#and then I made a post abt this before too

[faerghusfucker]

omg hiiiiii hi sylvain what are you doing on my tumblr page teehee 🤭🤭🤭🤭

BALL SYLVAIN IS DONE AT LAST guys i had a really hard time with him lmao. EVERY OTHER MAN IN THIS HOUSE IS LIKE “they don’t really enjoy formalwear so they went with something simple!” but not sylvain!!!! i KNOW this flashy mf is dressing to the nines for this ball, he is ON THE PROWL he is here to GET BITCHES and have a homoerotic sword fight with felix later but shhhh

like i said before, sylvain kinda took it upon himself to give all the guys makeovers for the ball and it ended up as a house-wide get-together in his room because mercedes and annette heard abt it and then dragged ingrid along because they felt bad for her lol. he had that suit jacket commissioned FOR THIS EVENT the second he heard abt it, sylvain is a fashionable guy but i think he loves gaudy shit like that too. no shirt for him because he’s a WHORE and he cannot leave the house without his collarbone exposed. he got zero girls at this ball and blamed it on felix for ruining his vibe. oh well!

i don’t see faerghus as being a land with much of a preoccupation with formal events tbh. it’s such a cold and solemn place that i think if they are having balls it’s for serious shit like coronations and maybe weddings but ehhhh idk. when there ARE balls and such, matthias does not trust sylvain to dress himself. he has servants choose his outfits and he keeps that man WITHIN HIS SIGHTS because. if sylvain is gonna make a bad name for house gautier it will not be on his watch!!! this is the first ball sylvain has been at without his father and so he just fully LETS LOOSE and dresses as slutty as his heart desires and probably pregames this event A LOT (to the disappointment of everyone else in the house). sylvain is the disappointment of the blue lions but he’s MY disappointment

here’s the updated lineup, you can see my headcanons for each design on the posts i made for them :3 they’re in my homepage post lol. ashe is next!!!!!

[sugarikiz]

thank you @eunandonly & @wonziz for bringing more light to this on your post here and here respectively, and talking about @/sighdeepseeker (report and block please!) for their hate on enhypen over here

evidence:

how can ANYONE say what taeil did doesn’t bring them disgust/hatred the way seeing jungwon does? so what if he was dating a girl (winter, or not) and so what if he smoked?

calling niki stupid too, amd bringing him into smth he wasn’t part of at all, is absolutely insane too. okay, you didn’t like jungwon smoking or dating — fine. you do you. but why bring someone totally unrelated to the issue into the mix?

im not saying what they’re saying about jungwon is right, im saying what they said abt niki was just not needed here.

01. THE GENERAL HATE

whatever jungwon or the other members do or who they date is none of engene’s business. im putting that out there as an engene myself, and that is absolutely true.

all of the hate towards jungwon is so unwarranted; he is a 20 year old, and very much an adult, so even if it’s true, why should you have so much hatred towards him for it?

there are multiple western artists who smoke, and is anyone going to run behind them screaming “you’re a cheat! kys!” for that? no.

now, before you come at me saying “western and kpop are very different”, i have to say that i mean this in the way that you need to treat k-idols as humans too, just as you treat western artist like that too.

it’s not jungwon’s fault for going live to apologise for all the allegations and drama when hybe most likely made him do it.

if someone put your job on the line, for one weverse live where you might or might not have to lie, what would you choose; live or lose the job you worked so hard for as a child?

02. THE DATING ALLEGATIONS WITH AESPA’S WINTER —

@.sighdeepseeker said something like this on a post;

“why do i get aespa winter smut recommendations? sorry, i can imagine what her and jungwon are doing every night and I definitely don’t want to read about or see it thank you very much.”

firstly, WHO put a gun to your head to think about it that way, and secondly, WHY would anyone ever even want to think about it that way?

just because they might be dating does not give fake engenes or engenes in general a free pass to let their imaginations run wild, if they ever even were dating in the first place.

what is the prejudice with dating in this industry, I’ll never know. do you really imagine that a 20 year old man, or a 22 year old woman have never had a partner or some type of romantic interest? because if so, you might need to go see someone who can get you out of that weird mindset.

these are our idols, not our damn puppets, and I would love for “fans” to someday realise that, better sooner than later.

i urge you to please spread the awareness about this, and go look into this more. thank you for reading, and have a good day/night.

tagging — @puma-riki @bywonyo @flufflights @amoressb @heeaara @heestoleurgirl @woniefication @miukidoll @haerinheartss @leaderwon @flwrstqr

[hwonnrinji]

WIPS 📢🗣️

it doesn't have specific dates to be posted because im bad at deadlines

• the bottle in my hand — s.l

– in which you come home drunk from a party and sophia takes care of you

• fatal trouble — s.l

– vampire!sophia x human!yn (is this twilight based... yes. an anon requested it in my inbox. and i saw @/nakylvr's post abt vampire sophia)

• miss valentine — m.s

– you often tease megan, your classmate, regardless of the subject. from skiing to birthdays, it's always been a laugh or joke. now, 4 days before valentine's day and on megan's birthday, she finds a note, a gift, and a bouquet of flowers in her locker.

• puppy love — j.yc

– you volunteered at the animal shelter during the summer since you love animals. yoonchae, a worker at the shelter, didn't want to see you go at the end of the summer.

• studio time — k.mj

– minji was struggling with writing a love song, and you were more than happy to help. one small issue. minji might've realized her feelings in the process.

• kickflip — p.h

– when hanni finds out one of the kids she was teaching to skate has a really pretty sister, she couldn't help but try to impress her. OR ; 4 times hanni fails to impress, 1 time she succeeds

• lovestruck — m.jh

– being cupid means you never get your own happy ending until retirement since you were too busy focusing on matchmaking. danielle, a rather new cupid on the job, falls in love with a target on her first day.

• chemistry — k.hr

– academic rivalries are common. what's even more common is the hate brewing into love.

• like a marathon — n.kh

– being around kazuha made your heart feel like it was running laps.

• you plus me — y.jw

– jungwon was your best friend since you were kids. he always knew he had feelings for you, but you were as dense as a solid matter.

• to my lady — p.js

– set in the 1900s, park "jay" jongseong, a wealthy south korean immigrant living in london, fell in love with a family friend's maid. despite his courting and flirting, she wouldn't give in.

[swordmaid]

brienne but she's wearing 1949 cocteau's beauty and the beast inspired fit!!! this is the inspo pic i used if ur curious.

gonna be posting more of this redesign thing (and also jaime's ver) some time in the future but i just wanted to share this one <3

[alienssstufff]

Updated Gillion and Edyn designs as exercise

+the oldish Chip and Jay sketch from twt

[relaxxattack]

rereading the hivebent commentary makes me so annoyed that people are never really willing to analyze the actual effects that alternian culture clearly had on every troll, especially the highbloods. pretty much the only troll who ever actually gets taken in the context of her upbringing is vriska.

no one ever seems willing to think about the character arcs of trolls like equius and terezi, who are also bluebloods with extremely hypocritical and toxic understandings of the people around them-- equius is boiled down to a gross creep who is just like that naturally and definitely didn't get it from his society in any way, whilst terezi is scrubbed of virtually all her flaws and turned into a strange sort of woke love interest character who is all about being gay and too cool to be tricked by any of the alternian propaganda. quadrants? classism? how silly! terezi would never believe in stupid shit like that. she's quirky! and GAY!

despite the fact that equius and terezi both obviously have much, much more to their personalities than that-- and the alternian empire is informing way more dangerous things about these kid's beliefs than "you can kiss your enemies".

[starstruckodysseys]

so is there like. a second, actual-food fabian running around somewhere

[itsgonnagetinspiringsoon]

Ok fellas it's time. After this I'll probably just do it myself but for old times' sake

5 notes and I'll listen to the wisdom saga

Not sure you can manage this one tbh 🤷

[lanternlightss]

Yaaay writing requests ^^. Do you think we could get the old mondstadt gang (everyone lives) reacting to venti after ascending do godhood? 👀. I think it'd be interesting >.<

As beings of Anemo, there is little reason for wind wisps to partake in the act of breathing. Why would they, those made of that same air as the one whirling around them, need to? This remains true for Venti, even after they had taken a form alike to Cecil’s own.

If. If only Venti did not take a liking to breathing, pretending—for a moment—that they have lungs to use, the subtle up and down of their chest, at first a conscious choice that you could see being made, moving towards one they do without thought. Something human. Something mortal. It makes them happy, to be able to mimic such abilities, such mundanity.

This is, to say, that he is impressed they have learned how to do it whilst they sleep (their wings twitching intermittently); as he feels the occasional soft breaths (he counts—a full minute of complete stillness, followed by a shuttering, jagged exhale, repeat) being blown across the hand that they rest beside, having used his left arm and waist as a pillow during the night.

He does not mind, not at all. Had sat up to place his right hand atop their head once he was not blinking sleep from his eyes, playing with the strands.

Briefly, he entertains the thought of humming them a lullaby, or perhaps, a tune to celebrate this moment, that they are all here, together, still. He dismisses it the moment he begins to toss the idea around, knowing that those same people included in that “they are all here, together, still” in the room with him (Amos, in her own makeshift bed beside him—Cecil “borrowed” the one he is using, truth be told, he should be in the room one down—with Valentina besides her sat in a chair, and Felix standing at the entrance) would kick a fit if he even dared to strain his voice further (orders from the healers.) How elated he had been when they told him he could still talk, simply had to be quiet, low.

“…how asleep, are they?”

Aha, speaking of his dear companions.

Cecil inclines his head towards Felix, though his eyes never stray from Venti. “I do not believe they will be waking up, for a long while.” (Thank the winds for that, they deserve it—he had heard that whilst he and Amos’ injuries were being attended to, the rest of them had been running themselves particularly ragged dealing with the everything.)

He hears Felix sigh heavily in response, and the shifting of fabric. Shoulders, presumably, fell? He brings his eyes up to scrutinize—the man looks one awful sway away from collapsing.

“Good, that means we can have this discussion in peace.”

That … particular phrasing does not inspire a good feeling. He forces himself not to show outward unease at the words, instead, curling the hand in Venti’s hair to touch at their forehead, and lightly gripping what he can of the sheets with the other.

“Are you sure we should be having any discussion? Both you and Valentina should get rest, too—you look a dead man walking, Felix.”

And—there, Felix’s relaxed shoulders seem to tense, his jaw clamping and working in a gritted motion subtly. Cecil is waved off, both in tone and by the fluttering of his hand, “I will rest easier after this.”

He chances a glance over, to where Valentina has scooted to the very edge of her seat, clutching at her knees in a white-knuckled grip, with furrowed brows. Amos, meanwhile, is propped against pillows, slightly slouching, her bangs and unbraided strands casting a shadow over her eyes, as she burns her gaze into Felix.

The first to speak of them is Valentina, leaning forwards: “Which discussion have we not already taken care of?”

Felix does not look away from Venti, but a grimace overtakes his face, angling his head in a way to hide himself behind both his hair and the large fur of his cape. He seems rather… uncomfortable, now—his crossed arms pulling further into his chest, one hand flexing. It continues to stay this way, even when gesturing to where Cecil’s wisp cuddles against him, and speaking the words, “What do we do about them?”

Her eyes harden, back straightening in an instant. “What is it that you mean.”

(Cecil is quick, to check on Amos. Her bangs have now completely covered her eyes, and he cannot truly gauge a reaction. He worries the sheets between his fingers.)

That discomfort shines, in the floundering of Felix’s limbs—his arms flinging outwards, his hand waving about as he grasps for words. “The whole point of this was that we did not want a God to rule over us, the way they had! And then, whatever it is of that…. those heavens, has decided we were wrong in that thinking, that they sent us another God to deal with, not a moment’s peace from the previous? Are we to never escape from the divine?”

Valentina stands, her mouth twisted into a tight-lipped frown, both her fists raised to her sides and clenching. She is stopped from going farther by Amos raising an arm in front of her.

A brief spark of irritation whisks throughout Cecil’s chest, and he wishes Felix had chosen a better moment to do this—Amos, as well, is not supposed to talk above a quiet voice, or for long periods of time. “I fear we would have encountered divinity whether we wanted to or not—tell me, why is it that many had told us of a frozen land, yet when the storm vanished, the snow was fading?” Her arm shakes imperceptibly, “Had it not been for … what decision it was, that transpired before we succeeded, we would have come to face the God responsible for declaring the war.”

(That is, to say nothing of their neighboring nation and Boreas’ wolves….)

She turns, and, he notes, that for the first time since Venti’s presence had made itself known (when they had near silently glided into the room, the door creaking shut just so, with Anemo slowly dissipating from their form, and playfully tousled Cecil’s bangs in a light breeze) Amos looks directly at the God, who has huddled closer—they seem to be trying to lay themselves over all of him—whilst the conversation had gone on.

Her eyes seem to soften, staring a few seconds longer, then dropping her attention to the end of the bed. She turns away, her arm falling to her lap, hands lacing together and nails gently clinking against each other.

“Perhaps we should count ourselves fortunate, that of all beings to ascend, it was the Elf.”

Felix scowls and presses his back against the wall, the sound of his cape sliding across it echoing, nearly drowning out the even quieter grumblings of his, “Fortunate is not the word I would use.”

How terrible for him, that for as far as he is from Cecil, his words still ring clear—words that cause that spark of irritation to flare into a burst of small flames, flames that have to be forcefully smothered out. Over the little time that the bard has not been able to walk the grassy lands, has he forgotten? Nothing, not a single noise, escapes from those who always listen, who keep their ears pinned to the striking chords of the winds.

His eyes narrow, bordering on a glare. And this is not quite shaping to be a “discussion”; would it be a proper one, they would actually be going somewhere, and not talking in practically circles.

“Why unfortunate?” Felix’s head snaps to him, and Cecil (pushes the flames) risks skimming his hand to where Venti’s right ear is, holding his palm there (a useless gesture, really, yet he does it anyhow). “You would not start anything if there was no value to be had of it—so, please, what is it you wish to truly say?”

The man opens his mouth, pauses. Cecil continues to stare, lowering his chin, his brows drawing together, upward, and the edges of his mouth threatening to fall.

Boots scuff against the floor, when Felix titters side to side, considering. A breath rushes out of him, harsh. Then, as if it were a leaf fallen onto still waters and sending ripples across the surface, he utters: “If they turn against us—what are we to do?”

Try as he might not to (flames slipping between the gaps of his fingers), Cecil lurches forward, and halts himself rather awkwardly halfway through it hearing Venti make an indescribable noise. He looks to them, seeing them curl inward, their brows knitted, wings dazedly moving to shield their body. A wince pulls at him, as he adjusts back to where he was (almost to, he should say—positioning himself to hide them from Felix’s view, his torso bent over them), and the hand covering their ear runs to their hair, massaging; they start to relax from it, wings spreading, and nestling their face into his waist.

(A splendid sight, yet… a bitter feeling forms, coating his mouth.)

Scratching at where two strands—resembling the ones they had as a wisp—sprout, he presses, a hiss to it, “Turn against us..?”

He holds his hands in the air, by his chest. “I know. I know, I have seen them.”

If the emotion of “incredulous” could be humanized, Cecil would be the perfect role, right then. Has he? Has he??

Admittedly, for most of the time he has been awake, he can count on one hand and two extra fingers how much he was fully lucid during it. When the pain constricting in his chest was not clouding his vision, when there was no fog laid over his mind, his surroundings dizzy, his limbs feeling inexplicably heavy. Shoving this all aside, however—during those lucid moments, and finding Venti waiting for him, their entire demeanor brightening at their locking of eyes; he noticed how terror and apprehension threaded through their being.

He does not think they have a capacity to harm—not for those they love, not for those they have a branch of trust to—by the fact that they cannot bring themself to hold his wrist in a firm grip without panicking of potentially “breaking him.”

(Or that they, wind now trapped in a bottle, a shell for them to be tied to, try next to everything to compact themselves to the size they once were. From curling into a ball on the wooden chair, from using their wings to hide themself away, from bowing and crumbling in the cradle of his palms.

How they are bigger and powerful, certainly, yet the world around them still remains so much more than they are.)

Felix slumps. “It would only be as a precaution. We should be prepared—”

There is a clanging of armor, signaling Valentina’s steps inching towards Felix. When she speaks, her voice is stern, tinged slightly by bafflement.

“No, you are aware, just as I, to what they are capable of! They are listening to the people, and doing what they can for them!” Her hand clenches, metal shuddering. “And even… they have been this way, they stopped at nothing to keep my clan safe, out in the frozen barrens. We should have seen a sign by now if they were to change, the winds are simple creatures. There is no reason for this precaution!”

“Are we to lay all our trust in what was? Their knowledge is more! They are not such a simple creature! They know intimately the hopes and dreams of mere humans—what that does. They have become privy to how far mortality can go, to how much a human can take before their life is snuffed from them, and now they have the ability to do something about it.”

He sweeps a hand, jerkily, to the two in bed, during the last words.

Cecil bristles. Their injuries are not to be used for matters like this. No one should have expected that death would not be nipping at their heels during the revolt, that they would not have to grab on to the world of living and dig. A retort readies on his lips, lips pulled back, only to—still.

(Oh. There is no air being blown across.

Oh.)

Valentina side-steps to the other side of Amos’ bed, hackles fully raised, a righteous glare upon her face. “You truly know nothing of the wind, then, if you believe they would willingly go back to those restraining—!”

“Enough.”

They both startle. Cape, whipping. Armor, clanking.

“Enough,” Amos repeats, the words sounding as though they were scraped from her throat. “The both of you… shall we have someone watch over, when you are outside here? You have swung knives.”

In unison, their shoulders hunch. She draws a soft breath, half-watching Valentina stride over to grab the canteen of water from the side table, offering it to her—while Felix seems to attempt to meld into his cape. She takes it into a tight grip, the tips of her fingers trembling, but does not bring it to her lips. Opting to swish the water inside, instead.

“A godhood is delicate,” taps at the canteen, the sound reverberating, “Especially one at … at the very beginning, of their divinity. A sign of change would not be in mortal lifetimes—it drips, one by one, slow.”

She turns to face them, once more. Trailing from where Venti’s wings flutter, the sleeves of their robe half splayed over the bed, to where Cecil is furled around them, a few pieces of hair strands falling over his eyes as he bows further at her stare. Eyes meet, hers, tinged in an old pain and weighted by exhaustion; his, bordering on guarded, cracked with pleading.

Underlying all of that is an understanding.

(You can never quite understand a God’s thinking, will only get to see the glimpses of what layers that sit just underneath the surface, a scratch of it, but love—

A God’s love, their eyes and arms locked around you, is something all encompassing.)

“We should continue to offer them the kindness they gave us.” Another tap, another tink. “Whatever path they follow down, whatever they choose to do, hundreds or thousands of years after this—at the least, they will remember having us by their side. Should they give an inkling, now, however—”

“All these what-ifs,” Cecil murmurs bitterly, withholding a sneer. “Could we, say, let them take their own steps first? They hardly have a proper footing!”

The puff of air that escapes her is almost amused. Her gaze drifts downwards, where the water of the canteen sloshes as it is tipped to her mouth. She sets it gently into her lap, after, a chorus of clinking coming from the repetitive thumping of her fingers.

“Of course.” She hands the canteen to Valentina, and the trembling of her limbs seems to have worsened. The blunt ends of her nails press into the palm of her hands, briefly, and she goes to pull the bed’s cover up to her chest, hiding her arms by tucking it over her fists. Then, “I have not seen you receive any medical care, these past days. Have you been shirking?”

Venti’s wings puff, a minute flinch going throughout their body. He pets at their hair, twirling it between the gaps of fingers—he had been checked on the day before his wisp had visited, and watched as they checked Amos’ health, too, quietly asking if the soreness had lessened, after the healer left, and her reply of rolling her shoulders and commenting that it does not feel like she is being crushed.

“Hee, I was hoping you would not catch that…” He nuzzles into their head. Backs a bit away, nary an inch or so, and brings his hand to their jaw, stroking his thumb along their cheeks. Venti tenses, brows scrunching. He continues, mock whispering, “Psst, Miss Amos revealed one of my secrets, can you believe…? Quite mean of her, hmpf! You would be my knight and defend my honor, would you not, Venti? My dearest?”

There is a pause, where he can see them debate with whether they should “awaken” or not. He waits, humming lowly—and is rewarded when two glittering green-blue teal jewels blink up at him.

“Knight..?”

“Yes! I shall gather you a shield, so that we can deflect her peddling—”

“My deepest apologies for not wishing your wounds to infect.”

Cecil leans to stick his tongue at her (she wrinkles her nose in jest), feeling more than seeing Venti sit taller, their hands moving to grasp at his wrist. A perturbed expression greets him when he turns back to them, searching him for anything critical. His heart squeezes, flips, squeezes.

He reaches out to brush his hand against a braid, tracing the poof part that is held together by a band. Hopes that the twinkling in his stare is enough to convey Do not worry, a “go along.” The ruffled feathers of their wings start to smooth out, fluttering about, as they squint at him—message received. “How many missed?”

“Only one session, I promise. My bandages… may need replacing, a little,” ducks his head, bonking against their forehead, and offers up a gentle, crooked smile. “Walk me back?”

They graze their own hand over his, holding it loosely. Nods, and lets go, standing from the chair, using their foot to push it away farther. Cecil shakes off his arm as he yanks the cover down to the end of the bed, throwing his legs over the side, the soles of his feet hitting the floor. Venti holds their hand out for him to take, pulling him up (though, he notes, they keep their fingers intertwined tightly with his.)

“You will be going?” Felix questions, uncrossing his arms.

“Mmm. I believe Amos has had enough of my shenanigans.” He waves his hand, stepping in front of Venti, having them still out of Felix’s view.

“… if you need any he—”

“Fret not, I have the most wonderful guiding wind!” He leans into Venti, as subtly he can, beaming. They are besides the man, now, and he tugs them closer to the doorway. “We should be on our way now, might be able to catch a healer along our journey.”

He waves to Amos and Valentina, receiving waves back (though, on Valentina’s part, seem slightly reluctant to see the both of them go.) They both skirt around the doorway and down the hall, where Cecil exhales, his shoulders sagging.

If they wish to still discuss such a topic, fine, if that is what will bring them ease in this environment. Everyone is on edge and wary, equally they are relieved and excited. He has seen how some shuffle around the new God, confused how to interact with the wisp. But if they wish to do it while the person they discuss is there, unaware, they are welcome to be his guest to explain to Venti why that topic involved which of the best ways to stab them in the back was—especially when there are more important issues that should be focused on! That warrior, in particular….

Urgh.

He squeezes Venti’s hand, placing his head upon their shoulder.

“My darling knight, I love you no matter what.”

…they squeeze his hand, ears flicking, and wings puffing once more.

[lavenoon]

Kindled Spirits AU

Soulmate AU revamped with a Y/N <3

Basics: Soulmate bonds are 1) not necessarily romantic, 2) not a given and not always between just 2 people, 3) not necessarily reciprocal (rare, but happens) Basically soulmates are bonded via dreams - meeting within dreams, or dreaming of each other’s memories, anything in dreams is fair game Plays a year after the pizzaplex fire and given that I had the idea a good while ago none of the dlc is included in the premise, also bc this is based on an old self insert fic Y/N is extremely audhd because that I refuse to take out

Y/N has spent most of their life assuming they don’t have a soulmate, which is a relief because they’re plagued by nightmares/ stress dreams a lot. They got used to those, and when some other hazy dreams crop up later in life they don’t think much of it.

Then one night they dream of burning. An indoor playground, they stand in the middle of it, filled with hopelessness and self hatred they cant explain (the irony of Sun burning to death). They don’t feel alone though, and though they can’t see anyone else, they know someone else is there. It's both a comfort as well as agonizing, and the care for that other person is evident, despite the whole emotional cocktail. They go through the entire dream incapable of changing anything, and then wake up still feeling hot but also cold and clammy, phantom flames still licking at their skin. All while they cope with the idea that maybe they did have a soulmate, and that is now past tense.

For an entire year they go around thinking they witnessed their soulmate(s?) burning to death via dream, not telling anyone about it but carrying that guilt.

They move, and find a new job - the Pizzaplex is hiring! No one wants to be a security guard anymore after all that weird shit a year ago, so even though Y/N lacks the qualifications, they get hired. Rotating shifts, day (morning/ afternoon) and night. The first time they walk past the daycare, it flashes into flame - but no, that’s just coincidence. It’s the first indoor playground they’ve seen since then, it’s hazy dream memories worsened by guilt, it’s not the same.

Y/N befriends the daycare attendant, and the naptime attendant - they talk to Sun sometimes through the slide, and Moon usually bothers them on their security rounds. They do meet Sun first, after trying to be helpful throwing down some stray ballpit balls down the slide, and a curious Sun crawls up just to get a ball to the face. Y/N feels very bad about that, and given their lack of scripts for how to interact with animatronics, they just fall back on the scripts they already have. Sun doesn't seem to mind, so it's all good! Then one night they shout a belated "Good night!" down the slide, after the lights in the daycare have turned off, and barely avoid falling when suddenly Moon stands behind them, asking them just what they're doing. He makes his dislike of their flashlight promptly known, and then they have a menace of a shadow for their rounds.

That goes on for a couple weeks, until Sun asks them inside of the daycare to address a few concerns they could please relay to management?

And then the perspective is just undeniable. Y/N gets caught in the flashback, seeing it all burn again, and Sun startles them out of it. They don’t tell him. They can’t. But they realize that he’s been forced to work in a direct replica of the place where he burned to (temporary) death.

After that they keep trying to broach the topic of soulmates in general, but Sun and Moon are very much convinced that as animatronics they are not people, and they can’t dream anyway, so how would they have a soulmate? So silly!

Dreams and personhood are very connected in this AU - with dreams linking souls society just assumes that anyone without dreams is not a person. (Is this a societal issue for other humans who don't dream? Sure! People are people and will exclude others for any reason!)

Meanwhile Y/N starts having more dreams - they assume because now they live closer, actually met their soulmates, there’s less of a barrier to only have the super traumatic stuff make it into their dreams. In fact, they are kind of relieved that their usual nightmares are exchanged for extremely mundane “watching kids play in the daycare” or watching themself being bothered by Moon from his POV.

It’s a struggle trying to convince their soulmates that they are in fact people, while wondering if the bond is reciprocated because how would they tell? Sun and Moon can’t dream, there’s no confirmation that Y/N is their soulmate too! Lots of fear of rejection that’s holding them back here

But also some shenanigans at this time, like Y/N knowing that Moon follows them on their routes, and calling him out on it when he tries to stay hidden. He asks how they knew, and they bluntly reply “it came to me in a dream”. Moon laughs, then asks for the truth that they don’t know how to give after he rejects it so easily. They end up deflecting and he goes back to being a menace.

Also Y/N being somewhat anxious once they realize that Sun uses "friend" for many people (whenever they do see him interact with adults, which isn't often) and awkwardly ask for confirmation because oh no what if he's just being polite and they read too much into it? They almost regret it when he proves that Moon isn't the only menace and makes sure they know he considers them their friend after! Moon continues being a cat in his affections, so when Y/N asks him the same he ends up positively surprised, somewhat guilty (due to the secrets he keeps, and the danger he still believes he poses), but mostly ramps up the friendly annoying to the max

And then Y/N ends up impulsively telling Moon. He wants them to be joking - asks them to, even, to take it all back. When they refuse he reacts more in anger and accuses them of deluding themself, suggesting they need medical attention. They get angry then, too, because is he really telling them to go to a doctor after they confess something like this? It ends badly, with Y/N fleeing the scene and then avoiding both Moon and Sun for a good while.

Until Sun requests their presence about a “security issue” in the closed daycare, and Y/N goes even knowing he’ll want to talk. He’s concerned more than angry, but disbelieving all the same. Y/N’s patience is running thin when Sun, desperately, asks them just what they were dreaming about to be so convinced - what made them think they're linked to an animatronic like that? - so they tell him about the fire. They also tell him that they were telling the truth that one time with Moon. Sun (and Moon) get their own flashback, and Y/N ends up frantic, apologizing for bringing it up like that, while the boys are just terrified that

1) Y/N had to see that, experience it via dream

and 2) just what else could they have seen?

Moon in particular is terrified - he approaches them a bit later, asking about other dreams they might’ve had. Even says “they would have been nightmares”. He assumes that Y/N must have witnessed the virus induced murders and has no idea how to assure them that he’s not that, after he reacted in so much anger at their initial confession. His concern doesn’t really lessen, and more shifts upon being told that “I wouldn’t know, all my dreams are nightmares anyway”.

Mostly themed around growing closer after that, and working around “we don’t need to dream of you to know we like you, and we do!” as well as uncovering the past trauma Sun and Moon have gone through (and are going through, still trapped in the same building in a replica of where they burned).

Also Sun and Moon struggling to accept their personhood because if they’re people, then they are traumatized and were (and are being) mistreated for a long time, and that’s also hard to come to terms with. Some thoughts towards animatronic emancipation though I never got that far in the fic, so mostly comfort and slice of life as they work around the little bump in the road of their soulmate bond. Y/N opening up about their own dreams, and why it's so difficult to say they had any nightmares based on Sun and Moon's experience before the literal death experience not just breaking the ice but rather melting it at record speed

Would remain platonic/ ambiguous because it was very important to me that soulmates aren't necessarily romantic, and they all have bigger fish to fry than whether or not they'd like to go on dates - given that that's hardly an option while Sun and Moon cannot leave the Plex. The reassurance and relationship beyond the bond actually is the most important part, with Y/N admitting to both Sun and Moon and also themself that they enjoy having them as soulmates, of course! But they'd be friends with or without those dreams, given that Y/N initially approached them both before they even realized. Which is also a relief, because Sun and Moon do feel bad over not being able to confirm that it's reciprocated - they feel like it is, they want it to be (and isn't that the most important part?)! But they don't know. And that's okay - because they found each other, dreams or not, and they won't lose that <3

This is as much as I have right now, and as much as it'll stay for the time being! Enjoy <3

[skitskatdacat63]

This photo was life-ruining for me(and @sweatyflytrap ) honestly....

[velvetwyrme]

sniffs. to be able to talk abt my aus and ocs i have to. make stuff to post about them. like wdym yall cant just read my mind and unspool my thoughts.

this is a thought i have frequently and no i havent posted abt literally any of them since the last time i thoguht abt iy agdkgjwlengghdkfbdk

[trans-yllz]

*holding my little wei wuxian plush in my hands* please mr yiling laozu help me pass my drivers test

[yardsards]

"they never dated but they ARE exes" is such a funny relationship for two characters to have. very awkward relationship to have irl tho

[seaweedstarshine]

Thinking about the convolution of Eleventh Doctor's expressions of love for River Song in Season 7B. He does not trust Clara. He is utterly (wrongly) convinced that he and Clara are playing a grand manipulative game together. “What are you, eh?! A trick? A trap?!!”

So naturally, the last thing he should do in this game is to clue his opponent in on something that could be used to hurt him. Something like River, so painfully near the end of their time together, whose data ghost he can always see, who “it would hurt too much” to acknowledge. He can't let Clara know of the loss which constantly floods his senses; (“You are always here to me. And I always listen, and I can always see you,” he professes, once Clara has vanished into his timestream).

And yet. River fills his every moment (irregardless of any sneaking out for dates with increasingly-young Rivers while Clara is asleep like he did while the Ponds slept, which would explain his absence when the TARDIS is hiding Clara's bedroom). Even though it's not strategic, he can’t help but tell Clara about her. The best defense he can manage is to phrase it as if River isn’t as important to him as she is. Not only is avoiding her first name in his grief; he's also completely avoiding pronouns; which seems extreme given that he's still mentioning her as often as: “Oh yeah, of course he has! Professor Song! Sorry, it's just I never realized you were a woman.”

Leave out the emotion — leave out the details — don't show the cracks in the armor — play the part — win the game.

“Well, there's no point now. We're about to die. JUST TELL ME WHO YOU ARE.”

[eclaire-went-bam]

npd + rdr culture is seeing people call dutch a narcissist and going "YEAA KING he's just like me ong" and then promptly realise they're actually insulting him with the word 'narcissist' & i proceed to backpedal ...