devil Kings, the worship of lower devils was also endless, and the situation was more complicated than any other place. However, the spells recited by this group of people were a little familiar, like a group of Utopia worshippers that Ning Zhou had once handled. That is, worshippers of the Lord of Power.

"Let’s hurry up and go back to Celia to see if there’s any way to get in. If we delay too long, this group of people will be in danger," Ning Zhou said.

-----

Editor’s Notes:

Ning Zhou: [taking his job very seriously]

Qi Leren: “Ning Zhou’s a bottom, right? He’s totally a bottom.”

Guide: “Please let me leave before you test your theory.”

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

[tokoyamisstuff]

Betrothred Ch. 1 - Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

Chapter 1: Bride

Summary: After making your choice, there’s no going back from it.

Warnings: Blood, Murder, Threats, Angst

Words: 2390

Story Masterlist

A/N: This first chapter is kinda angsty but it gets better, I swear!

Today is the day.

Even though only mere hours would separate you from becoming a part of the Zoldyck family, the whole situation still felt very much surreal to you.

To be invited and welcomned on their property was one of the greatest honor of all, but to be considered a fitting consort for their eldest son was just unimaginable.

One of the butlers was harshly braiding your hair, trying to get it in a position you’d usually never wear. Another one would be working on your make-up, something you’d usually find unnecessary considering your profession.

Why would an assassin care for their physical appearance anyway? Well, all of this was probably part of some kind of tradition or ritual.

No matter how roughly they were tearing and tugging on you, trying to modify your body until you wouldn’t even recognize yourself in the mirror, you’d take their invasion of your personal space in a calm demeanour.

Because that’s how you were raised.

Obey, endure and function.

Your bloodline had a long history of both feared and powerful Head Hunters, for decaded being third place of all known assassin families - with the Zoldycks claiming the indisputable top.

Torture, poison and death were your fellow comrades throughout your whole youth, even though there were limits:

Only the most promising children would be chosen to become Head Hunters. The others were free to choose their way as they wished.

Your upbringing was strict, yet loving. And it was forbidden to break your free will. Serving the family should be an honor, not a burden.

Other than the Zoldycks, your family believed that emotions could become the surce of strenght.

There were other moral standarts: Murdering children was off limits, for example.

And your ‘carreer’ was just about to begin when it took this unexcpected turn.

You had met your soon-to-be-husband after finally completing your formal training, now allowed to take on the Hunter Exam.

Already accustomed to the basics of Nen, it was easy for you to see behind the disguise of the man calling himself Gittarackur.

At first being rather passive, even as the two of you completed the Trick Tower together, he soon stated to be impressed by your exceptional strenght and capability.

Truth be spoken, you always thought yourself to be mediocre at best. So that sudden compliment hit you off guard, especially after he casually revealed his true identity and heritage.

Immediately after the exam, you gathered all of your courage and asked Illumi to teach you in the ways of a true assassin - so you could grow and become the next leader of your clan.

And much to your surprise, he instantly accepted, not even wanting anything in return. You were useful to him and his missions, he stated. That would be enough.

After that, it wouldn’t take long until the stoic man announced that you’d make for a formidable spouse, asking your father for your hand in marriage.

Even though you weren’t quite sure if you made the right decision, his proposal alone the greatest honor for your kin and you just couldn’t disappoint them.

Illumi had always been very reserved about anything else than his work, making you doubt he was even capable of feeling anything else than the joy of killing.

Yet he was a reliable ally, both smart and strong - and admittedly very good looking. You were convinced that he wasn’t the monster most people saw in him: He had just been molded to be the perfect assassin.

And because of that, he would make for a good husband as well.

“Well, don’t you look beautiful?” The voice behind your back was Kikyo, dismissing the servants with a single gesture of her hand.

You wanted to stand up and make a curtsy as a sign of respect, yet felt her palms on your shoulder, pressing down so you’d remain in your seat.

Looking in the mirror, you saw your mother in law behind your back, her visor making it hard to read her intentions. Her aura gave it all away, though.

Illumi’s proposal surprised her just as much as yourself, and she obviously wasn’t content with it. You actually doubtet that she’d ever consider someone good enough to marry one of her children, so you didn’t take it personal.

The pressure would only help you grow.

“You’ll become the perfect partner for my son, won’t you?” Her fingernails dug deep into your flesh, but you didn’t even flinch. “Of course, honorable mother.”

“Good.” Apparently your answer didn’t calm her fury, since her fingermails only turned in the wounds they dug into your flesh. She only stopped when she realized that the blood was staining your clothes.

“I don’t expect any less from a lowlife like you are.” Seems like you should stay alerted around her. But that was no surprise, and it didn’t scare you either.

You knew what you were getting yourself into. And it was worth it.

To prove your worth, you’d go even beyond your limits.

“It’s time, Y/N.”

Up until now, you hid your emotions very well - but hearing that familiar, monotonous voice, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Illumi!” Kikyo shreeked out, “You’re not allowed to see Y/N before the ceremony!”

“Unnecessary superstition” he retorted quite unaffected, approaching both of you.

Kikyo stepped back, revealing you fully. He took in your appearance, rather observing than anything else. “Is that your blood?”

“Nothing worth mentioning.”

He grabbed your ankle, forcing you up from his seat to look at him. “How did this happen?”

You didn’t dare answering. It was not your place to drive a wedge between your fianceé and his mother, even though you highly doubtet that he would care at all.

Illumi turned around, his blank stare now directed to his mother, who defendingly put her hands into the air. “I-I was just advising-”

“No need for that” he cut her off. “I can take care of any business concerning my partner myself.”

Now she got all hysterical again, just as you got to know her. “B-but-”

“Never touch them again, or I’ll kill you.”

Kikyo relented, then having a mental breakdown for excactly 5 seconds, screams and cries filling the room.

The air had gotten incredibly thick, the unsettling atmosphere making you wish to just disappear right on spot.

“Oh, Illumi!” she exclaimed, sounding jubilant all of a sudden. “Being so cruel to your own mother...You’ve grown so much!”

What a weird fucking family.

“Show me your arms” Illumi demanded after he told his mother to be left alone, yet you flinched away.

“I apologize for having provoked an argument” you spoke all humble, “My wounds are of no concern. Don’t worry.”

“Starting today, I’m expected to take care of you. So you should obey and let me patch this up.” You sat down with a small sigh, exposing your shoulders and presenting them to him. “It would be a shame if you get scarred by something else than a honorable battle.”

Eventually you found time to appreciate your fianceé’s exterior: Illumi had his hair braided back, wearing a fully black suit with a white shirt and a bow tie.

It was the first time you ever saw him in formal wear, and it actually suited him very well.

“You’re very handsome, Lumi” you absentmindedly blurted out as you watched him bandage the wounds on your shoulder.

And Illumi would acknowledge your looks in his own way. “Your appearance is very adequate for this occasion as well.” That counts as a compliment, right?

“Glad you like it” you smiled, “But sadly the stains won’t get out. And we have no time to clean off the blood.”

Illumi swiftly helped you on your feet once again, vaguely explaining “Don’t worry. It won’t stand out after the ceremony.”

You linked arms with Illumi, who led you to the main room as you still pondered about what exactly he meant with that statement.

The celebration would be a small one, not even your own family being allowed to attend. When you entered the generously decorated hall, there were only Silva, Kikyo, Zeno, Kalluto and Milluki.

“Welcome, Y/N” Silva spoke in a way more welcoming tone than his wife earlier. You bend your head as you stood in front of the table where the family had gathered, greeting them politely before making your way to the altar.

Zeno would be the one to confirm the bond. You were actually glad that it was him, because he had already grown fond of you.

“Are you ready?” the old man wondered, noticing how you were trembling.

“Far away from it” you chuckled without doubt, adding “But I’m prepared to do anything.”

“That’s a honest but brave answer, young adult” he paised in an attempt to calm you down, then arranging both you and Illumi to stand facing each other. “And just what you need to become part of this family.”

One sign of Silva and the door swung open, a Bunch of butlers dragging in a terribly inured human.

Much to your shock, the person was not dead - not yet.

“So it begins” Illumi whispered as he saw the man wince in pain, begging for his life, and he almost cracked something like a smile.

“Wha-” Before you could even comprehend what was happening, it hit you like a brick: You were supposed to finish that person off.

That was what Illumi meant. A few blood stains on your wedding dress really were your smallest problem considering what awaited you from this day on.

“That man invaded our property with the intend to kill us” Silva explained to you, his stare bringing across his demands. “You’ll prove your loyality through ending his life.”

At that moment, you knew that you’ll disappoint them - because you were frozen in place.

You had taken and destroyed so many lives, yet always had the full information on them and could decide through your own standarts. But now?

What if it was a lie? You didn’t know that man, why he was here or if he deserved death.

Maybe he had family or came for revenge. Goddamn it, he could even be a reporter who just sneaked in to snatch a photo! Or they had presented you a completely innocent man, seeing if you were the undoubting slave they wanted to have!

Madness runs in this family, apparently.

It was a test. You knew that much. Quite fitting for someone from a family which was only rank three, known for their rather humane way of working.

“No Nen allowed” Kikyo completed the task, “No guns or similar either. You may only use your bare hands or close combat weapons.”

Yes. It was way harder, imprinting your soul to kill that direct way. How you’d deal with the situation was crucial for the outcome of this wedding. 

But were you really ready to throw all of your morality abroad just for your own sake?

“We won’t kill you if you decline the order” Illumi cut off your brooding. Was it out of sympathy? You had no idea. “You’ll be considered unfitting, but you are free to leave and no one will ever bother you again.”

“N-No” you stumbled across your own words, “I’ll do everything for the family.”

“Interesting” Zeno stated. “I never doubtet your spouse, Illumi, but I thought they'd take longer to decide.”

"I think Y/N will make for a great companion.” Silva’s wide grin streched across his face, making his eyes wrinkle a bit. “In both family and business.”

When all was said and done, Illumi grabbed a knive that was placed on the altar. “Let’s do it together, then.”

You almost felt guilty that you became flustered in a moment like this, but couldn’t help it as Illumi genuinely smiled at you, taking your hand as you took firm steps towards the enemy.

“P-Please have mercy!” the man pleaded to no avail, and determination swelled in your chest at that intense moment.

Taking someone’s life together - it would connect two people in a cruel yet beautiful way.

Whatever else could be more fitting for the marriage of two assassins? 

It would be an easy kill. He was unable to flee or fight back. Just a single strike, ending his life quick as act of mercy.

“You should’ve known better than to mess with my new family.”

Both of your hands intertwined, wrapping your fingers around the handle of the knive before thrusting it into the victim’s chest.

And then it dawned to you.

“A needleman?” you sulked, ripping out one of Illumi’s needles out of the stranger’s head, while the others broke out in boisterous laughter.

“Yeah. He was already dead” Illumi shrugged. “I know you don’t like burdening yourself with victims you didn’t choose yourself. But we needed to test you anyway. It’s a tradition.”

Was he actually respecting your boundaries?! What the-

“I like your guts!” Silva attempted to pat your back, but it felt rather like he was going to break your spine. “Sorry for our harsh methods. I know it can be a bit much at the beginning. You’ll get used to obey our rules slowly, don’t push yourself.

Even Kikyo embraced you, now almost convincing motherly. “Reminds me of my first kill for the family!”

It almost felt like those people could actually feel compassion for others. They at least had undoubtingly strong bonds with each other, even if their way of living together was rather unusual.

Stiff movements as always, Illumi placed his hand on your head, almost as if a robot was trying to mimick human interaction. “I’m proud of you. I knew I chose well.”

The rest of the ceremony was just as you expected it: No vows, no rings, no music, no kiss. Just you and Illumi hearing to whatever Zeno had to say about bringing honor and wealth to the family, bearing strong offsprings, and other things that were the exact opposite from romantic.

“Blood for blood” Zeno stated now instead of “You may now kiss”, and every family member repeated it.

You took the knife from the altar once again, cutting your palm until it drew blood without any hesitation. Illumi would now do the same, then reaching out his hand for yours to hold.

As your fluids mixed before dropping to the floor, you unsucessfully searched for any hint of emotional reaction in your husbands expressionless face.

His eyes however would never leave yours, his hand firmly squeezing yours before Zeno announced:

“Your fates are now inextricably connected.”

____

If you want to get on the taglist or get removed from feel free to ask! ♡

@roseburry-jam @food-cures-all @oprah-winfriess @ullinic @sun-and-moon-elfingsmeme @chocolateislovr @sapphic-ghoul @coco724 @jessiejunebug @yukiwins​ @weflyinfluff​ @readlatersnowy​ @gibk​ @spasmodicterror​ @djgirl66​ @pweeenis​ @trblsicheng​ @theromaniangirl​ @cluelessmxnd​ @s1sterofthemoon​

Feedback is always appreciated!

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

BFCD Reviews by Nesha: Final Space, Season 3

Everybody that know me know that I’m high class #Quillective trash and my main thoughts and feelings go out to Quinn Ergon and Gary Goodspeed - precious Gemini gems, and of course the BABIES: Little Cato, Ash and Fox #NeshaLuhDaKids I had some attachment to Avocato once upon a time, but that n***a got on my LAST nerves this season, so we currently at “Do you, Boo” status by the end of S3, and eventually, yes, I’ma get to why that is. 

Disclaimer for somebody who stumbled across this post because of the fandom tags - I am an independent partaker of this content, not “part of the fandom,” and my audience in particular is NOT for everybody. SO: If you may have been criticized in the past for casual racism, tone deafness to Black women’s concerns or accused of misogynoir or antiblackness, leave now. 

If you don’t like cussing, AAVE, general ratchetness and mean lesbian energy, you too might wanna go. A bitch can be eloquent, but I type like I talk, at times, so it is what it is and I don’t curate for kids, dudes, or nonblacks. That’s just what that is.

I wanna start with Ash Graven. This season is about Ash more than anybody else, despite the fact that there was a lot of emphasis on Avocato’s toxic ass man pain and growth in Quinn and Gary’s relationship, ULTIMATELY, nobody in the crew did more coming into fruition as Ash did, and I have a lot to say about her, because I have a lot of feelings.

♡ Ash Graven

1. Ash is a kid. Lol. Everybody got very confused because of the unnecessary transformation that Invictus gave her. Ash did not “grow up,” her body was altered. That’s a fuckin kid in a woman’s body. A kid who has previously been living with survivor’s guilt, parental abuse/neglect/exploitation, chronic trauma, and a disastrous superpower that most people could not be trusted to carry. She’s a child having a coming of age moment in this season that is mostly molded in manipulation. If you hate on Ash, go fuck yourself. ESPECIALLY if I’ve caught you stanning other characters who have been shit characters, in this fandom or not. Ash was dealt a shit hand and nobody had her back but her brothers, and she’s done what she could and thought was best to care for them. Anybody that missed that - just don’t have kids, K.

2. Ash has no parental guidance. As far as she knows, the only adults who have ever had her back are dead and the ones that she’s stuck with now, she GAVE a chance to try to trust them. She gave Quinn a chance to try to see some of Nightfall (the only adult that we’ve seen not exploit her) in her. She gave Gary a chance by choosing him over Clarence, when she had to make a choice. She even gave Clarence’s ass another chance - with which he responded by dying to not fail her. Now, she has Gary, who just a few days or weeks ago, idek, forced her to try to summon her powers while she was both injured and also upset over having to leave her brother behind - TO SAVE HIS GIRLFRIEND! And she got snatched away in the process and left behind with the enemy, to be mentally assaulted and returned changed, only to have them not trust her.

I love Quinn too. I love her dearly. But the facts were that she was dying and having an episode that nobody could really help with, and Gary didn’t take the time or consideration to think about the stress that he was putting on Ash by putting her in the position to make her feel like she needed to save Quinn for him. Whether or not she was the only one who could, that is a lot to put on a child, and not only did he do it, but he didn’t even seem to think that hard about it whenever he then left her ass. Sure, he was glad when she was returned, but that was a fucked up situation that yet another adult put her into, and the first thing that he should have wanted to do when seeing her was to apologize and try to make it right. It was a huge miscalculation to treat her as a potential enemy that he and Avocato needed to vet. EVEN IF that’s what she was to them, both of them should have had the sense to assess while still treating her as the kid that they supposedly knew.

3. Most of her trauma has been recent and continuous. She looked up to Nightfall, watched her die, and had a meltdown. The events from Season 2 (with Clarence almost killing Fox and leaving him to die, her leaving his side to help out, seeing that Sheryl was treacherous to her own son, losing Nightfall), and the events that are taking place in Season 3 are only in the span of a few months.

They were only stranded for a month whenever we see them surviving together. That girl has had more happen to her to hurt her than to help her and nobody around her BUT Little Cato has been sensitive to that. And they are all fucking adults.

These things being noted - changing Ash’s design was the absolute worse fucking thing. Aging a girl up to make the bad things that follow more palatable is what that seems to be. Ash is still a kid. And THEN, they allegedly made her a queer kid. I say allegedly, because that “reveal” was so poorly done and subtle and weak that I, an almost 40 year old queer, didn’t realize that that’s what they meant whenever they said that they were gonna reveal somebody as a character who is part of the LGBT community.

So... FS production just gon’ decide not only to transform her body into that of a woman, when her mind is still full on traumatized child and hormonal teenager, but also, she likes girls, and they didn’t even do it in a cohesive way that added to the story. They threw it in, like, “BTW, she likes girls, and also, she’s full grown now.” then immediately went for the “Villain” lever, and bitches just ate that shit up. Fuck y’all, forreal. 

& Fox

He didn’t deserve that shit. And, I know a lot of people felt that he was pointless and boring, but his ass was sweet and caring and searching for love and acceptance. As a background character, I liked him. But, he was literally just fodder for Ash’s downfall, which was unfair and problematic, considering that his ass is definitely Black coded. Don’t play. He was voiced by a Black man, spoke with a blaccent, and definitely would be read as Black if you wasn’t looking at him and seeing an alien. They gave him a sacrificial negro trope, the big friendly negro that can kill you but loves everybody trope, and they used his death to just push some narrative forward to set up the one verified queer character as a villain. They got they ass in a vehicle and rolled right over another Black character, and another queer character. Chile...

 ♡ Little Cato!!!

My precious have not been getting some good for too long, and I have had it. He’s not focused on so much this season as he is in the background of other people’s stories, but a very important takeaway is and will always be that Little Cato, aside from Fox, really was the only one here who consistently treated her like she mattered, so it made a lot of sense that he could be the catalyst for her finally having ENOUGH with these people.

I really wish that he could have found out the truth about his past from Avocato, because that’s really who OWED him that truth, but Ash did the thing that I’d expect and told him, to be honest with him. She even told him that Avocato wanted to tell him and that she took that right away from him, because she didn’t believe he deserved it, and I’m respecting her for that, too. I wish she could see how much it hurt Little Cato for her to try to take him away from his home. 

Little Cato has lived before, for a while, and he’s not mature enough to behave as a man, but he at least has a loving foundation to draw from, and having had that support, this is more of his home than it is Ash’s. He doesn’t know how to explain that to her, and she doesn’t know how to understand that for him. Just a tragic situation for two kids with a lot of problems.

♡ Quinn Ergon & Gary Goodspeed

Quinnary notes that might not be featured in the BFCD Reviews by Nesha:  (Quinn Ergon/Nightfall x Gary Goodspeed) rundown - 

I've had two favorite parts of this season so far and they're very mediocre things that you wouldn't think would be like my favorite part but they are. One of them was that the first thing Gary does when she wakes up is to ask her about her sister (someone obviously very important to her who he's previously promised to allow to let live through Quinn's memory and says he wants to hear about her when he's trying to keep Quinn from dying). Because... He really did care and wasn't just saying something to keep her.

Quinn's mother fucked her up in a way that is so frustrating because Black mamas really will traumatize you about their younger kids. That shit hurt. You showed your daughter dead bodies to make her think about that in the event that your other daughter might be in battle? Bitch wtf

Whenever we say that Black girls are programmed to put everybody ahead of us, that's unfortunately not just including Society, it's in households too. And Quinn comes from this place where that is her reality... Then she meets Gary and he doesn't even register for her as anything special. He doesn't appear impressive or incredible in any way... But he (admittedly) weirdly locks on to her and shares himself - thinking that he's showing himself to her, and ultimately he DOES. And he wants to see her too, beyond all this, who she is, at her most humane. He wants to know about her sister. About someone who mattered to her enough to have the helm of her trauma when she was out of touch with reality. Very soft. Very sweet.

The other was when they were talking about how they met and stuff and Gary absolutely cringed thinking about how corny he was when he approached this woman. A lot of dudes never do that. The complaint of earlier seasons that Gary was overbearing, obsessive and creepy , if you missed the fact that he has terrible abandonment issues from his father’s death and his mother’s rejection, here we have him, in his adult state, looking back at the way he was and being embarrassed about it, and that’s growth!

A close third is whenever at the beginning of the Season he says "Quinn it's been a month eventually you have to open up to me about what you've been through" and she says "I will in time" and he respects it but he reiterates that he's there whenever she needs him. I don't think that people realize how revolutionary that kind of statement is especially for a character like Quinn to hear - who has always felt like she had to take charge, had to take the lead, had to make the sacrifice.

Even when she realized that she was dying, she didn't want to burden him with the information. Not even like ‘a thing that she knew if that could help prevent it and she didn't want him to have to go after it,’ but... she didn't even want him to have to deal with knowing about it!

Maybe she thought that she would just drop, maybe she didn't realize that he was going to have to see her in that condition. And then once she realized that he was going to have to see her in that condition one of the first things she says is "I should have told you." Girl is on her deathbed wishing she had done it differently, for Gary's benefit.

I saw somebody on Twitter tried to come for her about not going to Gary after he killed Fox (you know, shortly after her surgery to save her from the very brink of death, and listen... Quinn comes to see about Gary when she can. She’s done it several times. In fact, I’ma make a whole POST about Quinn and Gary moments SPECIFICALLY to point out to haters in the main tag - where they got Quinn Ergon, and by extension, me, FUCKED UP.

Stop Playing in Quinn Face

HI! HELLO. ACTUALLY MY FAVORITE PART OF THIS SEASON IS THAT QUINN AND GARY JUST FUCKED. THANK YOU VERY MUCH. THANKS. OK. Back 2 bidness

See.. after Gary and Quinn got over the humps of Quinn’s Final Space poisoning... everyone got it... nobody told her until Avocato was mad and told her during a lash out, and let me say something about Avocato’s fucking audacity this season... 

♡ Avocato (Note: His name is A-V-O-C-A-T-O. Some of y’all be tryna stan and y’all can’t even spell his name.)

I done seent Avacata, Avocata... That’s not that dude name. Be writing whole ass expositions about some other Ventrexian n*gga. Hope this helps:

AVOCATO. Listen, boy. YOU decided to be a traitor to your people and your king and queen. YOU decided to dedicate your cause to the Lord Commander and lied to your son his entire life about killing his parents, raising him, and never talking to him about it.

Yet and STILL - whenever you had the chance to finally tell him, you ain’t do the shit. Lord Commander gave you the perfect ass opportunity - WHEN IT CAME UP, and even then, with that boy looking you dead in the face and being glad that now he knows everything... you ain’t Ventrexian man up.

Then, whenever you were supposed to be checking on Gary after his traumatic murder fight with Fox and Invictus, you turned it around and literally made it about you. attacking him in the process and only after a physical fight did you apologize. (And y’all still didn’t get back to what had happened to Gary, which was no real fault of his own). 

Fast forward to after you willingly agreed to stay behind and fight and y’all lost. Now, it was Quinn’s turn to be the center of your blame and you lashed out at her because everybody is dying, despite the fact that y’all agreed to stay behind and fight, nobody even told her that y’all were sick, AND you still wasn’t 100 with Little Cato. 

You just had a lot of mothafuckin audacity this season, Avocato, and I personally was not here for the shit. Even when Ash blasted yo ass, your main thought was to threaten to kill her if she took Little Cato, instead of assuring her that despite what you’ve done, Little Cato was safe with you. No, she wouldn’t have listened to you. But, the words you chose tell us about who you are and how you are. You a war mongering killer that don’t ever take responsibility for his shit, and even in those brief moments that you do, its always somebody else’s problem. 

I’da thunk that LC getting snatched away would be humbling for you, but I guess you were chosen by the writers for minimal growth. Bye, Avocato. Witcha bitch ass. We is not cool right now, but you do you. Hope you find some growth up there in ya ass, where ya head been. 😁 Can’t believe I mourned yo ass. You coulda stayed dead as hell.

FINALE NOTES:

OK BITCH OK THIS FINALE WAS HYPE!

Let me pull it up so that I can liveblog it for the shit that I need to conclude this journey. 

We start out after Ash done took Little Cato and burnt off. Gary and AVOCATO done said they finna go get they son. Chile, I cannot handle Biskit voice. I like that lil’ dude but ya voice, Mane. I can’t with it. 

OK OK OK... Whenever Quinn comes up to Gary to talk to him and say potential goodbyes, she look like she wanna say some and that makes me think about whenever she looked like she wanted to say something in season 1 and didn’t. Quinn as grown a lot in her feelings for Gary, but she still has that hard time with talking about her feelings, but I love that you can see them in her face.

Chile... these folk was kinda taking they time gettin started, huh? Knuckas, do y’all remember that everybody finna die of FS poisoning? Lol. Also... why didn’t they start hallucinating and shit? I guess its not until it covers ya face? 

NIGHTFALL. 😥 I love you, Sis. I miss you. But, “Because I’m you and WE think of everything...” YES. I HAVE BEEN SAYING THAT! EVERYBODY EXPECTS QUINN TO THINK OF EVERYTHING AND WHENEVER THEY DON’T THINK OF THE THINGS, SHE GETS BLAMED FOR MAKING THE TOUGH DECISIONS THAT NOBODY ELSE COULD EVEN MAKE. Underappreciated, really. And people still mark Nightfall as a villain, despite the fact that she not only sacrificed herself, but also came specifically to help another Gary. Sidenote - Nightfall didn’t actually pursuit Quinn’s Gary until Quinn was trapped in Final Space and she thought she got a signal from him. So, I’m still salty AF that she been labelled as a villain just because people don’t like her, when her actions have all been to try to help. Here is no difference. She thought of the things that she didn’t think a younger version of her would think of, and left it for Quinn to find. Nightfall be on RNS, and most of y’all didn’t deserve her.

Quinn’s identity crisis is so sad, but I liked that Nightfall EVEN thought about that. And Sheryl... you kinda starting to grow on me. I hate to give shitty mothers who find compassion in old chance a try, but she do seem to really be giving it a go. 

Ash is so fucked up that she rushes right into the devil’s arms. This reminds me of when trafficking victims go back to their abusers because they don’t have the resources to adjust in the system. 😪 She REALLY believes what she’s saying. She really feels like Little Cato is safer with Invictus with the Team Squad. That’s sad as fuck, bruh. 

THE. ACTING. AND. ARTWORK. IN. THIS. CONFRONTATION. SCENE.

Avocato... I’m proud of you for FINALLY taking responsibility ad opening up about it. Little Cato’s reaction is precisely how kids in the system are, as well. They wanna be at home with their parents, no matter who their parents are or what they’ve done. and Avocato meant what he said and did what I referred to earlier as “Ventraxian man up.”

“I’m sorry we failed you,” from Gary was so important. Because, they technically did fail her. Had Ash seen the same amount of love from Gary as she’s seen him give to others, she might have been more receptive to the truth and less susceptible to lies. But, as she had just said earlier, it was too late for kind words. She’s currently beyond accepting them from him. For a brief moment, it breaks through, but without that ability to know love from an adult properly, she can’t accept that apology right now.

H.U.E. with his big robot, Lord Commander...EYE. There’s so much happening right now bitch processing has left the room girl. Biskit did so damn much this episode. And it was good to see everybody on the team have a moment to help things, instead of like one person having to handle the bulk of things. 

Quinn’s begging voice... its such a contrast from whenever she sent out the SOS in season 1 and was afraid and angry. Like... the desperation here shows her softness. 

Ash’s RAGE Bitch...

Gary’s “I love you...” She looked so happy! And then she just sat with it. I feel like she definitely loves him too, but she doesn’t communicate that way. But, her FACE. She was just... did she think that he didn’t before, or was she just speechless because she didn’t expect to hear it? Because, we gotta be real... Sis probably has not ever heard those words from anybody before. And that first time, when it’s really there is a DOOZIE. She had an abusive mother, a seemingly jealous or competitive sister, and we saw how nobody in the Infinity Guard respected her ass when she was serving them the real. I think this is the first time she’s been in love or felt it and when Gary said it, she had to collect herself. The way she ran to him and jumped into his arms??? SHIPPING CRACK. And Mooncake was a part of their hug too. I have a lot of feelings about this dynamic since Quinn and Mooncake are the only characters that we’ve seen Gary have these “love at first sight” reactions to and Mooncake is the first character that I recall Quinn being nice to in S1. 

So.. my heart was very full when they ripped it from my chest moments later. Mooncake has been watching Team Squad members be self sacrificing for a little while now, and he loves his family and Gary so much that he rushes straight towards danger. (Sure, I don’t think that he estimated how powerful Ash could be at this moment), but he had to at least consider that he might be caught or left behind.

Bitch, Ash is GONE. She said, “Fuck all y’all!” Not knowing whether or not Mooncake is destroyed makes it very hard for me to know how much I can stand this, but I also want to hope that he is gonna survive. Quinn having to make the decision to lightfold is hella sad, but even though Gary is destroyed, he has to know that this is exactly how Ash must’ve felt whenever he had to make the call to leave Fox behind. She hated to do that to Gary. She even seemed more regretful about it than Gary did whenever he had to leave Fox and when he left Ash. Sure, its because she loves him more than he loved Fox and Ash, but its a terrible position to be in to have to hurt somebody you love like that. On the other hand, they gave her hella shit for them not escaping when could have the first time, so naturally, she was going to make this decision. 

It very much sucks that Invictus is free and my brain can’t eeem FATHOM what that means for everything and everybody, but the Final Space poisoning left the Team Squad’s system, so maybe there is a rejuvenation of some sort in Invictus’ power? Or does Final Space poisoning leave your system as soon as you leave Final Space? I don’t think that was clarified. 

Anyways, I still don’t hate Ash. Y’all can say whatever about it, but I see sad white boys get forgiven all day every day on this site, and I’m upset, but I’m not letting my baby go. I’m not cheering her on, but unless she dies, I’m gonna hope for the best for her, like I said here. 

DAMN this season was some shit. Ionknow if I’m emotionally capable of watching another season of Final Space in progress. If they make it back for another season, I will most likely just wait until the end to dive in and let them shock my senses all at once instead of on a weekly goddamn basis, because GODDAMN GODDAMN GODDDAMN!

@andromidagalaxie @daintyurbanprincess @shslargue @space-finally​  The Quinnary Moments Masterlist probably won’t be ready by Quinn’s birthday, since her birthday is the day before Juneteenth, but I’ve started on a little fic that I might have the first installment of posted by then. We shall see. 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Here is my JOURNEY during my first watch of the first two seasons of the show. (I watched Season 3 in progress and waited until it was over to write up this review) and my probably incoherent tag of whenever I do me a lil’ liveblogging: Nesha Watches Final Space, and here is my review on Quinnary: BFCD Reviews by Nesha: (Quinn Ergon/Nightfall x Gary Goodspeed) FINAL SPACE

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.23}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 3.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

This one hour turned out to be way longer than the previous ones together. Admittedly, Robin did enjoy the youthful silliness of her friends, but for the most part she could only listen and offer her ever-too-grown-up take on matters on the few occasions when she was asked for her opinion. It was fun though, a bit like spending time with younger siblings. Not that Robin knew much about that, and when she dared to voice the thought, Simon and Michael –who had grown up with two and three little siblings respectively– only laughed in her face. Oh well, just fun it was then, but perhaps not like siblings after all. Just a group of unlikely friends.

At the end of the given hour, Robin wished her little group a good rest of the night and told them to meet her in the entrance hall half an hour past midnight. Before either of the confused people could ask about her enigmatic and sudden statement, Snape came to her rescue just as planned. He didn't say a word when he held his hand out to her, and she didn't say a word in return when she took it and let him pull her up to her feet. It was all in the eyes, in the words that didn't need to be spoken to be understood. The last Robin heard of her friends while Snape led her off towards the dancefloor was Cas saying something along the lines of 'and that's how you ask a girl to dance!' to the rest of the group. She couldn't help but silently smirk to herself in agreement.

The dance that followed was as much a delight as the previous one had been, as every single one of their dances had been, and once it ended all too soon as ever, neither of them could bear to stop just yet. So they did what most couples did, they stayed, and they danced to the next three pieces of song the musicians gifted them with as well. It left Robin quite breathless, but smiling more widely than she probably ever had in public. Who cares… she was just 'that insane girl', after all. This was the last ball she would be here for, and perhaps also the last time she got to dance with Snape. Even though she very much hoped that the latter wasn't truly the case.

When they finally decided that it had been quite enough exercise for the moment, a decision majorly influenced by the change in musical tone from sophisticated to what Robin graciously called 'jolly', they made their way off the dancefloor with slightly heaving chests and in purest contentment. That was, until no other than Damion Morgan stepped into their way, as if he had sensed that Robin's night was going too well. And he obviously had every intention to change that now. Not only did his eyes rake up and down Robin's form with an almost hungry look, but with an equal amount of scarily sweet smiles plastered onto his lips as well.

"Go on now, don't be shy, darling. Just ask me out." He finally spoke up with one of his flashiest grins, and his eyes locked with Robin's as he got way too close to her for anyone's comfort.

"Alright. Would you be so kind to get out of my sight?" Robin returned an exaggeratedly sweet smile that was dripping with sarcasm, and she was only glad that, hidden away under the billowing sleeves or her dress, Snape was still holding onto her hand.

"Ah, always sporting such a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind... that's how you seduce me, dear." Morgan chuckled, a brightly ringing sound that gave Robin chills of the uncomfortable kind. How could the man be so ridiculously positive, clear as crystal and bright as the sun, while yet he was the scariest person she had ever known to exist?

"Your advances are shameful at best, Damion, if not outright pathetic." Snape replied in a condescending and cold drawl, and his words were more in line with Robin's thoughts than anything she could have worded herself.

Morgan's head snapped around, and he glared at Snape with sharp shards of ice in his eyes. "Oh, and you think you are doing so much better than that? Is that why she hasn't even noticed how badly you are pining for her?"

Now Snape's eyes narrowed at the man in front of them in an unspoken threat as well. "You haven't the slightest idea what you are speaking of."

"Actually I know very well what I'm speaking of, Severus." Morgan quipped in radiant imagined superiority. "As it is, I also happen to know that you are absolutely right in your assessment of the circumstances; you really are entirely out of your league."

Robin didn't waste time thinking about the lunatic's words of hostility and instead caught his attention by speaking up calmly and with the subtlest touch of mocking sweetness. "If we are so far below you, then perhaps we shouldn't bother you any longer with our lowliness. It must be quite painful for you to dwell in such poor company, and we wouldn't want to hurt you now, would we?"

With that, Robin simply turned to leave without waiting for an answer, and she didn't even have to pull Snape along with her, for he mirrored her movement precisely in an instant. They got exactly two steps further down the hall before Morgan caught Robin by her free arm once again. His grip, as ever, more demand than inquiry.

"Dance with me." He said, without smiles, without brightness, and certainly without room for refusal.

"No." Was what Robin replied nonetheless, and this finally brought a new smile to Morgan's lips, a different one. A smile that made Robin's blood freeze over.

"That wasn't a question, darling. Dance with me, or I will see to it that you won't live to deny me again."

Robin's guarded expression kept her jaw from dropping and her eyes from growing wide, but the sheer panic that spread inside her mind and body still must've found a way to the surface. Her eyes moved from Morgan to Snape, in a silent plea for him to do something, anything, but going by his own expression, it was either killing Morgan right on the spot or letting things unfold. Robin couldn't blame him for having a similar reaction as she had herself, there was little else to do about such a display of dramaticism and insanity.

Gulping down the lump in her throat, Robin let go of Snape's hand and took the one Morgan was offering instead, even though every single cell in her body screamed in protest. As ridiculous as the threat was, she didn't doubt Morgan anymore. The lengths to which he would go to see her suffer still lay in darkness ahead of her, and she was more than reasonably reluctant to shed any light onto them now. So she let the man lead her back to the dancefloor, much like last year, while she was still aware of and very much thankful for Snape's eyes lingering on her. He wouldn't let Morgan harm her if he could prevent it, she knew that. And Snape's serious concern worried her quite a bit more than the actual prospect of getting injured. But no time to think about it now. The music started, and Morgan swirled her through the room alongside the oblivious students, professors and guests.

"You are hurting me." She finally spoke up in a quiet hiss, when his fingers dug uncomfortably into the skin of her back even through the layers of thick black fabric.

"Did it ever occur to you that you are hurting me, too?" He sighed in return, as if speaking to a child reluctant to understand. "With all those edges and corners of your wild personality… You make it ridiculously hard for me to put my mark on you. Perhaps, a little pain shall be the way to tame you after all."

A mere second later, when he moved his hand across her back oh so subtly, a sharp pain, a stinging and burning followed in the wake of his fingers at once, and Robin gasped before biting her lip to refrain from crying out. How the actual hell had he done that?! The pain dimmed down quickly enough, and nobody was paying them much attention, so it can't have been anything too serious, right? Right?! Robin released a shivering breath, then glared up at her dance partner in utmost hostility.

"If you think you can break me like some fragile plaything, you are utterly mistaken." She hissed, but it only served to make the man above her smirk. Robin wanted to slap that expression off his face, but all she could do was glare at him even more threateningly. "I can see way beneath those smiles and charming words. When I look at you, I see nothing but a monster."

"When I look at you, I see a beautiful masquerade covering the hollow darkness of inevitable death. Because that's ultimately what you are, and what you are ever going to be. A broken creature of ash and dust, and a mirror of shattered vanity." His reply came quickly and in a striking factuality, a seriousness that was unlikely for him. It left Robin short of an adequate answer for a moment, while his words cut a little deeper than she would've liked. And yet, when he spoke on, his tone was filled with bitter amusement. "It's rather ironic, isn't it? To see you clinging so desperately onto the one man who is the very essence of brokenness. Tell me, are you trying to heal him or do you merely reap what is left in the ashes? I cannot tell from what I see. But I shouldn't be the one to judge... I too desire you despite your darkness."

"You are wrong. Again, as always." She huffed in spite. "I don't like him despite the way he is, but for that very reason. He might have been broken once, but he put his pieces back together in his own way, and that makes him more appealing than anyone who has never known the courage it takes to go on after you shatter. Or the strength it takes to be better than before."

"You really are quite pathetically in love, aren't you?" Morgan sighed, sounding condescending and indifferent in a way that made Robin wish she hadn't said anything at all. But this damned man just had a way of getting to her and making her speak against her better judgement. "Ironic that it had to be Severus you are so willing to suffer for. Say, would you die for him, little songbird? I bet you would, wouldn't you? As I said; Ironic."

"If I'm pathetic for loving, you are just loving to be pathetic. Ironic indeed." She scoffed, and he squeezed the hurting spot on her back in return, making her yelp under her breath. The sound made him smirk. Bloody bastard…

When the music came to an end and the people to a halt, Robin feared that Morgan would keep her right where she was for another dance. It was a bit after eleven at this point, and even if there was still some time until midnight, she was both exhausted and desperate to get away from the man who was keeping a strong hold of her even now that the dance had ended. But to her surprise, he started leading her off the dancefloor before she even had to voice a protest or question.

"I better return you to poor Severus before he gives in to the urge to murder me, huh? Merlin's beard, that man loves you more than is good for him." Morgan chuckled quietly, but Robin honestly didn't care for his words now as long as he left her alone as soon as possible. It didn't even matter that he had fallen victim to the same delusions as everyone else. So when Morgan finally released Robin from his grasp and even had the audacity to give her a little push towards Snape, there was no time for her wounded pride when she was just lucky to be escaping his presence in the first place. Only once Robin was safely tucked into Snape's side two seconds later, she finally felt like she could breathe again.

"Thank you for the dance, my dear. Your divine company is always my highest pleasure." Morgan gave Robin another of his signature smiles. "I'm looking forward to all that is yet to come." His words couldn't have been more enigmatic and unsettling, but at least he bowed slightly and then disappeared into the crowd. Just like last year.

Robin let out a long breath to regain her composure, then looked up at Snape right at her side. He was undoubtedly angry and concerned in equal measure, as always when it came to her interactions with Morgan, and thus she offered him a small smile of reassurance.

"I'm alright, don't worry. The idiot hurt my back, but it's less painful than any of the times he slammed me into a wall in class, so it's nothing new really. It's okay."

"I let him hurt you, it is not okay."

"Do we need to be having this conversation again?" Robin gave him a look that was both pleading and defeated. "There is nothing you could've done and we both know that. All we can do is to start looking more thoroughly into what his problem with me is after the break is over."

"You are most likely right about that. Obviously." Snape sighed, then placed a gentle hand on the small of her back with a questioning gaze down at her. "May I?"

"Certainly." The smile that came to her lips now was genuine, affectionate almost, and she didn't bother hiding it from him. They both could use some calm and comfort now. "Perhaps… we could get away from the crowds for a bit?"

"Certainly." He mirrored with a not-smirk, and Robin shook her head with a chuckle. He really had a way of cheering her up even in the worst of situations, and that was something nobody else had ever been able to do.

Without waiting for a better opportunity that wouldn't come anyway, they soon made their way through the hall while pushing through various groups of people who weren't accustomed to the unspoken rule that it was better to stay out of their way. Robin had never taken much notice of it before just now, actually, but she usually never had to squeeze through somewhere. People usually stepped out of her way quite willingly and let her pass without effort. The same way they did with Snape. In a way, now that people did stay standing in her path, she found herself equally amused and irritated by that fact. Perhaps being the insane girl everyone feared based on a reputation alone really wasn't all that bad after all.

They reached the entrance hall soon enough, and in an unspoken question and likewise answer, they decided against winter robes and for a heating charm instead. It wouldn't be toasty, that was for sure, but it could keep the cold away at least, even if that left the wind to live with. Now that the snow had been replaced by rain for the majority of the previous week, it wasn't as harsh outside as it had been half a month ago, and this they could very well feel when they stepped outside into the nightly courtyard side by side. With the charm wrapping around them, the temperature was almost truly comfortable here, but then again, there was no wind inside these walls, so that wasn't too much of a surprise.

It again went wordlessly that they sauntered through the arcades and to the other end of the open space, out into the night and away from the busyness of the castle at long last. Away from the people, away from Morgan. His words still sounded as a dull echo in Robin's mind, now that everything else was silent. Not all of his nonsense had lingered of course, just… that one thing he had said wouldn't stop nagging at her. What he saw when he looked at her. The hollow darkness of inevitable death. It probably was just his overly dramatic way of being hostile and threatening, but then again, perhaps what he saw was the same thing that made everyone else scared of her as well. And as all things inevitable, it drew closer and closer to the surface, where everyone could see. Maybe that's why her reputation had grown exponentially more sinister over the years… Maybe that's why Morgan's words threatened to suffocate her now. Because she really was just a hollow darkness to the people around her.

"Talk to me, Robin…" Snape's voice drew her out of her mind as it did so often these days. They were sauntering down the hill now, almost having reached the shore of the lake… and she hadn't even noticed. "You are getting lost again, and by the look on your face I can tell that it isn't a nice place you are vanishing into. Will you just tell me what is bothering you for once, or do I have to ask on?"

"It's… just something Morgan said." She sighed deeply, and tried for a half smile when she looked up at Snape. "I really should know better by now than to let him get to me like that every single time, huh?"

"He has a way of getting under people's skin regardless of how hard they try to resist. It happens to the best."

"To you?"

"Obviously."

Robin let out a small amused huff in reply, but then stopped in her saunter and turned to face Snape when he did the same. "Can I ask you something odd?"

"Don't you always?" The returned question was more encouragement than tease for once, and Robin honestly felt glad for that. 

She knew she had to ask, but in the end she would also need the courage to bear the answer as well. Taking a deep breath, she kept her eyes fixed on his and finally brought up the courage to speak the words that had been threatening to break past her lips anyway. "When you look at me... what do you see?"

"Everything." His reply came in such a calm sincerity, such genuine and complete certainty that Robin forgot how to breathe for a moment. She even forgot why she had asked in the first place, with an answer that told her so much more than the question demanded. A shiver of sheer and utter delight ran over her skin; she couldn't remember how to speak with words. So all the questions and answers of the world lay in her gaze alone. She wanted to be everything to him more than she had ever wanted anything else.

"Why do you ask?" Snape finally inquired, just as calmly as before, and the fact that his previous answer obviously was just another given to him almost made Robin laugh despite the newly arising hope. Perhaps she wasn't a token of death to everyone… to the one person that mattered she obviously was quite a bit more than that. And wasn't that by far enough?

"Morgan said that all he sees in me is a beautiful masquerade that covers the hollow darkness of inevitable death." She finally sighed with a shrug, then sauntered on towards the shore with Snape following right by her side. "But then again he also said that the sharp edges of my personality make it difficult for him to put his mark on me, so I guess I shouldn't try to find truth where there is only insanity."

"A wise decision I wholeheartedly support." He replied, just when they left the muddy path behind and crossed over onto the pebbled edge of the lake that lay in front of them as a black mirror now, reflecting only the blanket of stars above their heads. A beautiful sight that made Robin sigh as much as Snape's question that came a mere second later. "Was there anything else he said that might be disconcerting?"

"Just the usual things he keeps saying to me from time to time… How much he hates that I 'desperately cling onto you', for example. Or that you love me too much." She said before her brain had the time to fully process how stupid of a move that was. Maybe it was the hope gaining the upper hand again… but the idea that perhaps she could be everything to him indeed was burning her up from the inside now. Her hope had turned into a wildfire.

"Dumbledore really should have Morgan gagged, if he already refuses to dispose of him entirely." Snape grumbled under his breath, and Robin's heart fell a little. That wasn't the reaction she hadn't technically allowed herself to hope for but had hoped for nonetheless. Of course it would upset him to hear these accusations… what had she been expecting? Ridiculous.

"Oh, you'd have to gag quite a few more people than him if it's just about these remarks." She finally replied with a sad chuckle, then with a silent sigh. "Too many people have been insinuating things like that recently. You know… about you and me. Us."

"Ah." His voice dropped down an octave, and the deep frown on his falling features was suddenly accompanied by a tinge of rising bitterness in his tone, a shadow of sincere sadness in his eyes. Then it was all apathy again before the fleeting emotions could be grasped. "I can see why that thought would be repelling to you."

And for once, encouraged by the shadowy ghosts of expressions she had seen on his face, Robin let her heart speak instead of her mind. "Actually, it just makes me wish quite desperately that it was true."

______________________________

Tags:

@ayamenimthiriel @chibi-lioness @t-sunnyside @alex4555 @purpledragonturtles @istrugglewithphilosophy @meghan-maria @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @darkestacademiaaa @nizem8 @girilimoni

General Tags:

@wegingerangelica @dreary-skies-stuff @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @theoneanna @mishaandthebrits @i-am-a-mes @nonsensicalobsessions @exygon @hiddles-lobotomy @rjohnson1280 @annwhojumps @spookycatqueen @salempoe @headoverhiddleston @fanfiction-and-stress @createdfromblue @thecreatiivecorner @themusingsofmany @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpionchild81 @crystal-28 @adefectivedetective @lokis-girl-in-mischief @booklover2929 @iamverity @lovesmesomehiddles @akk4rin @whitewolfandthefox @stuckupstucky @kassablanca13 @delightfulheartdream @hayalee8 @lemonmochitea

[crusherthedoctor]

Sonic Heroes: Sweet or Shite? - Part 1: SILVER

There are some heroes I like. And there are some heroes I don’t like. But why do I feel about them the way I do? That’s where this comes in.

This is a series in which I go into slightly more detail about my thoughts on the heroes in the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise, and why I think they either work well, or fall flat (or somewhere in-between). I’ll be giving my stance on their designs, their personalities, and what they had to show for themselves over the course of time. Two things to keep in mind:

1. These reviews will be focusing mainly on game portrayals. Though alternate media will occasionally be mentioned, it'll be for the sake of adding onto a point if a portrayal is similar enough, or to compare and contrast if a portrayal is different enough.

2. These are just my own personal thoughts. Whether you agree or disagree, feel free to share your own thoughts and opinions! I don’t bite. :>

Anyhow, for today’s installment, I decided to challenge myself by starting off with a complicated one. Born from the future, and never content to stay put in said future, it's the saviour whose debut came from the most unfortunate game... Silver the Hedgehog.

The Gist: Once upon a time, in the distant future, there was an idealistic young hedgehog named Silver, gifted with the power of telekinesis for reasons unknown. With his amazing potential, he was truly destined for a wonderful, prosperous li-just kidding, it was shit.

“All two of us.”

For as long as he knew, the world was forever plagued by Iblis, the terrible Flames of Disaster. Cities stood in ruin, flames stood high, the floor was lava... it was a bitter life to be certain, all thanks to Iblis. Not even defeating the titular creature did much good, since it would simply come back to be a shitty boss fight another day. What was he - and his friend, Blaze, a character we definitely never saw before and definitely didn't have a completely different backstory before - to do?

Trust the first person he sees, of course. Even if they look like they might be related to the same Flames of Disaster that he fights so constantly.

If he had eyelids, he'd be winking at the camera.

This mysterious fellow, Mephiles the Dark, informed Silver that if he were to wipe out Iblis for real, he would need to take a trip into the past, and eliminate the root of the problem... Sonic the Hedgehog? That was what Mephiles claimed, yes. What was his proof? There was no proof.

That was good enough for Silver.

Oh look, it's Fleetway Sonic.

After an elaborate series of events, which should sound exciting but really isn't because it was just Silver going “Iblis Trigger grrr” in varying tones of voice, he was finally able to corner the blue hedgehog... twice! And despite having less fighting know-how than the hero who saved the world plenty of times, he effortlessly came close to killing the blue hedgehog... twice!

This looks like a jobbing for...

Why twice? The first time was halted by Sonic's friend Amy Rose, who Silver had met beforehand after she mistook him for Sonic, an understandable mistake that even the keenest of eyes would be forgiven for making.

The second time was also interrupted, this time by Shadow the Hedgehog. There's only room for one controversial non-blue male hedgehog in this franchise, sonny boy. Actually, his reasons were more benevolent than that: he wanted to show Silver the truth about what was going on, by time travelling to the incident that gave birth to Iblis. Why was one able to to this, so long as more than one Chaos Emerald was present? No one knew.

That was good enough for Silver.

“I challenge you to a dumb-off.”

As it turned out, Iblis was one half of a sun god called Solaris, the other half being the aforementioned Mephiles. The Duke of Soleanna wanted to reunite with his late wife by harnessing Solaris' power, which succeeded from a certain point of view since he's dead now too. The resulting blunder split Solaris into two halves. One half was all brawn, with little capacity for intelligence. The other half was Iblis.

Understanding the error of his ways, and after making peace with Sonic, Silver went back to the future to try something different, which consisted of doing the same thing he always did. Luckily for him, the script decided it would work this time, albeit at the cost of Blaze sacrificing herself... Maybe? Sort of? It’s not entirely clear what happened to her, and it’s not like this was the last we ever saw of her.

~La laaaaaa, la laaaaaa, la laaaaaa, heading to a better game, la laaaaaa~

But ohhhhh nooooo, turns out THAT didn't solve anything either! In the present, Sonic was killed by Mephiles, after the latter realised he should probably do that already if he wanted to make any progress at all with his plan. This incident led to Iblis being brought into the present, and they fused to become the omnipotent Solaris once more. Such power... such divinity... such devastation...

Actually, he was really easy. The antlion from Underground Zone was harder.

Manchild robots - 1, god of time - 0.

With their super forms in tow, Silver, Shadow, and the revived Sonic joined forces to defeat Solaris, with Sonic in particular going the extra step in retconning Solaris out of existence entirely. Since time itself reset, meaning Iblis was no longer a memory, Silver's timeline was given a second chance. What was he to look forward to in this new, promising future?

Shit.

The Design: Let's take a closer look at Silver's appearance, shall we?

Or rather, a certain thing that's wrong with it.

He's holding up fifteen fingers.

Yes, you all know what I'm pointing to: the hairstyle. Let it be known that I'm very aware of the intention behind this design choice. It's supposed to be based on the Japanese Red Maple Leaf, which holds a lot of relevant symbolism for Silver's character. This is a fine idea in theory, and I can respect the intent and the creativity.

But here's the thing: If it looks like a ganja leaf, people are going to say it looks like a ganja leaf. I know some fans will gnash their teeth at me saying this, but the fact of the matter is that intentions and ideas, no matter how good they may be on paper, don't always translate well into the final product. Unleashed Secret Rings Black Knight Sonic '06 in general is certainly no stranger to showcasing examples of that, and Silver's hairstyle is no exception. There are ways to incorporate symbolism in a character’s design without making them look like meme bait in the process, and no amount of “umm ackshually” will change that, I'm afraid.

That said, there's another reason why I'm staying clean of Silver marijuana: it doesn't work for a hedgehog character. With the other hedgehogs, their hairstyles are simple and get the point across: Sonic's goes without saying, Shadow's is more angular to befit a slightly rougher hero, and Amy's is a cute bob cut of sorts. But Silver? Even without the ganja, you've still got the two tentacles making up the back of his head.

I'd rather not be reminded of hentai quills, thanks.

“I thought Crusher-san would like it :’(”

I do find it hilarious that they went through numerous designs for Silver, and this was what they chose to go with. Some of his prototype designs may have fared better had any of them been used instead... but we didn't end up with any of those ones. We ended up with this one, therefore I'm judging this one.

But don’t worry, it’s not all bad with Silver...

The Personality: As far as actual character goes, Silver's personality is as straightfoward as most characters in the series, yet it's no less interesting, because it took a while for it to fully evolve to what it currently is. The seeds of his character - a good-natured yet awkward and rather insecure kind of guy, who doesn't fully understand how the present time works - have always been there, but it was often downplayed in earlier titles due to him being hungry for Iblis Trigger blood... or being an arsehole for no reason.

Although to be fair, everyone in Rivals is an arsehole for no reason.

Eventually though, after the writers gave him a Snickers, these traits got more opportunity to shine. Mostly in side media admittedly, but it's been noted in the games as well. With no Iblis to angst over, he's proven to be a surprisingly bubbly chap, who just wants to know how you're all doing, fellow anthro kids. And whereas his naivety was previously used for intended tragedy to benefit the evil plan of a guy who thought taking the -istoph- out of Mephistopheles would make him inconspicuous, now it's been used for a bunch of low-key contexts that do a much better job at endearing him to the player.

Finally, something I can relate to.

Hell, he even seems to have learned from the Mephiles incident, as he was quick to make it clear to the next shadowy deep-voiced anthro with demonic eyes he met that he wasn't gonna fall for any of them fibs no more, ya hear?

“YouTube and Twitter don’t count.”

All in all, it works well enough, in my opinion. His personality does pave the way for some funny and wholesome moments, and since they’re no longer trying to build him up like he’s Shadow 2.0, he's nowhere near as much of a tool as he was before. So I guess you could say... I like it?

Does this mean I can say that I like the character as a whole then, design and '06-induced idiocy aside?

Well, not quite...

The Execution: This is where the complication part comes into play. We know now that I like his personality, not so much his design, but that's only the half of it. It would be more accurate to say that I like his personality... and dislike everything else.

Aside from that, obviously.

For starters, the creation process for his character and story was summed up with, in their own words, “Think Trunks from Dragon Ball Z”. So he comes off as rather lazy and uninspired. Now I'm not expecting my Sonic characters to be 100% unique, there's always going to be similarities to other franchises no matter what you do, even if subconsciously or by complete coincidence. Taking inspiration in itself is no big deal at all.

But... was that it? Copying a DBZ character to such a blatant extent? Was there no other thought put into it?

Naturally, this ties into an overarching problem: the franchise's mid-00's habit of trying way too hard to be the anthro Dragon Ball Z. Sonic has had DBZ influences since the early days, with the Chaos Emeralds and Super Sonic, but it didn't assimilate itself into every waking aspect of his universe. It was merely an additional flavor that added to the complete package, in the same way that a Death Star with a moustache didn't mean the franchise was suddenly Star Wars the Hedgehog.

But come the turn of the millenium, nearly every main title in the series ended with Super Sonic and/or Super Shadow saving the day, while everyone else either stood around being useless, or only helping in ways that no one actually cares about. Including the in-universe President apparently, since only Sonic and Shadow were featured in the photo on his desk.

Amy smiled. “I guess the rest of us can go fuck ourselves, huh?”

This reached its peak with - of course - Sonic '06, with Silver in particular being an obvious result of this then-ongoing trend. And yes, it would be unfair to use him as a scapegoat, considering it was already a problem long before he turned up. But moreso than even Shadow, it's an era that Silver is forever a relic of, for better or for worse.

But it doesn't stop there. Since Silver is considered a mainstay character, his gimmick of being from the future also creates problems of its own, because in order for him to make further appearances, he keeps turning up for little explained reason, and thus he suffers the Deadly Six problem of being shoved into places where he doesn't belong, for fanservice's own sake. Take Sonic Colours DS for example, where he went back in time JUST to check out Eggman's theme park... Okay...?

On one hand, I’d visit it too, since it's made by Eggman. On the other hand, I’d stay clear of it, since it's made by Eggman.

And when there IS a justification with more weight to it? It's just recycling the '06 routine of trying to avert his ruined future, which isn't much better. The cause may differ depending on the story, but if his future is a permanent shitehole for one reason or another, he might as well cut out the middle man and stay in the present altogether, since that's where his friends are anyway. But they seem intent on not doing that, despite the future schtick being a noose around his neck at this point.

In hindsight, maybe this was a hint to how the rest of the arc would turn out.

And then there's his dynamic with a certain purple cat... No, not Big. The other one.

“I’m here, by the way.”

Simply put: I don't like this dynamic. At all. Or rather, I don't like how they keep milking it. Blaze's backstory was radically changed to justify her presence in Silver's future, and it really shows, since she barely even shows up half the time, as if the developers themselves forgot she was in the game. But her backstory has since been restored to her original alternate dimension interpretation, so hanging around with the grey hedgehog is all good now, right?

To be brutally honest, I probably wouldn't care for this dynamic regardless. But I would be more willing to tolerate it, and I'd refrain from groaning every time they're seen together... if they weren't intent on playing it up so much in spite of '06 being wiped out, sometimes with a bit of commentary involving their thoughts and memories, which only succeeds at making things more confusing. If Blaze is around, Silver will be nearby, and if he's not at first, he will be soon enough. This franchise does have a problem in general with restricting who's allowed to interact with who (I personally believe Sonic Heroes may have led to this, or at least it accelerated it), but I'd argue it's at its most insufferable here, with Blaze's potential and her entire world taking a backseat to being the sidekick of Ganja Man.

And you might say “Well, it's part of the franchise now, so you'll just have to accept it”. To which I ask: Have you accepted Two Worlds? Have you accepted Solo Sonica? Have you accepted Sonic's friends not doing much as of late?

Yeah. That's what I thought. “It’s just how it is” doesn’t mean you can’t criticise it.

Meanwhile, Marine is lucky enough to get so much as a shout out.

So yeah, I have quite an extensive list of grievances involving poor Silver. But... very little of it has to do with him, right? They're all indirect problems that he just so happens to be linked to, as opposed to someone like Chris Thorndyke, who is genuinely a shit character through and through. This is more comparable to Tails being bitchy in Lost World, or Amy being manipulative in Chronicles, or Sonic being a smug dumbass in IDW, or Shadow not wearing a Hawaiian shirt in Boom. Frustrating, regrettable, but not really the character's own fault.

Yet even after all that, there's one last kick in the teeth... How do you fix all this? And how do you fix it when he's since gained a sizable fandom, many of whom like him for these very attributes? If you leave it as it is, you're stuck with this big, awkward mess that everyone pretends to ignore. If you try to do something about it, you'll get complaints about disrespecting the True Silver Spirit, and you’ll get questions about why you didn't create a new character instead... And if you did use a new character for the sake of a clean slate, THEN you'd get complaints about not using Silver.

It's a tough call to be sure, and it's such a shame because like I said, I do appreciate his personality, so I can't say he's bad outright. But with all this... clutter, I can only put him in the average category. So, in he goes.

Crusher Gives Silver a: Thumbs Sideways!

Well, I'm glad this one's out of the way. Putting my thoughts into words with Silver was harder than it should have been. I do slightly regret starting this series off on a rather downer note, but rest assured, it's a lot more positive from this point onwards, since while I have higher praise for some heroes more than others, the hero characters as a whole fare a lot better than the majority of villains not named Eggman.

I guess you could say that I hope to show why Sonic's friends aren't as shitty as the haters would suggest. ;)

[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

The boy on the farthest table

Kanene’s Notes:

So, I’ve been reading all the fluff content with Dadzawa I could find and I am very surprised I didn’t manage to stumble in a Dadzawa running a Cat Café so I thought ‘h e y’ why don’t I make it??? SO here we are!!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Dadzawa and Yamadad and their relatonship can be seen as romantic, if you wish.

* This happens in the same universe as This Fanfic Here and you can also find it on AO3.

* No warnings this time!! Only fluff and a bit of hurt/comfort.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing the manga/anime Boku no Hero.

* Something around 2.500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Eat a delicious snack, sleep a bit, take care and drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

                         [~*~]

Aizawa doesn’t really care about his clients more than the strictly necessary amount. He arrived where he is because of the cats and the coffee. If people paid more because he decided to mix both together and open a business with that premise than better for him.

 So, yes. Aizawa doesn’t care at all about his clients. Neither held any favorites above the others, don’t matter what Yamada tried to imply with his ‘discrete’ smug eyes and knowing grin as, for the second time today, the black haired worker narrowed his eyes at the boy sitting on the farthest table, lost in his deep thoughts as he stared intently at his notebook just like he has been doing for the past two hours, lazy scribbles fulfilling the lines in a tired, yet determined attempt to keep going.

 The owner of the Cat Café didn’t really care about what his clients did as long it didn’t annoy his cats or him.

 However, that doesn’t mean he kept himself completely oblivious of what happened at his establishment nor the persons who attended there.

Perhaps he wasn’t the most enthusiastic worker there – that is why him and Hizashi had an unspoken agreement that he would stay firm on his place making drinks and serving pastries, sometimes scaring some insufferable clients away, while the louder, social friend would focus in talking and getting the orders, – but he knew enough to not be a bad one.

 He knew that the girl with yellow bright eyes and nuts and bolts shining in between her curls liked strawberry muffins, tended to not be able to stand still for much time, and visited on Fridays, so he always kept one baked sweet hidden for her on these days.

 Just like he always recognized that tall, skeleton-like adult as soon as his form crossed the door. A client who came especially for the cats and the Jasmin tea, although always sneaked a couple and more glares to the cat-themed cookies, so he made sure to “accidentally” drop one with the donuts he always asked to go for “- a friend! He loves them but is often very busied with work… So, I thought I could try and treat him a bit after everything he already did to me!” And also, who, in the next day, came back to attempt to pay for the free cookie but was, day after day, defeat by Hizashi’s stubbornness and convincing abilities, leading the loyal client to make sure to put a generous tip on the Tip Jar as a revenge, making sure to stare intently at the pouting worker during the whole process.

 Or the young girl with red eyes full of curiosity and a tongue full of questions which him and Yamada took turns to answer, eliciting shy smiles, bright excitement and a glare full of gratitude from her older brother, who used the free time to study while she ate and played with the kittens, sometimes even falling asleep when his two friends – an extremely quiet boy with a gigantic sweet tooth and an electric smiley girl who always convinced the younger one to help her to gather the biggest amount of sleepy cats to nap on the blond teen before he wakes up in the middle of purrs and laughter - accompanied them.

 That being said, Aizawa liked to be informed and, above everything else, was good at getting the information he needed. He mastered the skill of analyzing details and understanding situations others used to ignore, making connections and arriving to conclusions that seemed foreign to others, that is why he continued to cast quick frowns and glances to the boy, doesn’t liking at all how his brain continued to run and turn, seeking for any answer or hints of what happened to him, only to get at nowhere. He was, obviously, just trying to assert the situation, which had nothing to do with the fact that the boy – always shining, always with such a bright smile every time he ordered anything – was alone on this Saturday. A not so rare occasion, since even though the café was a common place for him and his friends to meet – an occurrence impossible to ignore due how full of energy and joy and chaos and energy they all were, - he also seemed very keen to spend hours writing and studying on his own.

 However, there was something different today. Something to do with how quiet, concentrated, calm, lethargic the teenager was acting the whole time, which worrie- no, intrigued him.

 Because Aizawa wasn’t worried. Of course not. That would be illogical and preposterous. He wasn’t anything to the child, not his family, not a friend, not a relative, just the guy who grunted a one-word answer every time the younger tried to make small talk and pretend to not notice him and Hizashi trading cute cat videos and pics during the blonde’s breaks.

 Hell, he didn’t even share more words than the necessary with the green haired boy. The longest interaction they ever had was when the younger one came to him on his first time visiting the place and asked for more cat toys, since all the available ones were already being used. Which maybe or maybe not led to Aizawa leaving his friend to deal alone with the orders while he took his time to show and explain the favorite toys of every cat the green boy pointed.

 Which was, sure, only a revenge on his boisterous coworker since the aforementioned interrupted his morning nap by tripping on him on his way to the kitchen (and yes, it was Yamada’s fault for not looking at where he’s going and obviously not Shouta’s because he decided to ‘JUST FREAKING PASS OUT ON THE FLOOR. HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO SEE IT?’) and, not content with his actions, decided to lock the other out of his own establishment,  only letting him come back after lunch and, consequently, at least five hours of sleep, leaving him on the care of Nemuri, who proceeded to tease him unmercifully for the whole length of yesterday.

 Consequently, it was only a payback, of course. The gleam on the smaller’s eyes as he took notes on a well worn out notebook and the fact that, on the next Saturday, the boy distributed all the correct toys between his friends and their favorite cats were two completely ignorable things and therefore unrelated with the quick, barely visible smile appearing on the corner of his mouth on the respective day and every time he remembered that occurrence.

 But, when a quiet sniff reached his ears, Aizawa almost felt his neck crack with how quickly he turned on the other’s direction, just in time to see the ending of the teenager’s action of wiping a few tears away. The one who definitely didn’t get enough sleep on his entire life to deal with it sensed his left eye twitch.

 That. Is. It.

 “Shouta…” Hizashi whispered behind the usual smile he plastered for the customer in front of him, nodding while writing down what she said and chipping excitedly for her to just wait a little bit to get her order, deviating his attention to his friend when she moved away to sit in one of the unoccupied tables, both taking the opportunity of having no more customers in the line to held some private words. “Do you want me to go there?” his voice was bathed in worry, because his coworker was emotional like that.

 “No.” And Aizawa didn’t know why he was so fast to answer, however he was already washing his hands, mind running, seeking to remember how other people - besides his friends, who were barely humans, - worked. “You know I hate being the cashier.”

 “Riight.” His way-too-smug-grin was fast to become a snicker when his friend aimed a kick on his shin, which he promptly dodged. “Hey! I didn’t even say anything!”

 “Your thoughts are loud. I will be right back.”

 His eyes were focused on the kid, who now was curled on his chair, chin resting on his knees as his arms firmly hugged his legs, making him look even smaller.

 Aizawa grunted, part of him feeling inclined to just drop an entire gallon of water on his head to successfully wash all his problems way, or maybe shake all the bad, lying thoughts taking over his mind and resulting in a few tears to escape what, on its turn, made a strong feeling of protectiveness, which was immediately ignored, shines on him. But Shouta knew he couldn’t act on any of those two options because it wasn’t “socially acceptable” – nor very useful, but he ignored that part, - and “problems” and “people” tended to be more complicated to help than that.

 The older sighed, kneeling on the spot before the front door where the sun passed through the window and made a perfect warm piece of floor for the big, - extremely big - messy pile of purple fluff lay and nap without a single worry in the world, not even stirring as the customers had to tiptoe around him to get in and out of the establishment.

 Shinsou hissed when Shouta first petted him, although was fast to purr louder than a machine as the human began to scratch behind his ears, going back to his peaceful sleep. He was the most calm, chill and snarky cat he has ever seen. His hobbies consisting on getting on the highest shelves to watch the entire place with a judging, tired glare and napping on people’s laps, especially when they were about to head out, which made his customers to order something else and stay for at least more fifteen minutes, not having the heart to interrupt the purple’s sleep.

 Needless to say, he and Aizawa got along just fine. Even with the animal’s habit of climbing him to nap on his shoulders and teaching the younger kittens to do the same thing, knowing very well the one with dark hair would never have the heart to put them away, the human knew he sustained a soft spot for him.

 Nemuri and Yamada liked to tease him, affirming that Shinsou was his cat form and Shouta would never admit he agreed with them.

 He also ignored the implications of that when he remembered Shinsou was one of the green haired bag of energy favorites.

 “I have a mission for you.” It was the only mumbled warning the cat had before being carefully scoped on the human’s arms, melting on the embrace, hissing, yawning and then proceeding to melt even further. Shouta huffed, amused.

 ‘Brat.’

 Another signal that the teenager was much more trapped in his mind than the normal was the fact he didn’t realize the adult coming closer, nearly jumping three feet in the air as Aizawa’s command hit him.

 “Sit correctly.”

 The teenager yelped, looking at him, at himself and then at him again, a strong shade of an ashamed red taking over his features. “O-o-of course, sir! I am sorry!” He bowed, putting his feet on the ground and straightening his back, a slight tremble on his movements making the adult frown.

 “Don’t think too much about this.” And before any protest could come out of the other’s mouth, Aizawa laid Shinsou on his legs, leading the boy to freeze completely, eyes locked on the cat, who just blinked lazily at him and started to knead his thighs, low, rumbling purrs escaping, demanding the new human as worthy.

 A barely suppressed squeal flew from the younger, who already seemed ready to cry again, although for different reasons.

 The cat café’s owner hid his amused smile by catching a kitten who approached with curiosity, petting him and proceeding to flop him on the soft, green curls. Ojiro meowed, purring and immediately attempting to eat his new environment.

 “I…” His wide, wobbly smile increased further as Shinsou butted his head on the teenager’s palm, his voice, a whisper, lapsing for a beat. “I love them.”

 There was no way for the adult to hide his snort at his words, but the Problem Child seemed unfazed with his reaction, turning to him with shiny eyes and smile.

 “Thank you so much, sir!”

 After a nod, Aizawa turned away and came back to his spot behind the counter. And if talking and taking orders when Hizashi uses part of his break to “discreetly” take a few pictures of a beaming boy smiling to the camera and pointing the cats on him to send to him later, is much more bearable than before? It has absolutely nothing to do with the young figure on the farthest table sporadically giggling as he plays with an Ojiro who is fiercely convinced he can win the battle against the red laser.

 […]

 “Excuse me, Yamada-san. I’m sorry, but my order was 476 yens and you only charged me 200.” Aizawa knew the boy was going to lose the fight the moment Hizashi only grinned and locked the cashier, completely ignoring the two pieces of paper on the other’s hand.

 “Don’t worry about it, little listener! Don’t worry! Take this as a thank you for letting Shinsou and Ojiro sleep on you for one hour, okay?”

 “B-but sir! It was no problem at all!” The way he moved to prove his point made Aizawa picture a small, energetic bunny. “I really like them and I was going to stay here longer anyway!”

 “Now, now, young boy.” Hizashi pointed a finger at him, trying and failing miserably to see or sound at least a tad chastising. “Refusing a ‘thank you’ is a serious offense, I wonder if I will need to give you a free blueberry muffin to go because of that…”

 “No!” Aizawa huffed, turning away from them and heading to the tables, taking the opportunity of how low the business was to clean and prepare them for the next customers, stopping right on his tracks, mid step as a wide, pleading glare found his. “Aizawa-san,” he shook the 276 yens at his direction, puppy eyes staring right on his soul, “please.”

 The dark-haired one scoffed, looking away from the powerful graze. “Don’t bring me into this. Fight your own battles, problem child.”

 Hizashi laughed at the pout he received in response, having pity on the loyal customer. “Okay, okay. I give. You can pay for this.” Aizawa glared at him, one eyebrow up in a non convinced expression. His friend winked, big grins as the younger turned to him, much more smiley. “With a hug.”

 Problem child seemed surprised, especially when the flamboyant employee jumped across the counter and stopped in front of him, arms open in an invitation. “Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” His voice was softer. “I can always accept 100 yens if you really want me to, little listener.”

 He didn’t understand the magic thing his friend always managed to do. The way he succeeded to dance around someone’s barriers, finding openings and walking through them, asking no permission to get closer yet always attentive when to stop and retreat or to talk about every or anything. The same magic he showed when they were teenagers.

 Tsuyu meowed and Aizawa kneeled down to give her attention for as long as the embrace lasted, pretending to not notice the two hugging behind him, the taller lightly swaying them while the younger relaxed, melting on the touch.

 A few seconds later the anxious bunny was bowing, thanking them and getting out with a gleam on his face, hugging happily the notebook next to his chest and petting Cloud before going away. Shouta came back to his spot, Yamada followed and the green hair disappeared on the corner.

 “We’re not adopting the Problem Child.”

 “But he already even has a nickname! Shoutaaa, it’s meant to be! And you’re already soft for him as well, don’t deny it.”

 He scoffed. “Shut up. You try to say no to those fucking puppy eyes next time.”

 “You fought well,” Hizashi patted his shoulder, his own gaze getting a dangerous, gleaming light. “Dadzawa.”

 The rarefied clients distributed across the café jumped when, between laughter and dramatics cries of pain, the blonde fell on the ground, a half pleased, half evil smile presenting itself on the shorter’s face in a flash before his impassive expression took over and he calmly continued with his usual chores, pointedly ignoring the ‘It was so worthy it’ snickered by his friend, still laid on the floor.

[moondustaeil]

anaphora ⧜ nakamoto yuta

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ✧☾.·:·. a n a p h o r a   

⠀ ⠀⠀ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ  

⁖ genre : royalty au - fluff , angst , very light suggestive content

⁖ pairing : yuta x reader (both royals)

⁖ word count : 15k

⁖ warning : badmouthing , light suggestive content , attempted thievery , family drama , mentions of a forbidden relationship , broken kingdoms , character deaths , poisoning , toxic plants , based on oneus’ performance of “be mine” in road to kingdom

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ

⁖ Rather than living without your love, Yuta would prefer to die out of hatred. Once at a banquet the man you were willing to devote yourself to but due the split of the kingdoms, you can no longer promise forever to him like you did that night under the moonlight in the conservatory.

〚 I ; ūnus 〛

"This might be the death of fashion diplomacy, look at that attire," A woman of somewhere at the end of her forties interrupts Yuta's path. It isn't physically that she interrupts him, but his footsteps halt as soon as he hears the words. The two silver chains that circle from his left shoulder to the right side of his waist soundlessly move along as he turns his body back.

He looks straight into her eyes, his head cocking to the side as he wants to confront her in the sweetest way possible. Revenge is on the tip of his tongue but the guard could be quick to snatch the symbolic entrance ticket from between his fingers if he caused a stir.

"Are you talking about me?" He decides to ask her, letting go of his lower lip to flash her a smile. His smile nearly shines as bright as the glittering silver parallel-running lines upon his black blazer. But his smile doesn't catch as much attention as his outfit does, and yet, he doesn't feel ashamed about his attire.

"If you feel addressed then it must be about you, right?" She asks in return, her lips curling until she's able to imitate his smile. While he looks for revenge, she just tries to overpower him with the sugary sweet and yet snarky comments. Yuta can't help but hum in approval "I guess that's accurate, you have a point there."

He isn't afraid to show how she has a point because after all, he feels like he won even though the minuscule passage of words wasn't part of a contest. "Now, I would like to talk about having an excellent sense of fashion all night but seems like I should not waste time on people who don't have such things from the start," he shrugs his shoulders to hide the prideful words that slip from his lips. After giving her attire one last shameless glance, he turns on his heel and walks away from her.

Somewhere in the distance people are either way spreading their half-opinionated gossip or looking at him like he just killed an evil authority. Whether it's a good or bad thing isn't something that bothers Yuta, his footsteps don't get any heavier as he steps between the crowd on his own.

The potion has been stirred but not enough for his entrance ticket to be snatched away, yet enough for his father to walk up to him with disappointed eyes.

"What was that about?" His father asks in a quiet shout, pulling Yuta by the tight cupp of his puffed blazer. Merely by the button as the fabric is tightly resting around his wrist, too tight for his father to hook his fingers on the inside of it. "Nothing, she was just inquiring about my outfit," Yuta answers simply.

It's not hard to pull from the barely-existing grip, the undamaged button rests against the cupp again. "You know these sorts of people, you are supposed to nod your head and agree to all they want you to agree on, understood?" His father starts the real lecture in the middle of the crowd-filled room. Watched or not watched, Yuta has no care for it, and apparently, his father doesn't mind giving free lectures.

"Said no one, father. Jaehyun, Mark, or any of the others don't want to be treated like this either and they are in a way higher position than that twat," He tells his father but is aware of the answer that he will receive to his words, of course, he will get the response that he's not supposed to involve his stupid friends in serious matters like this. "Do I need to remind you that Jaehyun, or Yoonoh as you should say, nearly lost his position when he shared the sheets with a lady he had never seen before?"

Yuta clenches his thumb between his balled fist, creating the cracking sound as he only grows more assertive when hearing the words. "Oh father, please stop believing human newspapers, they're no good ass wipers," he mentions lightly but the consequences aren't as smooth as his words are.

He's willing to get scolded for protecting one of his friends: yes Jeong Jaehyun nearly lost his position when he shared the sheets with a woman. But added to the false story should be the truth, that Jaehyun had been sharing a secret life with the woman for more than half a year. The scandal was only a scandal because the woman was just an inhabitant who didn't occupy herself with kingdoms, authorities or wealthy cowards.

"This is the first and last thing I am hearing from you today, Yuta, if I hear one more thing, you can forget coming to events like this."

Yuta just carelessly nods his head before he walks away from his father, not caring whether the words would come true or not. He doesn't see why he would need to attend banquets, balls or any other formalities: it only cost him time and money as his outfits weren't exactly bought on a weekly market, neither were his exact body sizes measured by a randomly generated number.

"As if I care," he mumbles as soon as he is far enough from his father, he wouldn't have minded if his father heard the words but still protected the last bit of image that he had left. His footsteps were slow but not slow enough to match the still ones of everyone around him: curious ladies that were staring at him with either distrust or lust, men that tried to keep their wives from starting a vicious circle of rumours. Yuta pushes his body through the empty space that everyone left for him until he is standing near one of the large windows.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Yuta grasps his cake fork between his thumb and index finger as soon as a plate with a large piece of cake is presented to him. He's about to dig in and scoop the point of the cake onto his fork but the voice of the person next to him momentarily stops him from doing so.

"Did any of you hear something about marriage already?" Mark Lee asks out loud to everyone who is sitting on the same part of the table as him, obviously, he only finds himself around people of the same age with a few years minus or plus that is. Yuta expects Jaehyun to let out a quiet huff but realises his friend isn't there to complain about the matter of a wedding. Yet, enough people around him are willing to take over.

"My parents are trying to find me a partner, it almost seems like one of those contests of who the most beautiful person is but only if they're rich enough," Mark answers his own question before anyone else can, clearly he just needs someone to listen to him even though no one can fix his situation.

Opposite of Yuta is the eldest of the group, Moon Taeil. As relaxed as Taeil is, there is also a part of him that values tradition and rules over anything else. Perhaps he doesn't follow them as much as Doyoung does, but as he's the eldest, people are more likely to listen to him than to Doyoung. "It's the way it is, we all have to get married someday soon."

"Well it's you who should go first then, you're the oldest here," Yuta says in a teasing way to rub the fact in a little more, he knows it wouldn't affect Taeil because Taeil follows his tradition and has been preparing himself for the important moment to come. "I will," Taeil answers simply, it's simple but seemingly a hidden message hides behind the words.

Yuta glances at Mark who started the talk about marriage but didn't find relief as no one really picked up on his words with a sense of empathy. He doesn't really feel bad for his friend, with the simple reason that he has to undergo the same, and probably even earlier than Mark does.

"What about you y/n?" Taeil asks you as he drifts away from his group of friends for a little moment, not that you're not a part of his friend group, you simply never informally met Yuta or Mark which was why he decided to try and involve you in their conversation right now. You were listening anyway so it might be a good moment to bring you into his group of friends.

"My parents truly organised this for me to possibly find a fiance but instead of allowing me to talk to possible candidates, they claim me," you explained to Taeil with a soft sigh leaving your lips. You had no idea whether you sighed because you were forced to find a future husband or because your parents had claimed you until the moment you were seated at the table.

Taeil nods in response as he is actively listening to what you're saying, yet, Yuta can't help but let out a soft snort as he is amused by your story. Not because you're the starring role in the confusing wishes of your parents, but because parents will always be parents. "That's what all parents do. If you didn't see earlier, my father still tries to grab me by the sleeve like I'm a little boy who is about to cross a busy street," he tells you and the rest of the group.

The words make everyone want to change the subject to what happened earlier, a little moment everyone had seen: Taeil had seen it even if he only made his entrance at that moment, Mark had been able to see it whilst conversing with some wealthy people and you had seen it from your position as your parents lectured you about who was going to be present at the banquet.

"Yeah that was a wild scenario, man," Mark says as he can't help but think back, it's nothing unfamiliar as he had seen Yuta with his father before. Yuta was just too free-spirited to always listen and obey to everything that others tell him and he's not afraid to make a scene out of it.

"All because some lady made fun of my attire. She called it the death of fashion or something," Yuta says as he once again snorts at the short memory of the gossip he heard barely a couple of minutes after making his entrance. He would admit he was salty about it but didn't think about it longer than five seconds as it wasn't important.

You can't help but look at Yuta as he's saying the words: first you start at the features of his face but the moment he mentions his attire, you can't help but stare at his upper body. The black blazer has puffed sleeves that tighten around his wrist and is decorated with parallel silver glittering lines, then there is a chain that splits in two as it goes from his shoulder to his waist, to finish the outfit there are some silver bands that coat his left upper arm and shoulder. It's more than a handful and you're sure that there is more that you're not seeing.

"It looks very unique," you say about his outfit and smile slightly at your own words, you're being genuine as his outfit looks like something you never saw before. Even though he got bashed for the attire he's wearing, it makes him look more expensive than anyone else in the big room. The lace on the long dresses, the fake fur on the men's clothing, they don't compare to glittering lines on Yuta's blazer.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

"Get home well"

You wave your hand to Taeil as he leaves the location, you're aware that he can't see what you're doing because it's too dark outside, but you still feel like saying goodbye to him in some way. Next to you is Yuta who made the excuse that he needed some fresh air just so that he could say goodbye to his friends and stay around you for a little bit longer. It didn't look like his father was leaving anytime soon which is why he took the chance to escape for as long as he could.

"So have you found your future husband?" Yuta inquires curiously as he stands next to you, waving his hand at Taeil just like you did despite also realising it wouldn't be shown in the dark. Soon his eyes go to you as he sees you shaking your head from the corner of his eye "I don't think I did. I'm not planning on marrying Taeil, I've known him for so long," you say honestly.

"What about Mark?" Yuta asks, giving you the option to admit if you found someone to your liking. Even though you said you didn't but Yuta just wants to know for sure before he continues to talk to you and perhaps flirt with you a little bit more than he did already.

"Nice but not as my brother, he seems like a little brother."

Yuta can't help but laugh out loud to your words because he felt the exact way. He wasn't ever going to marry Mark but did see Mark as his little brother more than anything else: there was just something about him that made him the perfect little brother compared to real little siblings.

"Sounds like I'm the last candidate then," he says in a joking tone as the two of you start taking awfully slow steps in no particular direction. It's automatically that your feet take steps without your mind wondering where your feet are wandering off to.

You softly laugh along to his words for a few seconds, letting your laugh fade out when your mind tries to see an image of you getting married to Nakamoto Yuta. He's attractive and perhaps he's from a family that your family would appreciate, but the man himself is something people would be against.

"Sounds like it," you respond finally as you stare ahead and notice the conservatory coming into view. It's not an unfamiliar place but it's not like you find yourself there on a daily basis. Still, right now it seems like a fitting space to walk to together with Yuta.

Yuta can't help but smile at your words even if he doesn't see himself getting married anytime soon, perhaps in a few years when he feels ready to settle down, especially knowing marriage must also mean starting a family. "Did you expect to find a future husband tonight?" he asks curiously as he sees where you're going and mindlessly allows his footsteps to imitate yours.

"Far from yes," you answer his question as honest as you can, still staring ahead of you towards the conservatory. It's not a long walk but you're anticipating the moment you can open the door and explore the greenery in the darkness together with Yuta. Both of you seem to need some minutes away from the heavily decorated banquet, and now that dessert had been eaten, there were plenty of chances to sneak away. "How about you? Your parents must be looking to find you a spouse too?"

Yuta hums in approval, signalling that you're absolutely right when you assume that. "They don't force me but obviously try to stimulate me into finding someone to marry but how will I ever love someone that only meets up to their requirements but not mine?"

"You don't. We don't marry out of love, my parents were kind enough to at least tell me the truth about that"

Your words open a new dimension for Yuta, just like the door to the greenhouse is opened before the two of you walk inside. It's pure darkness and yet your eyes can easily recognise the different shades of green and the forms of leaves and other plants.

"Your parents might be right about that," Yuta admits as he walks behind you, giving the greenery a brief look before he tries to follow your figure with his eyes. He is very interested in nature and would love to go on endless walks and hikes in unexplored green masterpieces, but right now, his attention shifts to you.

Minding your steps to not accidentally step on a plant, you make your path through the greenhouse to the place where you usually take a seat to be away from everyone and everything. But being in the darkness, the path doesn't seem clear enough to walk on without accidentally hurting a fallen leaf.

The sound your feet make when they come in contact with greenery is the only thing that keeps the silence from comfortably walking between the two of you, there's distance enough for it to sneak in and almost third-wheel unnoticed.

Your steps align once you see the carved marble bench right in front of you, empty like each time you come to this place, though this time both spots on it will be occupied. On the seat of the bench is a carved satyr but you can't make out the little details since only darkness flows through the glass roofing.

"Let's sit for a bit," you suggest as you sit on the side that you automatically always take, leaving the other spot free for your companion, Yuta. Yuta does as you suggest and immediately plants himself on the cold bench next to you, his eyes staring at the window that can only show him the darkness of the outside world.

"Is this where you take party victims?" He playfully asks you as he turns his gaze to you instead, watching as your eyes are on the same spot that he was looking at seconds ago, not that there is much to see as the night seems close to an unrecognisable shade of black. Before you laugh, he observes how your mouth lightly parts before the sound escapes.

"If I can be a victim as well then you could say I take party victims here," you tell him after your soft laugh dies down against the air. Yuta's own laugh of slight amusement dies soon after yours even if it threatens to stay for a bit longer because of your confession.

It's not funny but without laughter, the oxygen-filled air would feel as heavy as it was in reality and right now both of you prefer to keep it light in the greenery-filled glasshouse.

"I'll be one of your victims, you should invite me more."

〚 II ; duo 〛

Yuta's boot-clad feet skillfully avoid the fallen leaves on the ground as he walks into the greenhouse, even though it's his third or even fourth time, he's not accustomed to the path he has to follow just yet. Luckily the ground already drew out the path by decarmating the stones that led him towards the bench.

The bench is still empty when he arrives and he takes that as an opportunity to explore a little further in the maze of greenery. Even though he follows the laid out ground, he doesn't exactly follow any path, his eyes are fixated on his surroundings as he walks.

Even though the endless windows lock him up in the glasshouse, he feels like he is taking a stroll in nature. A place that is yet to be discovered by some, a place where he doesn't have to remind himself of his manners towards the wealthy and treasured of the country.

The greenery greets him without words which is quite something else compared to the endless badmouthing that ordinarily happens when he walks into the ballroom of an overly decorated event. The plants don't have critical feedback on his attire, his manners, his slightly longer hair, his personality or his wealth. Yet, the plants are alive and growing, just like most humans.

Some more living examples of people that do not badmouth are you and his small group of close friends. His friends for starters don't act as wealthy as they truly are and he's grateful that they don't act like that, they are just normal like any human that walks through the streets. Then there is you, who never judges him and listens to the many things he wants to tell while also trying to have a good time at the same time. Does that mean he appreciates you more than just an acquaintance?

The answer to the question he speechlessly asks himself is probably yes, you would use the words 'far from no' to answer the question because you seem to like giving that response more than just a yes or no. Perhaps he sees you as more than an acquaintance, even more than friends: his feelings for you are in bloom just like some of the flowers in this greenhouse.

Having those feelings means that he no longer wants you to find a spouse, neither does he want his parents to find one for him. Independency led to this moment, where he can make his own choices in his lifeline and end up with the one he might just truly love. Yet, what holds him back is that he has never been in love before, doesn't have any knowledge as he never saw the genuine love between two people, and he simply has no faint idea of what he wants to achieve in the future.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long, my parents suddenly decided it was a good idea if they educated me on trading materials."

Your voice makes Yuta look up from the point that he was staring at, he doesn't have a clue what point he's exactly staring at and before he's about to find out, his body is already spun towards you.

"Hello," He greets you with a smile, ignoring your previous words because he simply did not hear them while being one with his thoughts. His eyes greet you as well: without judging going from your facial features to the outfit that you're wearing to cover your skin. The colour of your attire compliments you: midnight blue might just become his new preferred colour if you continue to look as magical in it.

"You didn't get lost whilst waiting for me right?" you ask with a smile on your lips as you let your eyes move in the same circle that a clock makes, just to get familiar with the greenery around both of you, perhaps it could explain what Yuta was staring at for as long as you had been watching him from a not-so-far distance.

Yuta shakes his head in response and slowly walks up to you "no, of course not. I stopped by the bench not long ago but seeing you were not there yet, I decided to explore a little," he explains even though there is no need for him to do so. You don't seem enraged by his exploration so you probably don't mind it when he lets his eyes wander and his feet explore.

"We can walk around here some more if you would like, there is much more greenery than you see now. Perhaps we could even water some of the plants together, even if it's unexciting," you suggest and smile at your own idea. It reminds you of a date even though it's not much different from sitting on the bench: after all, it's the same location and there hasn't been a confirmation that this was a date. "I would really like that," Yuta answers.

Before you are able to take off on your own, Yuta takes initiative to link your arms together as you walk. You're surprised by the sudden display of affection as you are aware that only those who are lovers are known to hold one another like that. It's a large step in the outing of affection but neither of you try to separate your arms from one another.

"So I assume you enjoy nature," You say to Yuta, not using a questioning tone despite your will to find out if he actually enjoys nature as much as he seems to, after all, who would agree to meet up in a greenhouse time after time without complaining about the green-coloured surroundings or scent of blooming flowers. Yuta briefly nods in response to your words, a smile coating his lips but you're too busy staring ahead of you to notice. "I love nature, nature compares to freedom for me. No one judges but everyone listens."

His explanation is what makes you look at him, there is no questioning look in your eyes as you seem to understand without further explanation. "Because nature is alive too," you say as you partially agree to his words. There aren't many opportunities for you to discover nature unless it's in the greenhouse, but you can imagine the feeling of walking on an undiscovered land, only filled with grass and large trees of which leaves slowly dwindle to the ground.

"precisely."

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The quiet whispers of the wind easily dwindle down the glass walls that kept you from truly experiencing freedom. Despite not being able to feel an unlimited amount of freedom: the wind wasn't present to disturb the small stream of water that collapsed on the tightly-patted loam.

"Do you ever receive flower bouquets?"

It is a question that should not make you flabbergasted because the never-ending supply of flower bouquets that you're given are no longer gifts that take you by surprise. Yet, rather than to be given a bouquet, Yuta is thoughtful enough to ask whether you ever receive them before he sets up his plan.

"I do," you answer his question simply. You don't say it to brag or for his plans to fall in the pond, but for the reason that you do get a lot of them. Every person that visits the gigantic place you call home takes at least one flower along, handing it over to you whilst pride reflects from their eyes onto yours. But your eyes don't resemble a mirror: they shine with a dull glow as you thank them for the friendly gesture but internally scold them.

"And?" Yuta asks as he looks over at you whilst you water the following plant, his grip tightening around the gardening tool that you pushed into his hand before starting to do a task that wasn't yours. "And that is it. Why would I need a bouquet of flowers that will wither merely a week after its been given?" You reason.

"As well as how this conservatory consisting mostly of flowers and other sorts of greenery? Because they don't wither as rapidly as the ones you receive?"

The questioning undertone in Yuta's voice momentarily makes you suspect if you are obligated to answer with yes or no to either of the times he used it. Momentarily truly lasts momentarily, the moment you find out he has been looking at you, you realise he was only trying to complete the answer to your question before you had to do the effort.

"Precisely."

You smile once the word leaves your lips, even if you contemplated him just a few seconds ago, you can't help but think of yourself as an idiot who nearly misinterpreted the words. Luckily you watered the symbolic flower before its petals started to dwindle down from the disk.

"But you still enjoy flowers?" Yuta asks curiously as he watches how you finish off watering every plant that comes in your reach. The endless refills of water make it possible for the flowers to bloom or for Yuta to stay by your side a little longer.

You nod your head in confirmation before giving him a brief but suitable statement. "I do, I just dislike like receiving them as a gift. Specifically when they are just an excuse to not come empty-handed."

Yuta senses how honest you are when you say the words, it's not only that as he understands what you mean from experience. It was impolite to request someone's company and not have anything in return, to the most when it was about a possible romantic encounter.

"Now I know that I should not bring flowers with me next time," he eventually answers but the smile is evident in his voice, but even more on his lips. They're curved upwards from nerves as he awaits your response.

"I won't accept any gifts from you, Yuta. I have warned you and I expect you to remember for as long as you're able to," you order Yuta in a rather playful manner. You meant the words, they were genuine despite the playful hue in them but you weren't able to give him a scolding for something that didn't occur yet.

"What if I accidentally forget?" He asks you in the same playful way, wanting to continue the conversation so that he could see your reaction. He didn't know what reaction to expect, there was a wide variety of emotions you could display in response. Soon it was proven to be his lucky day when a smile made its way onto your lips at his words. You shook your head in disbelief "perhaps it is time for me to find a new love interest in that case, and my mother will have a lovely flower bouquet to make my father jealous with."

"Love interest?"

Yuta's lips can't take control, allow him to slip out the words that laid on the tip of his tongue. By the way his eyes are widened, you can see that he is astonished. "Love interest," he repeats again: this time not to question you but to test how the words sound when he's saying them out loud.

You love the way the mixture of letters leaves his lips, you love the two words that you have been able to use for personal preference for the first time in your life. The way Yuta says them only makes them sound better, when he says them, it almost makes you believe he feels the same way about you without officially confessing.

"In that case, I shall not forget, you will not be receiving any flower bouquets from me," Yuta finally answers even though it should have been you who completed the cycle of feedback. Your first – and genuine – reaction is a smile that graces your lips from one minute into the other. From his words, you could dissect that he would have a fancy for being your love interest, or so you thought that was what he meant.

Briefly, you glance at Yuta before looking towards the large windows that lock you up in the glasshouse. Yuta is quick to follow your gaze towards the outside world: his eyes following the direction of the tree twigs that get swayed along with the wind. "Is there something else you could offer me, you know, to compensate for the flowers?"

Your words make Yuta laugh soft, his breath almost simultaneously blowing like the wind does outside the window. "What would you fancy?" He asks you even though he knows you are kidding. It became clear before that you don't waste words on people who bring you gifts in return for a bit of your attention.

"Anything you are willing to offer," you begin as you bend down to put down the watering can, leaving it on the ground before you stand up to face Yuta again. The smile that you carry on your lips the moment you look at Yuta gets reflected to his. "What do you think about love?" He asks you as the smile minimizes a little bit when his lips move to speak but that doesn't make it less impactful.

You freeze momentarily when you hear the suggestion, along with your body, your mind also takes a halt for a couple of seconds. Your ears correctly heard the question, as did your mind process the words before going in short lockdown. "I would enjoy that," you murmur whilst slowly dragging yourself back into reality.

A soft embrace around your hand instantly pulls you back into the real world, the hand closes around yours and keeps a gentle grip on it. "I will be looking forward to it," Yuta says as he gives your hand a little squeeze, immediately gaining your nod-filled reaction.

"Me too, Yuta."

〚 III ; trēs 〛

Hundreds of questions collect on your tongue as tastebuds: when one disappears, it simply gets replaced by a new one. Their flavours are dissimilar: some taste bitter, others taste free, and on the tip are many fear-tasting buds.

"How do you know they will walk by without seeing us?"

Yuta can only let out a soft laugh at the sixth question that slips from your tastebuds onto your moving lips. It's an adorable and wholesome sight to see so you worried, he misses the realisation how either of you two must be aware of the risks this takes along.

"It is very early, y/n. Most people out on this hour are on their way for duties and the children won't be able to catch who we are," Yuta tries to ease your uneasiness. The fine line between freedom and getting caught is what your feet seem to be walking on rather than the neatly stoned ground.

In response to his words, you nod, but the anxiety only grows with every step taken towards the civil world. "People on their way might still see us," you say in a complaining tone even though you only try to make Yuta see it in the way you see it. He has done this countless times whilst you rarely came here, and if you did, then it was not supposed to be a casual stroll with your love interest. "They are always rushing, they don't have time to look for people like us before they have to do their daily tasks."

You believe his words as this time, the little bundle of nerves in your stomach disappears but another knot is waiting in queue to get untied. "That must be true," you admit silently before staring at the barely-filled street in front of you. People like you and Yuta aren't as customised to a regular life, hence the reason why you still fear running into people at 7 am. But Yuta seems to know the case well and you can only make up from that, that he does these things more often than you know.

"How often do you come here?" You ask him upon realising how he also seems to know which way he has to take. It's obviously something people habituated here should know but you are still unfamiliar with the little alleys between buildings, unlike Yuta who took your hand and pulled you along, reaching the destination in a shorter amount of time than you estimated. "Maybe weekly, usually I come here at night to take a stroll. People sometimes get drunk so there will not be evidence if they catch me walking," he reasons.

Before a soft response in the shape of a sigh escapes your lips, you purse them together and opt to consider your words. The way Yuta mentions people and getting caught brings a high wave of anxiety to your stomach: the wild sea almost reaching to your heart. "So you did get caught?" your question stays unanswered for the first few seconds and once you look over at Yuta, you notice that he seems to be heavily considering his next move. "Someone saw me but as there has been so much gossip and the man was drunk, no one really believed his story."

This time you opt to not respond at all, you don't even have to purse your lips in order to stay quiet. You try to understand the prequel of the situation you find yourself in: allowing your love to bloom in another place than the greenhouse but the unwritten sequel might not be filled with blooming or freedom. You have to do things differently in the present in order to change the future but you don't take that opportunity. You only hold Yuta's hand tighter as your feet are aligned with his with each step you take further into the homeworld of humanity.

"It is a good thing to escape from the greenhouse for a bit. It doesn't give you the freedom you need even if you think it does," Yuta says. He notices you've gone completely mute by now, purposely not speaking because you are distrustful towards him or the surroundings. You nod your head as you're aware: you act like the greenhouse gives you an immeasurable amount of freedom but still, you find yourself between four walls that keep you secured in place.

"I am aware," you tell Yuta. Subjectively, it sounds like a way to make him stop talking because you're only getting more stressed but from the objective perspective, you're only answering to his previous words. Just like roses naturally grow thorns, you naturally grew the thought that you will never experience true freedom because even in this situation, you feel far from free.

"Shall we continue our walk? It looks beautiful so far."

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Inquisitive thinking such as exploration, investigation, and learning. It can be observed by anyone who is able to keep an eye on you despite Yuta making it clear that you were safe from the eye of the public. Your urge to explore and investigate could easily be called: curiosity. It's not something you can be blamed for because even Yuta is still curious about the real outside world after coming here on a weekly basis. You are not only curious about what the eye meets but also things you cannot observe: like the inhabitants that must lead their lives in this area or how it must feel to be able to lead a life in this context. Houses aren't overly large and there seems to be a lack of space due to the buildings not having gaps between one another.

Every couple of minutes you have been able to quietly observe as people passed by. You stared at them and wondered what it was like to randomly walk over the street and not tease a future drama about it. Luckily for you, you don't think people saw you staring at them which hopefully also meant that they didn't see you at all.

"Are you hungry? You must be, we left so early you probably didn't get breakfast served yet. Am I right?" Yuta asks you as soon as the street once again is empty enough for his regular voice to come through. Normally he could not care less about it but knowing you are a bit uneasy with the entire situation, he pours some water into the wine to make it taste less bitter.

Your eyes scan around before you choose to reply to his words with a small hum. You are quite hopeful to think that the end of your adventure is near but that story seems to unfold itself differently. "We should get some bread by the bakery," he carelessly suggests. With those words being said, you're left more than speechless. Do you want to decline? Yes, you do, but you dismiss the words and your heap of thoughts. Perhaps if you don't respond, you won't get food and Yuta will take the hint.

"How about that, y/n?"

Internally you use foul language to express your feelings but those words don't come to an official outing because it would be highly impolite. "How about what?" you ask him even though you know what he is asking you about, and acting like you didn't hear what he said might just give you an extra few seconds to decide whether that's a good idea or not. "How about getting bread at the bakery?" he repeats his words from before in a slightly different hue but they still mean the same.

"We can't do that, Yuta," you tell him before you're able to stop your mouth from opening. The sigh that leaves your lips once the words had escaped was one you had been keeping in for a couple of minutes too long: it's a long one that draws out the feelings you've been silently experiencing.

"Why not?" Yuta asks as he tries to discreetly point towards one of the buildings that you already passed by, a bakery where you could smell fresh bread and other related pastries but had passed by without giving it a glance as the owner stood outside of his shop to promote mouth-to-mouth. "The bakery is right there, we can just get some bread and eat it before I bring you home again."

"For starters, we did not bring any money to hand the man and I would still like to keep it quiet that we are here," you tell Yuta just in case he forgot the obvious. There are some extra excuses you could come up with but that would make things only less believable when the truth already escaped from your parted lips. "How did you want to get bread?" You ask as you await to hear his plan. With that, you only confuse yourself more: first, you decline his idea before you ask how he was planning on doing it. Were you just tolerable because Yuta and you shared a little more than just hand-holding?

"Either of us can distract him," Yuta simply stated, his fabric-covered shoulders moving up and down in a matter of seconds as he shrugged. The plan was clear in his head but the words made you only more confused. He noticed the look on your face and leaned closer to your face, his face tilting as he moved forward a bit more to speak to you. "And the other one can just take the bread."

Two reactions occur at the same time: either way you widen your eyes and at the same time, you shake your head rapidly. The ridiculous idea leaves you to have a moment of distrust in Yuta.

"Absolutely not, we're not going to steal. You can eat along with us tonight," you say instantly before you are able to process that it is not close to dinnertime. Though they would still serve you food if you asked for it. "Where did you even get that idea?" you ask as you stop your feet abruptly and turn your body towards Yuta.

Even though the regret kicks in, he doesn't back away and turns his body towards yours. A scolding is what he expects, perhaps because his parents would even be capable of killing him if they knew he suggested stealing from a baker.

He sighs and brings his left hand up to rub over his face, his fingertips harshly pressing against his skin and cheekbones. "Sorry," he apologises to you, wrapping his mind around the reality of the situation. He never stole anything before and suddenly he suggests stealing some fresh bread, something he did with a blank mind despite the setup he made a few seconds prior to telling you.

"It should be time to head back," you change the subject in order to once more buy more time for yourself. You try not to be judgemental because you know Yuta well enough by now: he's not the average wealthy man that you meet at a banquet. He's the rebellious young man that intrigues you and pulls you into his world. There don't seem to be risks in his life and if there are then he simply ignores the possible consequences: it doesn't give a great first impression but is like the sweetest song, sung by angels and it only pulls you in more.

The way back is filled with silence even though the surroundings seem extra loud, it's just the silence that makes the rest increase in volume. There's only one commonly shared word now that you're on the way back: it's Yuta who has his one-end conversation of saying "sorry." but you opt to give a soft breath and silence as a response.

Instead of Yuta dragging you along like earlier in the morning, it's you who marches towards your home. Yuta follows behind you, his fingers twitching now that he's unable to hold onto your hand. His eyes meet with the ground many times as he fears to see you going up the steps and inside without saying your goodbye to him.

Upon the ground and through the grass, his feet walk on the exact same spots that you walk but in relay. One little glance up and he notices that your property is already under his feet but you're not marching towards the home, instead, you're leading him towards the greenhouse. It makes him want to smile but he's unable to, his lips form in a thin line as he perplexes himself with the many different emotions.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

"Why did you suggest stealing the bread?"

The question doesn't catch Yuta off guard as he expected it sooner or later but at the same time, he's at a loss for words and doesn't know which excuse would be accepted. No excuse should be accepted and he's aware of that: which is why he stays silent and considers his words for a decent amount of time. You're not impatient, even kind enough to give him time to reflect on himself. In the meantime, you keep yourself busy organising some of the gardening tools: that way the workers don't have to put effort into it and you have some wasted time that goes by just a little faster than when you're not doing anything.

"I don't know, I really don't know. But I regret even thinking about it or imagining it," Yuta tells you as an answer, you could tell he genuinely thought but ended up concluding nothing because it perhaps was something that happened without him realising. His fingertips trace over the carved Satyr on the bench, it feels empty enough without you sitting next to him.

He eyes you as you are busy organising different tools, it's no use but you still do so. "I hope you are being truthful," you mumble as you drop the pair of gardening gloves next to the other materials before looking at him. Still, you don't look with judging eyes but you try to look through the facade to see whether he is truthful. You ask yourself whether you doubt him or not: you didn't doubt his truthfulness but his intention of stealing the bread. A selfish thought in your head tells you he wanted to steal it so that you could be fed, and it's a good assumption but you try not to fall for your misleading mind.

"I mean it y/n, I truly don't know"

There's no such thing as a correct answer in this given context but you're willing to take the answer because you trust Yuta and he sounds genuine when he says that he doesn't know. You wish you could hear a proper set of words but you could also wish that the situation hadn't occurred at all: that would be a much better wish to make. But there was no genie to grant your wishes, especially not when the situation already passed by.

"I'm sorry," Yuta says when he thinks you're not going to grant him forgiveness. You are so quiet that Yuta can't help but drown in guilt whilst you are watching from afar.

The seconds continue to tick by, they seem to get lengthier as you don't immediately respond to the apology. Eventually, you have no other option than to give him an honest response. "It's not me that deserves an apology."

Yuta nods as a signal he understands what you mean, he should be apologising to the baker for the things that almost happened. "I know," he murmurs in an almost inaudible tone, his eyes on the bench on which his fingertips endlessly trace over the carved figures.

After letting out a sigh that withheld mixed emotions, you sat down on the bench next to Yuta. In the end, you decide to forgive him because you can't blame him for things that didn't happen yet. "We should indeed buy some bread there next time, the scent was heavenly," you say with a small smile on your lips as you rest your hand upon Yuta's shoulder. Slowly, you let that hand creep up to his hair to gently comb through the locks.

"It did and I knew we were both hungry," he starts his reply, relaxation slowly dawns on him as he feels your gentle touch through his hair. It nearly makes him miss the moral of your words, nearly. "Did you say next time? Do you want to go there again?"

You smile once his realisation comes, or perhaps because you think back about the good time you had despite the anxious feeling and Yuta's dumb mistake. "I do, I enjoyed it. Not weekly but perhaps every once in a while," you say honestly.

The freedom you felt outside seemed unreal: there had been moments where anxiety filled your body to the brim but at the same time, looking at the world whilst walking around in it was positively different from looking at it through large windows.

Your hand slips from Yuta's brown locks when he turns his head towards you. "I think I am in love," he whispers a second after you look back at him, your head tilted to see his healing smile from a different point of view.

"With me?" You question hopefully as you feel bumblebees buzzing in your stomach, the sweet honey nearly edible on the tip of your tongue. A laugh falls from Yuta's lips but he rapidly reacts by nodding his head "of course with you, there has been one person that makes my heart swell. And that person is you," he explains, his eyes widening slightly as he confesses his romantic attachment to you.

There is a quiet second, interrupted by a sound of surprise aligned with Yuta's laughter. By your reaction, Yuta senses that you feel the same and is quick to make his next move. He inches himself closer to you before placing an unexpected and soft peck against your lips. Before you have the opportunity to return the kiss, your lips are distanced and smiles are unconsciously appearing.

"I might just be in love with you too."

〚 IV ; quattuor 〛

"Were you aware that the moonlight changes every day?"

Your head that has been tilted upwards towards the glass roofing slowly lowers itself for you to properly look at Yuta as he speaks. In response, you shake your head and twitch your fingers subconsciously as a sign for him to explain his random particle of information.

"The intensity of moonlight varies greatly, as stated, it depends on the lunar phase," Yuta explains to you as he notices your light motion and the interest on your face. You continue to look at him as he speaks, together with nodding, those two things make it obvious that you are listening actively to every word he says.

"Does it not depend on our eyes as well?" You ask as you silently wondered about it when he was speaking. You think your eyes are not always prepared to see the same amounts of light: especially not very bright hues. Yuta shows the same interest that you showed him not long ago and nods his head when you finish your question "hm, I think it does."

After that, a moment of silence settles down. Both of you occupied by the subject of moonlight and its daily-changing intensity. To speak honestly, there is no need to ponder about it for much longer, and yet, you two seem silently captivated by the subject. Perhaps because the moonlight is currently bringing a hint of its brightness into the nightfall.

You are the first one to break the silence because you feel how your head automatically moves upwards to look at the source of light and the acquaintance of darkness in the sky. "The moon is so beautiful," is what you tell Yuta who can't help but hum in agreement. His mind is only partially on the moon, as are his eyes because other things steal his attention.

"It is, sometimes I watch the moon from my room but watching it here makes it so much more pleasant," he answers as he not-so-gently throws his head back to look through the glass roof. The moon might be pulchritudinous but the true beauty comes from you. Yet, his words aren't complete nonsense. He watches the moon when he is alone in his room but while doing so, he thinks about you which makes him stare without being able to see much.

You smile at the words, your fingertips running over the back of his hand in a relaxed manner. "Me too," you say simply, your lower lip painlessly tucked between your teeth before you decide on confessing the other half of the story. "When I do, I think about you. That you must be in your room: asleep or watching the moon too."

It's awfully cliché but that is a side effect of lovers who have not been sharing a romance for longer than six months. Yuta doesn't show a negative reaction, he thinks it's wholesome that you feel that way, he feels the same way but does not admit it yet because he loves imagining that you think about him at night.

"Is that why we are here together tonight? For you to secretly stare at me instead of the moon?" Yuta playfully asks you as he inches closer to you, it's a playful moment even if he's guilty to the things he is teasing you with. "That was the plan, but I got caught," you answer with a smile as your own body moves closer.

"You know what happens to those who sin," Yuta mentions with a small smirk, his hands moving away from yours to instead embrace your waist. It's an easy way to pull you closer and have some physical contact at the same time, and he takes advantage of the moment do to both of those. His fingertips press against your covered skin as he runs slow and steady circles in an attempt to explore more of you.

You hum soft, an act that you do not care about the consequences of those who sin. In reality, you do care because the consequences are far from pleasant. Being in the contextual element, you know this is not about the harsh punishments people receive upon committing a true sin. Both of you are young enough to modernise the meaning of sin.

"Tell me what happens to those who sin?" You ask as your head wants to lower once more, but Yuta's lips press against the side of your neck, requiring you to keep your head upwards for a little longer.

Yuta's teeth gently nip at your skin when he hears your question, soothing the gnaw with the tip of his tongue. "Why should I explain, it seems like you're about to find out for yourself," he says before he clicks his tongue in a cocky way. Confidence and pride fight for the lead in his heart but lust takes the crown mercilessly.

The first sigh of pleasure leaves your lips after a soft hiss does, but the slight pain of his teeth brings you towards an unexpected amount of pleasure.

"Be mine," Yuta mumbles, the words not far from inaudible because his lips are hastily pressing kisses against your neck while he speaks. "I will be the one who loves you," he continues as now, between every word, the kisses seem to increase their lustful intentions.

You want to respond to the words, tell him you're his and his only but the forming drive to pleasure prevents you from wasting time on explanations. As if his kisses are not satisfying enough, his fingertips go underneath the attire that covers your bare skin. Due to the warmth of your clothing and the coldness of his fingertips, you shiver when his fingertips patch over your thighs.

"Yuta," the way you breathe out his name signals that you're asking for his attention. Your body is fighting against it and wants to beg for more but those words do not articulate on your lips, something holds you back from asking for more intimacy. "This is not right, imagine what would happen if they found out," you reason despite your body urging you to get closer so that his fingertips trail to more sensitive spots. The consequences wouldn't be mild if anyone found out, it's not Yuta who makes the situation problematic, but the authorities and religion that decides that the closest form of intimacy should not occur until marriage.

"Hence why I said I would make you mine, y/n, and trust me…," Yuta starts as his lips trace upwards, leaving the trail of hot kisses to go from the side of your neck towards your ear. His breathing is deep, driven by lust as even your scent is enough to make him want more. "…I will make you mine," he whispers.

The decisive whisper is answered by a solemn nod from you: you trust Yuta but it's mostly your own senses that tell you to stop protesting against it. Yuta's eyes let you undergo an examination, just to check whether you were okay with this. "I'm yours," you whisper as you connect your lips with his for a heated kiss.

The words "I'm yours," seem to split in two as both of you take the words in a different way, and you are yet to find out Yuta's true meaning behind the words. In your eyes, you had been his the second you went from acquaintances to love interests and it still was now that you officially were hidden lovers.

“Only the united beat of sex and heart together can create ecstasy.”

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Dawn. The first appearance of light in the sky before sunrise.

Dawn. The beginning of a phenomenon or period of time, especially one considered favourable.

Three minutes before there were only ten minutes left until the clock pointed its smallest hand at five. That was dawn. The way you silently laid against Yuta's side on a marble bench, your head resting against the area where you could listen to his heartbeat. That was dawn.

Moonlight chased away the shadows of the night and replaced it with the first light of a new day.

Your eyes are closed but that doesn't mean that you're asleep, for a few hours you have been dozing in and out of catnaps. None of the short amounts of time long enough for a dream, but you feel like you're living in one, so it's not needed to live in a visual world with your eyes closed.

Yuta seems asleep, you can hear by the way he breathes and you can feel by the slow beat of his heart. Sixty-one beats per minute is what you observed on a moment that you were sure he was in dreamland, but keeping track of the number of heartbeats and seconds was a difficult combination. Thus, it could have been a little bit more or some less.

After letting out a soft sound of tiredness, you open your eyes and greet the greenery with a small smile. Though it's mostly the memories that make you smile: memories of the nightfall and its nocturnal ventures. Your mind still holds on to the momentum: the patches of Yuta's fingertips on your skin, the whispers of naughty and nice, the swelling of your heart out of love and the ecstasy that mixed itself due to the heart and sex combining.

A red-pink-coloured flower greets you in its full bloom, it stands out next to the few pastel purple flowers. You can imagine the scent, or you think you can, but you realise you are lying between nothing but greenery and flowers that bloom.

The peaceful moment gets interrupted by deafening noises outside the glasshouse, they aren't extremely loud but the many different audible triggers are blaring. Yet, you're too far away from the window to properly look through it and the bloomed red roses are in front of the nearest window. It's not unusual for these noises to be heard, the time is what makes it strange. But you don't pay attention to it, not more than needed, or so you like to think.

"What are those noises?"

Your eyes shift from the red roses that cover the window towards your lover, it means that you have to turn your body slightly so that you can comfortably look at him. Once you're in a comfortable position, you smile at the sight.

Yuta looks tired and well-rested at the same time, his smile is small but the corners of his lips are twitched upwards the moment he sees your face. "I think someone just left or arrived, usually it is when they are looking for something or about transport," you answer his question so that you have more time to look at him without having to interrupt the moment.

His tired lips press a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth before he draws your body closer to his. "Good morning, by the way," he whispers as he distances his lips from yours properly. "Good morning."

Momentarily, you see Yuta disappearing from the real world and towards his own forest of thoughts. The thought about the shared intimacy come back to life there together with each minuscule aspect that he was able to observe with his five basic senses.

"I meant it yesterday."

You look at him while confusion is written on your face, rather than it's written on your features, there's a ceramic stamp all over your face. "You meant what," you ask and once more turn yourself more towards him so that it's easier to communicate. Before he speaks up, you try to recall everything that has been said yesterday but only two kinds of words come to mind: the sinful words and the outings of genuine love.

"I will make you mine," Yuta answers, quoting them as he said them yesterday. Yesterday or today, the words were still confusing. You already considered yourself as his, but he seemed to wander on a different part there.

Due to the sweetness of the words, you display a small smile but it doesn't fully replace the confusion that primarily outed itself. "I'm yours, Yuta," you tell him in case he suspects you might think otherwise. Perhaps he only saw you as a love interest until now, or perhaps he thinks you see him as nothing but a love interest.

"I mean, truly make you mine. I will love you, worry about you, and be responsible for you," he starts explaining before he stops talking, something rests on the tip of his tongue and he's not going to withhold himself from saying it. The set of critical words are more grand and they leave his mouth once his lips part.

"I want to marry you."

〚 V ; quīnque 〛

Yuta's fingertips are circled up against the palm of his hand, clenched in an angry fist. His footsteps are quick as he makes his way through the formation - that just like him is on the move - , harshly speaking he seems like a soldier marching towards the enemy with a loaded gun between his fingers. He doesn't get distracted by the walking of the people that try to hold him back without using the direct signals that they are trying to stop him.

Perhaps if his wardrobe would have allowed it, he would have been able to fit in with the crowd without getting caught in the act. But his clothes were surprisingly different from their attire: his black coat draped over his shoulders and the gold-coloured details on each visible border are shaped as non-existent flowers.

In his brain, he can clearly recall when you said a situation like this was not completely unusual. Still, the situation was unexplainable to him. It seemed like they were after him: not to chase him and get him off the property but almost leading him inside your home. The place where he had only been once to attend the banquet. Fairly speaking, he did not want to go inside because he would probably see your parents but if he wanted to find you, he would have to go inside

"Would you let my son in without those bastards circling him like he is a prey."

Yuta slowly looks up when he hears the familiar voice saying the words that only make his suspicion turn into facts. His eyes fall on his own father standing next to yours: while your father looks overly satisfied with his arrival, his own father looks slightly disappointed and his pokerface shows a lot more emotion than it should.

"What is going on?" Yuta asks as he glances between the two men for an answer, he knows he's being led by an army of people around him but he wants a clear answer of the things that are going on. When your father only motions for him to follow inside, he roughly marches forward, perhaps a little bit too unrestrained as people are no longer forcing him in direction of the door. "You may come in, Yuta."

Doing as he's asked, Yuta starts to walk up the steps towards the door before following his and your father further inside the place. With each step, he feels a heavy weight being added onto his shoulder and it is almost as if he left his courage at the lowest step of the stairs. Despite already feeling anxious, he makes it worse by starting to look around: not to claim furniture that your father would gift when feeling generous but to check if he could see any traces of you.

Whilst observing he can almost say that he doesn't know whether this family has children, there are no traces of you or something that reminds him of you. It's not even the lack of cohort portraits, it is the lack of personality that this place holds.

"Why don't you sit here with us?" Your father suggests as he walks into the room where he had been with Yuta's father minutes earlier, discussing merely one subject with a filled liquor glass in their hands. The seat where his father sat was still pulled out, signalling it had not been time to bid each other farewell yet. Once his own father takes a seat and your father does too, he sits on the leftover seat.

"I would like to ask why you came here? Or why you have been here almost every day for the past time…" Your father asks but the words suggest for Yuta to speak up so that they don't have to pull the words out of his lips. He doesn't feel like they just caught him in the act but manages to feel the astonishment.

Yuta clears his throat, swallowing the saliva-filled nerves before he speaks up. "I come here for y/n, we enjoy spending time together," the word he tells don't lie but he keeps all of the details behind for as long as he can. Not because he's ashamed or doesn't want to admit to your relationship, but because he feels the urge to protect you.

"And you lure y/n with you into town?"

That is the moment where he feels like he got caught, simply because of you, who had been so scared to get caught whilst walking on the most regular streets in town. He wonders how they found out he took you to town but also considered inhabitants possibly recognising him or you.

"For a simple walk, I had no intention of luring her to town with bad consequences," Yuta explains. But by the expression on your father's face, he can recognise that his explanation didn't add much positivity to the story.

"That is what they all claim, young man. But I hope you realise that y/n will not be at hand to marry you," your father says and before he can comment, saying that that will happen even if your father says no, his father takes the wheel. "If you do not allow my son to marry y/n, I demand us to nullify our exchanges."

The protection from his father gives him courage, he had never expected his father to give protection in this context but misses the clue that his father is only trying to protect future exchanges and deals. Perhaps he misses the clue because they say love makes people blind and he is deeply in love with you. Without suspecting the next step, he waits for your father to give his comment.

"Consider them nullified."

Yuta's father raises from his chair soon after the words are spoken out loud. "I suggest we return homewards, Yuta," he says to his son as he clears his throat uncomfortably. Yuta is unable to perform anything, staring at your father but he is left speechless and frozen in his spot. "Yuta," his father calls out for him again, this time successfully receiving Yuta's attention.

"I will not leave, not until you give me a fair chance to marry y/n. We have a lot in common and both of us want to take the following step," Yuta claims, his voice getting louder as he feels misunderstood. He wasn't just a young man who lured you into town for his own pleasure, he was a young man who wanted to spend the rest of his life together with you. "y/n and I are in love."

Your father is the second one to raise from his chair, marching the short distance between his and Yuta's chair. "Listen to me, Nakamoto Yuta," he starts before he presses his hand against Yuta's shoulder blade. It's not a light touch but Yuta is too stubborn to show his usual strong reactions. "We do not marry out of love, we marry for money and profit. But I require my son in law to have manners, and that is something your parents never taught you."

"I love y/n, and you cannot stop me from doing so," Yuta says as he pushes away your father's hand from his shoulder, he stands up from his chair and turns towards your father. Due to the height difference, it seems like Yuta is in charge but that's only an illusion.

"You are right, I can't stop you from loving y/n," your father admits. Once again Yuta fails to see a detail, this time blinded by his pride when he hears the words. It's a calm moment before the storm, and the storm is only a few seconds away. "Too bad I can stop you from getting married to y/n, and I will do anything. Even if it costs you your life."

Minutes later, the three of them are walking the large hallway in order to get Yuta and his father out of the building. Yuta's fists are clenched as he only states in front of him while walking: angry with the world, disappointed in himself.

An employé opens the large front door for Yuta and his father to for the last time leave this place without ever returning. Exchanges and money-related deals are officially unchained the moment his father walks out of the door. "I suggest you leave now," your father says as he motions his hand towards the outside world, an impolite gesture in Yuta's eyes.

"Allow me to do one more thing before I leave," Yuta says as his feet step closer to the wall, plucking the only decoration from its designated location. The flag's fabric is rich in texture and feels soft under his rough fingerprints, but the feeling in Yuta's hands is too bitter to botire the softness. "As a last gift to you."

A smirk displays on his lips as he glances between his own father and your father. He knows he will get scolded by his own father for playing a dirty trick like this, but he cannot care less about that. His pride and love are on the line and he will not allow anyone to touch either of the two.

"You see this flag right?" Yuta asks as his hand smoothes over the details of the flag before he grips the flag at two of the corners with his hands. The flag is fully stretched between his hands: showing the coat of arms to who he now considered as the enemy. One harsh movement and the flag showed its first rip: the start of something grander than separation. "I would be careful with your words, my life could be spared but yours not," he says to your father before he ceremonially rips the flag in two separate pieces.

The two pieces sadly dwindle onto the ground but Yuta is the only one looking at them with a proud smile on his lips. He momentarily doesn't think of the consequences this has for you: pride takes over his senses. He steps over the piece that holds the coat of arms of your family while he steps out of the door.

"Farewell for now."

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Unlike Yuta is told, he doesn't exactly leave the property. Told his father that he was going to walk home because he was in need of time alone to reflect on himself. Walked towards the greenhouse in order to meet you.

Seeing you in the greenhouse had been his intention from the moment he arrived but without a chance had lost his non-physical fight against the people that worked for your father. Now he probably was over an hour late to see you, perhaps you even left because you thought he tricked you.

There is a lump in his throat as he walks into the greenhouse and immediately closes the glass door behind him. The greenery doesn't tell him whether you are still here waiting for him but he doesn't ask about it either. His footsteps are quick and headed towards the bench where the two of you usually sit. More than just sitting had happened on the bench but lustful thoughts are not priority.

"y/n?" He calls out your name through the greenhouse but in the meanwhile doesn't stop his footsteps towards the familiar bench. His eyes are busy, wandering around the available space with the hope of you still being here. Soon enough his eyes meet with the red roses that cover the glass window, a sign that he is close to the bench. His body turns, almost dramatically as he knows he will, either way, see you or the empty bench now.

Despite the situation, a smile appears on his lips as he sees you sitting on the bench. "I missed you," he says as he walks towards you and plops himself down on the other side of the bench.

His words are left unanswered and after glancing at you, Yuta realises you look far from happy. "Is something wrong?" He asks you, his hand moving to your thigh, softly stroking over the fabric-covered skin. Deep inside, he knows why you stay quiet but he tries to convince himself that his thoughts are incorrect. "I bet you already know," you whisper.

Your whisper allows Yuta to let out a breath, his nostrils moving as the air is blown out. Momentarily, he doesn't know what to say because what he's supposed to say conflicts with what he wants to say. He needs to say that he is not allowed to marry you but he wants to tell you to run away with him and marry in secret.

"I am not allowed to wed you," you say softly. The heartbreak when you say those words intensifies: first it seemed mere cracks but now that you say the words, your heart is ripped in two pieces. Yuta nods his head, silencing himself by tugging his lip between his teeth. Yet, he can't help but speak "flee. We can do it together and marry without anyone finding out who we are and where we are."

The tempting words are like poison: appealing to you but there is no way back once you took a sip. "What will happen to us? We have nowhere to go, we won't have anyone but each other," you clarify as you once again are afraid to get caught like the time in town. At first, it seemed like no one found out, until today when your father stated the facts.

"Having each other is plenty. I will make up a plan and then we can run together," Yuta says as he takes both of your hands in his. The moment is intense because you're expected to say yes or no: you would say no because of your families and not having anything when you flee, but yes because you promised forever to Yuta and you don't want anything more than having that forever.

Without waiting for your answer, Yuta stands up and pulls you up on your feet gently. "Five days, we leave in exactly five days. Midnight and I will pick you up here, on the bench, in the glasshouse," he clearly states the words so that you'll remember them. You rest your hand against his chest, gripping the expensive fabric of his blazer before your grip loosens.

"I will be waiting for you,"

〚 VI ; sex 〛

Five days consisting of one hundred twenty hours.

One hundred twenty hours consisting of seven thousand two hundred minutes.

Seven thousand two hundred minutes consisting of four hundred thirty-two thousand seconds.

For you, time delays more than normal. Over recent days, you had a speed course on levelling up your provisional skills: lying to your father that you ground yourself in your room because you're heartbroken while you're plotting freedom with the love of your life. It's not an easy task but your father allows it, as long as he can lodge a complaint about Yuta and his family during dinner. You don't talk back to your father because you don't want him to suspect a thing: you simply listen and fraud your tears once or twice.

Yuta journals time in a different way. The hours tick by without difficulty even though he mainly stays in his bedchamber as well: he quietly coats his walls with removable ink that he's been given and draws shapes of patches of land or writes possible destinations as well as a list of things that need to be purchased in advance. Each dinner he will show up for a short amount of time, aside from the day that he stays in the common room until his father goes to bed, that night he lets his hand wander to a treasure of capital and hastily hides it in his blazer's pocket. Stolen money that he wordlessly promises to return one day, but the day would never come.

Whenever the nightfall takes place, both you and Yuta look out of the window: greeting the darkness as you wordlessly wish for one another: thoughts of the night where forever has been a given and received promise tend to come back. It's a coincidence that your desire of Yuta doing the same comes true, but he's simply so in love with you and can't stop himself from thinking about you.

With a little less than four hours to go, Yuta permanently leaves his room. His clothes are deftly hanging in his wardrobe and there's no doubt that dust will coat the exorbitant fabrics. The walls that had been scribbled full are now empty, not a trace of the plans revealed upon the wall. Just like they creatively appeared, they disappeared when Yuta washed them off. Something he takes along with him, is, money and the outfit that is wrapped around his body right now: primarily he is only in need of you and the rest belongs to an unnecessary subordinate.

Once his bedroom has been left, the rest follows minutes after. His father is left the moment Yuta soundlessly passes by his office. His entire home is left behind the moment he steps outside and pulls the door shut. Naturally, those things happen and he doesn't feel any remorse for doing so, he is willing to do anything for the person he loves.

From his property, his first destination is the town. If there is something that might make the flight more serene, it's food to keep both of you alive in the first days of survival. He goes to the bakery that he almost stole from once: a memory he can't help but relive because, despite its negative undertone, the memory consists of you.

The queue at the bakery is not overly long, a handful of people seem willing to buy the fresh-smelling bread. Just as willing as he is, perhaps they need it for survival purposes as well. Two women are in front of him and either of them is accompanied by a child that doesn't look older than five: it's not their turn yet hence why they spent their time being a human newspaper. "Did you hear? Apparently, y/n has been found dead," the words flow from her mouth.

For the first time, Yuta heard what they are talking about. Normally he isn't interested in news brought by human newspapers: what they tell us usually something sugar-coated or filled with a spoonful of sea salt. Your name is the trigger for him to listen, but what follows after, completely triggers him.

"When?" The other woman asks to keep the conversation running and Yuta can't help but allow all of his senses to work together. His ears have to listen as he tries to use his eyes for their body language, on the tip of his tongue is a bitter taste and he can feel tears forming in his eyes. "Last night they say, she was caught and murdered by someone that works for their family."

The words leave Yuta frozen in his spot, the coins that were resting in the palm of his hand are clenched between his fingertips as they form into a tight but sad fist. "Excuse me," he quickly mutters after his body is turned towards the exit, pushing through the few people that are lined up behind him.

Without bread, he leaves the bakery. His footsteps don't match up with the pace he wants to reach: sloppily walking as his mind is as mushy as porridge even though in his mind, he is running as fast as he can towards you.

"I need to get there," he ends up muttering to himself. Realisation of his hindered pace comes after he realises that the past ten steps didn't take him further than to the corner of the street. In that critical moment, his feet finally set off to a faster running pace.

Even if the past five days had gone by rapidly, time now went slower than it ever did before. His footsteps didn't change the pace of time, because no matter how fast he went, it seemed like he didn't reach much further. Tirelessly, his feet continued to run until the first changes in scenery were noticeable.

The streets from town slowly started to disappear, replaced by an uncountable amount of greenery. The only real street was in the form of a path that led him only further into the greenery.

Due to the fast running, his feet tend to oversee the details of the greenery underneath. The first time he stumbles it's over his own clumsy feet. The second time he stumbles and falls it's due to the roots of the tree that cross his path. His black-clothed pants are dirt covered when he sits up on his knees before standing up on his feet again.

"I will take responsibility for you till the end"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The rose as red as blood is the only visible factor as he glances through the window of the greenhouse. His hands are pressed on the glass for a direct look upon the bench that's inside: but the red flower prevents him from seeing anything. Now that he thinks about it, he remembers how the roses shielded anyone from seeing the pureness of your bodies as you made love underneath the light of the moon.

Silence drapes a symbolic flag over the property. It's eerily quiet for a long time but Yuta is too busy to notice the silence until finally, a sound drags him out of his observation process. In surprise due to the sound, his hand flatly places against the glass before his body wildly spins around. The large doors are opened and less than a dozen men walk out: dressed formally as they carry outside a variety of objects that Yuta can't make out in of the near distance.

He can recognise the colours printed on the flag, by the things he's been taught, he concludes that this will be the raised flag for the upcoming time. A time of mourning hence the monochrome colour of the flag. He thickly swallows before letting out a cough when the saliva collects at the back of his throat.

Unable to withhold himself from performing sentiments, he screams out of wretchedness. Knees colliding with the ground for the fifth time that day, but the pain is zilch compared to the heartache that burns through his shirt. When he thought his heart would no longer beat, the pace quickened due to one of the men signalling another by pointing near the source of sound. On his knees, Yuta crawled to the large door, letting himself in after he reached up to pull the handle.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

"J'aime tes pleurs. C'est la rosée qui sied aux fleurs"

Rather than the passionate red roses, blue colourized roses are plucked by Yuta's fingertips. Like you once tutored him: red roses symbolise passionate love and blue roses symbolise unrequited and unreachable love. His promise of never giving you flowers is disintegrated.

In front of Yuta's blurry vision are continuous drips. One drop, two drops and still going. His teardrops landing on top of the sadly fallen flower petals, withering together as a sign of grief.

Memories fall like rain at dawn with each blue rose that Yuta plucks: one for the banquet where you two met for the first time, one for your first shared kiss, one for the endless talks in this greenhouse, one for the intimacy under the moonlight, and the last one for forever that will never come but always be yours.

Five roses are clenched between his fingertips, strongly held as the thorns press into the thin skin. The spring shower of memories stops the moment he spins his body towards he bench, a loud sob wrecking his vocal cords.

"y/n," he calls out to you as he walks up to the bench, his knees willingly giving out right in front of the bench. The place where your body was laid to rest until further notice: the place where you would be at peace, the place where love bloomed much like flowers. Your parted lips almost indicate you want to call out to him too, but your body is still and so are your non-existing words.

"I brought you these flowers," Yuta says softly as he places the five bundled flowers between your folded hands, the coldness of your fingers lingering against his skin until he backs away. "I know you explicitly told me to not gift you flowers but these will not wither, they will bloom," he whispers as his twitching fingertips ache to touch you, but out of fear, he can only let them caress over the rose petals.

His head comes to rest against the edge of the bench. "I hope you like them," he whispers as he can only look at the ground in sadness, shame, heartbreak. His blurry vision detects coral beads on the floor next to something that looks like a brown bean.

Abrus precatorius.

From another memory together with you he remembers the flowering plan out of the bean family. The plant is best known for its seeds, or better said beads that are toxic due to the presence of abrin. Ingestion of a single seed can be fatal to both adults and children.

An old symbol of love in China, which they call "相思豆" or "mutual love bean". A deadly love bean is what humans would tend to call it within the town, simply because they had no idea of official wordings or the dangers of the plant.

Yuta swallows thickly, almost like one of the seeds is on the tip of his tongue and he needs to swallow it. But the bitter feeling on his tongue is due to the realisation of what truly happened.

"I understand y/n. Even if fate separates us, all your tear-drenched memories will die in my embrace," He whispers. The fingertips of his right hand move towards your cheek, stroking over the skin daintily. The tender touch is cold but the warmth of love fills his blind heart. Beneath the bench, his left hand clutches a handful of coral beads.

The decorational plant beads rest in his hand as he brings them up to his mouth. A mutual love bean: cause of death for the love of his life, and soon to be his own as well.

Well-chewed, he swallows the seeds all at once. A breath escapes from his lips as he soon allows his head to lay against your shoulder, your stiff and cold body, pillowed by a thin layer of white lace that covers your skin.

His brown eyes eternally stare towards the love of his life. His broken heart swallows the tears for the deep pierced scars to get healed by the droplets, as a consequence, death starts blooming from the cracks of his heart. Before nightfall spreads over the glasshouse, his solitary serenade is heard.

"Rather than living without your love, I'll die with hatred. When we meet again, I hope we bloom as flowers."

[legends-live-in-memories]

I Have Too Many Opinions. ep. 1

lmao. i got encouragement to post my opinions on fandom things and now i want to make a miniseries doing just that. so here i am. doing just that.

im putting it under the cut cuz this was 4 whole pages including the disclaimer. yes i put a disclaimer and i explain why.

Anyways, here is the first piece in what inevitably will become fandom info dump, this time on thomas astruc’s writing on miraculous ladybug. but only some of my opinions cuz we would be here all day otherwise.

So… a disclaimer before I begin… 

I do not hate Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir (yes i'm using their government name). I am quite a fan of the show actually despite its faults. I am also older than the intended audience but was obviously younger when the show first aired which is how my interest was piqued (the fact that its been 6 years and only 3 seasons says more about the show than me being a fan for that amount of time but also i never want to rush content creators cuz they're doing their best) and due to my age, there will be inherent bias in my approach of what i'm about to say as there is in EVERY opinion. The fact that it is an opinion should imply the presence of bias but most people tend to lack the critical thinking skills required to draw that conclusion ANYWAYS…

If I did hate the show I would not have this blog nor would I be even writing this because i tend to not give more than 2 seconds of thought to things i actively dislike (some of yall should give this a try) and i'm allowed to like things that are designed for an audience that i was originally a part of but grew out of. (I don't suddenly stop liking things because I'm older despite what many younger fans seem to believe about older audiences. I also don't need to be ‘allowed’ to do anything cuz i wasn't asking for permission anyways.)

This will not be character bashing, astruc bashing nor fandom bashing cuz, again, that would imply i hate any of those elements and if i did, i would not dedicate brainpower to them. Analyses and criticisms of media are fun and engaging and required if you wish to produce good enjoyable content. Now most of this should be already assumed and self-explanatory but people on the internet like to play morality roulette roll dice on purity culture and I rather have documentation that I am in fact not bullying fictional 14 year olds or a grown man. But alas, people get trigger happy whenever someone has less than 1000000% positive opinions on something they like and will throw out words they can't define (gaslight, baiting, toxic, problematic, gatekeep etc) in an attempt to defend their blind devotion, 

which is not needed, if you like something you never have to defend it, even if i don't like it. If you respond to anything I post saying you disagree with me, I will not argue with you. I won't debate back and forth and try to convince you that the things you like are wrong. Unless you are being absolutely tone deaf to what i'm saying, you wont get a negative reaction from me. So don't try to fish for a fight. Please. I got metaphorical hands for days and I'm mean, you don't want me hurting your feelings on the internet. Do yourself the favour. Difference of opinion is how we get diversification in media and is inherently a good thing. Now that that's out of the way, please don't ever let me have to say that again. I beg.

Now onto the fun stuff

I didn't know what I wanted as a first topic so my trusty internet friend @moonlitceleste suggested astruc’s writing… 

AND BOI do i got some opinions on ole tommy boi. Again I don't hate the dude. In fact, he has worked on a few shows that had defined my childhood, including but not limited to W.I.T.C.H. (all eps available on youtube for those interested, 2 seasons, general fun time all around).

So I don't think he’s scum of the earth but I do think his approach to writing mlb specifically has more misses than hits.

The first big miss is that he has no idea how to write 14 year old girls. At all. Almost every girl he has ever written feels like some terrible archetype built entirely for marketability and childish projection and pubescent self-insert (kind of). He has never been a 14 year old girl. I have. In fact when the show first aired, I WAS around the (assumed) age of the mlb characters. The behaviour he passes off as quirky or awkward or just the character’s genuine personality tend to perpetuate harmful stereotypes of teen girls found in the media and are never actually addressed as harmful. they just get swept under the rug. Marinette’s exuberant collage of teen heart throb model boi Adrien Agreste and her very painful almost fan worship she has of him (which flip flops like a paper sandal in the rain) being portrayed as a cute school girl crush uwu, Chloe being the y7 Regina George, Alya being the token best friend of colour with her ‘sassy’ personality (i want y'all to imagine me eyerolling so hard i bust a vessel in my eye), Kagami being the very damaging Perfect Asian Child stereotype. And before y'all get on your dusty soap box and defend going on about “BUT IT'S FOR CHILDREN”,,,, know this.

 i don’t give a solid fuck. 

Not one. 

Children arent stupid. Children are always going to remember the richy bitchy blonde who bullies the art kid, and the big kid, and the shy kid, and the non white kids, and was only nice to her equally rich white friend who she probably had a crush on or was only ever civil to her equally white lapdog. They're going to remember the half asian girl who was never allowed to actually be asian or the only black girl who existed solely as a soundboard for enabling bad habits or chastising the main character for the same habits she enables in the first place (boi aint THAT a topic for later). Like do i really need to explain that alya chastising marinette for taking max’s spot in gamer just to play with adrien rings absolutely hollow when she actively encourages her to sabotage the contest she’s in just so Kagami doesn't win?? Like I don't have to explain that right?? Again kids arent stupid and its quite something that Mari gets chastised for proving herself the best video game player regardless of her intentions just cuz it comes at the expense of max’s feelings/ego but is actively encouraged to sabotage not only kagami but herself by extension cuz kagami is ‘competition.’ Adrien is not a trophy to be won. And no I don't expect 14 yrs old to be perfect and to always make good decisions but these decisions are never addressed as being bad decisions. they get swept under the rug cuz those decisions were necessary for the ‘plot’ but astruc can barely keep characterization consistent and his characters suffer for it and it's the same children you preach are watching it that suffer as well. Cuz guess what? I KNOW 14 yr olds aren't like that cuz i've been there done that (this is the last time i'm saying that i promise) so I know astruc is just metaphorically throwing darts to figure out who says and does what without consideration for pre established personalities to drive the stalemate plot along. The same kids you say are watching this don't know that that's not how preteens work and will absorb and internalize those dynamics like baking soda and vinegar. Cata-fucking-strophically. 

And I haven't even gotten to the boys yet. Which honestly doesn't require much explanation anyways cuz they suffer the same fate as the girls. Tired archetypes with nothing to give them life. Nino falls into Adrien’s person of colour token best friend who dates the female lead’s person of colour token best friend so they can have cute double dates uwu. Except the plot goes nowhere and we have no inclination of romantic development beyond moments that only act to actively convince me to anti ship the lovesquare (i don't want to do that so i self indulge in fanon that actually cares about the characters and plot. may i interest you in True Sight on AO3?). Max is the residential nerd but it doesn't matter (cuz he and everyone are dumbed down for the sake of ‘plot’), kim is the sports jock (which interestingly subverts the asian comedic relief stereotype but only barely) and luka is cute older guy ™ that wears black nail polish and is in a band. The point of all this is to say there is no depth in the characters. It's especially blatantly obvious with the characters astruc doesn't like (chloe). Again, it being a show for kids is not an excuse to be absolved of putting effort into the characters you make.

This is one of the biggest misses astruc has. I haven't even gone into all the nuances of this particular miss. And i havent gone into how that works against him in the plot either. Mostly because the plot itself hasn't gone anywhere and partially because I wanted to go into the plot (or lack thereof) separately as its own miss. 

AND BOI is it a miss. 

SO home boy astruc wanted to reap the benefits of a serial show with ‘engaging’ plot without putting in any of the work to make a linear storyline and relying on the episodic format for, again, marketability. You can't have the best of both worlds, you are not Avatar: The Last Airbender. Which btw has a lot less episodes and a desired end goal that didn't involve top dollar. Legend of Korra did but that's not the point and it had its failings with that too. I challenge you, tell me how many episodes actually contribute towards a plot point or introduce new thematic elements to the show? Can you name them? I can and I'm going to include the plot points that moved the story in some direction if only temporarily. Yes only temporarily for some of these and i will explain later. (if you're in the server you already saw this list *wink*)

25/26. Origins- self explanatory, the beginning of the story, 

24. Volpina- introduction of the grimoire and Master Fu (kind of) and no, Lila is not a plot point,

28. The Collector- proper introduction of Master Fu,

37. Sapotis- introduction of Rena Rouge,

41. Syren- introduction of new aquatic power ups,

44. Anansi- introduction of Carapace,

47. Frozer- introduction of new ice power ups,

48/49. Style Queen- introduction of Queen Bee,

51/52. Heroes’ Day- introduction of Mayura and mass akumatization,

66. Startrain- introduction of Pegasus,

67. Kwami Buster- Marinette wears multiple miraculouses,

68. Feast- backstory as to how the miraculouses were lost,

69. Ikari Gozen- introduction of Ryuko,

70. Timetagger- introduction of Bunnyx,

71. Party Crasher- introduction of Roi Singe and Viperion,

73. Chat Blanc- alternate timeline that essentially means nothing but got a reaction out of fans anyways (myself included)

 77/78. Love Eater/Battle of Miraculous- Marinette becomes guardian and other heroes lose their miraculous,

New York Special- other heroes exist and there is an American miraculous box,

That's 21 episodes. 21 out of a heaping 78 plus 2 specials. Everything else was just your typical akuma of the day episode and everything that happened outside that had no lasting consequences on the plot thanks to the miraculous status quo. Was it entertaining to watch Lila stir the plot of the class dynamic? Hell yeah. Too bad it meant nothing by the end of the episode cuz we were struck with miraculous status quo. She literally doesn't appear again until Heroes Day. that is from episodes 25 all the way to 51, she means nothing and yet she is treated with the severity of a b-villain/rival thing. She means nothing by the end of Volpina if I'm being honest. She is only relevant for 20 mins of episode time she’s in then it's back to magic status quo that undoes any shift in dynamics and relationships. It's like Spongebob who can't get his driver’s license. The worst part is I actually like Lila and I wish the story treated her with the seriousness we as an audience are expected to treat her with. Despite being painfully inconsequential by the end of each of the 3?? 4?? episodes she’s in, it's entertaining to watch a character create drama just because. 

Too bad it means nothing.

Astruc is constantly building up suspense to something ‘important’ only for it to not deliver and fans are constantly having the rug pulled out from under us. Oblivio teased us with a reveal only that gets undone cuz memory akuma. Chat Blanc teased us with romantic development but that gets undone cuz time travel bullshit. Feast introduced more miraculous lore and the history of the guardians but that means nothing by the next episode or ever (i'm not including any reference to the season 4 trailer cuz i've been around the block a few times and im familiar with this lil dancy dance). Heroes Day teased us with a possible future team of heroes but that gets undone in Battle of Miraculous cuz ????? why?? (here's why; astruc was having a jolly ole time letting us know how irredeemable Chloe is at the expense of shooting his own stagnant plot in the foot. Again, discussion for later.)

Too bad anything that slightly swerves off course from the akuma of the day gets undone or ignored. Too bad nothing has any lasting consequence. I mean, if anything did, the episodes would have had a consistent order and release schedule so im not scrambling to watch the leaked ep in Portuguese or something while the french dub is two episodes behind while the english version hasnt even been dubbed. I really wonder how he plans to conclude the show when he’s so afraid to step out of the corner he painted himself in.

Again, not going into nuances. If you want you can ask for more specifics (i doubt anyone would) but this is really just a slightly detailed general overview of my opinions on astruc’s writing. 

I was going to include another miss in his approach to this show but imma save that for another time. 

How’s that for a ‘first’ post?

[missnight0wl]

About plot changes due to theories: it's actually super common and a dated practice: WandaVision, GOT, Westworld, Lost, and even STAR TREK. A more specific example would be back in early '90s (1990s!!), DC Comics changed the villain of a story because the foreshadowing was so obvious that people immediately guessed correctly and they wanted to do a plot twist so badly. And there are just examples off the top of my head. Twitter and FB are also rather active spaces for speculations.

All right, let’s go through it in order.

WandaVision. I actually thought about this one, but when I dug a bit more, it seems that most changes had everything to do with COVID and not fan theories. Also, there were originally supposed to be 10 episodes, not nine, and I don’t think that subverting expectations had much to do with that. I found one Reddit thread saying that they allegedly were planning to confirm that the engineer Monica mentioned in one episode was in fact Reed Richards, and they scrapped it because of fan theories – but there was no source or anything.

I recommend checking this article in that matter. Yes, it says: “WandaVision Director Says a Couple Popular Fan Theories Were Correct Until Last-Minute Changes”, but still, those changes weren’t really made to debunk fan theories. WandaVision had a pretty difficult situation in general. Apparently, it also wasn’t supposed to be the first Marvel series on Disney +. This is something the YouTube channel NewRockstars talked about, and I actually think it makes a lot of sense. Namely, WandaVision was given us after a long break when we were hungry for Marvel content, and the creators probably weren’t expecting that we’d look this deep into everything. I think it’s worth keeping it in mind.

Finally, WandaVision is also a great example of “embracing” fan theories. Pretty much everyone predicted Agatha Harkness plot twist. Was it disappointing because of that? No. Most people loved it because it was executed so well.

GoT. Yeah, I guess it’s the most popular example of a bad way of subverting expectations – that’s why I mentioned it already in my previous post. But even here I have mixed feelings. Because I feel that most people here think mostly about Daenerys – and I strongly disagree with that. Dany going mad was probably the best part of that finale, and it makes perfect sense for her character overall. Was it poorly executed? Absolutely. But I still don’t think it qualifies as “subverting expectations”.

Of course, I do think that that final season was a hot mess in general. Jamie’s plotline? Yeah, I can totally see it being as “subverting expectations”. Arya killing the Night King? I mean, I’m personally not mad about it. I’ve also seen the creators claiming that it was planned for quite some time. Obviously, they might be lying, but still. Bran ending on the Iron Throne? Meh.

I dunno. As I said, I have mixed feelings.

Westworld. This is another example I found myself, and apparently, Nolan said it about season 2, but… I have a pretty complicated relationship with this show. Let’s talk about season 1, so I could explain it.

So, season 1 of Westworld was great. The thing is that since the very first episode, everyone and their mother theorised that William is gonna be the Man in Black. What happened at the end of season 1? It turned out that William is the Man in Black. So, if Nolan is really so concerned about fans predicting his plot, why he didn’t change that? Especially that William being the MiB makes no freaking sense! I’m gonna die on the hill that the MiB should’ve been Logan, and William probably should’ve died in the park. It’d be a much more compelling story, and Nolan would have a great plot twist – because as I said, everyone was speculating about William for the whole freaking season.

So, again, I don’t know. It’s kind of hard for me to even believe that Nolan wanted to change anything because of fan theories when he left “the big reveal” about William - which wasn’t a surprise for anyone.

I never got into Lost or Star Trek, so I’m not gonna comment on that. I also didn’t find much about the comics you’re talking about. I don’t want to undermine this information, but could you tell me maybe if it’s something that the creators admitted officially themselves? Because here’s my problem with that whole phenomenon: I can’t help but wonder whether the creators really change things because of fan theories or it’s what we want to believe because we like fan theories better than what the creators actually came up with. You know what I mean? I feel like it’s such a difficult thing to verify, too, because creators might lie about their process. Maybe they changed their original idea to subvert expectations, but maybe their original idea simply wasn’t that good, to begin with. The audience can and will see your story differently, and they might think that it could’ve been taken in a better direction. That’s a big reason why fandoms exist.

[elsanna-shenanigans]

April Contest Submission #9: Shocking Confessions

Words: ca. 5,000 Setting: Modern AU with powers Lemon: No CW: Kinda angst, hospitals, anxiety

Soft gentle hands gently tug at the fashioned twin braids of Anna’s hair, slowly turning them into a frizzy mess. For how cold her sister often was, the kiss was hot, passionate. All her deepest desires all poured into one place. For several minutes, it felt like they were both lost in the empty blackness of space, holding tight to each other so they wouldn’t drift apart again. Then something starts to build within the nerves of Anna’s being. Something searing hot that burned through her blood and brought tears to her eyes. 

Her body jolts with the electric currents, waking her from this trance. Anna’s head slams into the metal machinery above her head, the only conductor this electricity needed to infect everything else. As she shouts her pain and falls back to the base of this machine, the power and lights flicker, then go out completely. Heart beating extremely fast after the dream she just had, Anna stares at the screen above her head. A dim blue light shone on it, produced from her own eyes.

“Anna?! Anna, are you alright?!” Elsa’s voice broke the silence in this small room just as her flashlight pierced the darkness. Momentary relief washes over Anna, before remembering why she was here. What would she say to them? Dreams like that were meant to stay out of this place and in her own bed only, but it wasn’t like she could control it. Continuing to lie about them would make so many dents in the progress they were trying to make. Controlling these abilities used to be so much easier…

“Y- yeah, I’m okay.” She could hear the sigh of relief from Elsa.

“Thank god. You shorted out all the power in the hospital again. At least this time they know how to get it back online quicker. You’re still going to have to crawl out from inside there.” With a dismayed sigh of her own, Anna carefully rolls herself over onto her stomach so she could try pulling herself through the small gap at the end of the cylindrical machine. Just like last time, Elsa was there to catch her arms and pull her out. This time though, the blonde holds Anna tight in a hug. She could feel the older woman’s heartbeat going very fast.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, baby…” A pale gentle hand strokes the back of Anna’s head, which normally would’ve been a soothing gesture for her had the dream not happened. Not wanting the flashbacks for fear of accidentally shocking her sister, she pushes herself away. “What is it? What made this happen again?”

“Just another nightmare.”

“Anna, you know you can’t be that vague. We need to know what’s haunting your mind. We need to know why your powers are responding to it like they are! It’s for your, and everyone else’s, safety. That’s why we’re doing this in the first place, remember?” Desperately searching on loose strings for an excuse, Anna holds her arms tight over her chest, hoping that the constriction would calm her down. 

“I- I just need a moment, okay?” Her anxiety was plain as day in her voice. Elsa once again reaches towards her with her free hand, but Anna flinches away. In seeing the hurt on her sister’s face from the motion, the ginger gives a defeated sigh and moves into the careful embrace. This time, Elsa wouldn’t make any rash movements, just hold the girl.

“Fine, but you have to tell me within the hour, otherwise I know you’ll forget.” An hour was probably enough time to think of something, but Anna wanted so bad to confess. This secret had dragged her down for about a couple years, wasting too much research and money. She knew Elsa was terribly worried for her, too. It was just… a terrifying subject to bring up. There was no way to know how her sister would respond to it. “Anna?” 

“Yeah, I will, I promise. Can we… go to the place?” Elsa seems a bit hesitant to reply, but does so just as the lights flicker on again. 

“Yes, just as soon as we get the results.” The machine behind Anna starts to whirr back to life and Elsa quickly leans forward to turn it off. She was one of the employees here at the hospital, and the reason they were able to afford this kind of thing in the first place. It was a different kind of place than you’d normally imagine a hospital to be, but it still helped people. It just specialized in helping a certain strange kind of people. A long slip of paper buzzes out from a slot in the machine that Elsa takes and looks over while Anna continues hugging the taller woman. When the only response to her findings was a hum, the ginger curiously tries to look at the slip of paper, only for Elsa to raise it above her eye level. “Looks like you’ve started sleep talking now, too.”

“Wait what?!” Panicking over this idea, Anna reaches up to grab the slip and pull it out of Elsa’s grasp. However, all that was on it was her heart rate over the course of time she was asleep and other squiggle lines she didn’t understand the meaning of.

“Hey!” Elsa takes it back with a glare.

“Sleep talking? How could you tell? All that shows is my heart rate.”

“You think I don’t know that? There’s a microphone on the machine. There used to be a soundproof sealing on the end in case the patient would scream during testing. Of course, we would immediately shut down the test, but we couldn’t have screams echoing down the hallway.”

“Oh. How come it’s gone?” Elsa finally turns off her flashlight and clips it to her bluejeans, her gaze still looking at the piece of paper more so to likely avoid looking at Anna. 

“Well, with the fear of power outages, we found it would be too easy for patients to get stuck and suffocate. For those who need the containment, they have backup generators in their rooms, but you don’t require such concealment.” Guilt crawls into Anna’s chest, ruining any appetite she had. She couldn’t keep doing this. It was harming others needlessly, not to mention costing the building far more money for the generators. Today, she had to tell her sister what was really going on, no matter the suffering she would have to endure. A lifelong friendship with her big sister ruined by a single sentence.

“I’m sorry.” Folding the paper and stuffing it into her pocket, Elsa reaches down and takes Anna’s hand.

“It isn’t your fault, Anna. We can only blame our parents for not letting you get the help you needed. Besides, the weather can be unpredictable sometimes.”

“But I was doing so well with them! Until… Until…” With her other hand, Anna wipes away the tears trying to glaze her eyes. “They didn’t want people to experiment on me.”

“No one is experimenting on you!” It sounds like it takes a lot for Elsa to say that without a growl. Anna should’ve known better than to bring up something their parents and Elsa argued about so often. “We are observing and working on finding solutions for the problem.”

“Right..” She almost apologized again, but restrained from doing so, so Elsa wouldn’t feel worse about yelling than Anna already knew she did. The blonde’s arm wraps around Anna’s shoulders as she leads her to the door and out into the bright white hallway. This place had the makings of an asylum, with the twist of actually helping people get better and letting them leave. Some patients just took a little longer than others and had no family or home to go back to, so they stayed, but Anna has Elsa.

“Hey, I have something for you.” After getting into the car, Anna curiously looks over to Elsa, who held up a KitKat bar. Instantly, a smile grew over Anna’s face, always taken by the candy bar. When Anna takes and unwraps it, she breaks off the two pieces from each other and offers the other one to her big sister, just like always. It was like a short little break they could share together despite the trials of this stressful everyday life. The break was less the candybar and more being able to take a small moment with Elsa. Without disappointment, Elsa accepts the other half and bites into it before starting the car. Somehow, the blonde never failed to have one after every stressful occasion. Even on the day of their parent’s unexpected demise, they shared the solemn binding treat. Anna knew that Elsa suspected their death was the reason Anna kept having nightmares, but that obviously couldn’t be true. However, after that day, the two had become more inseparable. When they didn’t have to be away from each other, they did everything together. So, in a way, their parent’s death was definitely a contributing factor. Because Elsa had a financially stable career and Anna had just become an adult, the ginger had moved in with her sister, with only one requirement: that Anna had to forgo observation over her abilities.

A half hour later into their drive and they had finally made it to the river trail that Anna loved so much. There was something about how the air just felt much more peaceful and crisp to her senses. Maybe it was just because she had been cramped in a tiny space and a tiny room for so long, but the freedom was amazing. Despite the warm summer weather, they found no one on the trail as they trekked through the dirt path. Not that Anna would mind. As long as she had her sister, she would always be perfectly content, even if the blonde was a little overprotective and made her at least wear a jacket against the sun’s rays. Sure, she thought about maybe getting friends outside of family, even a girlfriend to try and rid herself of the romantic lust she held for her sister, but no one was worth her time the same way. Friends after school just didn’t seem to stick to her. Besides, she wanted to believe Elsa needed her just as much as Anna felt she needed Elsa.

The river was loud as they approached, rushing against its rocky bank. A large stretch of grass separated the trees from the water, bathed in warm sunlight that looked more than welcoming to sit in. So, they did. It was a wonder why such a loud spot would be so calming, but Anna liked to listen to it like music. Just another way to drown out the nervous thoughts in her head. Elsa said she enjoyed sitting near it as well, but she always wore such a sad expression whenever they did. Today was no different. Her big sister watched the water with a glassy blue gaze, somehow still stunning when looking so depressed. 

“Elsa?”

“Hm?”

“I think I’m ready to tell you.” Anna’s gut twisted with her anxiety and guilt, only getting worse when Elsa looks up at her. Now that she had the blonde’s undivided attention, her voice seemed to die in her throat.

“Take your time. Don’t forget to breathe. In three, out four.” Nodding, Anna takes a deep breath and then slowly lets it out. This wasn’t the first time she tried to tell Elsa the truth. Except, every other time, she chickened out and went with the most believable excuse she could come up with.

“It’s you,” she quickly confesses. So quickly, in fact, that Elsa doesn’t react for another few moments.

“What?”

“You.”

“Me? What about me?” Elsa seemed completely confused, which was to be expected.

“Would it make more sense to say it wasn’t actually a nightmare?”

“Oh… Oh!!” The blonde exclaims, her eyes wide with what could have been surprise, but looked more like the face of someone who found the answer to an impossible puzzle. Slowly, she reaches into her pocket to retrieve the slip of paper. “Wait…” Squinting as she stares, Elsa’s face gave away that she was trying really hard to think of something to say, probably a scientific explanation to try and resolve any awkwardness. “Well, if this is the first time it has happened, then it obviously doesn’t really mean anything, so-”

“It isn’t.” Anna cuts off, her teeth buried into her lip while she fidgets with her hands. Afraid of what she might see, her gaze avoids Elsa’s. The silence that followed was due to Anna being too ashamed to explain any further and Elsa searching for the right thing to respond with. What the hell would be the right thing to say in this scenario? Was this it? Were they going to forget about the whole thing and stop the tests? Write it off as insignificant and keep living their lives? That had to be the best case scenario. The worst would be Elsa separating herself from Anna in order to try and help her.

“Why?” Was not the answer she expected. Perhaps the one she should have though. For the first time in a really long time, Elsa’s powers finally show itself. Ice creeps along the grass from under the blonde’s hand on the ground, the other still holding the slip of paper very tightly. Worry and dismay grows in Anna’s chest, afraid this was a huge mistake. There was no taking it back now.

“I… Elsa, why would I know? Do you think I would have asked for these feelings?”

“I was asking about the dreams, but uh.. now it’s a pretty clear answer.” Face flushing in embarrassment, Anna shoots a glare at her sister, only to get a nervous kind smile in return. Elsa’s smile made it practically impossible to be mad at her, but if Anna wasn’t going to be mad, she could feel the sadness creeping into her eyes. A hopeless sensation that started happening that night when they got the call. Likely depression, but Anna refused to let her sister take her to get any real diagnosis. To her, medication wasn’t a solution, and therapy would only keep her away from Elsa longer- who she viewed to be the only form of medicine needed. She could tell Elsa carried something from that night as well. Elsa would hesitate to pick up her cellphone when it rang every time, very unlike the quick precise person she was. At work, she made no such hesitation. “So, how long have you been lying to me, Anna?” The question pulls Anna back to reality, where she was sitting here in the middle of the forest confessing to her big sister. Oh god, what had she been thinking…

“I prefer to call it ‘strategically avoiding an awkward conversation’. Lying to you sounds bad.”

“Anna, I’ve been so worried about you. I thought things were haunting you.”

“Things are haunting me! Sort of. Just… not monstrous things. More like illegal things, like tax evasion.” Elsa had the audacity to laugh.

“Incestuous feelings, you mean.” When Anna refuses to look at Elsa again, she brings herself closer to the ginger and wraps an arm around her. Anna groans and drops her head in her hands, leaving Elsa to semi-awkwardly rub her back with a hand. “Just out of curiosity, when did these… uhm.. When did this start?”

“Mhh hard to say,” she lies, her face feeling very hot from embarrassment. “Maybe 2 years ago.”

“2 years ago?! Anna, what the fuck?!” 

“I thought it would go away! You know, like a normal crush!” It was unlike Elsa to swear, but maybe this situation could warrant nothing other than profanities. “Does it even matter? Like- truly? I’m practically over it anyways, which is why I decided to tell you now.”

“Oh really? Does someone who’s over said crush have such…” Elsa seems to wrestle with the words for a moment before choking them out, “intense dreams that end up wiping out all power in that large ass facility? You must have been feeling something! If it wasn’t fear then it had to have been…” she trails off, suddenly feeling too embarrassed herself now to say it.

“Would you believe me if I said yes?”

“No!”

“Oh, so just cause you’re a scientist, you suddenly know everything about emotions?” Anna watches Elsa now, whose face was a mix of panic and something else. 

“Well, I don’t know everything, but I have a decent idea about the chemicals and reasons for certain reactions.” Rolling her eyes, Anna scoffs at her sister’s claim. Of course, always with the logic with her. Unfortunately for the scientist, Anna wasn’t willing to reason with her logic, or the chemicals she claimed.

“If that’s true, why don’t you explain this then?”

“Explain what, specifically?”

“How on earth I’m attracted to you!”

“I would sound like a narcissist if I did…”

“Do it for your precious science.” Her glare found Elsa’s uncertain gaze, where they shared a moment of silence. Well, as much silence as you could get while near the river.

“Fine. In theory, romantic feelings could be aroused by looks or certain personality quirks. Or, all of that could go out the window when it comes to a stranger, or even someone you care about, touching you in a different way.” It seemed to make Elsa incredibly nervous to talk about this, stumbling a bit on the words and going back on them to reiterate. Anna didn’t even know why she wanted her to explain it. Maybe because her older sister seemed so confident with her reasoning and staying calm rather than actually feeling things herself, and acting rather than thinking for once. Yeah, that was probably it.

“Touching in what way?” Struggling not to smirk as she asks it, Elsa finally returns the glare.

“Not the kind you’re thinking about.”

“How do you know, smarty-pants?” Suddenly, Anna found Elsa’s hand at her waist. It stayed for merely a moment before disappearing and reappearing on Anna’s thigh instead.

“Touches like that. Certain nerves that are for the ‘lover’s interest’.” Then her hand falls back into her lap and Anna could finally let out the breath she held. However, it didn’t escape her how Elsa could have simply said these things instead of demonstrating. The ginger’s eyes now try to maintain eye contact with Elsa’s, but the blonde unfortunately seems far more interested in keeping them on the grass. “However, it’s completely determined on the relationship you share with that person or whether your brain already finds them attractive visually. As sisters, we are extremely close with each other, and neither of us go out to see many other people unless it’s at work.”

“Yeah, but you’re my sister, so this logic is complete bullshit.” Anna says, matter-of-factly.

“M-most sisters probably aren’t as close on a daily basis as we are. Among already living together, dining out together, and not already seeing other people, my coworkers have already asked if you were my girlfriend. I think not sleeping in the same bedroom and making out with each other are the only things that divide the line between us being sisters or a couple.”

“Why are you defending my feelings for you?” Suddenly taken aback by her sister’s surprisingly quickly executed rebuttal, Anna stares at Elsa with wide eyes. This was not at all what she expected this confession to be like. Though, it may still end very horribly…  Knowing Elsa and how little she judged a person, she must be very conflicted. “Excuse me for a moment.” Needing a break from this conversation, Anna gets to her feet and quickly walks back towards the trees. Within the forestry, the ginger stops herself at a place she was sure she could find her way back to where she had left Elsa. The sound of the river was still very close, but muffled enough that she could think and try to calm herself down. 

When hugging her arms over her chest and leaning back into a tree, Anna could feel something in her left boob pocket. It crinkled and pressed awkwardly against her chest. Slowly unwrapping her arms, she curiously reaches into the pocket to retrieve that familiar red wrapper in its technically trapezoid shape because of the candy within. Despite it basically being her comfort food, Anna never bought it for herself. The candy was just something Elsa liked to get her once being able to pay for things on her own. If she were being honest, she didn’t even like them much at first, but anything from her sister was everything to her, even at 8 years old. How had the years quickly escaped them both? 

Anna easily tears the wrapper, leaving the double chocolate bars in the palm of her hand, so she could tuck the wrapper back into her denim pocket. Then, being careful not to drop either piece, she snaps the two from each other. Sure, at the moment, there was no Elsa to share it with, and the thought of enjoying both bars sounded sad, but this had clearly been put in her pocket deliberately. Elsa probably wanted Anna to eat it when she needed to think of sweet wonderful times with her big sister. Though, after confessing her romantic love for Elsa, that thought made her feel kind of ill. Regardless, she had already removed the wrapper and wasn’t about to let the candy go to waste.

“Wow. Already breaking off your KitKats without me now? Might as well make it official and move out.” At the sudden sound of Elsa’s voice, Anna jumps in surprise, almost dropping the chocolate. The older woman had apparently been summoned by the snapping of a KitKat..

“Jeez Elsa, you scared me!” Out of habit, she offers the other bar to Elsa while biting into her own. The blonde doesn’t hesitate to take it and join her sister leaning against the tree. Anna knew Elsa was just kidding about the moving out thing, but she started considering it. Not living in the same house as her sister would make her feelings easier to abolish, wouldn’t it? “Yknow, maybe I should.”

“What? Anna, I was joking.”

“I know, but I’m not.” There was a new tense kind of silence, like Elsa was holding back from saying something. 

“That’s ridiculous! There’s no reason to. No, you don’t need to move out. It would just complicate everything. Unnecessary. Besides, with your financial stability right now, and the way your ability is acting up, it’s just… well, a wildly horrible decision. As your big sister, I really suggest you stop thinking about the idea altogether, e- even after you get that… financial stability.” Ah, there it was. Highly suspicious that Elsa wanted to keep her so close. Or was it? Damn, it’s so hard to know when trying to read her sister. Sometimes it was like Elsa felt the same, and other times it was like she was reading all the signals completely wrong. Such a frustrating way to live.

“No reason to? Elsa, I-”

“I know, but that doesn’t matter! I don’t want to lose you!”

“Then why did you hesitate to decide that?”

“Anna!” With an exasperated groan, Elsa pushes herself off the tree to face Anna with a furious expression. “Why are you making this so difficult for us both?”

“Because I’m afraid to admit that you’re right! Right about everything! Because this is wrong! Everything about it is wrong! I shouldn’t feel this way, but I know exactly why I do. You care about me like no one else does. You hold me like I’m the last person you ever want to let go. You know everything about me! I don’t go out to make friends, because you’re the only person I ever want to be around. You’re everything to me!” Her walls were breaking, falling apart like a KitKat bar that you’d left in your pocket for too long, thankfully unlike the one she had discovered. Before she even knew she was crying, cold fingers were gently wiping away her tears. “And here you are, keeping me close to you when I just want to make this better for you for once!” Once again, the silence carries on for several moments too long. Part of Anna wanted Elsa to finally be disgusted and tell her to be better, to get rid of these foolish feelings so she might actually be able to, but that’s not what happened. Instead, Elsa’s response was to press a very soft kiss to Anna’s forehead, and then her tear stained cheek, and finally… her quivering lips. Elsa’s hand cradles Anna’s face, her other hand resting over the one Anna had against the tree. This moment must’ve lasted for several seconds, but to Anna, it only existed for the fragment of a second. Far too short to register what was going on.

When it was over, it was almost like nothing had happened. No loud explosions or confetti. Only the loud noise of water hitting rock over and over again. Anna dazedly stares at her sister, absolutely shocked by this turn of events, despite her earlier suspicions. Elsa seemed not to know what to say either, likely worried she had made a horrible decision by the look on her face. Finally, the ginger let out her breath, a rather familiar sensation roaming her body. Was this another dream? Eager not to lose this chance, she leans towards Elsa, only for the blonde to fall away with a gasp.

“Ow!!!” Elsa stares at her hand, a burn spot on the back with light grey smoke drifting from it. Quickly, the older woman sprints back to the river, where she could submerge her burned hand under the freezing surface. Anna chases after her in a panic.

“Elsa! Oh god, I’m so sorry!” Definitely not a dream. Watching Elsa take one deep breath after the other, it was evident by the frustration on her face how badly she was trying to stop herself from cussing.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Elsa hisses out. “At least now we have actual answers that we can start working with. Damn it, Anna. 2 years…” Worried about her sister, but afraid to get too close to her again, Anna crouches down a foot or so away.

“I know, I know, I- Wait, are we just not going to talk about you kissing me?”

“Why would we? Didn’t seem like you minded all that much. Unless that’s the reason you zapped my hand.”

“No! No, I didn’t mean to. Why would we-?! We would talk about it, because it was absurd and illegal and amazing and… and..!” Thinking about it brought a wave of mixed feelings upon Anna, mainly of astounded confusion. Though all it brought to Elsa was another smile to watch the blush on Anna’s face grow. “Don’t laugh, this is serious!”

“I’m not laughing. I just love watching you slowly register things. Like when it took you 2 years to realize I love you, too.”

“Y- you what? I mean, of course you do. We’re sisters, of course you love me. Th- this is different.”

“Alright, I take it back. 2 years and… I’ll give this a week, because I’m generous.” Offended, Anna didn’t think twice before pushing Elsa. Of course, the blonde just had to lose her balance and fall forward into the river. The current swept her away before she could bob to the surface, but luckily, a couple of rocks stopped her from getting too far downstream. 

“Elsa!!!” Anna’s spontaneous nature told her to jump in after her sister, but with how unpredictable her powers were becoming, she might as well just be a damn toaster. So, instead, she stood at the edge panicking.

“I’m fine! Just stay there!” Elsa shouts over the water. Using her own ability, she creates a solid wall of ice against the water. The object had enough force to throw the water back onto itself and start to rise up the river edges very quickly, but it also gave Elsa a short amount of time to battle against no current and to get back to the edge. Instantly, Anna crouches down and extends her hand out to her sister, who just barely manages to take it before letting the wall fall. Water crashes over them both in a powerful cascade, Anna holding tight to Elsa’s arm with both hands while trying to pull her up onto the grass. Only when Elsa gets her other hand up to solid ground was she able to pull herself over, Anna then dragging her away from the water. 

“Elsa, I’m so sorry. I’m such a disaster. Please, I’ll find a way to make today up to you.” Elsa just gives a small groan, her eyes slipping closed for a moment. Anna feared the worst despite knowing her sister better than that. 

“There’s only one way I’ll let you make this up to me.” Elsa’s voice was almost too quiet to hear, clearly exhausted.

 “Anything!”

“Continue breaking your KitKats with me and… don’t ever stop loving me the way you do.” Hesitating, Anna stares down at Elsa’s tired face until she finally opens her gorgeous blue eyes again.

“Elsa, are you sure?” Her sister gives a tired nod. “Okay.” While still being very confused by this turn of events, she would still do anything for Elsa. 

“Say it.. Out loud.” Elsa specifies, her eyes staring deep into Anna’s. It made the ginger’s heart beat hard against her chest, like Elsa was asking her to recite an oath instead of a simple request. So full of emotion and desperation… 

“Elsa…”

“Please. You’re my everything, too, Anna.” Elsa’s voice suddenly sounded very broken and weak, like she was about to start crying. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.” A small smile teases the edges of Anna’s lips. Of anything to come from confessing, relief was not something she expected. Her hand gently pushes back wet strands of platinum hair from Elsa’s face before softly caressing her sister’s cheek.

“I promise to always share my KitKats with you, and I promise to never stop loving you the way I do right now. Unconditionally and completely.” Elsa’s mouth grew into a relieved smile, her eyes slipping closed again as Anna took this opportunity to finally get the embrace she dreamed so often about.

[aaetherius]

Get To Know The Writer!

———  BASICS! ♡

(PEN)NAME: Noise

PRONOUNS: They / Them 

ZODIAC SIGN: Virg.o

TAKEN OR SINGLE: I am a single parent to a gremlin cat. I also have a dog and another cat, but when do I ever talk about them sorry my fur children I should not have a favorite, but I do.

———  THREE  FACTS! ♡

I am fairly/decently tattooed (verging on heavily tattooed, I think most would argue)? I think that’s something most people don’t know or assume about me (unless you’ve seen me, then, of course, it’s the first thing everyone notices). I have a lot of tattoos so I won’t describe/go over all of them (most of them are nerdy though). But the most obvious/largest one I have is my full sleeve (entire left arm), and that one is of Ok.ami! My favorite one, though, is on my thigh because I’m biased, and it’s a decently sized heart with a scene from K.iki’s Delivery service in it/things that reference it, but Lily and Jiji (the cats from Kiki’s) are colored/drawn as my two cats instead (their names are Elise and Bella and I love them very much gfheudhg)! And my most recent one is a pretty large Sailor Moo.n (Luna) inspired one on my calf (I got it done, unintentionally, like the day before we went into lockdown here and I still think about how that’s the last time I left my house other than to walk the dog and for the essentials, obviously dshjgjfy).  

A lot of you know this already, but I sew/know how to sew (largely self taught)! I mainly do cosplay stuff for myself now, and sometimes make cosplays for friends (if I love them enough ghufdihrudk). But there was a period of my life where I was doing it professionally/as a job. I had my own business, and used to make and sell plushies (mainly at conventions, and would do several conventions in a year. Free fun fact from that, but my best con was actually in Canada, of which I am not from nor do I live in, but because of that I have a business license/Tax number in Canada. Used to get invites to events in Canada all of the time and I had to tell them I don’t live there gfudrkugfgrfdr)! 

This is so very difficult. I’m out of facts and trying to come up with things you guys don’t already know ifdshliuf. Uhhhhh, on the more personal side/less fun side I guess, but I was on a learning plan (I honestly forget the actual term for it - basically it’s for when you struggle with a certain subject and have to take extra classes for it or are given accommodations for it because it’s difficult for you) throughout most of school/prior to college for - writing, actually (believe it or not gifdljhgkgrt)! I was often told how terrible I was at it/that I would never get better at it because the school system can be awful, but I enjoyed it, and was a very stubborn child so I kept at it anyway! Eventually I was taken off of it in high school entirely because of my own efforts. So, I just want to say: never let people tell you that you’re incapable of something/can’t do something/don’t let people bring you down! If you love something, and get enjoyment out of it, you should do it regardless of what others think/believe! And be kind/supportive to creatives (including yourself - so very much including yourself, you’re wonderful and deserving of respect and praise for doing what you do). It can take so much courage to write or draw or sew or sculpt a single thing (and you should be proud of that thing, even if it doesn’t live up to what you wanted, because what really matters is that you had the courage to do it at all)! There’s often so much going on behind the scenes that you’re not aware of, and you never know where, when, or how someone started off in something (so even if something seems easy for someone now, it likely wasn’t when they started and still might not be)!  

———  EXPERIENCE! ♡

I can’t recall when I started role-playing exactly (I’ve been writing, in general, since I could hold a pen). It’s been years, but I started with OCs on forums and with friends (in high school I had a group of friends that I would trade around a physical notebook with where we would write replies - one time, for a friend’s birthday, I had owed them a reply for a really long time, so we wrapped it up and them put it in five or so boxes, all of which were also wrapped, and gave it to them. It was a good time haha. Gosh I’m so old). Before eventually moving to tumblr. Most of my older/oldest OCs are still around on my general multi (August being the oldest, but a decent chunk of the OCs on that blog are pretty old). The first canon character I wrote was, I believe, Steven St.one from P.okemon. As far as Lucifer is concerned, I’m a few days away from this blog being seven months old!

———  MUSE  PREFERENCE! ♡

I’m not quite certain what my preference is to be honest! I enjoy writing both OCs and canon characters. I tend to favor characters I’m more emotionally invested in since I tend to be on the shy/more withdrawn side of things so it’s easier for me to interact with others/reach out to others when I’m more invested in a muse! A lot of it can depend on my mood as well, certain characters are easier for me to write depending on how I’m feeling ( but there are muses I find easy to write regardless of how I’m doing). And how comfortable I feel with/on my dash also plays a fairly decent role in my preference, as well! And I enjoy running both single and multi-muse blogs, though most of my blogs are multis (but having a single muse blog is so nice). As far as archetypes go, I think I don’t favor one as much as I used to, but I still write a lot of white-haired muses haha. As far as gender goes, I tend to write male identifying muses most often.        

———  FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡    

FLUFF: I love and adore all things soft. Obviously it’s easier with certain muses than others (Lucifer lends himself well to fluff, but I have muses, like L.ucilius, who do not). I’m always down to write fluffy things, and very much enjoy it! I like and favor happy/soft content! I like seeing muses get closer, and living their lives and I’m always excited to see characters happy/finding out what they enjoy/spending time with others and learning about them/letting characters live their lives (especially in Lucifer’s case because, well, you know haha. If Cy.games won’t let him be happy I will simply have to do it myself).

ANGST: I like angst to a certain extent. I’m not into super heavy angst that has a bad/unhappy outcome, and doesn’t serve much of a purpose beyond being angsty. But angst that allows characters to develop is wonderful, and expected. And I love the recovery period. Writing muses addressing and living with their actions or learning how to cope with them - how their past or how what’s happened impacts their day to day lives and how they think/what bothers them/their actions/how it becomes a part of them, and what it takes for them to grow. Or how it deepens their relationship with another, and the comfort that comes with it. I enjoy angst that has a happy/meaningful ending. 

SMUT: It tends to be very case-by-case by with me. I may write it with certain muses (of mine) and not with others. I may be open to writing it with certain ship partners, and not with others, as well. I will/can write it, but it depends on my comfort level (and it is by no means a deal breaker if you chose to write or not write it). Generally speaking, it largely depends on how comfortable I am with the mun I’m writing with, and with my own muse that’s involved. So I might write it from time to time/it could come up, and there might be other times where I’m not comfortable/confident (and fading to black/time skipping is also a-okay with me, especially if you’re interested in exploring the aftermath/comfort that follows it, but not actually writing the smut part of that out). Though, keep in mind, when it comes to actually writing it out on my end, I’m more invested and interested in the emotional aspect that intimacy tends to bring with it/how it impacts the relationship (before, during, and after), and that does tend to be what I focus on when I write it (because I just find that part of it interesting to explore because my favorite things to write are character and relationship development). So, long story short, I’m selective with it.

PLOT / MEMES: Both are good! You’re always welcome to turn an ask or meme into a thread, and I find that it’s easier to start threads through asks/memes than it is through starters/a starter call so I very much enjoy them! But plotting is also nice, and I enjoy it! Sometimes, though, I have a million ideas, and it goes super well, and other times my head is completely empty and I have no thoughts whatsoever. But plotting also tends to make writing a starter/interacting easier, and also leads to interesting threads! So, I’m open to both!

tagged by: @cirocchio (thank you)!

tagging ( if you want to do this, but no pressure if you don’t! ): @cxffexngel, @anamnaesis, @hartblooms, @shymaidxn, @unladylikc, @whisperonn, @dcpraved, @synnthos, @caelumsaltator, @againthemartyr, @eternalwhite!

[jyndor]

(Imperialism etc anon) Ok I get where you're coming from! Thank you for being understanding. While Zutara is obviously not inherently racist or anything there are zutara interpretations that *are* racist (example: fire lady katara which I can get into) and it does need to be acknowledged that Zuko's status as fire nation royalty does create a power imbalance between him and Katara. Now, this is a conversation that has a lot of nuance to it but it seems like the people harassing you are (1/2)

(2/2) just repeating some genuine critique they saw without understanding what it means just to say that they're right, harassing people in the process. I did not have that context when sending that first ask and I apologize, since anons harassing you and others are clearly doing it out of bad faith. I just didn't like the leveraging of concepts that really matter in real life (colonialism, etc), ykwim? But I get what you were trying to do.

hey anon I’m finally getting to you after 84 years XD

so first off, I want to be careful about how I approach this because I understand that as a white person (even if my ancestors experienced imperialism) in the US I absolutely benefit from imperialism and don’t want to like, idk, whitesplain XD so if anyone gets annoyed with any way I say anything, just lmk and I’ll rework it. and I also do understand that these are real world issues that are far more consequential than messaging in media (although I do think it’s very important that we challenge messages in media because of media’s influence on our thinking and politics).

but before I talk about zuko and his relationship to fire nation imperialism, and then later fire lady katara and why it isn’t INHERENTLY racist but definitely can be, I want to talk about the atla fandom and how we got here. like, why I assume that most anons who come at zutara shippers are asshats acting in bad faith. if you already know fandom history, skip this section.

1. atla and the fandom has always been kind of shitty and racist

so IDK if everyone is familiar with the history of the ship war in atla fandom, but it’s regarded as one of the nastiest ship wars in fandom history which I agree lol. atla’s creators were some of the first to interact with the fandom the way they did - back then it wasn’t all that common for creators to get into twitter feuds with fans and boundaries were respected more than they are now imo. but for better or worse, and it is a mixed bag, bryke interacted with fandom a lot. certainly at cons but also on social media.

but honestly things really got extra mean in fan spaces when bryke made a “joke” atla season 4 slideshow out of fan art (some of which was really sexual in nature and totally inappropriate) that mocked fans’ creations, but especially zutara fanart and zutara itself. it was pretty tasteless especially considering how most zutara fans were teen girls, and featured some art of sokka saying that if you think zuko and katara would be good together, you’re doomed to have failed relationships. that’s where the whole “dark and mysterious” bs came from, which does describe some zutara fic but not even most of it lol. I actually do respect bryke a lot despite my criticism of them, but I don’t think I’ll ever get over that shit. like even if you hate zutara, even if it’s a joke, we were kids. and they were adults, and the whole thing was nasty.

however, the ship war was chaotic and messy, but it does feel worse now. maybe it’s because back then the fandom was MOSTLY teens and kids, and I don’t think that’s true now. we were all trying to prove our ship was best with like, content from the show and theories and all that, and now it’s like... whose ship is ~problematic lol it’s a show by white us americans appropriating from various cultures impacted negatively by us/british imperialism that they then profited off of, of course it’s racist. that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t talk about that, and in fact many poc have been saying this shit for years - that atla is racist and colorist at many times (guru pathik anyone?) and no one really listened.

if fans are complaining only about zutara, then I’m automatically writing them off as being insincere or ignorant. and since most of these people are anonymous, I have no idea if they are having substantive discourse about colorism in avatar or cultural appropriation (even if it is mostly appreciative). if you are on anon, I have no context about what you actually think except for what you give me. and that definitely is how I view anons in general but especially within the atla fandom because for all 13-ish years I’ve been in it, it’s been messy. that’s why zutara fans have isolated ourselves from the rest of fandom, because the rest of fandom has been really nasty to us. like did we give back some nastiness? absolutely.

but I would hazard a guess that most anti-zutara shippers don’t know about the conversations we have had in this community to make it safer for people of color, conversations that centered poc and woc especially. hey, that’s okay - not to compare zutara to r*ylo because eurgh but like, idk what discourse the r*ylos have about their community. no idea, I don’t go looking for it. and I don’t go to the tags and harass r*ylos - even though they harass the fuck out of everyone else.

2. so zuko and his privilege

undoubtedly zuko as fire lord is in a fairly privileged position LMFAO. but during the show zuko is very clearly exiled - he holds very little political power in the fire nation EXCEPT for during the first season when he is in command of a ship that ozai gave him on a punishment quest lol like yeah he does terrible things and he of all people would not excuse his actions even if he was a traumatized kid, that’s the point of his arc - that he got some exposure to the rest of the world and worked to be better. and the only reason he was exiled at all was because he cares about people - he didn’t question fire nation supremacy at 13, but he sure did question the morality of his people being lead to slaughter.

but after zuko and iroh defect from the fire nation and stop hunting aang, he has next to no power, in any kind of way. like the guy is a political refugee. and yes, he goes back to the fire nation for like five minutes before realizing that he hates everything about fire nation hegemony and that he wants to end his father’s reign of terror, like that isn’t exactly someone who is going to be well esteemed by the powerful elites when he returns and takes the throne.

and I disregard the comics because they suck lol but zuko does have power as the fire lord, but he limits his power. like compared to ozai, phoenix asshole? azula? for the rest of the world, zuko is kind of an ideal leader for a former colonizing/imperialistic nation to have - someone who worked to end that tyranny, who is anti-imperialist, who believes in justice and equality, who wants to make things right for the peoples who his family oppressed.

I do think it is important to talk about power dynamics and imbalances in relationships - for instance, one could argue that mai is at a significant disadvantage in her relationship with zuko. sure she is from a powerful family but not as powerful as zuko’s. sokka? hah forget it. he’s just as disadvantaged as katara is politically speaking. toph? well, she’s definitely not as powerful politically as zuko - her family tried to silence her for years because of her disability. and oh, she’s disabled so it might be ableist for zuko to strike up a relationship with her when they’re both adults. forgetting of course that toph and sokka and katara and suki and mai are not going to be shy about their wants and needs, that these relationships are not likely to be coercive by nature of the show they’re in and the characters they involve. this is not bill clinton with monica creepiness. like, you’d have to write the relationship that way.

the only person who arguably has more political power than zuko is aang. I guess zuko can’t ever be in a relationship with anyone other than aang. and zuko’s family massacred aang’s people so I guess we can’t ship zukaang. now I know you’re not saying that, context matters. power dynamics are important. but you can’t take away the agency of characters - katara, who is essentially a princess, has agency and can choose who she wants to be with. strictly speaking, aang is more powerful than anyone in terms of political power - he’s the avatar - and of course the dynamic is different by nature of aang not being from a line of oppressors, but there still is a power imbalance in their relationship. and I don’t know how many k/ataang shippers have discourse~ on that. not that I really feel like they NEED to, um idk what they talk about lol I’m not in those circles.

3. fire lady katara is in the eye of the beholder

so fire lady katara is not inherently bad or racist, it’s essentially like saying michelle obama shouldn’t have been first lady of the us (now I get that like the obamas being in power didn’t mean black people are not marginalized lol). you can have conversations about whether or not individual versions of fire lady katara are fucked up, and I’m superrrr open to that because I’ve seen it be kinda shitty before. i’m just gonna leave this link to @shewhotellsstories and her post on this.

but often times katara as fire lady is very dominant in global/fire nation/water tribe politics, she’s a game changer ambassador (that is probably the most popular headcanon I see), she holds on to her culture (and many fans have designed her being in her wt colors, zuko is respectful af to her, she and zuko spend extended periods in the swt, etc. like... it just depends on the way it’s written.

also leaving this response by @avatarnerdkiller to the idea of katara being a prize figurehead.

anyway, thanks for your patience anon and I am curious to see if you see this or even feel like responding after all this time XD