#but yeah my question mostly is how far they are willing to stray from the core gameplay the franchise is known for

[true-blue-sonic]

I’m ill in bed rn but the way I BOLTED to grab my laptop for this :>

What I think the biggest “problem” might be is the fact Sonic is inherently a high-speed franchise. Gameplay that is well-received, like Shadow in SxSG and (imo at least) the Avatar in Forces have something in common: they all go fast still, and have something on top (Chaos Spear and Chaos Control, the Wispons) that combines well with the high-speed gameplay the franchise is known for. But for a game focused on psychokinesis, I struggle to envision how that would work, to be honest. E.g. in SxSG Chaos Spear aims automatically and you just need to ram the X button; there is no disruption in the high-speed-ness of it. But for Silver you’d either have to aim the items he’s holding, which would be really difficult while going at high speeds or maybe also too similar to Shadow’s recent gameplay if they home in on enemies automatically… or you wouldn’t be going at high speeds. Here I’m specifically thinking in a 3D environment; in the second video you linked, throwing the boxes at enemies seems to go relatively smoothly, but Silver does need to stop running most times. I’m mentally comparing it to the Homing Attack, which technically also slows Sonic down, but not to a full stop. Plus, Homing Attacks are usually used in a way that you either can immediately boost again, hit a dash pad, or grab a pulley/reel to keep going. So should Silver have something similar, or something else entirely?

And in that vein, I do think the franchise is long overdue for more games, and spin-offs that don’t necessarily play like a Boost game to begin with! TMOSTH for example is generally regarded as an adorably cute and well-written slice-of-life visual novel, and it’s iirc the highest-rated and/or most-downloaded Sonic game on Steam. Of course, it helps that it’s free, but people wouldn’t play it if they weren’t at least interested in a slice-of-life visual novel with the Sonic cast, I would say. I would really like it if they tried out something new within a whole different genre of gameplay again! Maybe something like Battle, or (dare I say it haha) Chronicles… Because I think in an RPG, Silver could star wondrously. You can use his powers to move the environment around to progress and he can use them to attack in battle! Plus, it would solve the issue with the Boost gameplay, because in a semi-open RPG world, going too fast actively hinders the exploration you’re supposed to be doing. In that regard, I think Silver’s powers could lend themselves much better to a game that’s not a 2D/2.5D/3D platformer, but something entirely different in the action game genre.

So in general my conclusion is that I find it difficult to combine Silver’s PK with the Boost/high-speed gameplay formula, but that I can envision him work really well in different game genres the franchise doesn’t use much. But, to be honest, I agree most with your very first sentiment. Should Silver get his own game? I think you’re right in that people on Tumblr seem to feel much more warmly towards him than 18 years ago, certainly. But I can’t judge if that’s only on Tumblr or also other websites, because Tumblr is the only social media I use. And indeed, I can imagine it might cause a massive rift in the fandom, if a character like Silver gets a solo game over Tails, Amy, Knuckles, perhaps even Shadow still… Though I would love it if Silver got the spotlight again, I can also understand why fans of the more popular/longer-existing characters would feel incredibly snubbed. So it's overall a difficult matter indeed, but it seems that members of SoJ still feel quite fondly towards Silver, so who knows what the future holds?

Should Silver T. Hedgehog have his own (good) game?

lmao

Well, I don't know if he "should". While Silver is certainly more beloved now than he was in the late 2000s, he's still something of a tertiary character. Imagine him getting a game before Amy. I would run far away from the fallout :P

However, Silver's playstyle in '06 is perfect for a spinoff, perhaps even better than putting it in a main Sonic game. You could have all sorts of neat puzzle and platforming sections with his telekinesis, while still keeping part of the flow of a Sonic game (I'm okay with Silver being slower, just... not that slow lol). It would be cute if the game had something of a time travelling system à la Sonic CD too!

I remember playing a 2D fangame with Silver that was very fun! You used the mouse to move objects. I think it's this one:

But this is more in line with what I was thinking about regarding the flow:

@true-blue-sonic as the residential Silver fan, do you have any ideas? :3

[minijenn]

UF Preview 2

Figured I'd give you a taste of the boy's side of things too. Featuring Pearl being a Mom, i guess.

---

As she returned to the temple, the first thing Pearl noticed was a trail of discarded clothes leading up to the bedroom loft. She frowned at the mess as she followed it to the base of the stairs, going mostly unnoticed by the pair rummaging through a pile of clothes at the top. 

“Steven? Dipper?” she called up to them, confused. “What are you two doing up there?”

“Oh, hey, Pearl-” Before Dipper could explain, Steven cut him off as his head popped up out of a pile of his own shirts. 

“Pearl! Have you seen my sweatbands anywhere? We need them for something really important!”

“I can’t say that I have…” Pearl said, already picking up a few of Steven’s stray shirts and folding them neatly. “What do you need them for so badly anyway?”

“For sweating!” Steven proclaimed, emerging from his pile again, this time with a pair of sweatbands in hand. 

“Uh… which we’ll probably be doing a lot of while we’re learning how to be real men from the manotaurs,” Dipper elaborated.

“What?!” Pearl asked, alarmed. 

“Yeah!” Steven rushed down into the kitchen, stocking up on more jerky to help them stay in the manotaurs’ good graces. “They’re gonna teach us all sorts of stuff about being tough! We’re gonna get supa strong! Like Sugilite!”

Pearl flinched as soon as she heard the fusion’s name. Still, she quickly collected herself when she remembered the other problem now at hand. “Manotaurs?” she questioned, frowning. “How on earth did you two get tangled up with those brutes anyway? They’re hardly a good source of advice, considering the fact that they rarely think.”

“Oh yeah! They mentioned something about having some sort of rivalry with you guys,” Dipper said.. “What’s the deal with that?”

“Well… it’s not so much of a rivalry as it is… a mutual sense of contempt,” Pearl admitted. “We try to get along with all of the various tribes and creatures of Gravity Falls, but the manotaurs have never been willing to meet us halfway. Apparently, they have a problem with our “girliness”, whatever that means.”

“Aw, come on, Pearl,” Steven countered. “The manotaurs aren’t so bad. Like we said, they’re gonna help us be manly!”

“Yes… Well, maybe that’s not such a good idea…” Pearl glanced away from the pair. 

“What?” Dipper asked, puzzled as both he and Steven finally picked up on her apprehension. “Why not?”

“Um… Well…”

“But Pearl,” Steven protested zealously. “How else are we gonna become men?”

“You know, maybe being a… ‘man’ isn’t the most important thing,” Pearl cautioned. “After all, you both are still rather young. You still have plenty of time to grow into actual men.”

“Yeah, but that’ll take way too long,” Dipper protested staunchly. “We’ve gotta prove that we’re strong now or else everyone will think we’re wimps forever!”

“Oh, I doubt that,,,” Pearl folded her arms. “Besides, there are many different ways of being strong…”

“But we wanna be strong in the real way!” Steven emphasized, not getting her point. 

“Yeah!” Dipper agreed with a confident grin. “Like men!”

“Yeah!” Steven launched into spirited round of cheering, which Dipper was quick to join in on as the two headed out the door. “Men! Men! Men!”

“Boys! Wait!” Pearl called out after them, though they hardly heeded her as they left to head back to the manotaurs. She didn’t hold back a disdainful sigh as the door slammed behind them, turning back to the mess still scattered all over the house. A mess in more ways than one, really. 

She should have guessed that Steven would still be enthralled with the idea of being “strong” after Sugilite’s wreckless display the previous night. What she couldn’t have anticipated was someone as seemingly level-headed as Dipper to get wrapped up in that same mania too, and with the manotaurs no less. If they had only asked, she would have been more than happy to educate them both on a kind of strength that was far more than physical: strength of mind, heart, and spirit alike. But instead, they’d chosen brute strength, alongside the likes of the manotaurs and Sugilite; something that, as far as she had seen, usually only led to disaster. 

Unsure of how else to vent her frustrations, Pearl took to singing as she continued picking Steven’s clothes up off the floor. Her voice belted out across the empty temple in a passionate tune, one that carried just how discouraged she really was. 

“Why do you have to look up to them? Aside from in a literal sense-”

“Don’t you know that big comes with a bigger expense?”

That expense, as far as Pearl was concerned, was common sense. Something that both Sugilite and the manotaurs had barely a trace of, something that she only hoped Steven and Dipper could find before it was too late. 

“And can’t you see that they’re out of control and overzealous?”

“I’m telling you for your own good, and not because I’m-”

She sharply cut herself off, blushing. She didn’t want to admit it, she never would. But deep down, she knew the truth; she knew just how inferior she always felt when stacked up against a fusion that was much more massive and mighty than she could ever hope to be.

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 13

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit​ for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 6.7k

Recommended song: "Cupid’s Chokehold/Breakfast in America” by Gym Class Heroes

"I have to go."

"Can't you stay five more minutes?"

"I wish."

"Come on, just a few more minutes to cuddle." Pierre flings back the fluffy duvet and holds out a hand. "Please?"

"I have an exam," you say with a sigh but bend to press a kiss to his upturned palm. "I can't skip."

Pierre groans and slings an arm over his eyes. "What am I supposed to do all day?"

"I don't have a sim but I have an old PlayStation you're more than welcome to use. I think I still have one or two games."

"That won't keep me busy."

"I'm sure you'll find something. Just stay out of trouble okay? I'd like to get my security deposit back when I finally move out of this hellhole."

"Okay," Pierre grumbles, sitting up to give you a quick kiss. "What time are you getting back?"

"Four. We can go out to dinner or something." You smooth a hand over his hair, smiling lightly. "Or we can go for a picnic and take a walk through Saint James Park."

"Sounds like a plan." He turns his head to kiss your palm. "I'll be counting down the minutes."

You roll your eyes but your smile contradicts the sass. "I'll be home before you know it. Love you, champion."

"I love you too, mon coeur."

He was endlessly grateful for how easily the two of you had fallen back into each other. When he had shown up at your doorstep he had expected there to be awkward pauses and minutes of tense silence, but there had been blissfully little of either. As the days bleed into each other, your relationship only gets steadier, closer and closer to what it used to be. Maybe it was because you had been the one to break the silence or maybe it was because he had thrown himself into his career into someone's bed- whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. He was simply grateful to be welcomed back into your life. He didn't plan on leaving any time soon.

Pierre allows himself a half hour of lounging in bed before forcing himself to get up and shower. Off weeks were hard; all he wanted to do was rest and recharge but he still had to follow his workout regimen and sleep schedule or he risked falling out of the habit, making it that much harder to get back in the groove come race week.

First order of business: clean the clutter you had shoved in closets and the spare room prior to his arrival the day before. Folding the three baskets of clean laundry took an hour, washing dishes another thirty minutes, and vacuuming the entire flat took twenty. Once the counters are spotless and there isn’t a stray sock to be found, he takes stock of your pantry and notes what staples you were running low on.

Two hours later he trudges back up the three flights of stairs to your apartment, arms laden with reusable bags packed to the gills with food. His legs burn and he's slightly winded from the excursion; at least that could count as his work out for the day.

He's just about to start slicing vegetables for dinner when his phone chimes with a text from his PR agent, Sylvie.

You're supposed to be in an interview now. Where are you?

"Oh shit." He scrambles for his laptop which of course was dead. He manages to plug it in at the dining room table and angle it so the background is mostly neutral, just a band poster framed behind him. He checks his hair before logging into the interview.

"There's the star," the interviewer says, far too chipper to be entirely genuine.

"Sorry, I was having connection issues." He queues up his signature sweetheart smile that gets him out of any squabbles. It works, the woman's irritation melting into a more easy expression.

"Let's just get right into it. Since we're low on time I'll jump right in, if you don't mind."

Pierre leans back. He had an inkling where this was headed. "By all means, please."

"We just saw news of your deal with Christian Horner- if you take seventh in this year's drivers championship, it looks like you're at Red Bull Racing next year. How does that feel after being publicly demoted mid-season in 2019?"

A smirk tugs at Pierre's lips. He had known this exact question was coming. He had debated how to answer it without starting waves and still remaining truthful. If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was his ability to be diplomatic when others may have let their egos get in the way.

"Obviously I'm grateful that Red Bull has recognized the hard work I've been putting in at Alpha Tauri," he starts. "I think I've been able to push the car as far as I can but I still have pace in me, personally. So moving into the Red Bull would let me loose, so to speak, and give me a chance to prove that Red Bull is where I belong."

"Right, you have had quite a spectacular season so far with a race win under your belt and a few podiums for good measure. What do you attribute that success to? Why is it so different now in an Alpha Tauri versus that coveted second Red Bull seat?"

Pierre purses his lips. The answer he was expected to give wasn't one he was willing to voice. Instead he opts for neutral. "I've been able to focus and hone my driving this season. I've found a groove that works for me and with it has come an insane amount of confidence, which is something I struggled with for awhile after going back to Torro Rosso. I think it's really just that I'm finally comfortable in the car and with my team and that makes a huge difference."

"Thank you for that," the journalist says and Pierre nods. "Shifting gears, I have a few questions about your personal life if you don't mind."

This was the part he always dreads. Questions were often prying and he had to subtly skirt around them in a way that offered a satisfying answer without giving away too much. It was an art he liked to think he had perfected over the years but still didn't enjoy.

"As long as you don't mind me staying silent if I don't want to answer."

The woman laughs, the sound sharp and grating. "Of course. Unless I can bribe you into giving me an exclusive."

"Likely not. But you ask the right questions and we'll see."

"You've been seen hanging around a certain London neighborhood lately- that wouldn't have anything to do with you and your lovely lady, would it?"

He had been waiting for that one, too. When the two of you had returned from Red Bull headquarters he had noticed the man taking pictures across the street. He hadn't said anything to you at the time because really, there was no point in getting you worked up when he had a plan to handle it.

The question played right into his hand, in fact. 

Pierre sits forward, folding his hands in front of him. "Actually yes. We recently got back together and if you'll let me, I would like to make a request."

The woman leans back and checks her notes. "Well it's not quite what I had planned but please," she gives a flourish with a hand, "you have the floor."

"I know driver's personal lives are something that a lot of people are interested in and that's great. I don't mind sharing things with my fans or letting them get the inside scoop, but there's some things I would rather be left alone. My relationship is one of them. I know you all took note that she hasn't been around the past couple months and if I'm being honest, it's because of comments and press coverage that invaded her privacy. I think some people forgot she was more than just a name on a screen."

Pen poised to take notes, the interviewer prompts, "You said you had a request?"

He doesn’t stop to assess the damage he had already undoubtedly done. Sylvie was probably already on the phone doing damage control with every news outlet she could get her hands on, if her muted and black square at the bottom of the screen was an indication. 

"All I'm asking is that you leave her alone. If you have questions or comments you have to make, just direct them at me. Don't follow her around asking about me. Don't comment on her posts unless you're capable of being a decent human. Just… let her live her life in peace."

Maybe he was a love sick fool, but honestly he didn't care if he lost some support from fans. If they had such strong opinions on his personal life, he would be better off without them anyway. And his team could cut him and even if he was unable to secure a seat in Formula 1 after next season, he would survive. 

But if he lost you again, he would be broken. It had taken being apart from you for him to realize it and he'd be damned if he was ever disconnected from you like that again.

"That's quite the speech."

Pierre shrugs. "It was. She's the most important thing in my life, right up there with racing.” Now that he had started down the road of truth, he found it impossible to hold his tongue. “I lost her once because people couldn't be bothered to remember that their words have consequences. I won't let it happen again."

"So you see yourself with her for a long time then?" The woman's eyes glitter with the potential of getting an even juicer tidbit from him.

Pierre’s jaw sets, muscles feathering. "That's not something I'm prepared to discuss."

The woman purses her lips and tips her head to the side. There was clearly more she wanted to say. "Well, I have to thank you for what you've given me here. My boss is gonna love the exclusive. I won't push any further. Thanks for your comments, Pierre."

"Thanks for actually being respectful."

“We aren’t all monsters.” The woman shrugs. “I can’t say I haven’t had my moments but I try to be straightforward.”

“Right, yeah. I get that you have a job to do.”

“Anyway. I look forward to seeing what you can do the rest of this season. Good luck.”

He signs off and instantly anxiety washes over him. If she twisted his words he was screwed. Sylvie would be on the phone as soon as the article was printed, no doubt trying to soothe sponsors and investors. She'd give him an earful about being respectful and not poking the bear but he'd tune it out like he always did.

The sooner he got away from Red Bull, the better.

Instead of dwelling on it he busies himself with cooking. It was one of his guilty pleasures. He always requested a full kitchen when he was staying anywhere more than a few days so that if he had the chance to make a home-cooked meal, he had the option. For tonight he had selected his favorite recipe. Parmesan-Cesar chicken wasn't normally something you would ever touch with a ten foot pole but as long as he was making it, Pierre knew you'd at least give it a try.

Music blasting in the background, Pierre sings along quietly as he unpacks the rest of the ingredients and gets to work. He does a little spin between the island and the sink, rinsing the dishes and putting them right in the dishwasher as he uses them. A clean kitchen is the mark of a great chef, his mom had told him, drilling the phrase into him when he was young.

In the middle of cutting potatoes Pierre gets a call. He only has an hour until you're home so he doesn't bother stopping, just puts it on speaker and continues measuring spices.

"Hey Daniel."

"Heard you're in London," Daniel says, Australian accent thick. "And a little birdie told me you and your lady got back together."

"We did," Pierre says, a smile splitting his face. "Finally."

"Thank god, now I don't have to listen to your drunk woe-is-me rambling anymore."

Pierre laughs and sets aside the measuring spoons. "It's not that bad."

"Oh please." Pierre could practically hear the eyes rolling. "The number of times I had to send an uber to a bar after a grand prix is insane. Charles and I should be entitled to financial compensation with the amount of babysitting we've been doing."

"I can handle myself!"

"Not after a martini you can't."

He was right there. "Is there a point to this conversation?"

"Oh right- I'm actually in town today too, got some stuff to shoot for McLaren before we head to Austria for the race next week. You guys wanna come out with us tonight? We're heading to a bar or two."

"I actually had something planned-"

"She already said she's coming!" Dan's girlfriend shouts in the background.

“Well then why even ask me?”

“To be polite,” Daniel offers with a laugh. “We’re meeting at the rooftop bar at the Trafalgar hotel at seven. That give you enough time to do whatever you had planned that’s apparently more important than seeing your best mates?”

“We’ll be there,” Pierre says and hangs up. He finishes seasoning the potatoes and pops them in the oven, finally getting a chance to sit while they cook alongside the main course.

He's on his feet a few minutes later, decluttering the last bits of mess around your flat. It was clear it hadn't had a decent cleaning in quite awhile- hopefully you'd keep it tidy now that the effort had been made. The guys would tease him endlessly if they found out he was acting like a housewife.

You arrive home just as he’s setting the table. “God, it smells amazing in here.”

“Salut, mon amour.” Hands full with hot dishes, he settles for a kiss to your cheek. “I made dinner.”

“And you cleaned,” you observe. “You were a busy boy.”

“Pyry would kill me if he found out I was laying around all day. I had to do something.” 

You hang your backpack on the hook behind the door and take a seat at the table. “Well remind me to thank him again when I see him. This looks delicious.”

Pierre grins over his shoulder at you. “Me or the food?”

You throw your head back and laugh, loud and unrestrained. “The food, you goof.”

Pierre quirks a brow. "Is that the honest answer?"

"Okay, maybe both." 

The meal is filled with your ramblings about your exam and your new hobby- this month it was hiking. You went into detail about all the few trails in the city you’d been on as well as the more challenging ones that dotted the countryside. Pierre just nods along as you talk, already planning on staying up late to learn what he could about the topic so he could be a better conversation partner.

The pair of you work together to tidy the kitchen and put away any leftovers. “Did you bring something semi nice to wear tonight or do we have to make a quick trip to the store?”

“I’ve got some Tauri stuff I can wear. And not just team gear,” he adds when you groan. “You know that cream sweater you love? The one with the logo debossed on the front? I’ve got that.”

“Oh,” you say before biting your lip. Your eyes trail down his frame and back up like you’re imagining it on him. A tingle travels up his spine under your assessing gaze. If you kept that up, neither of you would make it out of the apartment tonight. “My favorite. Yeah, wear that. It’ll be on my floor by the end of the night.”

Pierre places his hands on your waist and grins. “Will it? And what will be on the floor from your closet, hm?”

“Your favorite dress.”

“The orange one?” He realizes half a second too late that you would never know how much he adored that dress from the gala. It had hugged your curves in all the right places and left your back exposed, which would leave him free to trace patterns on your soft skin whenever he pleased. He had missed out on worshipping you in it that night and he wouldn’t mind the opportunity to do so now.

You roll your eyes. “I can’t wear that to a bar.”

“Says who?” Pierre nuzzles his face against your neck, breathing you in. A light undercurrent of sweat from your walk home from classes mingles with the usual bright scent of you, only serving to rile him up further. Never in a million years would he have guessed that a simple scent could do him in, and yet here he was, completely wrapped up in yours. 

“Says me.” You sigh, tipping your head to the side when Pierre’s nose grazes your skin.

His lips follow until he reaches your jaw before he pulls back. “What one are you wearing then?”

“Does it matter?” You cross your arms, the smirk playing on your kissable lips tempting him.

“I have to mentally prepare myself.” And if whatever you chose was too sexy, he would need to get his handsiness out of his system before the pair of you met up with Daniel and his girlfriend. The last thing he needed was to be on the front of some seedy gossip column when his plan was to ease back into it. 

You smile up at him, broad and unrestrained as if knowing your answer would affect him greatly. “The cobalt blue one that makes you stutter.”

The dress in question was just as form fitting as the orange one, but shorter and decidedly more distracting. It fell mid thigh and the spaghetti straps left your shoulders exposed, which coupled with the low back displayed a downright sinful amount of skin. You had worn it at a Torro Rosso event a couple years back and he had scarcely been able to get a full sentence out around you all night. 

“That one’s a close second.” He follows you to your room, leaving you to hunt through the closet while he digs through his suitcase, thankful that he had the foresight to check out of his hotel on the way back from Red Bull and bring his things here.

Because there was no way in hell he was missing a second of being by your side while he was in town. Every moment had to count when he had no idea when he would be able to sleep next to you again, not when the season was nearly over and there were two double headers between now and winter break. When so many variables stood between him and you, he had no problem prioritizing you over a routine workout or a full night’s rest.

Pierre changes into the sweater and a pair of dark skinny jeans well before you emerge from the bathroom. He doesn’t bother responding to Dan’s text that includes an address and reminds him to be on time, instead opting to scroll through his instagram feed. He likes a handful of posts from his fellow drivers, including one of Max actually smiling at something off camera.

“Well?”

Pierre’s head snaps up at the sound of your voice. The phone falls from his hand when he drags his eyes over your body, head to toe and back again. 

Oh, he was so fucked. 

Maybe it was selfish, but with your hair done like that, the barest brush of makeup lining your eyes and in that stunningly blue dress, he didn’t want any other man to have the privilege of laying their eyes on you. 

No, you were all his.

The moment you’re within reach, Pierre places his hands on the back of your thighs, just beneath the curve of your barely covered ass. You chuckle and tap your fingers under his chin. “Close your mouth; you’ll catch flies.”

“Just so you know, if you wear that dress I can’t be held liable for my actions.” Up to and including scaring off anyone that wasn’t Daniel or his girlfriend. No one else deserved to be blessed with your radiance. Hell, he didn’t deserve it, and yet here you stood. 

“We’ll see about that.”

**********

Daniel and his girlfriend had already made their way through a round of drinks by the time you arrive. It wasn’t Pierre’s fault he couldn’t keep his hands off you and wound up getting distracted on the drive over.

"Late as always," she greets, kissing your cheek. "Dan got us here fifteen minutes early because he wanted the table with the best view."

"Like our names wouldn't have gotten us the table if we asked," Pierre says, wrapping Daniel in a one-armed hug before kissing his girl’s cheek in a traditional French greeting. "The view is pretty great though."

You were already leaning on the glass partition, hands curled over the edge and undoubtedly leaving behind fingerprints on the pristine surface, completely unfazed by the fact that the other patrons were staring. You had eyes only for the London skyline and Trafalgar square lit up below. The bar with its white marble tabletops and strict dress code was absolutely not a place that you should be standing on your tiptoes for a better view, but there was no way he could condemn you when your face lit up like that.

Pierre just places a hand on the small of your back and shoots a look at the bartender currently glaring in your direction, daring the smartly dressed man to say anything. He only raises a brow and resumes filling drink orders.

"You guys know how to pick a place," you say, "I could stand here all night."

"Right," Daniel's girlfriend says, rolling her eyes at Pierre who shrugs as if to say what do you want me to do? He was powerless to deny you anything that brought you a semblance of joy; your smile was everything to him. “Love, why don’t you come tell us about uni? You’re the only one of us currently enrolled, and I’m sure the boys would love to hear about all the drama.”

You and Pierre share a secret grin. You shake your head but allow him to guide you back to the cocktail table. “Drama? I’m an engineering major. The closest thing we have to drama is someone grossly miscalculating a structural load.”

Dan shoots Pierre a mischievous grin. “I heard Stroll might be moving next year-”

Both you and Daniel’s girlfriend groan at the same time. “No racing talk when we’re around tonight,” she says. “I’ve heard enough lately.”

“What’s new in the publishing world?” You ask, leaning into Pierre when he wraps an arm around you. He only half listens to her explain the so-called “top secret” project she’s currently working on, instead opting to get drunk on you. 

The light breeze filtering through the surrounding buildings ruffles your hair. You lift a hand absentmindedly to tuck it behind your ear in an attempt to keep it out of your face. Everything you do is amazing to him, snagging his attention even when he should be listening to whatever it was his friends were saying. Your gravity was simply too strong to bother resisting.

“Enough talk,” Daniel’s girlfriend says, waving a hand. “You need a drink, and I want to dance. Let’s go.” Before Pierre can protest, she’s dragging you away to the glass top bar. You throw an apologetic glance over your shoulder and Pierre just winks. He was fine watching you from afar for now.

Pierre’s gaze drops to your perky ass when you lean in to let the bartender know what you want, likely shouting to be heard over the music, your dress riding up a bit with the movement. For having such a strict dress code, this place sure did feel like an upper class club.

You hook your thumb over a shoulder, the bartender’s gaze darting to Pierre before the man nods. The only explanation you offer is a wink, followed by a note on a cocktail napkin and a beer delivered a few minutes later by a server.

This is supposed to be the best beer they have. Just try it.

Leave it to you to constantly push him outside his comfort zone. Pierre tentatively sniffs the foamy glass and shrugs before taking a sip. Not bad, but he still preferred his usual whiskey. 

Setting the glass down, Pierre turns back to Daniel. “Congrats on extending your contract with McLaren by the way. Should give you a decent shot at keeping up with the big boys and landing some serious points.”

“Seems like most of us are moving around, doesn’t it? Sainz to Ferrari, Seb to Aston Martin... The only one with any sort of long term commitment is Max and now me I guess.”

“And Charles,” Pierre adds. “He’s stuck in that red monstrosity for the foreseeable future.”

Daniel laughs, taking a swig from his glass. “And you’re moving too, huh? Austria should be interesting,” Daniel remarks, watching the girls at the bar nursing their own drinks. “What with the news of your new contract breaking and all.”

“Potential contract,” Pierre corrects. “Not for sure yet.”

Daniel scoffs. “Come on mate. You won’t have any problem getting up to seventh by the end of the season. Perez is slipping and the news that his seat is in jeopardy will only help your cause.”

Pierre takes a sip of his amber beer and nods. “I’m sure Perez doesn’t appreciate it, but he’s always been a good sport.” You catch Pierre’s eye and lift your fresh flute of champagne in a mock salute. Dan’s girlfriend drags you out on the dancefloor and immediately spins you. Your laugh is nearly audible, the memory of it fresh in Pierre’s mind as he watches you.

“Mate, have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Daniel shakes his head and drains his drink. “I really don’t know how it took you two this long to come together. You’ve been dancing around each other for years but neither of you would admit it.”

“I could say the same about you two.”

Daniel shrugs. “Fair point. At least we got it all worked out in a weekend though.”

Pierre rolls his eyes and shoves his friend’s shoulder. “Whatever. Not all of us can have a perfect love story.” 

The grin Daniel shoots Pierre is pure sunshine. “How long are you planning on waiting before you ask her to marry you?”

“What?” Pierre sputters, nearly choking on air. “Who said anything about marriage?”

“Oh come on,” Dan says, rolling his eyes. “We all know it’s coming eventually.”

Pierre would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. But he wasn’t sure if it was the time for a proposal, not when you had just gotten back together. The last thing he wanted to do was go through the pain of losing you again because he was too forward.

“One day at a time,” Pierre says finally, dragging himself back to earth. “I just got her back a few days ago. I don't want to scare her off by proposing just yet.”

“Right. Well you might want to get a ring on that hand sooner rather than later,” Daniel notes, gesturing to the two men who had approached the girls. “How long are we gonna let that go on before we step in?” Neither of you paid the men any attention, instead enjoying each other’s company, but the men’s eyes roaming over your body sets Pierre on edge.

“They can handle themselves,” Pierre remarks, shifting on his feet. The weak attempt at self assurance didn’t do much to negate the red tinting his vision. “They’re fine.”

“Her sharp tongue will hold them at bay,” Daniel says, winking at his girlfriend. “For a while at least.” Props to Daniel for possessing inhuman amounts of restraint, but Pierre’s muscles were coiled and ready to interject at the first sign of trouble. 

He has to pause to remind himself he doesn't own you. You could make your own decisions about who you spoke with and who you entertained as long as he was the one to take you home. He didn't care if you wanted to flirt; he knew it meant nothing and if you got a free drink out if it then so be it. But those were the rules: flirting, no touching. He'd step in if need be if someone took it too far.

But that didn't mean he had to enjoy it.

Pierre watches tight lipped as you politely chat with the man, your body language closed off and dismissive. Pierre hates that you even speak a word to him. He knows it shouldn’t bother him because he trusts you, but the stranger is a wild card. Pierre watches like a hawk as the man inches ever closer, slowly interesting himself into your personal space. He waits for you to take a step back, to grant him that silent permission to come over and insert himself in the conversation and get his hands on you, this proving you weren't on the market.

One of the men shouts something at you over the music and you leer back at him, clearly disgusted at whatever he had said. Whirling on him, you open your mouth, likely to snap out a profanity lined retort, when his hand latches onto your arm.

"Oh, fuck no."

Half a second later, Pierre is stalking across the dance floor, no thoughts other than teaching the asshole a lesson. His hands are already curled into fists, ready to swing if the man hadn't moved by the time he arrived. Tolerating someone hitting on you was one thing, but blatantly ignoring the clear dismissals and laying a hand on you? No way in hell was he standing by and letting that happen.

The resounding crack of your open hand hitting the man’s face has pride swelling in Pierre’s chest. That’s my girl. You’d solved the problem before he’d even arrived. You jab a finger in the man’s face, Daniel’s girlfriend right there with you to back you up.

“Fuck off,” you were saying as Pierre approached, “or do you need to go back to kindergarten and learn to keep your hands to yourself? Maybe next time you’ll think twice before laying a hand on a taken woman- or any woman, for that matter.”

Driving your point home, Pierre slips an arm around your waist and pulls you in until your back is flush to his chest. You crane your neck up, the tense muscles beneath his fingertips and the fury contorting your features confirming just how rattled you are.

The lines creasing your brow are soothed away when you realize who holds you. You open your mouth to say something but Pierre places a hand on your throat, thumb and forefinger framing your jaw as he cuts you off with a kiss, his eyes locked on the guy still standing off to the side holding his cheek. 

You taste like the champagne you’d been sipping all night. It’s the only thought in his head outside of the jealousy licking through his veins like wildfire as he claims you then and there in front of the crowd. Mine, his heart sings. He flexes his fingers, taking advantage of your surprised gasp to slide his tongue against yours. Mine, mine, mine.

Pierre lets you be the one to break away, lips curling in a smug, kiss-swollen smile as you address the men. “In case you still don’t get the picture, I’m not interested. And neither is she.” You jerk your chin, indicating your friend and Daniel, who had indeed followed Pierre and since mirrored his possessive stance, one arm wrapped tightly around his own girlfriend.

The two men reluctantly slink away after mumbling something unintelligible but undoubtedly indecent. It had been a week and a half since he had been on track and he had plenty of pent up aggression to get out. He didn’t normally opt for using someone’s face as a punching back as a stress reliever, but rulers were made to be broken. Your hand splayed on Pierre’s chest is all that stops him from following and asking them to repeat themselves.

“Just let me hit him,” Pierre says, voice far more level and put together than he had expected it to be. “Just one punch. That’s all I would need.” His knuckles smart like he had already connected them to the man’s face. 

“And let you throw away your contract? I don’t think so. The last thing you need is a blurry photo of you knocking someone’s teeth in hitting the front page of every gossip mag in the country. I’m fine, so you can cut the bravado.”

“Yeah, I hear you.” 

“I was wondering how long you were gonna leave us out here,” you say, trying to regain Pierre’s attention. When it doesn’t work, you grasp his stubbled chin and force him to look at you. “I didn’t expect to be stranded for so long.”

The eye contact is what finally calms his racing thoughts. Seeing the trust reflected in your face is enough to have his grip on your waist loosening to allow you to face him. “Someone convinced me you could fend for yourself. And while it seems that’s true, I couldn’t stand it anymore.” 

Your satisfied hum is swallowed by the pounding bass but Pierre feels it rumble in his chest. “Sometimes even a queen needs saving.”

Though his point had long since been proven, Pierre’s hand slides down your back to rest on your ass nonetheless. “I knew you going out looking like this would cause trouble.”

You tip your head to the side, feigning innocence as you press your hips to his. You grin, noticing the hard on that had been bothering him all night. “Looking like what?”

“Drop dead fucking gorgeous,” he says, accentuating his point by sliding his hand up your thigh and under the hem of your dress. “You know I’m tearing this off you the second we get home, right?”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

The sound that escapes him is primal and possessive. The presence of bystanders does nothing to prevent him from palming your ass and kneading the flesh. He presses his lips to your neck and mumbles between kisses, “To torture me.”

You push lightly at his chest, laughing although your eyes dart around the space in search of cameras. Old habits were hard to break. “That may have been part of my motivation. But you’ll have to wait. I haven’t seen Dan in forever and I would actually like to have a conversation with him before we sneak off somewhere.”

At least you knew he wouldn’t be able to wait until you got home to get between your legs. “Fine,” he grumbles, hands settling on your hips. “Only because I love you.”

You beam up at him. “Love you too.”

Arm still slung around your waist, Pierre nods at Daniel and follows the other couple back to the table.

After two more drinks, you and Daniel's girlfriend are singing along to the music in lilting, off key voices, simply enjoying the night air. A stray breeze catches your hair just as you turn to look at Pierre and his heart damn near leaps out of his chest.

To his credit, Pierre’s cheeks are rosy from more than just the charged glances you throw at him as the night wears on. He was on his fourth beer, far more than he usually drank these days, and the buzzing in his head was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. When he has to squint to tell the time on his watch, he figured that was enough.

"I should probably get going mate," Pierre says, turning to Daniel. "Early flight."

Daniel laughs and beacons for the girls. He kisses his girlfriend's cheek when she returns with you in tow. "Are we leaving already?" You pout, and Pierre had half a mind to stay simply have your smile make an encore appearance.

"Car coming," he murmurs, dipping his head to give you a proper kiss. God, you were stunning in that dress- he might not be able to string together words coherently, but he knew that much. 

"Fine." You cross your arms for a split second to convey your feelings on the matter before wrapping your friends in a hug and saying your goodbyes.

Pierre's hand is already on your ass before you're in the uber. Get a few drinks in the boy and he let his guard down. You laugh and pull out of his embrace to usher him into the sleek black suv. If he had been coherent, he probably would have chatted with the driver about the specs of the engine or maybe even racing if he was a fan. Instead the ride is filled with stolen touches and sloppy, wet kisses to your neck.

"I can't wait till we're home," he mumbles. "You're gorgeous. How did I snag you? You're so far out of my league. No way should you be with me."

"I have a thing for guys that go fast in circles on the weekends." 

"Really?" Pierre frowns. "Should I be worried?"

"No. You're the only one I have eyes for." His head is fuzzier than when you left the bar but your laugh breaks through, his stomach flipping at the melody of it. "And we are home."

Pierre blinks, realizing he does indeed stand in your kitchen, with no recollection of climbing the three flights of stairs between the street and your flat. "Oh. When did that happen?"

"After I half dragged you up the stairs." You bend over to undo the straps of your heels, giving him the perfect view. He lets out a whistle that ends in a hiccup.

"Take me to bed, lover," he says in what he thinks is a husky voice. It should be impossible for you to resist.

You roll your eyes and wrap an arm around his middle. "That's the plan. I'll take you to bed, strip you out of that sweater, and you'll be asleep before your head hits the pillow."

"Nnnnnno," he protests, hand sliding down your exposed back to settle at the base of your spine. "I wanna make the most of tonight. I leave tomorrow."

"You don't leave until noon," you point out. "Plenty of time to nurse your hangover and have fun before then, after you drink some water and get some sleep."

"But baby-"

"No buts. Do as I say or I'll send you off tomorrow without a goodbye kiss."

Even in his half drunken state he knew it was a swiss cheese lie, spotted with holes and completely stale. You'd never let him leave without a kiss goodbye because neither of you knew if it would be the last time. He was a race car driver after all, and that came with risks. 

But he sighs anyways and slips off the cream sweater, letting it fall to the floor. At least one of you kept their promises. 

After confirming he was settled into bed, you retreat to the bathroom. His heart aches at the absence, even though you're mere feet away with nothing but a thin door separating the two of you. He registers the sound of the tap turning on and your soft, off key humming of the last song he remembered hearing before getting out of the uber.

"Mon amour," he croons when you re-emerge in a set of silk pajamas. He reaches out his hands for you and you slide under the covers, immediately slotting your body against his. A leg hitches over his hip, tugging him closer until your middles touch.

"Mmm," he mumbles, nuzzling into your neck. "Je t'aime. Tu es l'amour de ma vie et nous vivons d'amour et d'eau fraîche."

"I have no idea what you're saying," you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. "But I like it. Feel free to keep going."

"Tes baisers sont du feu et je fond à ton toucher." He presses his lips to your neck before resuming his mumbled French. "Je pense toujours à toi. Je veux être avec toi pour toujours. Tu as mon cœur et je ne voudrais pas qu'il en soit autrement."

"I like the sound of that." You press a soft, sweet kiss to his forehead. God, that tenderness was why he loved you. That, and your personality, and your eyes, and your… everything. "Dormir, my love. I'll be here to listen to your pretty words in the morning."

The single word of his mother tongue on your lips has him smiling. "Oui, tu le feras. Parce que tu es à moi et je suis à toi."

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max​ @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz

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[lewyn-martell]

@succ-season-3-when answer to this post, because it’s getting too long and my answer is long enough already skjndksjns sorry for taking my sweet time, these were long days this week. my answer about roman turned out to be a lot and i'm sorry, it wasn't even the original topic, but i guess i just love him too much.

So yeah, for all of Roman's occasional good instincts, I would say that he seems to be the one who's the least capable of the 3, and Shiv's been on the job for 4 months at most with no prior experience. He keeps wanting to say "fuck it" for everything that threatens Logan's dominance and, for all that sometimes it's a big dick competition, that also implies sometimes it's very much NOT, but Roman's responses all range from "no, let's not cooperate, fuck the DOJ, fuck Kendall, fuck Sandy and Stewy, my dad knows best and he's invincible" to occasionally sucking the dick his dad isn't willing to (or someone else. It's always someone else's plan that he tags along). The good part is that he can be charming when he isn't in his moods, swinging his little dick around, showing his mean streak or high as a kite on power he has no idea what to do with, because it's only a symbolic thing known as the Logan Currency – which is, of course, tied to the kids' distorted sense of self-worth.

I know some people might have been appalled at me calling Shiv more capable than him, but this is a man who panicked by receiving e-mails on his first day of a position he should be theoretically ready to take but chose instead to jack off for a window view power trip. What weight has he actually put forth by himself that isn't trying to tank a giant turkey movie, upstaging his siblings, or a failed attempt of contact with Naomi Pierce? Not only the rocket launch but both his plans of acquiring local tv stations for his dad and that football team as a gift were failures that mostly could have been easily avoided. Say what you will about Shiv but she is present and on since moment 1. The girl has no experience and no chill, but she is still over there, discussing strategy, expressing her views and plans, trying to be included and have a voice, and going to the moon and back to do her part (all the while battling against her dad's waver and lack of support, which leads to her trying to do too much to not be sidelined etc) and get that sweet sweet power rush and validation, while Roman patiently waits for it to fall on his lap as a gift from his dad or fucks up one thing or other on the way when he does try to make a move because he doesn’t care enough to think things through (or is too scatter-brained, your pick).

There is the management training, though, and, god bless his horny soul, actually listening to a competent executive with 30 plus years of experience, but I mean, that did not stop him from having every single wrong Logan-fueled instinct this season. Are those upsides really showcasing any significant leadership skills on his part? Emulating Logan will only take him so far without his dad's... let's say gift because I cannot unpack Logan's workstyle right now.... for business (which obviously none of the kids have). He seems to be at his best when he's pairing up with Gerri professionally speaking – brainstorming and making plans together. Her guiding him, basically – and I think I can see him developing more prudence and even coming to like and truly understand what he does, but that is only if he doesn't stray which we're all pretty sure he will. And I said all that while not even tackling the million dollar question yet: do we really think he actually wants the CEO job that much?? I honestly have no reason to believe he is driven enough for it on itself. It was an interesting thing you said, that he isn't willing to compete for it, and I don't know exactly how much I would agree with that when he's been told to go for it his whole life with prospects of respect and acceptance and love and he doesn't even fully understand why he wants it, but he still does want it in theory (only for what it represents... which is why I always say I don’t think he truly wants it. He doesn’t even think he’s ready for it and that could be a symptom of a lot more). BUT how much does him wanting it will make him actually clean (or dirty even more) his act and cross lines for it? (S03E03 seemed to answer that for now.) Being on his dad's good side feels like his permanent m.o. (until a stronger player influences and covets him like Kendall did mid-season 1 to drag him to his side) and honestly, does dad even want him to succeed at all? (And thus, will doing only what his dad wants actually help with anything?) Are the things he's good enough at (doing what he's told with some nice people skills at times and staying on Logan's good side) only good for being a Logan follower or a true and competent administrator and leader of the world's 5th largest media conglomerate?

And here comes exactly what you said about Logan not even truly wanting to properly, if not groom, but at least incentivize the necessary traits for the job to have a worthy successor, something that goes far beyond blind loyalty and aggressive business strategies and I'm sure that man must know it because he is oh so disappointed in his kids all the time boohoo. He wants the kids to figure all out for themselves all while he clips their wings at every turn, resents them for the opportunities he didn't have, and says nothing and does nothing about their delusional bullshit that came with it ("I'm sorry you're a hothouse flower" LMAO he knows he's indulgent of their worst traits but never did and doesn't ever intend to do anything about it both because it's kinda how he shows care and pride of what he can provide to his family and maybe it also makes him feel superior and still at the top since his only true opponents in his mind – this is a family company – his kids, are spoiled and sheltered and screwed in the head by money). Now will any of his kids see that? Has even Kendall properly seen it when he is still motivated by "you're not a killer, you have to be a killer" and his dad's approval? What you said about seeing their father for what he really is could do a lot for it, and both Kendall and Shiv seem to be in a position where that could happen, even though Kendall so far has been doing a not so incredible job on his own.

Speaking of, I don't know if I would say he is doing more coordinated moves this season than in s1. His chances at both strategies were more than pretty good, they were basically done deals that only fell through for unforeseeable extreme situations. This season he seems to only have thought of 3 steps: implicate Logan, assemble a good team, and then something will happen and he will get the company in a good enough shape to run without burning himself. What I will say though is that his second attempt in season 1 was riskier than the first one since he was depending on Sandy and Stewy who would most likely fuck him later (the Canadians don't like you, bro... sdkjnskjnskjn). But I don't see his chances being that much better now... He is lost in a moral crusade ignoring his lawyer's wishes to keep playing mind games with his family instead of focusing on the music. BUT props to him for getting his dad to step down kankjsan I don't know if Logan comes back from that given the circumstances. As for Shiv and whether Logan's playing her or not... I think in a sense he is always playing her as he would do with any heir apparent (throw them around, test them endlessly, up the resentments, make them doubt themselves at every turn and undermine their position), but she is also closer than she could ever be with only Roman (and Connor I guess lmao) to compete, and the nature of that attention might make her or break her from the inner circle, and I'm excited about both prospects while fervently praying for any kind of KenShiv interaction.

About Tom and Shiv's marriage... I have to say I truly don't know what I expect... But my hunch would be that if not, certainly, for the love they might still feel for one another, they could make it work by rearranging what their marriage truly means for them, how much it is needed in their lives and how far they're willing to go to keep those benefits in face of everything that's happening to them this season. I completely agree both Ken and Shiv are the type to choose the Waystar way of life over their loved ones, but unlike Rava, Tom is very much involved in it, with a lot of prospects at stake (not to mention his own lawbreaking neck) and sure, ending it is the logical path this seems to be walking towards, but well... Are Tom's ambitions and rich life that unimportant to him to prioritize his mental wellbeing and file for a divorce? Even if he plans to tank Shiv, Logan&Co to save himself... What's next for him, then? The position he has been so carefully constructing is over and done, and I certainly don't see him as the man who longs for a quiet life with lots of love in a farm instead of a rich executive from the Roy family like a lot of people seem to. And I would not see him staying with Shiv as him breaking his back to reap the benefits while mean bitch Shiv makes his life miserable... This is an unpopular opinion, but I do believe that, even though in a lesser degree than the way they need each other, they also still want each other. (I would not be that sad to see it go, though akjnkjsan I love my failmarriage but I'm on board for everything in this show.)

And oh yeah, I will always treasure the phone call "hey sis, I'll throw you a bone / puppet master out" and I completely agree that in that moment Kendall at least did trust her to do her part and get that deal going for the good of the company, and even though she's pissed at him, she trusted him enough to listen to him. I also thought Shiv's tone in "I don't wish to receive these calls anymore" was sooo funny too nskjndskjnd they really make the fucked up sibling energy pop out of their interactions, no matter how fractured they are.

I haven't seen much of the subreddit, but I have definitely seen enough to agree with you and just want to stay the fuck away. Even some tumblr takes about Shiv sometimes give me a headache, I think I would snap HARD if I spent any amount of time in that place beyond the few minutes I do when I have a specific topic that's easier to find and have more people's inputs and such. I’m not holding my breath for anyone out there outside of our Shiv circle to actually give a shit about her character journey and her traumas and feelings etc. because people consistently just hate her.

[ninjagirlstar5]

YEAH, it's quite funny looking back on that. It was something of a gradual change over time due to Hiro originally being an OC for...

Sighs.

...Five Nights At Freddy's.

Listen, she was created all the way back in high school when the fourth game came out and my friend brought me into his online friend's FNAF AU, and it just spiraled from there as we went crazy with the lore and made a TON of OCs for the series. A lot of which didn't really fit FNAF in general as we really went ham on the supernatural aspects like ghosts, angels, and demons and stuff, plus a few sci-fi elements thrown into the mix. And with how often the lore kept getting updated and changed with each installment in the series (and franchise), we were constantly adjusting a bunch of stuff in our stories for the AU.

We were (mostly) cringe-free back then, and I'll admit, I'm still attached to a lot of the ideas we came up with back then (hell, I still like FNAF). That being said, at this point in my life, I've been thinking on separating my OCs from FNAF altogether, mostly cause the lore we've come with doesn't really fit the FNAF world anymore as the stories we had listed out as planned (but never got around to finishing or even starting) started straying further and further away from the original appeal of the series, which is, "Security guard works at a kids' pizzeria which turns out to have haunted animatronics of dead children cause there was a serial killer back in the 1980s" thing. We got so wrapped up in the lore and certain elements that the animatronics just almost never appeared in a lot of these story ideas, except for, like, two of them, and just loosely tying in other canon characters.

With that context outta the way...I do have posts on Hiro. The thing is, though, this was from a time where I barely used Tumblr to share my own stuff, just liking and reblogging other people's posts. So it turned out I only had...two posts on Hiro. And that's from the Random-Questions-Fairy that I came across and liked and reblogged for some OC questions.

The first is about, "Does this character has pets or would like a pet?"

The second one being, "What kind of situation would your OC be willing to compromise on their values/morals?" (The third reason isn't wholly accurate anymore since I've been thinking over on what should be changed and such, especially since I want to separate Hiro's story from FNAF, so the context of the situation may end up quite different. It's still loosely accurate to her situation, but still.)

Also, I did actually write and post a fic on Hiro and her trauma back in 2022, I just completely forgot about it until now. Oops. It's kinda old now, especially since the few times her physical appearance is touched upon, it's based on her old design as I had given her a new one now. And I feel like if I were to write this scene into a story, I might change it, but I dunno. I haven't reread it in a long while. But if you want an idea of Hiro's story in the FNAF AU we made, there it is.

These were the only posts I've ever shared on Hiro, two on Tumblr, one on AO3. Honestly, I wished I talked about her a bit more, I still love her a lot, but I've always been nervous about talking about her and her lore due to her ties with FNAF. And also cause, well, my fixation on FNAF has waned quite a bit and SDRA2 basically dropkicked it into the far reaches of my mind. (I still think about it every now and then, but that did affect how I think about Hiro - which is, not as much as I used to.) But since you asked, I might as well take the opportunity to talk about her more and what her story would be like without FNAF in the picture.

Her full name is Hiroko Arai, and she was born in America. As a Japanese-American, her parents decided to give her a Japanese name so that she'd have ties to her culture. It's probably spelled with the Kanji, "to forgive, to pardon" and "child, offspring, young, junior, small thing", while Arai can either mean "new well" or "new residence" depending on spelling (I went with "new residence" as the spelling). Her friends and family all call her by her nickname, Hiro. The meta-reason why Hiro ended up with a Japanese name is because I was a lot more obsessed with anime back in high school. ^^;

Hiro has Time powers alongside her brother, which she inherited from her father and grandfather. Neither of which were actually human, but rather supernatural creatures of a higher being. The grandfather had initially come down to the mortal realm to fix some issues with the timeline as someone had restricted many possibilities of what could happen and had to be stopped (basically the backstory for an overarching story), even going as far as to create Hiro's father, but they never figured out a solution. The grandfather and the father had a bad relationship to the point that he cut ties with him, but he had mentioned him before to his wife, which came in handy when he had ended up passing away suddenly due to a car crash and the family needed a place to stay so she chose to take a risk. While the grandfather didn't fully understand what they did wrong, they had tried to be better for their son's family, and ended up having a much more amicable relationship with their grandkids. Tomomi (explained below) still found them unnerving at times.

The flat cap Hiro wears (pictured below) was her grandfather's. She was the closest to them and loved learning about clocks and their ideas on time and such. She never would've guessed that they were trying to help prepare her with her powers without forcing it onto her, as even if they were to remain dormant for the rest of her life and never were to realize that she had it, it would always be a part of her. She got her flat cap after her grandfather's mortal vessel expired ("passed away" in human eyes).

Hiro has a twin brother named Tomomi, which is spelled with the Kanjis, "wisdom, intelligence, knowledge" and "snake, serpent" ("智巳"). While their personalities were quite different from each other, Hiro being far more emotionally open, kinder and eager to play while Tomomi was more withdrawn, a loner, and far more quiet as he buries himself in his books, they were rarely seen apart. If one is not seen without the other, it's usually assumed that they were nearby but doing their own thing. Hiro and Tomomi bicker a lot, but were always the first to protect and support one another as they deeply love each other as siblings. Hiro always called Tomomi, "Tomo."

They were only ten-years-old when they were murdered, Tomomi poisoned with his body tossed into a river and Hiro having walked in on the scene of the crime, running into the forest in a panic and getting killed there via blunt force trauma. Tomo was found only twenty-four hours after his death. Hiro was found a year later by some hikers, her body haphazardly buried in the dirt.

Their deaths was when they found out about their time powers as the emotional pain of death made Tomomi unwittingly turn back time. However, since they were half-human, their time powers weren't as strong as their father's or even their grandfather's, so they were only able to go back one hour. This results in a time loop as Tomomi desperately tries to save himself, and eventually, Hiro. She didn't even realize what had happened at first until things started repeating over and over again and, due to retaining her memories of each loop thanks to having the same powers and awareness as her brother, tried to help save him as well. But due to the constraints of their powers, they were unable to escape their Fates, and kept dying over and over, and over again. The two of them end up giving up at some point, with Hiro being the first to give up and try and accept her death while leaving some kind of evidence behind for the authorities to capture their killer, while Tomomi took the longest as he was determined to not lose what he had...but eventually snapped and just let himself be killed.

Unfortunately, their pain doesn't end there as they end up becoming ghosts. Ghosts come into existence once someone has died, usually when they have a grudge to settle or some kind of unfinished business to attend to. The former usually happens when someone is killed in an uncommon way (murder) and the victim was aware of what happened to them or if they had beef with a living person upon their death and feel as if they deserved to finish what they started before moving on. The latter usually happens a person dies but still has some kind of final wish or even just wants to protect someone they loved. Many ghosts will move on with a bit of time or accomplishing their goals, but others get stuck in the mortal realm when they're unable to emotionally process what had happened. (This is usually when an Exorcist comes in to help the ghosts come to terms with their death, appeases their souls, and even help them with their goals...if it's morally sound, anyways.) Both of them were in pain for dying the way that they did, but Hiro was a bit more willing to move on as she just wanted some peace. Tomomi, who was broken and filled with resentment, is convinced that he's stuck like this, and doesn't even want to move on, not until he gets on their killer. Hiro is uncomfortable with her brother's change in behavior (she never saw and fully understood how desperate he was to survive their killer due to the time constraints of just trying to escape together and live), but chooses to stay by his side and support him.

Hiro and Tomomi's relationship starts to deteriorate over time, as while they both have the same trauma with experiencing their deaths over and over and over again through the time looping, neither of them are handling it very well, but ESPECIALLY Tomomi. He's become obsessed with getting revenge, trying to track him down through any means necessary, and he just keeps taking things too far to the point that people get hurt. Hiro tries to get him to stop but he won't listen, even snapping at her a few times for getting in his way. This comes to a point when Tomomi accidentally gets someone killed, which shocks both of them. But Tomomi, his soul having become tainted, tries to justify it to himself, saying that they merely got in the way, but Hiro snaps at him as they're LITERALLY dead, Tomomi! They...They caused that, Hiro having shown some taint on her as well for her minor role in the situation. This sparks an argument where Tomomi ends up talking over Hiro and proclaiming that if she's acting this way, then she can't possibly understand what he's going through, the pain and suffering he's felt for just losing his life over and over again! If accepting their death means letting go of their murderer, then he wants no part in it! Hiro is hurt by this, quietly biting back that yes, she does understand, because she's been put through the same thing he did. She just doesn't want other innocent people to lose their lives on this path of revenge. Tomomi wonders if they're even innocent, but eventually apologizes for snapping at her. Hiro apologizes as well, though, saying that she didn't meant to start an argument. Tomomi quietly begs her to stay, as he doesn't want to be alone so long as he remains as a ghost. Hiro is, again, uncomfortable...but continues to stay with him as he's her brother. Of course she can't leave him alone like this. However, their relationship doesn't improve from here as Tomomi continues to go down his path of destruction, Hiro struggling between supporting him and stopping him, but unable to choose between either. Hiro feels as though she can't speak up, and the few times she does, Tomomi ignores her or brushes her off, saying that once the killer is gone, things will go back the way it was before. Hiro, after watching another person die before her eyes, can only hope so numbly.

The Taint is basically what happens when a ghost does something immoral to another living being, causing harm to them in some way. Destroying relationships, driving someone insane, getting someone injured, or killing someone have different levels of taint but ultimately lead to one ending if the taint gets to a certain point the soul can't handle: the transformation of a Demon. There are at least two types of demons: one that is naturally formed from Hell and defined by a certain type of sin (ex. Pride, Greed, Wrath, etc.), or one where the soul of a ghost can no longer contain the taint in their thin forms and bursts, a shadow of their former selves as they go searching for more prey to feast upon. Young demons will usually go after any stray ghosts they come across as they are often easier prey than a human, who have far more protections to use against them, especially if they're able to resist any of their temptations. But older demons are far more dangerous as they're able to slip through the cracks of human society and manipulate a human into doing certain things that make them more vulnerable as time progresses, sucking away their energy until they can no longer resist and leaves them open for death. Many of these older demons have some kind of power that makes it easier for them to gain souls. This is why it's important exorcise both demons and ghosts, to keep people safe and to prevent a ghost's soul from being lost to the Taint.

There were other victims like Hiro and Tomomi, ones they sometimes came across during their journey they've been tracking down. However, they had never met the ghosts of these victims, either because they lacked the awareness of being murdered, wandered away from the location of their death, or just passed on over time. Hiro always tries to leave some kind of gift behind so they can rest in peace.

Hiro comes across a doll, one that seemed to have been tossed to the side, and decides to take it with them. After many years of trying to find their killer, she had grown used to her ghostly powers like teleportation, possession, and even telepathically carrying items. Hiro and Tomomi have grown very distant with each other over time, as Tomomi has become more toxic, clingy, and controlling of his sister, unwilling to let her leave his sight lest she ran into a demon and gets her soul taken. It's not an unfounded fear in this world, but he's not giving her any freewill on the matter, which makes it harder and harder for her to speak up on her feelings. But with the doll she has now, Hiro starts to talking to it in private, giving herself an outlet to let out all of her pent up emotions. She's desperate for a friend or even an adult she can rely on, someone that would support her and love her as she tries to cope from the stress of her watching people die, watching her brother become someone he's not, someone twisted and destructive. This continues for a long while until Hiro starts to break down a little, holding the doll close as the energy of her own soul brightens, begging for someone to help her. This imbues the doll with parts of her soul, and since Hiro was a half-human, it ends up being a very powerful one. One that transforms the doll into a tall, gangly being with strings attached. Hiro is shocked to see this, but since the being was imbued with Hiro's desire for a friend and an authority figure to rely on, they're quick to reassure her that everything is alright, having inherited traits that Hiro has perceived in the adults she grew up with: her mother's intelligence, her father's compassion, and even her grandfather's perseverance. The being proclaims itself to be Hiro's Guardian, and while Hiro doesn't necessarily understand what that means, she knew that she now has a friend to rely on and immediately clings to them. They play with her, recalling long forgotten childhood stories Hiro has heard to her, and give her a listening ear. Hiro has a good time, and even when her brother comes back from surveying the area, she greets cheerfully with her new friend, a jarring display if Tomomi ever saw one since he hasn't...seen her so happy in so long. He questions who the doll is, and they simply explain themselves to be Hiro's Guardian, willing to extend that same title to Tomomi as they are siblings. Tomomi is still suspicious but Hiro reassures him that they didn't offer any kind of contract, they just simply...came into being from the doll Hiro had. Tomomi isn't sure that that alone can be trusted, but decides that it doesn't matter now and tells Hiro to follow him. She reluctantly agrees, as she had hoped that Tomomi would at least get to know their new friend, which they simply reassure her that he may come around with time. For now, they ask her to give them a name, and Hiro thinks on it before settling on Mari. Hiro cannot remember how to do Kanji due to it being so many years, but she believes it can mean "Truth," "Reason," or "Love." Mari accepts their new name and shapeshifts back into their doll form so Hiro can hug them as they leave. They spend most of their time together, and even when Tomomi is at his worse, Mari is always there to help Hiro process her emotions, although due to being created from a part of Hiro's soul, they struggle to confront Tomomi themselves to get him to stop, especially as a part of them knows that they would do anything to protect these kids and struggle to wrap their head around Tomomi hurting Hiro. They're basically a young adult that doesn't really have much experience in dealing with children despite loving them a lot. But Hiro doesn't mind. She's just relieved to finally have a friend after feeling so lonely. Ha, lonely...she was never lonely around Tomomi but nowadays...she's not even sure she knows him.

Circling around to the concept of Guardians, Guardians are basically people that have passed onto the AfterLife, and are assigned to be a living mortal's support and protector. Usually Angels, people that have gone to Heaven for going above and beyond to help other people, are assigned to be Guardians, sometimes for a relative, sometimes for a stranger. But it's not uncommon for Lost Souls, people that have lived average lives and weren't exactly good or bad, in Purgatory to be assigned as Guardians as well, as a way to help them come to terms with their deaths, lack of purpose, and eventually bring them closer to being accepted into Heaven. It's almost unheard of for souls from Hell to become Guardians but if one were to try and reform, it is an option...but only for those that weren't reprehensible enough to get stuck in the lowest levels, as not everyone is allowed a chance for redemption depending on their record. These people are not necessarily demons, but due to how they have lived their lives when they were alive, harming others and perhaps even destroying lives, they are given far more restrictions as a Guardian, and that's only if they pass the test on whether or not they're genuine in trying to do better. Those on the lowest levels aren't even given chance due to how vile of a person they are...and they don't even want to change either. These types of Guardians are very rare...but it happens. Occasionally. Not just anyone become a Guardian, even as an Angel and a Lost Soul, as those who are more weak-willed may succumb to taint, even after giving a protective seal on their souls. They're also given permission to use certain powers if it will help them protect their mortal better. Mari, however, is a type of Guardian that can sometimes manifest in someone's time of need, usually in a beloved object they hold dear, and while Guardians don't usually protect the dead (they're meant to protect mortals, after all), if a ghost were to imbue an object with a desire like Hiro did, they would still be bound to protect that dead person. These Guardians are also ones ones that would take the initiative to protect that person but lack the seal to protect themselves from the Taint as they form outside the bounds of the ones that enforce how a Guardian is chosen, so it's generally frowned upon since they can be just as dangerous as a loose ghost or even a demon. So, not only did Hiro create herself a Guardian as a ghost, she accidentally broke a taboo in the process. Oops.

Demons also have their own versions of being "Guardians" through Contracts. They try to offer a human, usually a vulnerable one, a deal: they can give them this, so long as they're willing to offer them their soul by the time they accomplish their goal or when the contract expires. The demon will then support and protect them as they give the human power to accomplish what they need to do. Taking a demon's deal never ends well, as this is one of the first steps a demon will take to convince a human to commit atrocities throughout the duration, a slippery slope that gets harder and harder to pull yourself out of the more you're willing to bend your morals. And by the end of the contract, the Demon will take your soul, leaving an empty husk of your body behind. You may not even get to experience the rewards of what you've accomplished, but many humans think they can outwit a demon by reaping the rewards and then trying to get rid of them as soon as it's all done. This always seem to backfire as humans have already signed away their soul on those contracts, bound to give them up regardless of whether or not they want to back out. There is no way out, and an exorcists' advice is to ALWAYS never listen to a demon and run away while you still can. However, there are rumors of humans that have managed to accomplish turning the tables against a demon, but there doesn't seem to be any evidence of that ever happening. At least, for now...

Back to Hiro, their little group has come across many people as they search for their killer, but this was the first time they've come across an exorcist. The exorcist was clearly on a mission, asking them what they're final wishes are. Hiro doesn't get to answer as Tomomi brushes the exorcist off, saying that it's none of her business. The exorcist sighs, simply saying that she can help them move on and wrap up their final business. They don't have to keep tainting themselves anymore. But Tomomi doesn't believe her and tells her to go away, which only prompts the exorcist to shrug and say, "Suit yourselves. It took a long time to find you kids, I even spent all my down payment trying to keep up with you for weeks. But I have a job to finish, and if I have to do this by force...well, you're better off in the AfterLife. Trust me." And immediately attacks. This surprises both of them but Mari immediately jumps to defend them as their Guardian, shocking the exorcist but laughing along as she seems happy to get a bit of a challenge. It wasn't a very long fight...but it was one that Hiro didn't forget as Mari, in the snap of their fingers, freezes time for a few seconds and brutally cuts the exorcist with their strings. Hiro is shocked to realize that Mari has the same powers as them (due to them having a part of her soul) and watches as the exorcist goes down but is still alive. She cusses as she admits out loud that she had underestimated them. Mari goes to give the final blow, but before Hiro could even step in and beg Mari not to do this, she would never want this, the exorcist pleads for them to wait. They stop, ready to pounce at any moment, but giving her the time of day, even when Tomomi comes over to tell them to kill her, now. The exorcist laughs, saying that she was lucky that she had come prepared on more than one level before grunting as she pulls out an object: clear jeweled brooch, one that gave off a strange eeriness to everyone in the vicinity. The exorcist offers a deal: if she gives them this Brooch of Life, they'll let her go and she won't go after them anymore. Tomomi questions if she would keep her end of the deal and she simply replies, "Do I even have a choice? Just take this brooch and you'll be able to walk with the living again. Although I'll admit, I have no idea what effects it'll have on a ghost." They all exchange looks before Mari carefully takes the brooch from the exorcist before quickly backing away. When Mari proclaims that this is actually legit, the exorcist immediately drops a smoke bomb that explodes upon contact, quickly making her getaway. Mari almost goes after her but Hiro actually stop them. She's gravely injured, and didn't attack them like she said she would. They should let her go and follow their goals. Tomomi agrees, taking the brooch from Mari without a word but not putting it on. As they follow after him, Hiro tells Mari not to do that again. Mari says that it's their duty as their Guardian to protect her and they will do everything in their power to make sure she's never harmed again. They have seen what's been done to her through her memories, the repeated deaths, the lack of closure for her family as the police lose track of her own killer. They won't let any of that happen to her ever again, the taint all over their hands. Hiro is disturbed...but ends up letting it slide, simply asking them to promise to be more careful going forward. If they're going to be her guardian, she doesn't want them to kill unless they absolutely have to. They promise.

They finally track down their killer, Tomomi confronting them by making himself more visible to his eyes. Luckily, he is very sensitive to the supernatural, allowing him to both sense and see Tomomi, and Hiro without much effort. Since Mari has always been a doll at their core, they're pretty much visible as is. Tomomi corners their killer, demanding that he dies a miserable death like theirs. The killer laughs, saying that they have no idea why he did what he did, but he won't tell them since it's already too late. He's accomplished his goals and there's nothing they can do about it. This confuses Hiro but Tomomi doesn't care, trying to attack the killer on the spot. Mari, however, stops him, saying that he doesn't seem to care at all that they've tracked them down and that it could be a trap. Tomomi just stares at them...before suddenly grabbing their strings, taking control of Mari and using them to brutally kill their murderer. Hiro, for once in a very long time, immediately intervenes, fighting for control over Mari to protect them as they scream in agony, the Taint from Tomomi transferring over to them. Tomomi, on the verge of bursting into a demon, yells at Hiro, asking why can't she just trust him? Why can't she just accept what needs to be done? Why can't she just support him like she's supposed to!? Hiro, after putting up with Tomomi's toxicity for years, screams that he can do whatever he wants to her but never to her own friend! And turns the tables, taking control of Mari and wounding Tomomi's soul. This shocks everyone, Tomomi crumbling as he tries to keep himself intact. Hiro drops the strings and Mari, despite being in pain, scrambles over Tomomi, telling him that it's going to be okay, it's going to be okay. They have a solution, it'll be okay. They form a box between them, putting Tomomi inside and wrapping it all up until he disappears into their chest. Once Tomomi was gone, Mari tries to get their taint under control, pushing down Tomomi's memories, the murderous intent, the pain and suffering in his heart, feeling every single bit of it before it finally, finally subsides. They feel...different. But at least they had their free will back. Mari turns to Hiro to ask if she's alright, but sees the Brooch of Life in her hand. Tomomi must have dropped it in the scuffle. Mari didn't understand why Hiro was staring at it so intently, but for Hiro...Hiro realized something. She realized that she can't have a future like this. Not when Tomomi might disappear for good. Not when she's a ghost that has remained stagnant, hurting as the taint over her arms and face grew and grew. Not when she...she can't even age, for she is dead. But this brooch...if it works just like that exorcist said, even if she didn't know what would happen if a ghost were to use it...It wasn't even a question. Hiro puts the brooch over her heart and in an instant, her body glows bright, her body feels heavy (feel, she can FEEL), and she can taste the stale air, the smell of blood, everything all at once...until she passes out from her senses being completely overwhelmed. Mari catches her, shocked that she had actually done it without a second thought...but if that was her choice, then they would follow and protect her to the very end. And thus, they carried her out of the building, bringing her to a hotel for her to rest at.

Being sensitive to the supernatural is different for everyone. Some may notice a ghostly presence while another can just walk on by without even a shudder. Being sensitive to the supernatural is a basic survival instinct that humans still use to this day, as being aware that something is off can encourage people to avoid certain supernatural hotspots or even a single ghost or demon that may have ill will and just waiting for a chance to pounce on a vulnerable person. It's a sixth sense of sorts. However, being too sensitive to the supernatural can be very detrimental to one's mental health, some even losing their sanity for seeing so many dead people, creatures, and demons in the vicinity. Other times, lacking any sensitivity at all can lead to someone walking right into danger without realizing it. In the end, you're better off being more in the middle. At least your sixth sense will be going off every now and then without driving you paranoid.

Hiro's recovery was a slow one as it's been years since she's been an actual, breathing human. Mari always took the time to dote and take care of her, doing research on what kind of food she'll need and giving her plenty of entertainment through stories and TV time. The TV is a little different but she recognizes it as one that she's familiar with back when she was still alive so she grows comfortable in the hotel. The cartoons aren't familiar at all, though. In fact, the graphics don't match up with her memories period. It confused her. And scared her. After a few days and when she was able to start walking on her own, she asks Mari for a calendar as she's know when she died, she died on a holiday after all, she just needed to know what year it is. Mari does what they're told and brings her a calendar from the desk. She nearly drops it as soon as she reads the year. Hiro, she...she knew. She knew it's been years since she died. She saw how different certain things were as they traveled, how people's clothes had changed, the glimpses of different kinds of toys she never recognized, and the way people talked as she listens when she had nothing better to do when no one else can see her but Mari, Tomomi, and the occasional supernatural sensitive person. She just didn't realized it's been three whole decades.

And that is essentially Hiro's backstory, plus a few side notes on certain lore elements to explain what each term means in this world. There are certainly more elements to her story but I figured I'd cut off there in case I ever decide to actually sit down and write her story. Which won't be in her POV, at least not at the start since her revival is meant to be a mystery in the beginning as her childhood friend encounters her right in front of her own grave and freaks out, kickstarting the plot as he tries to figure out who, when, and HOW this even happened while Hiro keeps her mouth shut due to her own trauma, the struggle of realizing that everything that you were once familiar with and called home had changed drastically including the people you once knew cause they're now middle-age adults, and just overall figuring out if she even belongs in this new era or not despite coming from a past long since gone. Which she is dealing with all at once, with the depression and anxiety just a cherry on top behind her attempts to remain positive to an almost toxic extent (unless she's with Mari). It doesn't mean her cheerfulness is a complete facade, most of it can be genuine when she's taking things slow and can actually be very fascinated with the new technology that's surrounding her. It's just! A lot! To take in at once! To the point that she can sometimes feel a little bit alienated around others, including kids that are suppose to be her age.

Hiro is still an 80s kid before her death. She does not know what a smartphone is.

Due to the state of her own body, a.k.a. being a ghost, when Hiro used the Brooch of Life, it had to create an entirely new body of hers by scratch, which included the same clothes she had died in but without the dirt and scratches. So now there are two of her own bodies that exist in this world: the one that is buried in her grave that has long since decayed over the years, and the one she has now. As a result, Hiro is in a state of being alive but also dead. She can now grow older, which is what she wanted as she wanted to grow up and experience what it's like to be a teenager and an adult, something she never had the chance to do. But she also still has her ghost powers, from small bits of telekinesis to being able teleport (although this time she teleports through transforming into a swarm of butterflies and zipping over to the other side instant of being instantaneous) except for possession. There are also some side effects like her reproductive organs not functioning at all, something she learns much later down her life as a teenager. She's...actually upset about this since the thought of having her own family one day has crossed her mind a lot in her new life, so finding out that she can't have kids period was a gut punch to her. She's otherwise healthy, sure, but...that's cold comfort to her.

Her butterflies are parts of her soul, and she can "split" one off of her to fly into a location she can't appear in as herself. As a result, she can survey the nearby area, mapping it all out and eavesdropping on certain conversations without no one noticing. As long as they're not sensitive to the supernatural, at least...

Because these butterflies are a part of her soul, she has to bring those butterflies back to her body. If something were to happen to that butterfly, such as being crushed, she will feel the pain as if someone had actually attacked her physical body. Her body is actually quite fragile due to her state of being both alive and dead at the same time, so any pain or injuries she's sustained can easily become life-threatening.

It's a good thing that she has Mari with her, then, as they would more than willingly protect her with their life. However, after the incident with Tomomi and Hiro, and the Taint on their body, Mari has been struggling very hard to keep themselves in check. They are now paranoid of any threat that may be posed to Hiro, becoming overprotective of her and even becoming downright threatening with the intent of murder if someone so much as go near her. They want to keep their promise to Hiro, they really do. But due to their lack of experience and knowledge around humans outside of Hiro and Tomomi's memories, ones that are constantly overshadowed by their own deaths by a single man, they struggle to trust anyone at all except Hiro. Hiro recognizes that they're doing their best to help support and entertain her, though, and so she does her best to be patient, even when she's uncomfortable of the signs she sees in her friend.

Mari has the same powers as Hiro has, although they can actually teleport without needing to transform into something else, it's more or less instantaneous for them. This also includes her Time powers as they have inherited part of her soul (and Tomomi's when he had taken control of them), and can both rewind and freeze time like Hiro can. However, like Hiro, they cannot rewind time beyond an hour and can only freeze time for a minute. But unlike Hiro, they are far more creative in the use of this power, especially when in battle. And they can get quite merciless...unless they're in the mood to toy with their prey.

Yeah, prey. Due to the taint that Mari has, they are in danger of bursting into a demon. They're able to keep things the taint at bay for the time being, but they won't deny that the thought of gaining souls to become more powerful to protect Hiro isn't...tempting. But they know better than that. They know.

The butterfly pin Hiro has on her flat cap actually came from Mari. They totally didn't steal it.

Her new body also ended up being slightly different as the other half of her heritage becomes more apparent in her slightly pointed ears, her golden eyes that look a lot more like a clock, and the horns on her head. Yeah, she's not just wearing her hat for sentimental reasons, it's also to make sure no one sees the horns she has as she doesn't want to risk being made fun of or worse, be demonized. She's very uncomfortable about them as she doesn't know what to make of her new appearance anymore, wondering if this is what she gets for letting her brother go as far as he did...(She does not know that her grandfather and her father isn't human at this point...at least, not yet.) She also has a ton of scars on her body due to her past deaths and the reminders aren't! Great! She's really not happy with her body, but her friends don't judge her at all, simply expressing empathy for everything she's been put through. Hiro eventually comes to accept that this is what her body is now.

The reason why she comes off as creepy to others isn't because she is, but because the people she's trying to reach out to that are even remotely familiar with her are freaking out on the inside when they see their childhood friend, who's suppose to be dead, pop out of nowhere into their lives. Showing up at her own grave the very same day you were going to visit her with flowers? Oh God, I either finally snapped and started hallucinating or the supernatural IS real, time to run! Showing up at an author meet and greet and seeing her in the crowd, scanning a copy of her book that isn't really meant for kids? Very creepy as you try to act natural even when she asks questions when it's her turn to talk to you! Seeing her at a bridge with her against the railing while you're walking home? Okay, to be fair, that's a lot less creepy and more like, "Are you okay, kid?", even when there are alarm bells ringing in your head as you question if that's even your old friend or someone else entirely. Those are essentially the thoughts that are going through her three childhood friends' heads, and you can't really blame them since, uh, the dead aren't suppose to come back to life and they're not even sure if she's even the same Hiroko Arai they knew and cared about as kids. They do eventually get their answer as Hiro is indeed the same Hiro as before, but they were definitely trying to wrack their brains over what the hell is happening at the start since they don't know any of the context Hiro has, and Hiro hasn't exactly been open about it due to...everything she's dealing with right now. So at the start of story, the three of them get together, alongside Hiro who keeps insisting that she tags along despite them trying to tell her that they're doing "grown-up" things, start their investigations on the past, the murders, and what kind of insane supernatural things are going on right now, reforming their old bonds in the process as our main POV character has isolated himself from the friends he had left due to losing his best friends to the murderer, among other things.

I'm also just a sucker for the "grumpy middle-age adult that begrudgingly takes care of a sad child and the two of them healing over time together" except this time, it's an entire friend group pitching in to co-parent this child together, who also just so happened to be an old friend of theirs from way back then that came back from the dead.

One of the old friends 100% does the "board with red string" meme at some point.

While we never got around to finishing the stories we had planned out back then, I always saw the themes of this AU as, "Actions have consequences, ones that may end up affecting newer generations as time goes on," "don't let the past define you but also don't abandon it and pretend that it didn't happen," and, "breaking the cycle can be hard, but worth the effort for those you love and yourself, as you deserve a happier, healthier life like anyone else." A lot of shit may happen in these stories, especially to the characters...but they do get a happy ending out of all this, or at least a bittersweet one where everything isn't perfect, but they can still move forward to a new future together.

And with that, I'm finally done talking about Hiro. *lays down* I tried to cut down on my rambling but I have clearly failed on that. I clearly have a lot to say about Hiro, even now, and I do genuinely want good things for her. She's such a sweet kid that just doesn't know what the best course of action is, knowing something wrong but eventually growing scared of confrontation as she believes speaking up would only worsen her relationship with others. Even though it's not even her fault, some people simply won't stop until it's too late or never learn. She and Tomomi was essentially my version of the ghost kid(s) that haunted Marionette back when I first joined my friends on their little FNAF AU. And I think that was around when FNAF 4 came out. There's a lot to adjust for the story to separate itself from FNAF but I think I'm satisfied with what I came up with and shared for now.

Here's Hiro's design, btw.

Honestly, it's about time I shared this art of her. It's old but I still love how her design turned out...even if it's not completely accurate to the time period she came from but shhh. She gets to be cute and happy here. She needs that positivity in her life. Let's hope it doesn't border on toxic positivity. ^^;

OCs are a funny thing where you start off with this initial idea that you're pretty down for, but as you develop them a bit more and maybe even sit down to design them, you realize that they're giving off a different vibe or you come up with a different idea that seems more suitable for character. Bonus points if this is an old OC that you had when you were younger and they end up changing a lot over the years as you grow older and become more mature as both a person and a creator.

This is kinda what happened with my OC, Hiro, as she used to be this creepy kid that came back from the dead after a few decades and was okay with murder as a form of justice. But nowadays she's a kid that comes off as creepy when in reality she's just a depressed kid that's desperately in need of help and support in a time where everything had changed since she's been dead for a few decades and is struggling to adjust to the modern setting after reviving herself. And she hates murder in general now. Her concept was still technically the same, it's just the surrounding details about her that changed a lot.

(Interesting to know that Hitaru was going to be a lot more spoiled and like her parents since she's never been abused like the rest of her siblings. It would certainly hammer home the idea of continuing the cycle one way or another, but I like who Hitaru is now. She's so sweet and I wanted to destroy Mrs. Nijiue SO BADLY the more I learned about her and her husband.)

THAT'S LIKE,, THE FUNNIEST INSTANCES OF THIS HAPPENING the oc does a 180 and becomes the complete opposite of the idea you crested them for in the first place, absolutely insane.

Yeah if i had kept her as an asshole it would show how sometimes the cycle just can't be broken but i think she's much more interesting the way she is not because it's surprising? In a way? Like, this is the oldest of the Nijiue siblings and the one born with a natural talent for arts so you'd expect that she would be treated the best by the parents and take after them due to that but Hitaru has it just as badly as her siblings and took it upon herself to not be like the parents and help them in the only ways she could while being in such a terrible situation. It's a nice break of expectations i think

Akemi also charger quite a bit from my original idea for the character, she was a lot meane when i first created her for voidswap, but then Mod Bubbles picked the siblings up for Asoot and it lef to her becoming a much nicer and nuanced character which is really cool because i think that's the first time an oc of mine changed because of my friend's ideas rather than something stemming solely from me so that's fun

I guess we could include Beni in this list too, but also not really? Because Beni herself really hasn't had major changes to her character ever since creation, she's remained largely the same, i just added more and more stuff to her

Even her design has been pretty much the same ever since this first sketch lmao

The thing is that before she came into my mind i had this different idea for a character which was this girl who woked at the foundation's police division alongside Ryutaro and Keisuke and she was this scaredy cat type character that was always stressed and hated her job, but I wasn't super into the idea and the design i had in mind just looked a lot like Maki + i wanted someone that could have some form of connection to the Dra so cue to me remembering Kanata had a younger siblings and coming up with Beni after i checked the list just to be sure

(Also dude do you have posts of any kind about Hiro and whatever world she comes from? It's such an interesting concept I'd love to hear more about it 👀)

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Warm

Pairing: Kirishima x reader

Warnings: This one’s a little spicy, there’s some implied smut and nudity + kissy kissy (it’s really nothing major tho). Fem!reader (only bc he refers to you as his wife). Hmm, bit of hurt/comfort? Just a bunch of fluffy flirting with dashes of angst and spice (okay maybe a lot of angst)

Author’s Note:

Hello! Here’s the long-ass Kiri fic I’ve been working on! This is actually just loosely based on the request—I really took it and ran I guess 😅. I kept changing my mind with what I wanted to happen until I eventually wound up with this!

Ignore how it’s basically Bath Bomb but with Kirishima

Anyway I hope y’all like it!

-Sugar

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡⋆｡*ﾟ✲*

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡⋆｡*ﾟ✲*

Your consciousness bloomed back into being at the sensation of lips trailing kisses down your shoulders. Daylight pierced into your cracked lids, faintly illuminating your bedroom with the caress of a new sun.

A body pressed up against yours, his broad chest and shoulders wide enough to support the width of your own back. His mouth languidly worked its way over your bare skin; from your back, to your neck, over your shoulder. He moved as if he had all the time in the world, and he was more than willing to spend it all on you.

You hummed and shifted, signaling your newly awakened state. A thick forearm you weren’t previously aware of tightened its grip around your waist, his palm gliding over your stomach and up to your chest. It moved up and down, before finally stopping to give you a gentle squeeze.

“Morning, Eijirou,” you said, a laugh already in your sleep-worn voice.

“Hey, Princess.” His chin slotted in the juncture of your shoulder and neck, his cheek pressing against yours. “Sleep well?” His own voice was so low and quiet and deep in the mornings, making your nerves fire in an odd excitement within you.

“Of course I did,” you smirked, ignoring the stirring in your chest. “I’ve got you.”

He chuckled, and finally a small shiver shot through your body at the sound. “Glad the feeling’s mutual.”

You ducked out from under his chin, turning to your other side in order to face him. His chest pressed against yours as you hugged him back, and you couldn’t help but notice how warm it was under the covers like this. Finally you met his eyes, (E/C) meeting glittering vermillion in the morning sun for a long moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “I swear, I married an angel.”

Your heart sped from its steady beat, heat climbing the back of your neck. “Eiji!” you mumbled, flustered, hiding your face between his pecs.

He chuckled again, and at this point, you swore he was doing it on purpose. “It’s true. Gorgeous, perfect—what more could I have asked for?”

You smiled against his skin, and you felt his warm hand gently begin to stroke up and down your back. You cuddled in silence for a minute, growing lost in the touch of the other.

“This is nice,” he sighed, drawing you impossibly closer. “I finally get to spend my whole day with you.”

You lifted your head again to look into his face, smirking. “Is your plan to spend it all in bed?”

He shrugged. “That wouldn’t be a bad thing. Think about it—here, finally alone with me, all warm and snuggly? No stress, no responsibilities, just . . . me. And you. It’s been too long since we’ve had something like that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, perhaps too readily. Eijirou’s face fell. “Hey,” you crooned, taking his cheek in your palm. “I understand you’re busy. You’re out there being the best hero ever. Do you know how proud I am of you? My Red Riot, saving the day out there. It’s worth the wait.”

His ruby eyes glimmered as they affectionately bored into yours, leaning into your touch. “I still feel bad I can’t be here for you like this every day.”

“But then it wouldn’t be as special.” Your thumb stroked his cheekbone, finally pulling him into a kiss. It started out soft, but Eijirou was quick to escalate the gesture. He devoured your lips enthusiastically, just like he always did, licking and nibbling at the skin.

Warm, you couldn’t help but think, as your heart pounded and blood rushed towards your face. Warm as his fingers laced with yours on his cheek, warm as your skin touched without a centimeter separating you.

Kisses with Eijirou were addictive, and once you started, you could scarcely bring yourself to stop. With every push and pull of your lips, it was as if pure joy had flooded your veins. Even after all these years of being together, you basked in the truth that he could still make you feel this way.

His lips pecked the corner of your mouth, then moved down, down to your jaw, then your neck.

“Eiji,” you breathed, a smile tugging your lips up.

He met your eyes again, removing his tongue and teeth just enough to innocently question, “What?”

“I—weren’t we—it really is—” you began, but your brain was already distracted, focusing on the way he sucked and nipped at your skin, moving ever lower.

“Are you actually going to stop me?” he asked, kissing your collarbone.

You gulped. “No.”

It was a few more hours until you got out of bed.

…

“Eiji.”

You spoke his name and tapped him on one shoulder blade, muscled and kissed by the sun. He grumbled, asleep once more, nuzzling closer into your bosom.

“Eijirou, it’s noon,” you said, glancing at your bedside alarm clock and shaking him again.

“So?” he mumbled against your skin.

“So I’m hungry,” you pretended to whine. “Let’s make breakfast. Or lunch. Brunch, yeah.”

He sighed, dramatic, hugging you tight. “But I don’t want to get up.”

“I’ll make us pancakes,” you offered, threading your hands through his soft red hair.

He didn’t move.

“—with extra bacon and sausage,” you added.

He looked up, eyes meeting yours as his chin settled on your chest. “Okay, I’m listening.”

You chuckled, ruffling his bangs and poking at his nose. “Come on, you have to get off of me. We can cuddle again later.”

Eijirou finally straightened, letting you slide out from under him. You both stretched and moved towards your dresser; Kirishima choosing a pair of gray sweatpants while you opted for one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts.

Eijirou trailed after you to the kitchen, leaning against the counter while you rummaged through the fridge for a few ingredients. Within minutes, you had the batter mixed, and you poured it into the hot pan with a satisfying sizzle. Your husband watched with interest from behind, chin perched on your shoulder and arms resting around your waist.

“That one looks nice,” he’d comment every now and then. “Good job, babe.”

His hands stayed ever-present on your body, mostly resting on your shoulders or hips as you finished making breakfast. You ate with him, making light conversation as you plowed through the stack of pancakes and meat.

When you were done, you spent some time catching up around the house. Eijirou helped you wash the dishes and fold and put away the laundry. He insisted on doing it all by your side, happy to chat while you shared effort on the chores.

“How do you keep up with all this?” he asked, setting one of his t-shirts on the bed, freshly folded. “With your job and everything, it’s amazing that you still do so much.”

You shrugged. “I manage. It’s not so bad. And don’t completely discredit yourself, you still help when you can.”

“Well, of course I do,” he said, carrying a pile of clothes to the dresser. “You shouldn’t have to take care of everything by yourself.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “but you have other things to do that’s more important than dusting behind the TV.”

He came back to your side again, putting his arm around your waist and pulling you in so he could kiss your temple. “I’m just thankful you’re here to keep up with the house.”

“And I’m thankful you’re here to spend time with me today.” You popped up on your toes to kiss the corner of his mouth, taking the now-empty laundry basket back to the laundry room.

“Would you like to watch a movie together?” you asked when you were back in the doorway. “The evening is young. We can make a snack and go back to cuddling on the couch. How does that sound, huh?” You grinned and wiggled your eyebrows, trying to sound convincing.

“Sounds perfect to me, babe,” Eijirou said, striding up to where you leaned against the doorframe. “But I think the only snack here is you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ei-JI—AAA!”

He picked you up and slung you over his shoulder, grinning his shark-toothed smile as you laughed.

“I meant popcorn!” you said, pretending to struggle.

Kirishima landed a gentle smack to your behind and made a little pop noise with his mouth.

“Ugh,” you said, going limp.

“Shall we continue to the living room, my lady?” he asked.

“Fine. But I don’t think ladies are supposed to be carried like a sack of potatoes.”

He chuckled, already making his way down the hall. “You’re the finest sack of potatoes I’ve ever seen.”

“Hey!” You landed the softest of punches against his back, still lighthearted in the situation.

He set you down once you were back in the kitchen, going to the pantry to grab a bag of popcorn. You sat on the counter to watch him put it in the microwave.

“I’m always scared I’m going to burn these,” he admitted, grinning sheepishly as he tried to decide on a time to put in.

“I do it for a minute and fifty seconds,” you said, childishly swinging your legs.

He inputted the time as you said, the microwave humming to life as the turntable began to spin. Eijirou turned to you again, moving so he was between your legs. “Now, about my snack.”

You snorted, giggling until he cupped your cheek in his hand. He slotted his lips against yours, pulling your body flush into his. Your hands wandered over his bare skin, tracing the blade of his shoulder before gliding up into his hair. You let your fingers lace through the vibrant red strands, anchoring yourself and pulling him in further. Your legs even went as far as wrapping themselves around his waist, your feet meeting at the small of his back.

Eijirou hummed into your mouth, happy to savor you, glad he was there to hold you. The microwave beeped that it was done and you felt his attention shift momentarily, but soon he was back to cherishing you, getting lost in your taste and your touch. How could he care about anything other than you right now? You were his everything, his world, his reason to be. He kissed you harder, not caring that he was running out of breath. He just wanted more of you, wishing he never had to stop. His hand traced over your thigh, longing for you to somehow be even closer.

The microwave beeped again, impatient that it hadn’t been opened.

“Are you going to get that?” you asked, pulling back.

“Yeah,” he grumbled, but he still insisted on giving you a few more chaste pecks before he moved.

You released him and hopped down, wandering into the living room with your husband right behind you, newly equipped with a steaming bag of popcorn.

“What should we watch?” you mused. “Ooh, how about Star Wars? It’s been a while and I know it’s one of your favorites.”

“Okay,” he said, settling next to you on the couch. It was a good idea. You were right about him liking it, but he’d also seen it enough times that he could place all his focus on you. There was no way he was going to let your little make out session go interrupted like that.

“Why don’t you go turn out the light?” you asked, already turning on the TV.

Eijirou stood, walking up to the switch on the wall. It was then that he felt his phone begin to vibrate in his pocket. He flicked the lights off as he fished out the device. He figured it was junk, but then he saw it was his work contact. His heart began to sink.

“Who’s that?” you asked, apprehensive when you saw the expression that had already come onto his face.

“The agency,” he said, voice low and small.

He wanted to think they were just calling because he’d left something in his office. Or maybe it was a mistake and they hadn’t meant to call him at all. But they wouldn’t contact him on his day off like this if it wasn’t an emergency. Kirishima wasn’t so naïve that he’d think otherwise.

What if he just didn’t answer? What if he ignored it and went back to you? You were the one he wanted to spend time with. This was his evening off—your evening to be together.

But he had a job. He had a responsibility. An innocent person’s life could be at risk. What kind of person—what man, what hero—would he be if he selfishly ignored it? His passion demanded sacrifice, and that was just something he had to live with. He only wished that you weren’t the one who always had to get hurt.

He never knew his thumb to feel so heavy as he pressed receive.

You watched him put the phone to his ear, watched his face fall further as it seemed your collective suspicions were confirmed. He shot you an apologetic glance before he briskly strode off in the direction of your bedroom, still listening to what his secretary was saying on the other end.

You looked back to the TV, the ‘st’ still present in the search field from when you’d typed it in only moments before. Sighing, you turned off the screen, sitting back into the couch.

Maybe he wouldn’t be gone long, you thought, chewing on your lip. Maybe you’d still have time to be together when he got home.

But you knew that it was little more than a lie to yourself. You knew he never came back soon.

The front door slammed shut somewhere else in the house, and you were alone again. You lifted your left hand, examining the glittering rubied ring that rested on your finger. The ring that claimed you as his. The ring that had made you a Kirishima.

You twisted it absentmindedly, appreciating the sensation of friction against your skin. You’d known what you were getting into when you’d accepted the ring. You’d known as soon as he’d gotten down on one knee nearly two years ago. Being wed to a hero wouldn’t be easy. Not only were you in danger just being involved with him, you were also going to be alone a lot.

And even still, you’d accepted. You always cherished every moment you were able to have with him. Every cheesy, teasing joke, every kiss, every time he’d come home to you exhausted and tired and dirty—you still loved it. Because you couldn’t even imagine spending your life with another. Maybe in some other reality, you’d find someone who loved you as much, but here, you wanted Eijirou. No matter what it took, you’d be the one waiting for him to come home. It was your shoulder he’d cry on, your chest he’d fall asleep in, your lips that were there for him to claim. And nothing would change that.

You knew how guilty Kirishima felt about leaving you. He didn’t like that he’d essentially forced you into being his housewife, even though you still had a day job of your own and didn’t really mind.

Being a hero is what he wanted to do his whole life. You saw how passionate he was about his job, all the wide, toothy smiles he’d display to the live TV cameras when he’d win another battle. His job was something he loved, and you wouldn’t dream of getting in the way of it. It wasn’t perfect, nor was heroing as glamorous as some made it out to be. But this was his dream, and you would continue to be his number one fan no matter the circumstances. If only it didn’t have to take him away so much . . . .

You munched on a handful of cooling popcorn—not burnt—wondering what you should do with the rest of your night off. You certainly couldn’t spend it sitting by yourself in the dark.

You stood, stretching. This was nothing new for you, you could be independent. But a part of you couldn’t help but selfishly wish it didn’t have to be this way.

…

Kirishima fumbled to put the key in the lock on your door. He’d done his work for the day, he’d won. But had he really?

God only knew what time it was. The house was dark when he opened the door, stepping in and taking off his boots. He knew the drill by now, setting his duffel bag down to rest in the genkan before trudging through the shadowy rooms of his home. Could he even call it his home? Sometimes he wondered if he was still able to say he lived here.

The bedroom door was cracked open. Eijirou peeked in to see your shadowy form asleep, alone on the large mattress in the masses of blankets. He sighed and toed his way into the guest bathroom where he knew he was less likely to disturb you, cringing when he flicked on the bright light.

He caught a look at himself in the mirror as he stripped off the hoodie he wore to and from work. His hair was a tangled mess, sweat and grime still smeared on his skin. The shower sputtered to life, the din of water droplets hitting tile filling his ears. It was almost comforting; letting his thoughts drown to a low, unpleasant hum beneath the sound.

Water rolled over his skin, washing away what should have been his victory. No one’s life had really been in danger today, but he’d still stopped a villain from potentially destroying someone’s business. Why wasn’t he as happy as he should be?

Kirishima wearily went through the motions of taking a shower. He just wanted to fall into your arms and sleep, but first, maybe he should apologize for ruining your evening together. Had he even said goodbye to you as he rushed out the door?

At least he smelled considerably better when he stepped into the bedroom, changed only into a pair of loose basketball shorts. He walked up to your slumbering form, wondering if you’d wake up if he were to try and take you in his arms.

Eijirou already felt like he was in heaven as soon as he felt the soft mattress under his body. He practically melted under the already warmed blankets, the lids of his eyes suddenly feeling like lead weights when his head met his pillow. His arm draped over your side out of habit, pulling you closer into his chest before he even realized what he was doing. You began to stir, and Kirishima frowned. He hadn’t really wanted to wake you.

“Eiji?” you mumbled, still half asleep.

“It’s me,” he whispered in your ear. “I’m home now.”

You ran your hand over your face. “Did you eat? What time is it?”

“Shh, go back to sleep, honey, don’t worry about me.” Eijirou placed a soft kiss on the skin of your neck, rubbing circles on your midsection in an effort to soothe you back to rest.

“But I do worry about you,” you protested, voice still hushed. “I’m your wife.”

He sighed in defeat. “Alright, I haven’t eaten anything,” he confessed, “but I’ll make sure to get breakfast in the morning. I’m too tired right now, I just need to hold you and sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, already moving to stand. “It’s not good for you to not eat like this. I’ll get up and reheat something for you—”

“I’m fine. Really, please.” He held you down and nuzzled into your neck, not caring about the way your hair tickled his nose with every breath.

You took his hand, lacing his thick fingers with your own. “Did everything go okay?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “They just needed some emergency backup. I’m sorry I ruined movie night.”

“Oh, honey, it isn’t your fault.”

Eijirou sighed again. “I know.”

“I’m not upset with you.”

“You never are,” he mumbled, and there was a strange bitterness to it that made you frown.

“Well, it’s a part of your job—”

“Why can’t you just be angry with me?” he interjected. “Why don’t you hate me for having a job that always takes me away from you?”

You froze at his outburst, shocked. “Eijirou—?”

“I—I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, instantly regretting the way he’d spoken to you. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no, baby.” You turned onto your back, shuffling so Kirishima could lay his head on your chest. “There’s something going on. Please talk to me.”

He nuzzled closer into you again, holding you in his arms as your fingers began to twirl around his hair. “I just wish I didn’t have to leave you so much,” he admitted softly. “I want to be here for you.”

“But you love your job, right?”

“Of course I do.” He looked up at you so his chin rested in the valley of your chest. “But I love you more. And I feel like I don’t show that to you enough.”

You brushed his bangs out of his face, your hand moving down so your thumb could stroke his cheek. “Eiji, I know you love me.”

“Yeah . . . ,” he trailed off. “But I want to show you. Every day, like I did when we were younger. I don’t feel like it’s manly for me to leave you here by yourself all these nights, and come home late, and not be around. You deserve better than that. I want to contribute more. I want to be here for you. What if—what if something happened to you and I couldn’t protect you?” His voice seemed to break at the thought, his arms wrapped around you squeezing you even tighter.

You hummed, taking in his laments, fingers still carding through his long red hair. “I know you’re under a lot of pressure right now,” you murmured, hoping to soothe him with your actions, “but you should know by now that I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”

He nodded against your hand, but his shadowed face still looked glum.

“And yes, I miss you and I wish we had more time for each other, but I’m sure that someday it’ll change. Your job is tough right now, Ei, but this is your dream. Every day, you’re doing amazing things and I couldn’t be more proud of you. This is what you want to do in life, right?”

He nodded again. “Of course.”

“Then I’m going to support you. If this is what comes with being a hero, then we’ll just have to . . . adapt. Take things as they come, you know? You’ve got a lot on your plate and I want to help you. I know you doubt yourself sometimes and it only gets worse when you’re tired like this.”

“Mhm,” he agreed, voice a little airy and distant. He took your hand in his and began to press slow kisses to your palms and knuckles. You could see the shine of his eyes becoming more obscured by the droop of his lids.

“Maybe you can try to get a week off next time?” you suggested. “And maybe tell Bakugou to hire better back up so you won’t have to get called in like that.”

“A whole week with you,” he mused, sighing. “I’d get spoiled at that rate.”

You bent forward to kiss his forehead, smirking. “It’s nothing you don’t deserve. Either way, we’ll talk about this later, sleepyhead. You still have to go in tomorrow. Maybe it was a good thing we slept in today.”

He chuckled, turning the both of you on your sides and sliding up so he could have better access to kiss all over your face. You couldn’t help but smile at his gentle, languid movements; still determined to display his love for you even half-asleep.

“This is my favorite part of the day,” he murmured, lips ghosting over your cheek. “Coming home to you. I just feel so . . . comfortable around you.”

“You should,” you said, poking the tip of his nose. “I’m your wife.”

“Yeah. But you’re also like, warm and stuff.”

Was he even still conscious at this point?

“Goodnight, Red.”

“Goodnight, my little lovebug.”

And so you began to drift off with him. You had to admit, it had been cold and lonely sleeping without him. But now his presence overwhelmed you in all the right ways, from his fresh-out-of-the-shower scent to the feeling of his arms caging you in against his chest. You felt comfortable, yes, but also warm. 

So warm.

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡⋆｡*ﾟ✲*

Taglist: @aahilovetheatre​ @basicaegyo​ @hyunmin-1404​ @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​​ @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sxngwoos-ash-box​ @xoxopam4​

[zukkacore]

Whitewashing in AtlaLok: the Western & Christian Influence on s2 of LoK

Ok, so i’m not a big brained expert on all things indigenous or even all things asian but I do think bryke's christian & western worldview seeps so far into season 2 of LoK that i think out of every season it’s by far the most unsalvageable out of everything they’ve ever done in the Atlaverse and is a very insidious kind of whitewashing. I know that sounds hefty but here’s what I mean

For the record, I’m a mixed filipino person & while there is religious diversity among filipinos, more than i think ppl realize or that the catholic majority is willing to let on, when we were colonized a large percent of the population was indeed forced to convert to catholicism so that’s my background, & i don’t know everything about taoism or the what the tai chi symbol represents but the way Bryke westernize the concept of Yin and Yang is honestly… kinda bewildering. They get so many details about yin & yang wrong?? & Yes, it’s possible they could’ve been trying to create their own lore that differentiates itself from the traditional depictions of Yin & Yang, but in the end i think it doesn’t matter b/c the lore they invent is a very obviously western interpretation of the concept of “balance”.

The most important and honestly worst change they make is that concepts of “light” and “dark” are completely oversimplified and flattened to represent basically “good” and “evil” (which, the light and dark side are a bit more complex than representing just “peace/order vs. Chaos” like the show might imply but we don’t even have time for that, but is funny how they get the genders wrong. Like. Traditionally, light is usually coded masculine and dark is usually coded feminine, but never mind that, that’s just a tangent). This really simplifies the nuance of the s2 conflict and makes it a lot less interesting, not to mention just—misrepresents a very real religious philosophy?

And for the record, a piece of media going out of its way to do "the show, don’t tell" thing of stating in the text that “oh, light and dark are not the same thing as good vs. evil” without actually displaying that difference through the writing is just lip service, and its poor writing. A lot of pieces of media do this, but i think s2 of LoK is particularly egregious. The point of this philosophy of balance is that you aren’t supposed to moralize about which side is “good” or “bad”, or even really which one is “better” or “worse”. Even if the show states the concepts are not interchangeable, if the media in question continually frames one side (and almost always its “chaos/darkness”) as the “evil” side, then the supposed distinction between “light vs. dark” and “good vs. evil” is made moot. And besides the occasional offhand remark that implies more nuance without actually delivering, Vaatu is basically stock evil incarnate.

This depiction of conflict as “defeating a singular representation of total evil” isn’t solely christian, but it is definitely present in christian beliefs. And I think those kinds of stories can be done well, but in this case, in a world filled entirely of asian, Pacific Islander & inuit poc, to me it feels like a form of subtle whitewashing? B/c you’re taking characters that probably wouldn’t have christian beliefs, and imposing a christian worldview onto them. Not to mention removes what could have been an interesting conflict of any nuance and intrigue… and honestly, sucks, because I do think s2 has the bones of an interesting idea, mostly b/c there are potential themes that could’ve been explored—I know this b/c they were already explored in a movie that exists, and it’s name is Princess Mononoke! It has a lot of the same elements—tension between spirits and humanity, destruction of nature in the face of rapid industrialization, moral ambiguity where there are no easy or fast answers and both sides have sympathetic and understandable points of view. (Unsurprising b/c Miyazaki is Japanese & Japanese culture has a lot of influence from Buddhism, Taoism, Shintoism, etc)

Bryke’s western & christian worldview also totally seeps into the characterization of Unalaq, the antagonist of the season which is a real problem. I’m in the middle of rewatching s2 right now and what struck me is that….. Unalaq comes across kinda ecofash AND fundamentalist which is 1) seems like an odd combination but maybe it really isn’t? 2) i think is a really tacky choice considering that the water tribes take the majority of its inspiration from inuit and polynesian indigenous cultures.

I honestly forgot abt this but Unalaq gives this whole lame speech abt how the SWT & humans as a whole suck b/c of their lack of spiritual connection & it was really eerie to me b/c "humans are morally bankrupt and they must be wiped out/punished for their destruction of the environment" is total ecofash logic bc it blames all of humanity for damage caused by those in power—be they capitalists or whoever. It’s a worldview that blames the poor and powerless for something they have no say in, and has real eugenics undertones bc with every implication of culling, there has to be someone who appoints themself the job of culling—of who is and isn’t worthy of death.

This belief also struck me as......... kinda christian in it's logic as well which is WEIRD b/c once again........ their cultural inspirations are DEFINITELY not christian...... The whole "man is inherently evil and must spend their whole lifetime repenting/must face punishment for it’s wickedness" thing and the way that christianity treats humanity as born with original sin or inherently corrupt—as well as above or separate from nature are really stronger undertones in Unalaqs worldview....... which isn't really an indigenous way or thinking.

I'm generalizing of course but from what I have seen from the indigenous people who speak on this is that (feel free to point out or correct me if i’m mostly generalizing abt Native Americans and not other indigenous cultures & there are some differences here) is that while native tribes are not monolithic and do vary wildly, there are a lot of common threads and that reverence and respect toward nature and your surroundings is an important tenant of indigenous beliefs. (I specifically remember the hosts on All My Relations saying essentially that we humans are a part of nature, we are not separate from it, and humans are not superior to animals—I’m paraphrasing but that is the gist of it)

So, yeah, I think it’s just really distasteful to write an indigenous character who is characterized in a way that’s way more in line with a christian fundamentalist & wants to bring about a ragnarok style apocalypse end of the world when that isn’t really a tenant of our beliefs? (btw, the way the end of the world is framed is also kinda fucked up? If i were being charitable, I could say that maybe s2’s storyline is a corruption of the hindu depiction of the end of the world, but even that sounds mildly insulting for reasons I won’t get into b/c i am Not The Expert On Hinduism. I will say that once again, the framing of the concept is all wrong, the show views the idea of apocalypse through a very western lense)

To wrap this up, I think the depiction of Unalaq could *maybe* work b/c he is the antagonist, so someone who strays from the NWT cultural tradition in a way that makes his view of morality more black and white wouldn’t be a *horrible* idea for the bad guy of the season. Especially because the introduction of capitalism to the A:TLA universe could probably cause a substantial shifts to… idk, everything i guess, b/c capitalism is so corrosive. Like. Sometimes people are just traitors. I do think it would be interesting to portray the way capitalism manifests in a society without white christians. Like… I do think there are a lot of ways secular christianity and capitalism are interlinked. But Unalaq is not portrayed as an outsider, he’s portrayed as hyper-traditionalist in a way that’s vilified? I guess rightly so, he does suck, but it’s just hard to conceptualize how a person like Unalaq comes to exist in the first place. In the end, I don’t really think it makes sense, in a world without white people, I don’t really know where this introduction of black and white christian morality would even come from in the avatar world?

TL;DR, Bryke applying western christian morality & world views to non-white characters in a world where white people have NEVER existed to affect our beliefs is a subtle form of white-washing. It imposes simplified “good vs. evil” world-views & cultural beliefs onto its characters. Any attempt to represent or even just integrate our actual beliefs into the A:tla lore are twisted and misrepresented is a way that is disrespectful and saps out any nuance or intrigue from the story, and alienates the people its supposed to represent from recognizing themselves within the final product. And Finally, on a more superficial story level, these writing choices clashe with the already existing world of ATLA--and is honestly just poor world-building.

[bowtied-pasta]

Soulmate marathon part 1

You share your soulmates knowledge

Character: Eyeless Jack

At this point, you knew your soulmate was in the medical field or at least going to school for it. All the things he knows about the human body, how to cut, sew, implant. He had to be getting along in school just fine.

With your soulmate being so far along in school and knowing as much as he did, he was dedicated to the craft and was likely on track to become a surgeon if not a nurse.

That was.... before the knowledge that popped into your brain every day turned a bit darker. It worried you. Yeah, he was obviously in medical school, or maybe he’s graduated and working as a nurse... but the things you know about how certain organs taste.... raw....well, it left little wonder as to why you had stopped eating red meat.

You fear your soulmate to be an angel of death or something of the sort. A kind nurse that says they’ll do everything they can to help only to come in the night and give an overdose of painkillers to a patient that didnt even need them. But that wouldnt explain the blantant canibalism.

Of course medical knowledge also somehow gave way to deeper and deeper occult knowledge. Things you honestly couldnt understand yourself, but your soulmate seemingly could without a problem. Knowledge of things that werent human. Some that used to be human, others that never were and never will be.

All this led to some rather interesting research on your side. Research of the creatures that he seemingly knew. Research that narrowed your search down to a region of states that would be smart to avoid.... but youre his soulmate. He wouldnt hurt you, right? Not on purpose hopefully. Besides, it seemed you were already living in the region that would be prime for running into him.

Of course, you knew he was also aware of your findings. He knows youre doing research. Trying to find him. He was probably doing the same, hopefully not to do anything malicious... of course as his soulmate you trusted him not to hurt you, but going into this as blind as you were, you trusted nothing but yourself and what you knew. No matter how much you wanted to trust him blindly.

All your research eventually leads you to believe that he could be in two different kinds of places. An abandoned building or the woods. Abandoned buildings were suprisingly few and far between from what you could find, your searches on those having come up mostly fruitless with the few that had potential coming up empty or seemingly taken up by squaters that you had no desire to speak to directly, in fear of a fight.

That left you with the woods. It had been a last resort kind of thing for you as the woods were ridiculously well known for being the worst place a person could go, no matter the time of day. Locals would avoid going too deep. The walking trails never being strayed from as the last group of wild teens that had attempted to do so on a dare had disappeared. Searches yeilded nothing, and those had been tedious as even authorites were on edge to go too deep into the trees. 

Rumors of monsters, demons, killers and ghosts... it was almost positively the place he would be. You had just hoped you wouldnt end up having to go in.

Which is why you sit on a park bench, eyes on the treeline as you contemplate your choices. You could walk for a bit, but it still isnt guaranteed that you would be okay. Only groups ever turned out okay, and the less people in the group the lower the success rate of coming back it seemed, so your measly party of one wouldnt make the cut if your luck was still the same.

Not to mention the fog seemingly pouring out of the trees had your hair standing on end with a deep emptiness in your gut. Whatever controlled that forest didnt want you in it, that much was very clear, and you were more than happy to listen to it. Having done the math, you only had another hour or two of sunlight, the sun setting earlier around this time of year and night lasting longer. Just fine by you, but not the best time to get lost in the woods and murdered by a monster.

You were too wrapped up in your thoughts to notice as a man approched your bench. Taking a seat on the opposite end so that there was still as much space as possible, but making it very clear that he sat next to you on purpose. Your gaze snaps from the trees to him, sizing him up and taking him in.

He was big, very big. You dont see a lot of people that tall, regardless of gender, seven feet being pretty ridiculous given what you’d grown up around. Needless to say, from his height alone, you wouldnt be able to take him. His face was obscured by a hood over his head, dark ginger hair peeking out from under the blue fabric. He sat hunched, keeping his head tilted slightly away from you, he spoke before you could.

“What are you here for?”

The question simple, your answer was too. That doesnt mean you knew how to make it simple, especially since you were almost positive you were currently talking to a serial killer.

“Lots of research led me here. Couldnt have found it without my soulmate though... hey, you wouldnt happen to know any organ eating medical nerds would you?”

With his silence you assume you had said the wrong thing, sealing your fate as the next victim of the woods regardless of the fact that you hadnt even step foot in it yet, only to find that he had tilted his head in your direction. Blue mask peaking out from under his hood, you knew for a fact that you are facing a horror from the trees.

“I do happen to know one, but before that topic can go much further I’m gonna have to ask just exactly how you feel about that.”

His words seemingly chosen carefully. This was your test, all you had to do was not fail it seemed. What the right answers were though, well you suppose you’d just have to be honest.

“Well.... I was pretty scared at first. I thought he was just going to be a medical student. Be a doctor some day... but then the cult stuff happened. He started to know things about demons and monsters and he knew what raw organs tasted like... I was scared... but I decided that I could try. He’s my soulmate, so the least I could do was try. Find him. Figure him out. Give him a chance. Maybe it could be explained away, but I knew that wasnt very likely, just a stupid thought from the kinder side of my brain. Ive known for some time that my soulmate was a killer, to some extent, and now I just want to try. For us.”

You looked over at him after you finished rambling. He appeared unmoved by your words. Having not said a thing or even adjusted himself in his seat, still as a statue. Appearing to contemplate your words, he finally sighs before standing to his full height. Staring down at you from behind his mask where it appeared his eyes were black pits of darkness.

“Well then, soulmate, I guess my chance starts now. If youre still willing, that is.”

[lime-gutz]

The mercs with a SO with telekinetic abilities? Kinda like Stephen King’s Carrie White ( can usually control it but sometimes will go into a trance and cause all sorts of anarchy when horribly overwhelmed) If you don’t want to do all of them how about medic, scout, and spy :3

OOOOOOO okay that concept sounds really fucking interesting. As we all know the tf2 universe is wack as hell and so like, yeah this concept..

Let's get general hcs out of the way before going into specifics with each of the 3 to give everyone a better understanding of like...my thought process??? (I'll mention the other ones in passing through this but I'll be focusing on the specific 3 you've given me).

I imagine if there was such a 10th class, one that is telekinetic, I'll be calling them the Telepath as their class name, I assume would have gotten such an ability through means of. Well. Obviously telekinesis is very not normal so this could go lots of ways, taking into account that you mention specifically causing anarchy when overwhelmed/experiencing a breakdown I wanna be fun and say the Telepath got this ability in the form of a curse. (For what? Idk have fun with deciding, I'd like to hear!)

I would like to say they've been experiencing this curse for years of their life and had grown old enough with it to the point of knowing how to keep such an ability in check as, when not doing that it could lead to dire consequences. That being in the form of a completely wrecked house or general surroundings.

So by the time they were employed as a mercenary they are well fitted with the knowledge of how they know it works, how they personally deal with it, how far this ability can really go as in they know their limits, and how to control/keep themselves in check as to not break anything..doesn't mean that absolutely nothing happens of course but for the most part, is able to keep things unbroken.

Now, with that out of the way, let's get into the 3 specific mercs you've picked for me to talk about.

Medic:

(General)

You had his attention ever since he read the words "Telekinetic" on your papers that were given for him to observe any medical records! He was excited to meet you..and experiment on/with you specifically. No doctor just has patients with telekinesis!! He's most definitely going to take every opportunity he can to run experiments on you to see just how much the difference goes between you and just a normal human subject.

Practically bouncing on the heels of his feet, his hand lightly shaking under your firm hold of a handshake, an unsettling grin on his features as you both shook has when you first met but..again! He was excited and eager to start whenever he can with the experiments he has planned.

Insanely talkative with you during said experiments. He gets like this when he's eager to devour any knowledge and experience he can get his bloodied hands on..and talking helps him think more. He can talk about just. Super casual things that has nothing to do with what he's doing or talking about what he's doing in the moment (although you're not sure if it's for your sake or if it's just a habit he does for himself.)

Finds it absolutely rejuvenating to watch you fight on the field. You're really something! It's glorious to see your telekinesis abilities in action, while your abilities can only do so much, the much it could do was such a sight! Ohoho!! How you can break enemy bones, their blood decorating the hot sandy grounds of the desert, how you can use the rough terrain to your advantage and gain the upper hand..You're thrilling to watch.

While he can see some restraint on your part when it comes to keeping your emotions in check the best way you possibly can, (as he is well aware of what can come of you becoming wildly overwhelmed) He still chooses to work with you more on how to better your ways of doing so...better??

He's not the most patient man, not by a wide margin or patient in any sense of the word, he has to understand that it also wouldn't be wise to just. Fly off the handle when getting frustrated with you in particular for whatever reason as doing so would result in a completely wrecked base. He keeps this in mind because once they've all experienced such an attack its not really something that you can really forget ya know? That's not to say he's softer with you when talking to you or being less blunt but he can show some restraint on his own emotions just a bit for you.

(Romantic)

-apologies if the telekinetics aren't really talked about here, I feel like overall telekinetics are used more so on the battle field and not for everything the Telepath does

Realizes that overall, you've done a good job managing yourself when it comes to being grounded and staying calm in situations where he could even say he probably wouldn't be as calm. Accompany this with you willingly working with him to find perhaps even better solutions to better dealing with it and you then gain just a bit of admiration on the "doctor's" part.

I view Medic as someone who's generally more willing to let looser when he's around someone he's particularly close with. More fun, less...serious if you will?? Sure he's generally jovial and not serious, but I imagine he's even more so when around company he actually enjoys being around so it's no surprise it's what he started doing with you if you both actually gained a bit of a friendship.

It's a common occurrence to see you both messing with each other in a playful manner, nothing downright cruel or mean, just playful. Ex. When he tries the "Ohoho! You can't possibly reach what you're wanting! Look at how short you are compared to me!" Being a tall man and holding something out of your reach to which using your telepathetic abilities you're able to slip said thing out of his hands quite easily, which leaves the man chuckling as he means it all in good fun.

If you're sitting there like "wtf I want some soft stuff too give it to me you bitch" I reply "okay man mfuck" and give you the softer stuff like, right now. Never fails to get a small smile out of him if you were to use your telekinetics to just brush a stray hair our of his face and smooth it back in place to keep his hair neat. Or if you use it to push his spectacles gently back on his face correctly and no longer crooked on his nose.

Enjoys just the simple touches such as you hooking his arm with yours as he works for a little bit if the work he's doing doesn't require a lot of movement, or just a simple kiss to his cheeks and nose..maybe a peck to his lips if he's busy with something. Not to say he doesn't enjoy more lingering touches when he's not horribly busy however!

Quite enjoys laying his head against yours and leaning some of his body weight onto yours and you doing the same back to him as to balance the both of you out into something more comfortable. He finds that your presence is good to have while he works, helps him feel down to earth and less tightly wrapped in his spiels of thoughts.

Scout:

(General)

Finds that your presence and abilities are both handy on field, although he insists you're not as good as him..he's not gonna not give you credit for how utterly fucking cool it is to see someone use something that resembles literal super powers!! But! He also finds your skills useful for playing any tricks on an unsuspecting teammate...if you're in on it of course, if not he'll complain and whine to you that you should at least try it with him and to think of how cool and funny it would be if you did.

Beg you to do things like, for instance, could you make him fly in the air? Your abilities can only go so far of course and not wanting to disappoint, you were successful!...for a few minutes before his ass flopped onto the floor and he got a bloody nose. However as if blood was not dripping from his face currently he was insistent that they have got to try it again sometime!! Flying felt so cool!!

Probably the teammate who has the most interest in your abilities solely for the fact he thinks it's super cool and only thinks of cool ways for you to use it cause..c'mon!!! He doesn't understand why you wouldn't just use it all the time it would make SO many things easier!!

In an attempt to understand you as a person better and how you live with such an ability he's keen on asking questions if you don't get annoyed with him asking so many and then shooing him off. His questions are more so for curiosity and getting to know you reasons as opposed to Medic's who curiosity was mostly scientific.

He's a dude who has a sense of longing to have..someone to like/relate to. Someone to trust and call his friend! And if you're able to show him that you're someone who can deal with his antics, questions, and things that others will find annoying but are things you accept of him..hey man. You got his loyalty and friendship. Take good care of that.

He really likes to talk about just a bunch of things if you're someone he considers a friend. He's not holding back! He's gonna let you hear all of thoughts he has in the world! Or..talk to you about more serious things that only you as friends would share with each other and no one else perhaps...his worries with his mom and knucklehead brothers, or you and your worries.

(Romantic)

Scout is someone that could be described as super touchy with those he feels close enough to. Which st this base, he doesn't consider anybody quite close enough for anyone to ever see. 'Cept you of course. Growing closer to Scout he's way more comfortable wrapping an arm over your shoulders, giving you side hugs, bumping your side with his affectionately and such.

Okay in his defense with that date he tried to set up with Pauling he totally wasn't expecting a giant fucking mutant bread to come and attack the lot of them so, technically while Spy considers him a failure in the department of wooing women the set up of the date wasn't....horrible???? I mean. It looked like a prom yeah but hey! He's learned a thing or 2 from that experience and so he's more likely to have something at least slightly suited more to your tastes since he's gotten to know you better.

You like to push his cap over his eyes quickly with just a flick of your telekinesis before battle starts, leaving him to laugh and fix it before he quickly and effortlessly catches right back up to you anyways. It's okay though, he gets you back later by pressing a cold beer to your neck if the battle is won.

If given the go ahead by you he'll sit with you somewhere and have either an arm draped over your shoulder or your head on his chest as drones on and on about whatever it is he's currently thinking about. He likes talking, and you like listening to him talk even if you don't follow every single thing he says, you get some comfort out of it.

He won't admit to anyone..but you maybe, that your a huge softspot he has. Like, his family is his softspot..and with family that includes his mom, his brothers, and you to some extent, and he'll be sure to remind you every now and again that he's loyal to you and only you. You can trust him when tells you, but reminding you about that fact never hurts!

Overall, he trusts and loves you to the fullest and he can only hope that you return both of those in full back to him. He's indulged the most information about himself personally and his worries to you and only you, and you've done the same for him.

Spy:

(General)

Standoffish with you in your initial meeting. Your first impression of him was one you couldn't really say was kind or nice in anyway. While the man wasn't downright cruel he still couldn't be described as nice. After all, he did blow smoke in your face upon initial meeting. However, you didn't return this first impression in kind back as you were quick to gather the smoke blown at you in a sphere kind of shape and have it blown right back in his own face, his expression souring quite a bit.

He can be mad all he wants, but you let it be known on your first meeting that you're not letting yourself get pushed around. Something that while not in that moment, he grows to appreciate and admire that you're not gonna let people like him walk all over you.

Once you've proven your worth as a teammate to be welcomed on the team by proving yourself in the face of battle, he's lightens up on you considerably. He views his actions as a sort of..tough love kind of situation if you will. He figures that, if you're really deemed fit enough to have your own spot on the team with the rest of them..then he has no need to keep being tough on you as he thinks it would no longer be necessary if you're already here to stay correct?

Finds some of your antics when using your telekinesis amusing..not that he would admit that out loud of course. You swear you might of heard a sucking in of breath to laugh, soft chuckles, or hell even a few snorts from this man a few times when you mess with people but..you also didn't have proof it was him so you wouldn't know completely.

Has admitted to you at one point that you were more tolerable to be around as opposed to the other teammates, not to say that none of them could hold good conversation no, but most could get a bit tiring to socialize with and it was quick to make him want to reside back in his smoking room. You however, were someone he can actually bear to talk to for more than an hour.

Can also admire your skill and how well in check you can keep yourself, it shows serious restraint on your part and that's not so easy for everyone. He finds it admirable that you try so hard as to not cause any kind of harm to anyone or break anything.

(Romantic)

Okay dunno if you can tell but this guy is very much not a low key kind of partner. He's one to shell out quite a pretty penny on gifts he knows you'll enjoy or dates he takes you on. It's a love language of his.

Is also not low key at all when it comes to affection much in public. Hand holding, kisses to the corner of your mouth, kisses to your hands and forehead, the works of that sort but is sure to not overwhelm you if you're not to heavy on that.

You can give the love back whenever you're on the base, super simple things that sure, aren't as out there as Spy's but are gestures he can appreciate no matter how small they are. Using your telekinesis to fetch him a lighter from across the room as to not have him get up to retrieve it, or to use it to tidy up his tie or flick dust and dirt off of his pristine suit.

You find that although unwilling to part with too much information himself, he's very much listening to things you have to say. A sharp eared good listener if you will, he supposes all of those years of eavesdropping on his end has done him some good as he's very much still listening even though he may be occupied with something.

Indulges himself in your company far more than anyone else. Mostly in the dark evenings as he's usually off doing his own things after battle whatever those things may be. Isn't one to talk about work when everyone is clearly not having to do it as of right now, he just wants to wind down at least a tad (as he never allows himself to completely relax as that would pose a danger to the kind of job he has of course.)

Finds that your a good reading partner, not for reading out loud to or you reading out loud for him but, you're someone good to be around if you wish to work around someone who has a bit of life around them as although silent in speech you're not silent in activities that don't require talking. Reading for example, you don't speak but you're also not silent, your soft breathing, maybe the quiet whistle of your nose as you breath out, the light sound of your bouncing your leg against fabric, or just the sound of rustling and turning pages. It calms him.

[istgimamess]

Reaction: [ S t r a y K i d s ] finding out their s/o is a [ S u p e r n a t u r a l C r e a t u r e ]

"...hi it's the anon from yesterday! so I'm not sure what way you do your reactions but something i haven't seen yet but would like to is a reaction to finding out that either their s/o or friend, whichever you'd prefer, is a supernatural creature (like werewolf, fae, witch, shape shifter, mermaid, demon, angel, anything really) for stray kids!

let me know if I didn't give you info that you need for a reaction or... if there are any problems with my request, I'm kind of shooting blindly since you don't have rules or anything right? so yea, i hope this is fine tho..."

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[ C h a n ] finds out you’re an [ A n g e l ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ C o n c e r n e d ]

^ he’s logical, fair and patient—he’s known for having a logical minds and a fair judgment. He strives for fairness and justice constantly. This makes him a  wonderful mediator. He’ll analyze every situation with his little legal eagle brain and logical mind; with the help of that he can organize all things well and eliminate the irrelevant. So when you finally admit to being an angel, show him your wings, he’ll most like keep quiet. 

^ also, he’s a great listener—he’ll most definitely listen to your side of the story before making any irrational decisions about your relationship. This goes back to his logical, fair and patient way of thinking; he’ll most likely just sit there quietly and let you do the talking, the explaining. ^ he soaks up all the ideas and information around him like a big brainy sponge. He hates conflicts and confrontations and always watches his words while communicating, talking in a way as to not offend you. When he finally does say something, his words will be well thought out, calculated.

^ he always knows a lot more than he lets on, most likely he already knew you were abnormal—a bit different—from the very start of your relationship. And he was just waiting for you to get comfortable enough to admit it to him, to officially let him in on the secret.

^ he’s very understanding. He’s very thoughtful and interprets things that most people miss out on. This will be beneficial to you when you begin to try and explain to him why you kept this a huge secret for such a long time. He’ll see that it, your unwillingness to tell anybody your origin story, has nothing to do with him not being worthy of knowing. He won’t take it personally.

^ he’ll tell you like it is, straight up, because he’s an honest and upfront person. He’ll wait until you’ve finished explaining and when you question him on his thoughts and feelings in the moment, he won’t sugar coat it—which can be both good and bad.

^ but, also, he can smell bullshit from a mile away. If you omit any significant details, or lie in any way, he will catch on almost instantly. And he won’t be happy.

^ he’s loyal to the bone and fiercely protective of you; finding out you’re an angel won’t change that. If anything, he’ll feel even more protective of both you and your secret. ^ he’ll forgive but never forget. Even though he won’t show it on the surface, he’ll be extremely hurt that it took you so long to tell him. Logically he knows it has nothing to do with him, but emotionally it will feel like you just don’t trust him enough. He’ll forgive you for keeping such a monumental secret, but he’ll never forget that feeling. But once he listens to your story, does his own research, his concern for you will outweigh those hurt feelings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So I did some research,” he trailed off, you jerked at the echo of his voice in the otherwise silent room.

“Research? On what?” you gaze over at him, not quite meeting his eyes.

“You. Well, angel’s in general, but mostly you.” his voice is much lower, the silence drags on for a moment too long. It’s suddenly stifling. 

“And?” you breath out, still caught off guard.

“What does Éloa mean?” he questions, taking a step around the bed to face you, get a better look. You narrowed your gaze, heart suddenly in your throat. How did he find that name? Did he know? Was he just testing you? You take a deep breath, eyes dropping down to the carpet beneath his bare feet. You decide to just answer him, literally. “It’s the name of an angel.” He tilts his head, contemplatively. And there is something dangerous in his eyes, something you can’t quite place. “I’ve never heard of him.” “You wouldn’t have.” you pull the blanket closer to you, resisting the sudden urge to spread your wings, stretch them wide and flee.  “Was he a fallen angel?” his eyes are darker now, assessing, he definitely knows. You know he knows. So why wasn’t he saying? “She was, yes.” you hesitate, not wanting to give too much of your past away, but unable to stop yourself. “Lucifer tricked her into falling from heaven.” “Tricked her how?” he was still standing above you, he wouldn’t approach you, hasn’t since the night he caught you in full form.  You meet his gaze. “She fell in love with him.” His eyes narrowed, his face pulled into a grimace. How disgusting must it feel to find out your girlfriend is not only a fallen angel, but also a fallen angel who was once in love with Lucifer. You shrink, your wings drawing in closer to your body. “Did he love her?” Like an addict loves his addiction, you think, bitterly.. “The only way he knew how.”  He must have been able to see the pain in your eyes because, for a moment, pure concern crossed his features. He shook his head, schooling his expression once again. “How could he trick her?” “He never told her his name.” you whisper, your voice breaking. And suddenly he wasn’t across the room, standing above you at a distance—he was right in front of you, knee on the bed, arms around your shoulders. “Shhh, it’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it now.” He reached forward to cup your cheek, the touch surprising you. "Please understand that no matter what you are or what has happened in your past, I am yours. I am devoted to you above all else, including my own life."

You exhaled after holding your breath for what felt like forever, tears spilling over in excess. "That's pretty heavy, Chan." His expression was impassioned, and the backs of his fingers brushed the side of your neck, thumbs wiping away the wetness on your cheeks. "It is a burden I am glad to carry.” ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[ C h a n g b i n ] finds out you’re a [ W e r e w o l f ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ C u r i o u s ] ^ he’s kind and protective. He feels responsible and is always willing to help you out when you’re in need. He will go to great lengths to make sure that you feel loved and you’re happy. He will always stand up for the underdog, (no werewolf pun intended.) This is beneficial to you because his compassionate heart will win out over his logical mindset. 

 ^ he’s extremely loyal. If there’s one trait imbedded in him, it is his loyalty. He physically won’t be able to turn his back on you—werewolf or not.

^ he’s also very honest. He tends to be extremely direct and straightforward with you. He gives honest feedback to you when you ask for it. He would never speak a white lie just to avoid conflict, or be deemed reasonable, so you wouldn’t have to worry about him bottling up his true thoughts, opinions and emotions on the subject. 

 ^ that being said, his honesty often comes off as excessive bluntness. Therefore, at first, you might catch some heat in that department. 

^ he, at times, can be very inflexible. When he has committed to something, in this case a way of thinking, he’ll fight tooth and nail to stick to that way of thinking. Regardless of how much proof he has in front of him, it will be difficult to convince him otherwise—especially when he grew up believing that werewolves were myth, not real.

^ once he has a significant amount of proof, though, he’ll be insanely curious on the matter and his crazy sense of humor will resurface.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait, are you an alpha? An omega? Do you turn when you feel threatened?” his wide eyes, his random questioning—it all catches you off guard.

“I’m considered a dominant amongst my pack. And, yes, I guess I would if I felt threatened.” you nod slowly, holding his gaze. You’re the werewolf here, the freak of nature, but this boy—this human—is the weird one. 

“What’s a dominant? Are they more important than a submissive?” he crawls closer to you, his jeans catching on the carpet beneath you.

“Not necessarily. A submissive wolf is not incapable of protecting themselves: they can fight, they can kill as readily as any other. They are a treasure in a pack, just as important. A source of purpose and of balance.” you catch yourself quoting your great grandmother, the very first female dominant in your pack, a rare, smart, capable wolf.

“Then why does the dominant wolf exist? If a submissive wolf is just as capable, just as important, why make the distinction?” he interjects, your baffled at his level of curiosity.

“Because even through submissives are just as capable and important, they’re very different. It’s a dominants job to protect those beneath them.” you pause momentarily, watch a multitude of expressions cross his face. “Protecting a submissive is far more rewarding because a submissive will never wait until you are wounded or your back is turned to see if you are truly dominant to them. Submissive wolves can be trusted. And they unite the pack with the goal of keeping them safe and cared for.”

There is a long moment where you just stare at each other, his eyes glazed over, a childlike expression on his face. “So you’re a werewolf trapped in a human body?”

You stifle a laugh, unable to control your facial expression. "Well, yeah, that's kind of the definition."

"No, really. You’re trapped?” his eyes widen slightly, he leans forward, anticipating your answer.

"Oh? Are you trying to ask me the last time I shifted?" you voice, confusion written all over your face.

“Yes.” he nods enthusiastically. You briefly debate telling him about the traffic incident, but ultimately decide against lying.

“On your birthday.” you admit, sheepishly. “There was a lot of traffic and I was running late.” you trail off, suddenly awkward. But then he laughs, big and loud, throwing his head back.

“That’s so cool! I want to be a werewolf. How do I get a werewolf to attack me?" he smiles wide. And you roll your eyes, shake your head in pseudo disappointment. “Stand in the middle of a forest under a full moon with a raw steak tied to your face, holding a sign that says, 'Eat me; I'm stupid'?”

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[ H y u n j i n ] finds out you’re a [ M e r m a i d ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ P r a c t i c e d ]

^ he’s very empathetic with a lively imagination and a friendly disposition. He has a boundless capacity for empathy even with those who he barely sees eye to eye with. This is great for you because, even if he is initially angry that you kept such a secret from him, he’ll still empathize with your situation, your story.

^ he’s more emotional than your average guy. He is intune and prone to the infectious emotion of those around him. If he see tears, he will likely cry. If he can sense hurt in your voice, it will sadden him also. 

^ he will love you unconditionally no matter what or who you are.  ^ he’s selfless and generous. No matter how big the secret, how hurt he is from your omission, he will always be there when you need someone. Because he is so practiced in the idea that he can’t live without you, he will always show up when you need him.

^ that being said, because of his idealistic nature, you can often find him walking alone. He can be overly trusting and it often leaves him feeling betrayed, hurt and vulnerable. He might view your lack of openness, truthfulness, as a betrayal within your relationship. And that might make conversation with him, for a while, very stilted. He’ll seem impassive at first, but he will eventually warm back up to you.

^ he’s not one to give up easily. He puts in the work to get what he wants in life and he won’t let it slide away without a fight. He won’t let you go over something like this, not after he’s just got you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There, with bare feet and drenched hair, you were crouched like a child. Upon hearing him approach, you looked up, peered into his dark, hesitant eyes. You wore only an enormous men’s sweater, his sweater—with no extravagant pattern or color, the sweater was a dull beige. Your knees were pulled up inside of it, thin pale ankles peeking out from underneath. The wool sweater alone was dry, as the rest of your head, hands, and feet were as wet as if you’d just been pulled from drowning. Tiny rivers flowed off your hair and pooled on the wool sweater, leaving it dark in splotches. Water droplets glistened on your skin, not running off, as though they couldn’t quite bear to leave you. His eyes held yours in a way his hands did not. His empathetic gaze schooled, his expression practiced, controlled.

“So...a mermaid?” you twist your head the other direction, his voice breaking your concentration momentarily. At this he took a sudden step forward, as if compelled. He had caught a glimpse of pink gills under your chin, his busy eyes dancing along your neck with a new found curiosity. You became overwhelmingly self conscious, tucking your chin, keeping your neck hidden from his view. It had always taken your gills longer to disappear than your tail. 

“My mother told me stories of mermaids. She said they sometimes sing to humans to lure them underwater.” his voice trailed off, momentarily. “But you have a horrible voice.” your gaze snaps up, catching the mischievous look in his eye, his grin.

His teasing catches you off guard, you fumble with your words, “Yeah, well...I've been practicing. Want to hear?” you glare at him, halfheartedly.

He lets out a soft laugh, “I'm always happy when I'm surrounded by water, I think I'm a Mermaid too...or at least, I was a mermaid in a past life.” he crouches down, he’s much closer to you now.

“Are you in pain?” you choke out, the idea of him hurting, in any way, unbearable to you. You don’t know why you asked that, he’s obviously just joking—keeping a steady conversation with you, trying to keep you calm.

“Pain? Why would I be in—” he trails off, eyes snapping in your direction. “Wait, are you in pain?” the absolute, genuine concern in his voice has you pulling up short. Your breathing shallow.

“Mermaids hurt when we’re in human form.” you admit, quietly, eyes glued to the rocks on the horizon.

“But...but you never look like you’re in pain, you’re always smiling, always so...graceful—” he cuts himself off abruptly, eyes narrowed. It’s as if he’s angry at himself for not catching on to your discomfort much sooner. “What does it feel like?”

“When your tail divides and shrinks until it becomes legs, it’s very painful. It feels as if a sharp sword is slashing through you. Everyone who sees a mermaid on legs will say that they are the most graceful human being they’ve ever laid eyes on—” you remember, vividly, all the times you were complemented for your gliding movement; not even a seasoned dancer is able to tread as lightly as you. “But every step you take feels as if you are treading upon knife blades so sharp that blood must flow.”

There is silence, the ocean waves brushing against the sand, caressing the shore—it’s the only noise you hear for a moment. 

“Then shall I take you home and put you in the bathtub?” his unsystematic question is enough to pull you out of your thoughts completely, his brand of humor easily calming you in your panicked state. You’re suddenly very thankful.

“How do you always know just what to say?" you ask, a smile on your lips. His laugh rumbles through you as he puts his arm around your damp shoulders. "Practice, I guess."

You pull back and give him a quizzical look.

"I spent three years imagining what I would say to you if you were mine," he says, tugging you closer. “I should hope I know what to say now that I've finally got you.” ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[ J i s u n g ] finds out you’re a [ D e m o n ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ B e w i l d e r e d ]

^ he’s very intelligent and he’s always ready to expand his knowledge reserves. He usually has a systematic approach to life, he always ensures that he doesn’t miss any loophole behind. So when he finds out about you being a demon, he’s both bewildered and inquisitive.

^ he’s usually very calm and collected on the surface. But underneath he has a great intensity that demands he bring order to his world. He struggles with the need to rearrange his frantic interior beneath the calm exterior until everything is perfect. This might make him seem more freaked out, frightened, than he actually is.

^ he is highly patient with you and always tries to find the good in everything around him. So in reality, even though he initially seems frazzled at your confession, he will actually give you enough time to fix up your act—explain yourself—when need be.

^ he can, at times, be very judgmental. He tends to appraise and judge people based on one particular viewpoint in that person’s life—especially if he doesn’t know that person well enough. That being said, your relationship is solid enough to outlast his initial judgment.

^ he can also be very fussy, as sometimes he gets lost in the details. His strong likes and dislikes make him quite finicky at first. And he’ll definitely feel some type of way that you kept him in the dark for so long.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ All the demons of Hell formerly reigned as gods in previous cultures. No it's not fair, but one man's god is another man's devil. As each subsequent civilization became a dominant power, among its first acts was to depose and demonize whoever the previous culture had worshipped. The Jews attacked Belial, the god of the Babylonians. The Christians banished Pan and Loki, the respective deities of the ancient Greeks and Celts. The Anglican British banned belief in the Australian aboriginal spirits known as the Mimi. Satan is depicted with cloven hooves because Pan had them, and he carries a pitchfork based on the trident carried by Neptune. As each deity was deposed, it was relegated to Hell. For gods so long accustomed to receiving tribute and loving attention, of course this status shift put them into a foul mood.

And when Hell, itself, was in a foul mood, demons—specifically the ones planted here on earth—got the brunt of it. So to say you were in a bad mood would be an understatement. In hindsight, it might not have been the best decision on your part to agree to speak with Jisung about your origins in that moment.

“It’s not fair.” his voice wavers, the emotional confrontation taking a toll on him.

“What, that I’m a demon or that you managed to date me?” you bit out, tersely. “Don’t.” his voice was abruptly dark. 

“No, you’re right, it’s not fair—but what makes earth feel like Hell is your expectation that it should feel like Heaven. Earth is earth. Dead is dead. Good is rarely good and bad is always bad. You’ll find out for yourself soon enough. It won’t help the situation for you to get all upset.” you snap back at him, voice just as dark.

‘‘What’s that supposed to mean? Are you threatening me now?” his eyes narrow.

“How miserably hypocritical,” you respond with a growl. “You think it’s such a burden for you to be tricked into dating the devils servant? What about the burden of me being me?” your voice is much lower now, your practically spitting venom in his direction. “No sooner am I offered a chance to flee Hell than I yearn to stay.”

“I didn’t want this.” his dark eyes, his bewildered gaze reflecting a huge amount of regret.

“Few families hold their relations as closely as do prisons. Few marriages sustain the high level of passion that exists between criminals and those who seek to bring them to justice. It’s no wonder the Zodiac Killer flirted so relentlessly with the police. Or that Jack the Ripper courted and baited detectives with his—or her—coy letters. We all wish to be pursued. We all long to be desired. That’s what I did, I pursued you, I desired you. Anything beyond that is your fault.” you turn, ready to flee out the door, the overwhelming urge to hurt something, someone, frightening you.

“My fault!? Is it my fault that I want you? That I want that feeling of standing with you against all odds and succeeding? That I want it so bad, I’d risk destroying everything I’ve worked for?” he spits at your back, crossing the room in a long stride to block your path to the door. “Is that my fault? I should walk away. But all I want to do is follow you, out that door, down the street, all the way back to hell.” his fists are clenched, his face red, you’ve never seen him so frustrated—with you or himself. “What the hell am I doing, falling in love with a demon?”  His sudden confession almost knocks you from your feet. Anger and confusion painting his face.

“You love me?” you whisper in a fit of shock.

“Yes.” he whispers right back, voice matching yours, as if his own confession shocked him as well.

“Enough to follow me all the way to hell?” you’re baffled.

“Well, according to Google, 98.3 percent of lawyers end up in Hell. That's in contrast to the 23 percent of farmers who are eternally damned. Some 45 percent of retail business owners are Hellbound, and 85 percent of computer software writers.” he hums to himself, pausing in thought. “Perhaps a trace number of musicians ascend to Heaven, but statistically speaking, 100 percent of them are cast into the fiery pit. As are essentially 100 percent of journalists and redheads.” he finishes with a satisfied nod. “Readheads?” you cock your eyebrow, completely thrown by the turn of conversation.

“What? I told you! I googled it.” he smiles, oddly proud of himself.

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[ F e l i x ] finds out you’re a [ V a m p i r e ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ P l a y f u l ]

^ like Jisung, he’s appears very calm and collected on the surface; he will struggle with his external facade and his internal need demanding order. This might make him seem very impassive in the moment, as he tends to shut down when confronted with mixed and conflicting emotions.

^ he has an analytical mind that can see things in black and white. He is capable of finding solutions to tough problems, always. He has a keen attention to detail, and likes to absorb everything before making a decision. So he will probably, like Chan, be very quiet and expressionless during your confession.

^ he has a very clever mind. And he will go through all possible elements of thinking before making any decision—so you won’t have to worry about fear, disgust or uncertainty driving him to make an impulsive decision about your relationship.

^ he’s very honest with you, he will always tell you exactly how he feel about you—to your face. He doesn’t like to sugar coat his words. For him, honesty is the best policy, even if the truth hurts. So when he does settle his mind, his inner conflict, enough to respond to you articulately—you might experience some unintentional savagery, but it most definitely will not last for long.

^ he’s pretty old school, a bit conservative and old fashioned. He’s not really into modern changes and prefers things in their old traditional ways. This is beneficial to you, in the given situation, because you are much much older than you seem. Your aura brings that old fashioned feel, and he will still appreciate that—even after realizing why.

^ once he wraps his head around the concept, around the idea of you being a vampire and living off of blood, he’ll be extremely playful. He’ll love to tease you, and honestly, he’s the type to be into a little blood play.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yeah, I get it, you're a vampire," he said. "Creepy. And okay, a little hot, I admit." 

"You don't mean that." you gape in his direction.  "Come on. I still like you, you know, even if you... crave plasma." You blink once, twice, and it’s as if you’ve never seen him before. “You what?"

"Like. You." Felix enunciated slowly, as if you might not know the words. "Idiot. I always have. What, you didn't know? We’re literally dating." he sounded cool and grown-up about it, but you saw the hectic color in his cheeks, under the moonlight.

"How clueless are you? Does it come with the fangs?" he sniffs, eyes darting around him, never really settling on you.

"I guess I...I just thought.... I don’t know. I just didn't think...You're kind of intimidating, you know." you finally admit. "I'm intimidating? Me? You’re the vampire here!” he spluttered out. "You're the one who's intimidating. I mean, come on. All that power, and you look... Well, you know how you look." 

"How do I look?" you were fascinated now, you moved a little closer to him on the couch. He laughed nervously. "Oh come on. You're a total model-babe." 

"You're kidding." you deadpan, completely caught off guard.

"You don't think you are?" he shot back at you, side eyeing your expression. You shook you head."Then you're kind of an idiot. Smart, but an idiot." he crossed his arms, momentarily lost in though. “So? What exactly do you think about me, except that I’m intimidating?” he questioned after a moment of silence.

“I think you’re…you’re…ah, interesting?” your the one tripping over your words now. If you were capable of blushing, you’d be beet red. “I think you’re kind of beautiful...for a human. And really, really strange.” You look away, keeping your eyes on the opposite wall.

“Beautiful? But I’m a boy.” he whines.

“Boys can be beautiful too, it’s not subjective to one gender. Besides, beauty is a state of being—it’s inside—not just physical attractiveness.” you reprimand him for his narrow mindedness.

He smiled and looked down, the color in his face deepened. “Thanks for that,” he murmured, “I thought you only considered me to be bratty.”

“Well, to be fair, you are bratty.” you smile, peeking at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Hey!” he gasps, affronted.

“What? You can be bratty and beautiful,” you shot back, repeating yourself once more. “I think it’s interesting.”  There was a beat of silence, “So, your not scared of me? You don’t hate me?” you whispered into the dark room. Before he could even open his mouth to reply, you continue, “I have been stabbed, shot, burned, bitten, beaten unconscious too many times to count, and even staked. None of those would hold a candle to the pain I’d feel if you hated me, if you were scared.”

His dark eyes find you in the light of the moon, his hand reaching out to intertwine with your. He opens his mouth, closes it and opens it once more—as if trying to articulate his feelings properly, as if trying to find the words. “That's pretty hot," his deep voice carries in the otherwise quiet room.

"What? Me being staked?" you admonished, unprepared for the turn of conversation.

"Well, no. Of course not. I meant the idea of getting rough with you is hot. I'm a big fan of full-contact sports." he wiggled his eyebrows in your direction, his voice playful, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Throwing your head back, you squeezed his hand, “I'm sure you are.” ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[ J e o n g i n ] finds out you’re a [ N y m p h ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ D e l i g h t e d ]

^ he’s incredibly open-minded and tends to think and do things differently than others. He thinks for himself and likes to keep an open mind about all things. He’s not the type to judge a book by its cover. So you won’t need to worry about any judgment being thrown your way.

^ he’s a true free spirit, meaning any attempts to keep him from being who he really is will make him turn away. This is great, because he has learned to treat others as he wishes to be treated; he won’t ask you to suppress who you are, or change in any way, for the fear that you might do the same to him.

^ he’ll most likely need some space and freedom to work through his thoughts on your unusual upbringing. However, he will be very vocal about exactly why he needs space, as to avoid any miscommunication. He would never up and leave you for being open and honest with him and he wouldn’t want you to think otherwise.

^ like Jisung, he is also quite the intellectual. He can amaze anyone with his original ideas; this is great because, right off the bat, he will be so overwhelmed with curiosity, overflowing with questions, he won’t have the time to be upset with you.

^ sure, he’s a bit of an intellectual rebel and he will loudly defend his opinions, but he’s also willing and open to learning. Ultimately, telling him you’re a forest nymph will be like telling him you had grapefruit for breakfast. He has a great power to form and understand abstract concepts and conform and adapt to new information like he’s known it his whole life—like it’s no big deal.

^ he’ll be delighted with your honesty, insanely curious and extremely playful.

^ he’s also very stubborn at times. It is often hard to change his mind about something once it is set for. But you’re close enough to actually succeed in this area, an area which others have failed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You wake up sudden—a chill crawling down your spine—in a puddle of cool sunlight. Your hands asleep beside you, your hair draped on the lawn like a mantle of cloth. Frost grows on the window glass, forming whirlpool patterns of lovely translucent geometry, and you stare up, momentarily forgetting where you are. Sitting up slowly, you lean forward and breath on the glass, giving the frost more ammunition. Now the winter nymphs can build castles and cities and whole ice continents with your breath’s vapor. In a few blinks you can almost see them moving in, ready to do their seasonal damage to your lovely forest, to your home.  That’s when you hear it, a shift in the cool grass. And suddenly he’s right there, crouched down beside you. He rocks forward, and hisses in an attempt to scare you out of your thoughts. But you knew he was there the entire time, you could sense his presence. He could never truly sneak up on you in the forest, not with the many trees and plants and animals—the many eyes and ears.

You turn to him, with a bored expression, “Really? That’s all you got?”

You stretch your wings, hear their crackle, as a show of complete content.

“Not fair! How did you know? I was really quiet this time!” he pouts, whining about how unfair it is. “Also, why are you out here? It’s kind of cold.” he finally sits down, pulling his knees up to his chest.

You shrug your shoulders, resisting the urge to smile. There’s a pause, a beat of silence, where you both gaze up at the outer side of the house; the windows covered in frost catching your attention, yet again. And then you feel his gaze on you.

“It’s nice.” he whispers and you turn your head to face him, confused.

“That you exist.” he smiles at you and you feel your heart drop.

“I think humans don’t want merely to see beauty...we want something else which can hardly be put into words—” he cuts himself off, momentarily, watching your face carefully. “We want to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to become part of it. I think that’s why we have peopled air and earth and water with gods and goddesses, and nymphs and elves.” he trails off again, and you’re left speechless. His dark eyes catching on the curves and lines of your face.  And then the moment is broken, he looks away, back up at the frost bitten windowsill. But your heart still thumps in your throat. “And this is nice," he begins with a sigh. "Like...one of those paintings where a nymph or Athena is drawing the gods and goddesses." your eyes follow his gaze back up to the windowsill, you see that he’s referring to the intricate designs hidden within the frost. Winter nymphs have a tendency to hide such patterns, such art, in their work.

You hum in agreement. “And here I was thinking you were an utterly uneducated human," you said teasingly.

"I am a student," he responded with hauteur. "I am classically educated.”

"Plus, nymphs are pretty," he adds, in after thought.

You laugh. "I could stare at them all day," he continued. His tone was carefully neutral, but his eyes never left yours. And you found you couldn’t look back, and not blush. He reached over, delicately pulling you into his side—it was only then that you realized how closely he held you, and how the gentle incline of the hill brought you almost eye to eye with him.

One side of his mouth twitched. "Your cheeks are like cherries." he chortled, delighted.

You tucked your chin into the wool of his coat. "It's cold," you said, defensively. He shook his head. "I am not complaining. I think they're rather charming. They make you look like a winter nymph.”

“I find that really offensive.” you grumble in response, the forest nymph and fairy blood in you disliking the comparison all together. He laughs, warmly, and pulls you even closer. ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[ S e u n g m i n ] finds out you’re a [ W i t c h ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ R e l u c t a n t ]

^ he’s highly reliable, it’s in his blood to keep up with commitments. People often completely rely on him to complete complicated tasks with efficiency and perfection as he is naturally very rational. It’s that rational side of his mind that will force him to listen to your explanation to the end.

^ he would never, consciously, let you down; he consistently gives his best to meet your expectations. He’s the first to answer your call and the last to leave a situation when you’re in need. This will be beneficial to you as he will be compelled to stop, listen and hear you out.

^ like Felix, he is extremely analytical. He will think everything through—weighing the options, good and bad—before making a decision about your relationship.

^ at first he’ll be quite reluctant, hesitant and unwilling to budge in his prejudice. It’s something he can’t help, growing up believing witches are evil, dark, dangerous and manipulative. But deep down he knows you, and this will be all he needs to encourage understanding and acceptance.

^ he’s a problem solver. He likes to tackle problems of close ones and the people around him. At first it might seem like he’s trying to control the situation, but you will soon realize that he is only analyzing your situation to find ways of helping you improve your life.

^ he can be critical at times, overly demanding. It’s because he already has a clear picture in his mind about how things should be done. But he’s also open to change, and once he comes to terms with your witchy ways, he will become the most supportive boyfriend you could ask for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “So tell me about it,” he interjected, pulling you away from your inner dialogue. 

“What?” you look up from your study table, eyes meeting his across the room.

“Are you a good witch or a bad witch? Do you practice Black Magic? Have you ever put me under a spell?” his face is blank, expressionless, but his voice gives away his anger and confusion.

“There is no such thing as White Magic or Black Magic.” you turn you head away from him, unable to accept him being so cold and cruel to you. “If you are participating in magic, you are interfering with the natural order of how life would have developed without your hand in it. You are manipulating reality to suit your own personal needs. Regardless of whether you perceive it as "positive" or "white light", you are manipulating life. And just like life, it’s not black and white, all good or all bad.” you trail off, your stomach in knots. It’s best to be truthful, you know this, but it hurts you to think that something like this could damage you relationship. Or worse, end it. You feel the telltale signs of tears forming in your eyes, the heat almost unbearable.

“And no, I’ve never—I would never use it on you.” there is a brief silence and despite him approaching you, stepping much closer, you resolutely keep your eyes lowered. 

“Can you tell me about them?” his voice was much softer now, much too close. You look up into his eyes and realize he’s referring to the plants on your bed side table. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, slowly stand up from the chair and turn towards your bed.

“These are tropical palms. They bring strong solar energy into your home that break up stale energy, and keep your home safe from nasty spiritual entities.” you trail off, carefully watching his expression. “This right here is African violet, and it’s associated with love and magic. But I use it because it’s vibrant purple flowers pull lunar energy into your home. Lunar energy is most important to those in my coven.” you whisper, the vivid memory of your grandmother and aunt surrounding themselves, filling their homes, with African violets almost brings tears to your eyes. “Aloe is associated with the water element because the gel inside the leaves. They’re cooling and healing.” you continue on, pulling yourself out of your reminiscing. 

Finally you turn to the last plant, your moms personal favorite. “The clusters of star shaped flowers that grow on the long tendrils of the hoya, also called a wax plant, produce truly intoxicating nectar whose aroma fills the whole house. It also bestows blessings on anyone who smells it.”  You wait for him to say something, still avoiding his unnerving stare, unsure you want to even see his reaction.

“This stuff? These plants? They really mean a lot to you, don’t they?” his voice is barely there, a whisper, but his words still have the same affect. You blink, once, twice, and the tears you were so set on holding back, fall.

Suddenly he’s there, pulling you closer to him, guiding your head into the space between his neck and shoulder. His warm embrace is enough to comfort you by itself but he still whispers to you, “It’s okay, it’ll be okay. I’m not mad. I won’t leave you. It’s okay.”  And, for once, you truly believe it.

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[ M i n h o ] finds out you’re a [ S h a p e s h i f t e r ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ E n t h r a l l e d ]

^ he’s focused and competitive. When he wants something he just goes for it. Also, when he sets his sight on something (you) he allows very few things to get in his way and does anything to achieve his goal (to be with you.) This focus, this competitive nature, will keep him present and attentive during your confession. 

^ he’s also extremely brave and daring. He isn’t afraid of challenges in life, so what appears to be a crazy risk to more conservative people is just a normal day for the brave-hearted Minho. Because of this, he won’t be afraid. When you tell him, show him, what you really are—he’ll be more enthralled than fearful or confused.

^ one of the great things about Minho is his loyalty to you. He values trust and honesty making him a fiercely loyal boyfriend, and he expects you to be the same way. That being said, he most likely will be upset that you felt the need to keep such a secret. But he will quickly get over it, dismiss those feelings, once he realizes just how honest you’re being with him in the present. ^ he respects you and treats you with amazing loyalty, generosity and kindness. Him finding out you’re a shapeshifter definitely will not change that.

^ however, it most likely will take him a hot second to be content within your relationship dynamic again, as a part of him perceived your lack of truthfulness as disloyalty. There's a pretty good chance that your actions will cause some big-time resentment to him, at least for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “It’s okay, I mean if you want to, if you need to—” he trails off, his eyes sympathetic. “I’m okay with it.” 

You look at him ready to cry again. Not out of pain. Not out of need. But because his words rub that part of your soul that suffers, that wants to be explored like a virgin land that has remained intact for centuries and craves to be occupied, appreciated and transformed. So you let yourself go.

You groan as your limbs lessen into shorter proportions and your neck stretches. Auburn-coloured fur emerged upon your fevered skin, and the sounds of your bones cracking, shifting in an echo around the cold mountain side. Your snout elongates and your teeth sharpen.

You were panting and, with one last shudder, your body slides from human to fox in a crack. Minho stood there, face drawn up in a twisted expression full of empathetic pain, watching the frost dissipate on your hot tongue, sending tiny rivulets of steam into the air. In this form, the world was sharp and clear, he was sharp and clear. You never realized how many different colors of shadow there were, how the angles of his face cast such an array of shade. It made you savor the dark beauty of the cold evening even more.

Minutes passed by—him staring at you, and you staring at him—both of you almost caught in a trance. When a little blue butterfly fluttered up to you, and landed on your snout. You blinked at it and it fluttered to your ear; it was winter, cold and lifeless on the mountain side, why were there suddenly butterflies? A big yellow butterfly gently floats over and lands on your paw, and as if reading your mind, Minho cocks his head to the right, “Well, that’s different.” 

Soon a whole swarm of them float up and down around you, like a swirl of multicolored petals. It happened once before, in your backyard, when you shifted on a late afternoon.

Your magic must be strong enough, in that moment, to attract them—despite the weather and location. Butterflies were small and light, and very magic sensitive. For some reason you made them feel safe and they gravitated to you like iron shavings to a magnet. Minho let out a quiet giggle as a bigger butterfly landed on your forehead and you shook it off, affronted. Resisting the urge to fight the assault, you took a step back. They ruined your ferocious badass image, but you’d have to be a complete beast to swat butterflies.

Now if a baby deer frolicked out from between the mountains and tried to cuddle up, you would yip. You wouldn’t bite it, but you would most definitely yip, maybe even growl. You had your limits. Minho slowly approached you and reached out, his fingers hesitant. You tilted your head down, letting him touch your ears. His hand trembled slightly as he caressed the fluffy protrusion. You knew they were warmer than he thought they’d be, a living extension of the human inside. He petted your pelt next, charmed by the coarse fur and the feel of your muscles bunching and moving underneath. Finishing off with your tale, he ran his fingers through it, slowly, thoroughly.

Sitting back, he winked down at you. "You probably get this a lot, but…I like your backside.” he laughed at your annoyed yip. “What? It’s so fluffy.” You stretch back into human form, the change much easier in reverse, and look up at him from the ground. “Always gotta be the smartass, don’t you?” you roll your eyes, with a smile.

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To the beautiful anon who requested a supernatural s/o reaction [Stray Kids,] I hope you like it!!! 😅😅 It was superrrr fun to do, so thank you for the request, loveee! 🥰

[crossdressingdeath]

I can't say that there's much about CQL that I care too much for, but 1 thing that I really like is (it's been a while since I watched it so my memory might be foggy) the scene where LWJ is kneeling in the snow holding the cane after his visit to Yiling. It implies that LWJ did say something in WWX and the remnants favor and was punished for it. Either as a warning in a "this is what will happen if you stray again" or they were actively deciding whether to physically punish him as he knelt outside. It would also make some sort of sense on why he didn't seek WWX out anytime after the Yiling visit if he was on a tighter leash. I like using this in my fics when dealing with the time between his visit and the 1 month celebration.

This blank space in LWJs story is both fun and frustrating. Fun cause a fic writer can do so much here writing from his pov. Frustrating cause like bro... What were you doing whilst the love of your life was raising a child on Haunted Corpse Mountain? He specifically sought out WWX 3 times after the SSC and eventually committed treason for him, even if the last one was more impulsive IMO this scenario seems in line with what LWJ would do and start him on the path of questioning things he had taken for granted as true

I guess? But also I’m... not sure I actually like it. See, it kind of gives this sense that LWJ is being punished for associating with WWX. Like, that is pushed so hard in CQL, “Do not associate with evil” and all that. But that’s not the vibe I got from the novel. LWJ was punished for his actions in relation to WWX, yes, and LXC and LQR both blame WWX for “corrupting” LWJ, but I never got the sense that LWJ was being punished for caring about WWX. He was punished for attacking his elders, not because he attacked them for WWX. And that feels important to me? Like, LWJ’s family doesn’t approve of his relationship with WWX but they accept it and don’t punish him for it. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being queer, but a gay man in a society that is explicitly homophobic never getting punished for his love for and later relationship with another man even when he’s punished for the (genuinely and understandably Very Much Not Allowed) things he does because of those feelings feels important. LWJ gets punished, but not because he’s in love with WWX; it’s because his love for WWX leads him to commit treason. WWX is blamed for that, but he’s not actually the reason LWJ is being punished. Meanwhile in CQL... yeah, LWJ is very much being punished for his association with WWX, especially if you’re right and in the scene with the cane he’s being punished for arguing in WWX’s defence. I got the sense that the reason why any attempt LWJ made to argue for WWX and the Wens never comes up is because the Lans kept it quiet because LWJ would be in deep shit if it came out that he’d tried to protect the Yiling Patriarch. No one knows that LWJ was whipped for fighting his own elders to protect WWX (or even that he was whipped at all, as far as I remember) because again, the Lans protected him. There were consequences, but the Lan sect very much did close ranks around him and defend him from what would happen if the sects found out that he was in love with and had tried to help the Yiling Patriarch. Again, maybe this is me being queer, but the idea of a group punishing a member of that group for their actual wrongdoings but also not letting them be punished by an unfair and bigoted world for something they did out of love and that didn’t do any serious or lasting harm (sect leader’s brother or no, if LWJ had done serious and/or permanent damage to the elders he would’ve been in even deeper shit than he was) feels really really important. So CQL changing that and making it clear that LWJ is being punished for his feelings for WWX with the repeated “Do not associate with evil” line and if I remember right removing the fight with the elders from the story... in a version of the story that censors the gay relationship and makes it just Straight With Subtext... well, I do not like that. To make it a little more blatant, I’m pretty sure the “Do not associate with evil” rule only appears in CQL. It may exist in MDZS, but it never comes up.

The blank space in LWJ’s timeline between visits to the Burial Mounds is interesting, and there’s a lot you can do with it, but... making it so that the Lan sect, the sect that defended him from the consequences the other sects would make him face for being in love with WWX and helped raise WWX and LWJ’s kinda-sorta son and sheltered WWX when LWJ brought him back to the Cloud Recesses (even if most of them didn’t know about those two things) and accepted LWJ’s marriage even though they really didn’t like WWX, kept him from helping the Wens and punished him for trying to defend the man he loved isn’t exactly how I’d do it. Especially since there isn’t actually anything suggesting that LWJ was punished for going to Yiling in the book, mostly because... well, why would he be, there’s no rule against it and no mention of him being ordered to stay away from Yiling or WWX, and there’s no word about a rule against trying to defend someone from accusations (except the rule against lying, which the Lans know him well enough to know he wouldn’t do; at worst they’ll assume that he’s letting WWX lie to him and letting himself be convinced that the Evil Yiling Patriarch isn’t actually evil). At this point LWJ has done nothing worthy of punishment. LWJ doesn’t have to be punished for being in love with WWX to start questioning what he was raised to believe, he starts questioning what he was raised to believe because WWX dies! LWJ loves him and believes in his moral compass and he dies anyway! Righteousness alone isn’t enough, because WWX was one of the most righteous people LWJ knew and the sects killed him! So actually, making it so that he reconsiders what he’s learned when it negatively affects him instead of because he tried every rule-abiding method he could think of to help WWX and it did nothing actually weakens his character a bit. By the time he’s committing treason for WWX he’s started to change; he’s given up on following the rules and is willing to do whatever it takes to save the person he loves, and even then it’s not enough. That’s what changes him, not his punishment. It’s the realisation that the sects are not righteous, at least not when acting as a collective with mob mentality in full swing. Every individual Lan we meet is righteous! But only as individuals. As a group they’re just as bad as everyone else.

...This is getting away from me a bit. I guess what I’m trying to say is that while I see your point I think the scene where LWJ is punished with having to hold that cane up is just another aspect of CQL shifting from LWJ being punished for going against his sect’s rules to LWJ getting punished for his feelings for WWX, which wouldn’t be a good look even without the censoring of any aspect that was explicitly gay, so I find it hard to look at it in any sort of positive way. 

Also, it’s not as fun as handstands.

[shyrose57]

Brothers anon, sorry its been like 2 days since I last submitted something! I've been busy and whenever I finally had time to sit down and write this all its like 1 in the morning. I hope its still ok for me to send these.

🌹 anon ima respond to you first, your The Deal au could be the reason why and how Ranboos and Dreams soul got mixed and linked together. But then a problem is how did it pass to Ranbob? In my au, each person has their own soul basically. And while certain attributes like DNA can be passed through bloodlines, souls can't, as their unique to their person. 

What left Ranbob vulnerable to Dream is that he was seen as the star student. The apprentice everyone wanted. He always got perfect grades and was seen as the smartest in the City. This did not go well. As Ranbob was put under a ton of pressure to always stay perfect and get everything right. When his grades started to slip and his chosen mentor started to put even more work on him, his mentality started to suffer. With him losing sleep and starting to not care for himself or do the basic necessities like eating or drinking, all in an effort to be "perfect". Its through this need, and weakened state over all, Dream's presence was able to slip in and convince him to let him help.

Benjamin is 30, Isaac 29, Cletus is 24, and Charles is 27. 

When Ranbob first told Ran about the Dream mask and how he wasnt himself, Ran did not believe him at all. And kept saying that he needs to stop lying and fess up to what he did and pay for it. Others tried to convince him that his brother really wasn't in control of himself, but was met with strong skepticism, scoffs, and disbelief. With Ran not beliving that was the truth at all.

Watson was very shocked but quickly reorganized himself cause he had to calm Jackie, and its only after Jackie fell asleep he was like "Oh fuck. I really am the dad huh?" Jackie was embarrassed at first but after some prodding did say how he truly saw Watson as a dad figure in his life. And everyone had different reactions to Watson suddenly accepting and fitting into the dad role. Jackie was excited and immediately started calling him dad and asking him awkward dad questions "Dad whats puberty?" "Uhhh-" "Dad where do babies come from?" "Ask your dad about that!" "But you are my dad!" Ran seemed indifferent about it but Watson can tell he's revealed to have someone to talk too, and someone to go to if things get to much. Grievous keeps sating he doesn't need a dad but he's the one that goes to Watson the most for things like hugs, comfort, and advice. 

Jackie and Grievous do everything. They rig the battle field so if someone steps in a certain area water will shoot up into their face, Grievous usually taunts and distracts opponents so Jackie can sneak up behind them and just latch onto them and cover their eyes while giggling like a madman as the opponent screams and runs around trying to get him off. Jackie regularly pulls peoples seat out from under them, while Grievous scares them and makes them choke or drop something. But they do know peoples limits. Like for Ran, no water related pranks (there was an incident where Grievous spilled a whole bucket of water on him and Ran got severe burns and had to stay in the hospital ward for a few days), for Watson don't mess with his bow or arrows, he will stab you. And for eachother, Jackie, no pranks that leave him alone for extended periods of time or makes it seems like everyone is gone/left. For Grievous no pranks centered around food or drinks (like putting toothpaste in his sandwich or putting pepper in his beer). 

Ran and Jackie have a 50/50 win if that makes sense. They both win and lose pretty often. They play games like Spoons, Go Fish, Dart Throwing (Watson needs to be present for this one), something similar to Cards Against Humanity, Poker (everyone plays during this one), and Tic Tac Toe. 

Sometimes Jackie loves being the smallest and other times hates it. He hates it when Ran steals something of his and holds it above his head, he sometimes resorts to aggressively climbing Ran to get it but Ran tends to just pluck him off, and people make fun of him in a mean natured way (he's fine with light teasing). But he loves it when he rides Ran's shoulders or can duck under peoples legs and trip em. Because he's also small and fast he's hard to catch and that definitely comes in handy during fights. No ones particularly protective of eachother (excluding Ran who's protective of everyone), because they know none of them like being babied and they can all hold their own, though they will quickly flock to help eachother if they need it. Ran definitely flaunts it whenever their in a agurement. 

There is a area under the fighting arena of the pit where they stay. Theres separate rooms for everyone, training areas, dinning areas, and just chilling areas. Theres even extra rooms meant for often visiting friends (Like Genevieve) and some for storage of weapons which also holds things to sharpen them or get new ones. The Pit itself is in the middle of a gaint city, so there are tons of stores and food areas around. And because of a high salary the King gives them they go out quite often, often eating out and browsing stores when their not training or sleeping. 

If by other combinations you mean like Ran-Jackie, Ran-Grievous, Watson-Jackie, and Watson-Grievous then it highly varies. Watson and Jackie are by far the worst team, their styles just don't match and constantly but heads during battles. Watson and Grievous are probably the best out of the 4 teams because Grievous can be serious and works well with Watson as he's much more willing to change his fighting style to accommodate whats needed. Ran and Jackie are like Jackie and Grievous, but they aren't nearly as insane. Rather Ran provides distractions while fighting to give Jackie time to sneak up behind them. Ran also is the only one able to actually throw Jackie, which they sometimes do during battles. And Ran and Grievous work well together, but not as much as Watson and Grievous, its just a few things of both their styles don't match or could potentially cause problems.

He's clumsy flat out, he isn't used to having full control and needs to get used to certain things like walking or talking again. He is also severely dehydrated and malnutritished because Dream didn't care enough to drink or eat. He's also incredibly skittish and scared easily. He and Cletus's relationship isn't solved fast at all, it takes months and the work of everyone to get the two comfortable around eachother. They start by putting Cletus on watching duty, where he watches over Ranbob to make sure he's eating and drinking and resting while not tiring himself out. Then after a month or 2 Isaac, Benjamin, and Charles start purposely leaving the two in a room alone toghere to get them to talk stuff out. It takes 3 months until their comfortable enough with eachother to willingly talk and hang out. Oh the house building attempts went aboustely awful. They sometimes fell on Ranbob! And when they didn't they just collapsed or got blown away by the wind, but Isaac did ofter help a few times and showed him multiple different ways to make sure the walls stay up and keep the cold out. 

Ran is very unhappy with Ranbobs haunting, he thinks their kind of like Ranbob in which they've all killed people and considers them a threat at first, but when he sees how his haunting likes and interacts with Ranbob's, he losens up a bit, his group trusts them, so he has to trust them a little bit. But he doesn't trust them or like them nearly as much as he trusts and likes his haunting. 

Im guessing you mean who from the two groups get along the easiest. Most of them take a while to get to know eachother, like a few hours. But after that their all really close. Charles and Jackie, Cletus and Grievous, and Benjamin, Isaac, and Watson are the groups that get along really well really fast. 

Im honestly probably am going to go for them adventuring outside the City to try to get the brothers to get along again. Mostly cause I thought of the idea that what if Watson, Jackie, and Grievous all lie to Ran, and while they are actually going on an adventure, they lie to him that his brother and his group isn't coming. Then when its much to late for Ran to back out, Watson just goes "Oh yeah! Your brother and his group are traveling with us. And you can't do anything about it." And Ran just sits there shocked. 

Ran and Ranbob are both subtle protective of their group. With Ranbob never really getting aggressive or going into overbearing. But for Ran, if someone in his group is injured badly enough or if there's a big enough threat he does get overbearing and extremely aggressive towards whatever/whoever the threat is *cough cough Ranbob cough*. Ranbob tends to be very physical, listening more to a certain instincts that tell him to constantly have a view on or hold his family, as if he doesnt see or touch them for a long time he gets very anxious and panicky, thinking his family is dead and that he's all alone again. His group understands this and so tends to not stray to far away from Ranbob. He will also follow his group like a lost puppy at times. Ran while listens more to the instinct that tells him at random times to make sure his family is ok and to bond with them. The bonding leads to him randomly grabbing them and just sitting down with them, most likely playing games. While the random urge to check on them has led to him waking them up during the middle of the night or interrupting his own conversation or others conversations just to ask if their ok. His took a while to understand why he does it, but now if he wakes them up or drags them somewhere, they know to go along with it and comfort him during those times. 

Hybrids are rare! Especially aggressive or netural type mobs like Ran, Ranbob, and Porkius are. Their actually seen as monsters and are chased out or hunted in other city's because people aren't accepting of them. Theres very few city's like Subbin that fully welcome and are even led by hybrids. So there are more hybrids in Subbin, than there is anywhere else. 

Sorry this is so long ':)

Asks are always welcome here, and don’t worry about taking a bit or anything. The questions aren’t going anywhere, there’s plenty of time. 

Here’s that for you,🌹anon.

--------------------

1: Wow, Ranbob’s really going through it, huh? Does he ever start to fall back on that need to be ‘perfect’ while with the others? If so, how do they deal with that? And how is he with others offering to help him? If he even can really recall falling under Dream’s thrall, by accepting such an offer, how does he react to others doing the same, even if their intentions are far different?

2: So we’ve settled all the ages down, nice. You figure out anything for their backstory yet? And how do their ages affect their relationships with one another? Does Benjamin take the lead a lot? Or is he more of a follower that still has a lot of say? Who met who first?

3: So Ran’s obviously going to be awhile before he believes what went down. Still, I can’t imagine he’d have been as willing to go along with his hauntings little roadtrip plan if he wasn’t swayed at least a bit, since I can’t imagine he wouldn’t have put his foot down if he truly though Ranbob had done what he did. Why exactly does he go along with it? Does some small part of him want to give his brother a chance? Is he just confident he can overpower him, and looking for an opportunity to settle the score? Does he see something that makes him hope a bit? What’s going down there, anon?

4: On one hand, very adorable. One the other hand, poor Watson. Does Jackie actually not know that stuff, or does he do that just to mess with his new father figure? It seems like they all take to it pretty well overall though.

5: I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Two people to truly fear. How many people straight up forfeit when faced with this combination? It seems like they’ve had some interesting times, good and bad. How’d those play out? As for those last two, I’m sensing a bit of a backstory. Why does Grievous not like stuff being put into his food? And why’s Jackie not good with being left?

6: So it’s fifty/fifty, huh? Who wins the most at what games? And uh, Watson has to be present for Dart Throwing. What happened there? How’s everyone’s poker faces? Who’s got the best luck in games of chance?

7: A love/hate relationship with height. I feel ya, Jackie. Very funny to imagine though, Jackie just, physically climbing up Ran. How tall even is this guy?? How do they deal with meaner teasing, not just from the gladiators, but from general bullies? Not everybody’s as friendly as some of the Pit fighters, after all. And how do the fishermen react with their fighting skills? Obviously, they must know how to fight somewhat, to have entered the Pit, but the gladiators do this for a living. How much is the difference in skill level? And does the gang ever get to show off just how skilled they are? 

8: Their home sounds very nice, honestly, I wished I could live there, minus the people. What’s everyone’s rooms look like? How have they personalized them? Which brings up another question-what kind of interests and hobbies do they have? What kind of things do they do that aren’t fighting and related to such? And they must be pretty well known, to have such high pay. Any of them have an arena title, or some sort of stage name? How many people can recognize the city’s top gladiators on sight? And how do they get around that, when they don’t want to be seen? How do people feel about them in general?

9: All these team ups sound terrifying, and I wouldn’t want to be facing them. How do they deal with it when they get a bad match up? Do they just stay out of each other’s way? Try to take their opponents out quick? Make it one on one? Ran and Jackie have to be my favorite team up, solely for the fact that you’ve said Ran straight up throws him. Like?? Imagine coming to the King’s Pit, a well known, popular place, hoping to prove yourself, and then getting taking out by a flying midget, just tossed at you by a ridiculously tall endermen hybrid. How would you feel?? 

10: Ranbob is just really going through the ringer here. How many times does he just drop stuff, or trip over his feet? Does he ever get better, or does he still retain a clumsy streak? If so, how does Ran react to that? It’s very good he and Cletus bond! Are they just as close as the others, or is there still a bit of distance? How often does Ranbob forget to eat or drink, or really just take a break? How long does it take to get him to start remembering to do that stuff again? 

Does he ever slip up while with the gladiators? Also, in a room? Do the fisherman expand their house more, or do they just leave them in the house? Does Ranbob ever get his own house up? If so, does he use it at all, or is it more for storage? And how many times did he fall asleep out there, get injured, or not realize it was about to rain? How long did it take before Benjamin or Charles put their foot down and make him stay in for a bit?

Has Ranbob ever even dealt with rain before, or a storm above water? If not, how’d he react to it? 

11: Oh, boy, Ran. Your concerns are understandable, but definitely going to lead to some angst. Is he just on edge the whole time? How many times does he just glare at them, or straight up steal one of his haunting back a few feet away from Ranbob’s? Are the fishermen ever worried he might hurt them?

12: How do both hybrids deal with their groups bonding? I imagine Ranbob’s pretty happy with it, but how about Ran? As you said, he doesn’t seem to be the biggest fan of these guys. 

13: Roadtrip! Gotta love a roadtrip! What kind of places do they head? Any transportation, or is it just walking, enjoying nature? Do they go on an adventure to look for something cool? What’re they getting up to?

14: So Ran and Ranbob both act on their instincts in different ways. How do they feel about seeing how the other acts? What happens if any of the fishermen stray too far, or get separated from Ranbob? Same question to Ran. Ran just...like...picks up members of his haunting? Do people just see him walk around with them dangling in his arms? He must be pretty strong. How often does he do this? How else do their instincts lead to them acting? Cuddle piles, picking up blocks, keeping their groups close together, ect?

15: So Subbin’s pretty much a safe space for hybrids? Interesting. But since the groups are heading out, does this mean they run into some trouble outside of the city? And is there ever trouble within it? 

Other questions: Does Karl play any further part in this, or has he already played his role for good? Does the gang ever end up back at Mizu? Do any of the group have a pet or something similar? With there be any sort of connection to other Tales, even if only slightly, or will they be solely focused on these two? Does Ranbob pick up his studies of Ranboo as best he can once he’s free, or does he leave it all behind entirely?

Thanks for the ask, this AU’s become quite interesting. I can’t wait to see where it goes!

[alovesongshewrote]

Almost A Thousand Years - Spellbound | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot:  You’ve known Hisirdoux Casperan for almost a thousand years.  You’ve hated him for almost a thousand years.  And for almost a thousand years, you’ve been cursed to feel each others pain.  But somewhere in that time, things changed.  [Hisirdoux Casperan x Mostly Gender Neutral but Probably Female Presenting Based on How Historical Men Treat Them!Reader]

Word Count:  5,298

Warnings: guess who’s swearing again, reader is generally sad lol, mentions of torture

A/N:  OOP WIZARDS

Tags: @furblrwurblr​ @rainningdoom​ @fluffydmonkey @blondie0458​ @sitherin-mxschief  @jinxedleo​ @lawlesshedgehog @einahpetsyarcip

Back | Next​

“Beware!  You, you!  Are in grave danger!”

“Archie?”

You were very surprised to see the familiar and very glad that whatever made you want to hurt Douxie didn’t apply to him.  

“(Y/N)?”

“Heyyy, Arch,”

“(Y/N), where have you been?  Douxie’s been looking for you everywhere!”

“That’s what I’m worried about,”

“Wait, (Y/N), you know the talking cat?”  Toby exclaimed, frantically between you and the cat-dragon.

“He’s a familiar, actually,”

“Familiar?”

“Nuh-uh, not familiar, I would remember if I’d met a talking cat,”

“No, familiar, wizard-assistant,”

“Assistant!  That’s very offensive, I am a wizard associate, thank you very much,”

“Yeah, okay, semantics, what do you need Arch?”

“I need you to come with me, or the world as you know it will come to end,”

You sighed, rubbing your temples.  Had you and your gang of stray children, trolls, and Akiridions not saved the planet enough for one year?  What sin did you commit to cause these unending apocalypses to rain down on you?

“Are you threatening me pussy cat?”

You put a hand on Steve’s shoulder, a little worried that he would actually try to fight Archie.  It wouldn’t be too out of character for him.

“No, I’m warning you,” Archie responded, calm as ever, “Put simply, the world as you know it is about to end,”

“What else is new,”  you muttered, following the cat-dragon down the street, “C’mon guys, let’s see what wants to destroy the universe now,”

Toby, Steve and Arrrgh kept up the conversation while you followed Archie in silence, silently praying that wherever the familiar led you, his wizard would be far away.

Your prayers went unanswered.  

“Sorry, this is a lot to take in.  Pets can talk?  The world is ending?  Again?”

“Not the best timing, I know, but we need your help all the same,”

“Douxie?”

“Casperan,”

“(Y/N)?”

“Wait, (Y/N), you know this guy too!?”  

You froze in place at Steve’s question, looking briefly into Douxie’s eyes.  If it hadn’t been physically painful to avoid killing him whenever you were in the same place, it still would’ve been emotionally painful.  How could you look into the eyes of the one person you could always count on, the man you loved, when he had left you for dead?  How could you look into his eyes knowing you had been sent to kill him?  Centuries had passed, and yet you still felt like the traitor you’d always been.

“We’re acquaintances,” you said, stepping back in a desperate attempt to quell the bloodlust rising within you, trying to escape the rage that wasn’t yours.

You avoided looking into Douxie’s eyes again, but the hurt on his face was clear to you, even if you weren’t staring directly at it.

“Wait, wait, hold up, I thought you worked at the cafe or were a model or something-?”

Douxie laughed a little, trying to shake off your icy demeanour, “There’s a lot about me you don’t know,”  

The cuff on his wrist glowed blue, the light forming an orb in the palm of his hand.  The teenagers in front of you were wide-eyed, amazed by Douxie’s use of magic.  You just shook your head and kept trying not to kill your oldest friend.

He pressed the orb to the door of the bookshop, unlocking it, “Come on then, the answers to all your questions are within,”

“Sure they are,” you muttered, hanging back as the boys filed into the store.  You took a second to look at Arcadia’s Arcane bookstore, one of the few places in town you’d never actually been to.  When Douxie started working there, you decided that avoiding the shop was a key part of not committing murder.  The same went for the cafe, and anywhere else the wizard went.

“(Y/N)?” Speak of the devil, it was the wizard.  The one whose life you were trying to save, “C’mon, I need you for this, too,”

“I-” you looked down, desperately searching for an excuse.  End of the world or not, saving Douxie from yourself was more important.  Maybe you should’ve just left Arcadia.

“(Y/N),” his voice was soft, just as you remembered it.  The way he looked at you made you want to cry.  There was so much love in his eyes.  Left for dead or not, you couldn’t deny he did care about you, “Please,”

He reached out, his hand gently clasping around your wrist.  No matter how much you longed for his touch, you tore your hand from his grip as if you’d been burned.

“Fine, Douxie, I’ll join you on whatever hell-quest this is, but you have to promise that you’ll stay away from me,”

He was shocked, clearly taken aback by what you said, “That’s… that’s fine, but why?”

It killed you to hear how heartbroken he sounded, “I’ll explain later, let’s just go,”

The hurt in your voice hit him hard.  The way you’d jerked your hand back left him feeling as if he’d done something wrong.  Whatever it was, Douxie promised himself that he would figure it out and apologize to you and make it better.  He didn’t need you to forgive him, he just wanted you to smile again.  He wanted to see the light in your eyes, the one that he’d been falling in love with since at least the fifteen-hundreds, even if he wasn’t the cause of it.  Ever since you’d disappeared, you’d been distant.  The few chances he got to look at you, you’d seemed haunted.  He wanted to help you so bad, but he couldn’t do anything unless you let him.

Silently, the two of you walked through the door.

Inside the shop, various objects floated about, surrounded by a green hue.  You recognized that magic.  It had cursed you years ago and had cursed Jim more recently.  Merlin.

“Put that down! Thank the ether you’re here!  We haven’t a moment to waste,”

“Woah, crusty creepy dude,”  

You laughed at that, trying to keep yourself quiet and failing.  You wouldn’t say it to Merlin’s face, but those were your thoughts almost exactly.  The old wizard ignored both you and Steve.

“I had hoped for more Hisirdoux,”

“Jeez, thanks Merlin,”

“Silence, traitor,”

You rolled your eyes into the back of your head.  Would no one let you live that down?  

As if Douxie sensed your discomfort, the young wizard took the attention off of you, “Look, I tried, I couldn’t find the changelings or the aliens.  I’m pretty sure most left the planet,”

“Merlin!  It’s me!  Toby Domzalski!  Y’know, War Hammer, Guardian of Arcadia, Geology Club president,”

“No one could forget you chatty,”

“Oh my god, Merlin, what have I told you about talking to kids!”  

Since the old man had awoken from his nine-century long sleep, you’d tried to convince him to do two things.  Call Douxie, because the young wizard deserved to know what was going on and you couldn’t tell him yourself, and be nicer to the children for god’s sake.

“And Steve Palchuk!  Creepslayer!”

“I have no idea who you are, but we’re desperate.  Thankfully, we have the brute,”

“Because, y’know, the traitor is of no use to you,” you muttered, scooping up Archie, trying to interrupt a dispute between him and Arrrgh.  Fortunately, the familiar did not struggle to get away from you despite your cold attitude towards his wizard.  That, at the very least, brought you some relief.

“Wait, where’s Jimbo and Claire?  I thought they were with you?”

“Yeah, good question Merlin, where’ are the kids you’re in charge of?”

“Answers forthcoming.  Make preparations, we’ve a journey ahead.  And don’t-”

“But Master!”

“‘But Master,’ me,”

“Very typical,” you sighed, releasing Archie from your hold.  Your attention was brought back to Douxie.

“But… are you sure you want to count on these children?  They’re clearly not ready for this,”

He was partially right.  Your kids had seen battle before and could probably take whatever was thrown at them, but that didn’t mean they should have to.  They deserved a break.

Steve scoffed, “Excuse me, college dude, these children fought off a fifty-foot extraterrestrial,”  he made a good point despite it being an obvious brag, and it would have held some weight, had he not promptly gotten into a scuffle with an enchanted set of armour.  

You watched, cringing a bit, before turning your attention to Merlin and Douxie’s conversation.

“I’ve spent years preparing, centuries-!”  All true, once again.  You could say what you wanted about Hisirdoux Casperan, but you couldn’t deny he was more than capable when it came to magic.   You'd seen his magic improve over the centuries, and you knew for a fact that he could kick some ass.

“Silence!”  Merlin cut Douxie off, reminding you ever so slightly of your Camelot days.  You wanted, desperately, to comfort your friend, but being in the same room was hard enough.  If you touched him, he would die.

“I mean, silence, all of you,”  Merlin corrected himself, “Can you not hear that?”

You could hear nothing, but you stopped to listen anyway.  Beside you, Toby drew his hammer, readying for a battle.

You still couldn’t hear it.

“Something wicked this way comes,”

You squeezed your eyes shut, tired and stressed, but willing to fight.  You drew your sword, and in front of you, blue magic circled around Douxie’s wrist.  Your body was telling you to murder him right now, show him no mercy, go for the throat, but you held back.  Now was not the time to kill your friends.

Merlin and Douxie walked past you to look out the window.  You joined them, squinting to try and make out what lurked in the murky darkness, only to jump back when a shadow mephit flung itself at the glass in front of you.  It bounced off a shield of blue, tumbling off into the street to join its brothers and sisters, all of which now came into view.

“Shadow mephits?  Traitor, did you lead them here?”

“You do know I have a name, right?”

“No, no, it wasn’t (Y/N), it was me, or at least I think it was,”

“Yes, it was us,” Archie said, jumping onto a shelf next to Douxie.  You would’ve laughed at the familiar’s candor, had the shadow mephits been less interested in breaking in.

Merlin just shook his head, “He found us.  The barrier won’t hold for long.  We must make egress!  Tobias, take my things!”

With a wave of Merlin’s hand, a trunk, surrounded by the green glow of his magic, slammed into Toby and flew him up to the roof, screaming.

“For god’s sake, Merlin,”  he couldn’t hear you through the attack, but it was the sentiment that counted.

But then again nothing really mattered.  A mephit broke through the barrier, only to face a bolt of magic from Merlin, “All of you to the roof!”

You grabbed Steve and Arrrgh and started up the stairs.  Douxie, of course, didn’t listen to his master.  You couldn’t hear the argument that took place between them as you guided your companions up the stairs, but you could see what was going on below you.  You had to admit, Douxie blasting shadow mephits while standing his ground in an argument was pretty damn impressive (impressive here meaning hot.)

Merlin moved past you, blasting some mephits as he went.  You took initiative and sent some magic their way as well, knocking a few away from Archie.  Douxie grabbed his familiar with magic, saving the cat-dragon from a very mephit-y death.

“C’mon Douxie,” you said, waiting for him by the door, crying out slightly when the nerd rammed his hand into a candle, feeling the burn on your own hand.  Your wizard took a brief moment to look at you, then the candle before lighting the bookstore on fire.

To be fair, it was a magic fire, and it wasn’t damaging anything but the mephits.  You were actually quite impressed by that, too, and you were very charmed by his laughter once he saw that his plan worked.  Merlin, however, didn’t care.

“Fire!?”

“Yeah, magic fire!”

“In a bookstore!!?”

“Butmephitsarevulnerabletofire-”

“Move it!”

You grabbed Archie, jumping out the door to see your friends fighting off even more shadow mephits.

“Got any more magic fire, Doux?”

“‘M afraid I’m fresh out,”

“Ah.  Fuck,”

You swung your sword into the nearest mephit, “I guess we’ll have to do this the old fashioned way then,”  You buried the blade in another one of the creatures before placing Archie on the ground and blocking a blow from yet another mephit.

“Stand back!”  Merlin exclaimed, throwing a crystal ball that released a small ship from inside of it.  The blast from the ship blew back a few of the mephits long enough for everyone to have a two-second gawk at the little boat.

“Woah, ship just got real!”

“Yeah-huh,”

“Everyone on!”  Arrrgh growled, tossing all of you on board.  

You frantically scuttled away from Douxie, double-checking your blade to be sure it didn’t have his blood on it.  It didn’t.  He was safe.  From you, at least.

You stuck to one side of the ship, watching your friends fight off more shadow mephits on the other side.  You sincerely hoped they’d never have to fight you like that.

You heard someone say, “Boy,” from below, a voice that was eerily familiar to one you had heard before, not too long ago.  You were about to rise and check to see if your suspicions were correct, but before you had the chance, green shards flew through the air, just like-

Just like the one that had gone through you.

You didn’t have time to ponder things as Merlin’s ship flew off through the night sky.  You just sat back and shut your eyes, trying to keep the internal demons at bay.

You did your best to erase the memory from your mind.  To forget a green knight who, on the orders of his masters, sent a shard of black magic right through you.  You should have died, but instead, the projectile broke through your skin and disintegrated, taking over your body, turning you into an assassin against your will.  Your captors had called it a trial, an experiment.  Sneaking a look at one of the shards beside you, you realized that you had been a test run.  That shard hadn’t disintegrated.

You kept your eyes shut.

A few minutes later, the memories faded.  You could relax, finally.  The sound of the boys screaming with joy rang through the air.  Flying was fun, you had to admit that.  You opened your eyes, first looking at Steve, Arrrgh, and Toby, then at Douxie.  

He was beautiful, staring off into the distance as if there was nothing in the world to worry about.  As if the assassin sent to kill him wasn’t at his side right now.  You bit the inside of your cheek to keep any emotion from showing.  You couldn’t let them know anything was wrong, if you did they’d never trust you again.  But what you felt was overwhelming.

You were stressed, not knowing what was to come in the future, nor what your captors would do to you if they knew your target was still alive.  You were hurt, because over the ten years that you’d been tortured your best friend hadn’t searched for you, even though he had before.  Was he tired of you?  Did he just not care anymore?  You were scared of the answer.  And worst of all, you were in love.  But you refused to admit it.

“What the heck is that?”

You turned your attention to the horizon before you, “That’s not-”

“Welcome, young squires, to Camelot,”

“Camelot!?  Like, as in ancient-old-people-times Camelot!?”

“Thanks, Toby,” you snarked under your breath.  You heard a snicker from beside you.  You made him laugh.  That made you feel a lot better.  You even smiled when you thought Douxie wasn’t looking.  Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.

He was looking.  His fondness for seeing his old home dulled in comparison to his fondness for you.  The small smile on your lips was enough to power his world for decades, no, centuries.  You still seemed troubled, but if you smiled now, there was still hope that he could help you make things better.  

“Excuse me, I have a question.  How is this castle flying right now?”  

“The Heart of Avalon.  Its magic keeps Camelot aloft, powered by time itself,”

You took a moment to lean over the side of the ship, examining the large green stone.  It was nice.  Reminded you of Merlin’s magic.  The ship took a sudden turn upwards, and Merlin called out a greeting to someone.

“Holy crap, Gallahad’s still alive?”

“Seems that way,”

“I guess committing treason means you miss the weekly newsletter,”

You missed Douxie’s frown at your angsty humour.  He wanted you to know that no matter what Merlin called you, you were no longer a traitor.  You wished that could be true.

The ship took another sharp turn, heading for the entrance.

“I say, coming in a little hot, don’t you think?”

“Rubbish!”

“I knew Merlin would be the death of me, but not like this,”

You held on tight as the ship landed, but it wasn’t enough.  The impact launched you into Douxie, who managed to catch you, only for you to jump out of his arms, even though you would’ve liked to stay there.

“Sorry,” you whispered, once again straining to avoid murder.

If Merlin didn’t try to execute you for past treasons, he would definitely kill you for murdering his favourite apprentice.  Of course, that was only one of several reasons to avoid committing homicide, but it was the most prevalent right now as Merlin caught your eye.

Toby, Steve and Douxie exchanged banter, while you spoke in lower tones with your once master.

“So, you still haven’t gotten over your petty rivalry, have you?

“It’s not that, Master, I-”

“So we’re back to Master, are we?”

“It’s only fitting seeing that we’re back in Camelot,”

“If that’s the case, I should have you killed for treason,”

You weren’t sure if that was a joke or not, but your response was one hundred percent serious, “Please do,”

Merlin turned to you, fairly concerned.  He was not expecting that retort, to say the least.  But you weren’t looking at him.  You were looking back at his apprentice, something he couldn’t name trapped in your gaze.

“Uh, cool floating castle ship,” Toby interrupted both your and Merlin’s train of thought, “But what’s the grave danger you keep talking about?”

Merlin didn’t answer, instead, he looked ahead of him, “Ah, there you are,”

“Claire!”

“Toby!”

“Aarghaumont!”

“Blinky!”

You grinned as your friends hugged each other.  It was good for them to be back together again.  

“Whoa, hey, Steve’s here, too!  How ‘bout- how ‘bout some love for Steve?”

As much as you admired Steve’s growth as a person, you had to cringe, just a little.

“Oh, hi Steve,”  Claire said, unimpressed before her eyes turned to you, “(Y/N)!  Hi!”

“Hey, Claire, Blink,” you gave a small wave, too emotionally and physically exhausted for anything else at this point.

“What happened to you guys?”  Toby asked, frantically taking in Claire and Blinky’s worse for wear appearances, “Wait, where’s Jim?”

The look on Claire’s face told you everything you needed to know.

One room over, Jim was encased in a green crystal… thing.  

You knelt to the ground next to Jim’s crystal and immediately began your assessment.  The trollhunter’s face, arms and legs seemed to be fine, but a shard of something had embedded itself in his chest.  Unfortunately, you recognized it.  It was the same thing your captors used to force you into becoming an assassin.  It looked like the shard had gotten about halfway in before stopping, completely intact, above Jim’s heart.  You didn’t need to be a doctor to know that that wasn’t a good thing, but you were a doctor, and you needed to get a closer look before you could do anything.  Before you could get any closer, your attention went back to the conversation taking place between everyone else in the room.

“What happened to him?”

“We were ambushed.  Some ancient, dark warrior.  An unstoppable knight clad in green,”  

Your blood ran cold.  You were right.  Same knight, same shard, and eventually, same outcome.  You didn’t want to think about that.  You refused to consider the implications.

“Master, is that the same knight we saw at the bookstore?”

“One and the same,”

You swore under your breath.  This could not be happening.  You never wanted to deal with your captors ever again, but here they were, knocking at your door and trying to kill more of your friends.

“That onyx shard is working its way towards his heart.  I placed the boy in stasis, stalling its progress… for now,”

“But that’s not a permanent solution, is it?”  you muttered, deciding to distract yourself from thoughts of the green knight by trying to find a way to fix this problem.  

If you removed the shard, it might leave a gaping hole in Jim’s chest, one that would need more than a few stitches, that is if you could pull the shard out at all.  You weren’t super sure whether it would disintegrate or not, and if it did, that might kick start whatever possession your captors had planned for Jim.  

If you couldn’t remove the shard, stasis was the best idea until you figured out how to remove it.  Maybe it could be burnt away?  But that might kick start disintegration.  No, that would just burn the boy, and impalement was bad enough.  You racked your brain, struggling to find a solution.  Around you, your friends were talking, but you barely listened.  You needed to focus, otherwise, you’d explode from nerves alone.

“If I had my shadow staff, I could have saved him,”

“Who is this Green Knight?  How do I get my hands on him?”

“I do not know.  The Green Knight said but one name, which chilled me to the bone.  Morgana,”

The name of the Eldritch queen caught your attention.  You stood up, eyes now focused on Merlin.

“Oh, I hate that lady.  But wait, I thought we kicked her bewitched butt to the shadow realm?”

“Which he appeared not to know, but he bore the emblem of Camelot,”

Great.  Just great, the last thing you needed was Camelot zombies, and yet, here they were!  Merlin took a few steps away from Jim before turning and heading out the door, and into the night.  The gang followed though you stayed behind, taking one last look at Jim.  You’d failed him.  You were supposed to be a doctor, and a protector, but here he was, nearly dead because you left him alone with Merlin for more than two seconds.

“Come with me, quickly.  I fear the answer lies in the past,”  

You turned away from Jim, following behind the others, avoiding Douxie and staying silent.

“A dark menace is coming, one even I cannot face alone,”  The old wizard led you into another tower, stopping at a table in the center and opening up a time map, “You are all now soldiers in a war started centuries ago for the world of magic,”

You scoffed slightly, “Yeah, what else is new,”

Merlin ignored you, “Once, the realms of Magic and Man clashed in endless bloodshed.  King Arthur sought to wipe out magic that ravaged the lands in his war against Gunmar,”  blue light from the time map displayed images of Arthur and Gunmar as the old wizard spoke.  

You turned your eyes to the floor at the sight of your old master.  It hadn’t been long since you’d seen the old trolls face, but it still brought a sense of anxiety with it.  The Gumm-Gumm king had trained you to be afraid, to be a fighter.  He’d pretty much ruined your childhood, but there was no time for angst now.  Merlin was still expositing.

“I brought what few spellcasters I could under my protection, to spare them from the sword,”

“Including myself, (Y/N)-”

“That’s technically false,”

“Oh, and Morgana le Fay,”

“She was the finest student I ever taught… until she tried to kill me.  Thankfully, in my all-seeing wisdom,”  you rolled your eyes again.  Merlin kept talking, “I created a secret weapon- the Trollhunter amulet.  The war came to a standstill and I imprisoned Morgana at the Battle of Killahead Bridge,”

“Only for her to break out nine hundred years later,”

“Shush,” Merlin finally acknowledged you, “This Green Knight that assailed us was clearly born of dark magicks, but I have no memory of him nor what connection he could have to Morgana,”

You bit your lip, remembering the shard used to curse you.  You had a very vague idea of the connection between the Eldritch queen and the Green Knight.

“We know not what he is, nor why he pursues us, though his presence is a dire omen of things to come,”

You also had a decent idea of why the knight was pursuing you.  Or, at least pursuing Merlin.  If this green knight was, in fact, the same that served your captors, it was likely he was doing their bidding just as you were.  With the knight, they’d targeted Merlin directly, or, at the very least his trollhunter.  In your case, you’d been sent to kill one of the very few people Merlin actually cared about.  Either way, they were coming for Merlin, or for what he had.  

Back in your prison, you had two main captors.  You’d only briefly met the third, the one they’d lost.  From what you’d gathered, the other two assumed she ran to Merlin, and judging by size alone, it was very possible that she was hiding somewhere here, in Camelot.  

It was either that, or they were coming after you specifically for not murdering Douxie fast enough, but that didn’t seem likely.

The sound of a bell ringing shook you from your thoughts.

Something hit the side of the castle, knocking everyone to the floor.

“What’s happening?”

“Have you never been under attack before?  To the battlements!”

You followed Merlin and the squad outside to see your worst nightmare come to life.

Your once-prison, the ship of your captors, the Arcane Order, rose into view.

“Oh.  Fuck,”  your eyes widened as you took in the skull-shaped ship for the second time this century.

“Everyone, get to safety!  Now!”

Merlin didn’t have to ask you twice.  You grabbed whoever was nearest to you and scrambled to find the safest place possible.  It was kind of difficult while Camelot shook from each attack, but you managed.

You shoved Toby, Claire and Steve into a small sheltered balcony of sorts, raising your hands and casting a shield around the four of you.  Debris bounced off of the magic you’d projected.  Merlin was yelling something, but you kept your focus, straining to stay in place as ice hit the ship, forming bridges between the Arcane Order and Camelot.  It didn’t work very well.  The shield came down around you, but there was no time to set it up again.  

The kids ran towards the edge of the ship, their weapons drawn.  You followed behind.

“All of a sudden, flying castles aren’t so cool!”

“You said it, Steve,”

The ship shook some more as fire and ice attacked it.  You watched, wide-eyed, as the demi-gods who had tortured you for ten years sent blast after blast at what had once been your home.

“We‘ve got to protect Jim!  I’m not losing him again!”  Claire exclaimed as shadow mephits began to cross the icy bridges connecting them to Camelot.

You took two mephits out with your sword while Toby yelled something about hammers.  The four of you continued your fight, taking out as many goblins and shadow mephits as possible.  It didn’t take too long for you to clear a path, making your way to Jim and the trolls.

Another blast of ice carved its way into the tower in front of you, forcing you to remember that same ice carving its way into your skin.

“Surrender, Merlin,”  

That voice made you want to vomit.  You took a few steps back, not even bothering to prepare a spell or level your sword at an opponent.  You were somewhere else now.

Fortunately, you didn’t have to do much in terms of freeing the ship.  One of the towers crashed into the bridges of ice, releasing Camelot from the Arcane Order’s hold and snapping you out of your traumatized haze.

You followed Claire and Steve up to the main tower, where Douxie was trying his best to steer the ship.  

“Please don’t blow us up, please don’t blow us up,”

“We don’t have enough power for the jump!”  Archie sounded as panicked as you felt.

“Trust in Merlin!”  Scratch that, Douxie’s panicked shouting was much more like you.

“No thanks!”

Green fire surrounded whatever the hell device was controlling the ship, giving it enough power to tear a hole in time and space.

“We have to steer Camelot through the time rift!”

You would have helped if you hadn’t been slammed into one of the railings, left to cling on for your life.  That was probably fine, Douxie, Claire and Steve were managing.

“IT ENDS,”  it was the green knight’s voice again, “NOW,”

Panic surged through your veins as something hit the ship, tipping it, and sending you all flying.  You held onto whatever you could, trying not to freefall through the air.  Jim’s crystal nearly fell on you, instead, it fell down and into the time rift, which was probably worse than him just crushing you, but you couldn’t really think of that right now.

“What do we do man?”

“Trust me!”  Douxie exclaimed, grabbing Claire and pulling her with him into the rift.  You watched them fall, still panicking.

“Whatever, I have nothing better to do,” you joked, trying to calm your nerves.  It wasn’t working.  You let go and fell through the night and into a different time.

The sky changed.

It was daytime now.

You were still falling though.

“This is gonna hurt!”

“It- Does- Hurt!”  Steve voiced your thoughts perfectly.

The wind was knocked from your lungs as you hit blue forcefield after blue forcefield and then the ground.  The landing was pretty rough, but the good news was you were all alive.

The four of you remained lying on the ground for a moment before Steve began to freak out, something about being blind, before he was hit in the head with Jim’s crystal tomb.

The boy groaned, “What just happened?”

“Well, I just conjured an anti-gravity spell to slow our fall and keep us from dying.  You’re welcome,”

“Thanks for not letting us die a horrible, horrible death, Casperan,” you said, sitting up.  You did a quick check to make sure nothing was broken before you realized.  You didn’t have an innate drive to murder the wizard anymore.  You laughed a little, realizing the curse was broken, for now at least.

“(Y/N)? You okay, love?”

“I am much better than okay,”  You turned to see Douxie’s very concerned face, elated to find that you didn’t want to kill him anymore, “I’ll explain later,”

“Douxie,” Claire asked, calling your attention to her, “Where is the flying castle?”

“Oh, fuzzbuckets!  Well, it would appear we’ve had ourselves a temporal accident,”

“Which means?”

Douxie didn’t have time to answer before a sword was pointed at his throat.  It wasn’t yours though, so that was nice.

You looked around to see your little group surrounded by guards, all of them with weapons pointing at you.

“It means, that we are lost in time,”

“Motherfu-”

[specterchasing-a]

People Like Us || Morgan & Eddie

TIMING: Current

LOCATION: Morgan’s House

PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems​ & @specterchasing​

SUMMARY: Eddie needs help accepting the truth about who he is, and who better to lend a hand than Morgan Beck? 

CONTAINS: Internalized homophobia tw, domestic abuse mention tw (section is tagged)

Eddie learned Morgan didn’t pull punches the day he came across her picnicking among the headstones of Jericho Hill. She took one look at him and effortlessly seemed to understand what made him tick. At the time, he didn’t realize she went easy on him. He knew better now. After their last conversation, he doubted she wanted anything to do with him, or that she ever would again. Unfortunately, that didn’t change how badly he needed her help.

He pulled his car into her driveway and put it in park. Unsteady breaths staggered the rise and fall of his chest. “In through the nose, out through the mouth,” Eddie quietly instructed himself as he exited the car, flinching when the car door slammed shut upon its release from his hand. Moonlight assisted the mansion’s porchlight in illuminating the path to her front door. If it weren’t for the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, he might have appreciated the sleepy suburban ambience.

Eddie reached the door and raised his fist, hesitating at the last second. If he turned around now, he could probably still make it to his car before Morgan noticed it in her driveway. He swallowed hard, past the lump in his throat, and felt his eyes begin to sting with budding tears. Leaving now would only prove her right for calling him a coward. “Shit,” he sighed before finally knocking.

Morgan couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard someone knock on the front door. When Bex and Mina stayed, they had keys. Urk rang the bell or called out, blubbering, through the window. An unexpected knock on the door was the wrong kind of normal. Even the cats complained with tense ears and whiny meows. Make it go away.

“Yeah, I’m working on it,” Morgan mumbled. She hesitated before approaching the door, bracing herself for the worst, then decided that maybe there was no such thing in White Crest and flung it open only to find… “Eddie?” She was too surprised to keep the incredulity out of her voice. As far as she was aware they had nothing left to say to each other. She frowned, struggling to process. “Uh….can I help you?”

The sight of Morgan instantly inflamed Eddie’s precarious emotional state. He blinked as the budding tears started to blossom. More people had seen him cry in the past few weeks than he cared to admit, and Eddie wasn’t eager to add another name to the list. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like he had a say in the matter once a stray tear fled down his cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “God, Morgan, I’m so sorry.” Eddie bled as much sincerity into his apology as he could muster, she needed to believe him. “I can’t do this.” He shrugged helplessly before his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “You were right about everything, and I want to set things right. With Bex, with you, with myself.” His teeth dug into the inside of his cheek momentarily. “But I’m scared and I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t have anyone else I can go to about this. Only one other person knows about me, and he doesn’t know Bex the way you do.” 

Whatever hostility Morgan had been holding onto against Eddie melted as soon as she saw his tears. And then his arms over his chest, the way he seemed desperate to hold himself together when the truth was he couldn’t, his guilt, his hurt. Morgan had seen it dozens of times, almost half of them in the mirror when she was even younger than Eddie. She didn’t know what else to do but come out and wrap him up as best she could. 

“Okay,” she said. “Okay. You’re gonna be okay, Eddie. It doesn’t feel like it, but you will be.” She pulled away, searching his face to find his comfort levels, and gave him a little tug. “Come inside, tell me what you’re worried about, and we’ll come up with something, okay?” She gave him the softest smile she could; nothing was so bad if you could smile a little about it.

Morgan didn’t yell at him, or slam the door in his face like Eddie thought she would. Instead, she hugged him, and that wasn’t something he prepared himself for on the drive over. His throat tightened as he returned the gesture, arms wrapping around her as he grounded himself within the moment. Eddie didn’t receive much physical affection. Usually, he was the one dishing it out, but he appreciated the role reversal more than he could say.

She spoke to him in words of affirmation so kind he almost believed them. As far as he could tell, ‘okay’ was officially out of his reach and would be for the foreseeable future, but he decided not to argue. He caught her eye when she pulled back and he made an effort to smile, but the best he could do was purse his lips together. Eddie followed her inside, nodding along with everything she said. 

“Thank you,” he said softly now that they were surrounded by the mansion’s walls. “Sorry, I didn’t get this far in my head,” Eddie admitted after a beat of silence. He wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand and nervously ran his fingers through his hair. “What I’m worried about is essentially everything.” He didn’t intend to sound so dramatic, but his entire world was changing around him, and he didn’t know how to talk about that nonchalantly. “But, uhm, we can start with Bex. I have to tell her. I don’t want to, but I have to, and she’s going to hate me. I don’t have a lot of friends, Morgan, so losing her is gonna suck for me.” 

Morgan led Eddie into the kitchen and started on some tea. The last thing he needed was to dehydrate while he was this tense. She smirked to herself, remembering that everything went wrong between them around a teapot last time. Maybe this could be a good do-over for both of them. While the water boiled, she put her hands on his shoulders and guided him to sit. 

“Eddie,” she began, warm and gentle. “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself. Why, exactly, do you think Bex is going to hate you? For that matter, why do you think anyone who really cares about you will?” She brushed back his messy hair, sighing. After all these years, not much had changed, not for the kids she knew, at least. “Eddie Carridine, there is nothing wrong with being the person you are. There is nothing bad or ugly or inferior about the person you were made to be. Who told you that there was?”

Eddie didn’t take in much of his surroundings. Morgan’s interior design choices passed by in a blur on their way to the kitchen. He watched as she prepared a pot of tea, the parallel between tonight and their last meeting not being lost on him either. He hoped to actually stick around long enough to try it this time. 

Morgan encouraged him to sit down, and Eddie obliged. His eyes, a little wider than usual, locked onto hers as she kept him from continuing on his downward spiral. The tone she used, the way she pushed his hair out of his face, it all felt so foreign. After Eddie learned to walk and talk, his parents never soothed him with gentle voices or gestures of affection. They preferred to let Eddie work through emotional distress on his own. They told him it would build character, but all it ever did was make him feel desperately alone. Having Morgan, someone he barely knew, do what they refused to without prompting left him feeling conflicted, but mostly grateful.

“Bex is going to hate me because I don’t think we can work through these kinds of differences,” Eddie announced, wishing he could keep the tone light. If he could, maybe the weight pressing down on his chest would start to let up. “Our relationships will be over and, I dunno, I feel like that might upset her.” Bex genuinely seemed to like him, which remained an overwhelming source of guilt.

As far as who told Eddie that being himself was a punishable offense, the list went on and on. “Do you have all day?” he asked dryly. Deflecting didn’t make him feel any better. A sigh slipped past his lips and he decided to take the question more seriously. “My parents, for starters,” he said as the lump in his throat returned. “They, uh, had expectations for me, still do, actually. And I really think this would be the final straw for them. Right now, the only reason I’m still on their insurance and why they pay my car-note is that they’re holding onto hope that I might still grow up to be a normal boy, with a normal wife, and normal kids.”

“Oh, Eddie…” Morgan sighed, brushing through the rest of his hair. “Normal isn’t a real thing. It’s an aspirational lie. No one’s normal. And, sure, you spend your time on YouTube and you can see dead people, but isn’t that also kind of what makes you amazing? Why shouldn’t this also be something that makes you amazing?” She focused on his eyes, willing him to unclench just a little more, to make this easier for both of them. “Also, not every breakup has to end in anyone hating anyone. There’s even a proud tradition in certain circles of staying friends with exes.” Also, Bex had the same secret as Eddie. But that wasn’t hers to tell. 

The kettle raddled on the stove and Morgan went to attend to it. She reached for a jar of something ready-made and dipped a heaping spoonful into the infuser and started preparing their cups. “I want to get to the heart of this with you, I do, but I need to know what level of ‘last straw’ you’re talking about here. I mean, are your parents going to hurt you, if you tell them this? Do you need to secure some resources for yourself or have someone pseudo-indestructible around? Also--” She brought the tea to the kitchen island and slid it toward Eddie before climbing onto the stool next to him. “You still haven’t told me yet. What we’re talking around, what you’re trying to accept about yourself. It might help, if you can name it.”

Eddie wanted so badly to see normality the way Morgan did, but the idea of it seemed incontestably desirable to him in this case. All his life, his parents barely acknowledged his existence and he knew he should resent them for it, but he still craved their approval in spite of everything; in spite of himself. Just once, he wanted them to recognize him as something to be proud of instead of branding him a failure with every step he took. 

“Amazing?” Eddie echoed quietly. The sudden commendation shooed away all thoughts of his parents. He looked up at Morgan like he expected her to take it back. “Most people just think the ghost thing is kind of weird.” His shoulders raised in a soft shrug. Ghosts gave his life meaning, but his dedication to them also made it more difficult to navigate. “Or fake.” Amazing. The word hung stubbornly in his mind as if daring him to believe what Morgan said could be true. “How can something that keeps me up at night be amazing?” he asked genuinely. Before he could take a leap of faith and try to celebrate instead of hide, he needed more answers.

“I’d like that,” Eddie said about staying friends with Bex. “I really do care about her, that part wasn’t a lie.” The calming way Morgan familiarized herself with his hair and seemed to know exactly what to say slowly encouraged him to take refuge in the safety of his time with her. He sniffled, but the tears in his eyes were drying. Breathing came a little easier now, which felt like a miraculous turn of events.

[DOMESTIC ABUSE MENTION]

“Not physically, I don’t think,” he answered honestly, his eyes following her as she tended to the tea. “Dad’s only ever lost his temper with me like that once.” Not a fond memory, but enough time spanned between now and then that Eddie could discuss it without unravelling. “I think they’d disown me though,” he added softly. He caught the cup of tea she slid his way and focused on the steam rising to meet his face instead of his parents. “I make good enough money, but I won’t turn down the other offer, if only for moral support.” He turned his head to face her as she sat down and made another attempt at a smile, this time with marginally more success.

[END OF DOMESTIC ABUSE MENTION]

The hint of a smile diminished when she probed for a label. Saying it out loud to Alfie hadn’t been easy, and maybe he’d been naïve for thinking it wouldn’t be hard the second time around. “I’m—” His eyes closed tightly as his head tilted to the side. He hated this, the way a three letter word felt like Mt. fucking Everest. “This is such bullshit,” Eddie announced with suddenly reopening eyes. He straightened up and took a breath. Try again. “I—I like guys, I guess.” The words shot out of his mouth faster than his usual speech, but he said it. And he didn’t feel sick. In fact, he felt kind of relieved. “One guy in particular, but yeah. I’m gay, probably. I dunno, something like that.” He winced at his convoluted confession, but he guessed it could have been worse. It could have been like the last time she tried to goad him into honesty. 

Morgan ached to see how much Eddie craved comfort,  like he’d been starved for it his whole life. He had the kind of hurt that didn’t show up on the body, the kind that she carried, that was so easy to delude yourself about. And how many times had her throat closed up when she’d tried to tell her mother, Sorry, everything’s my fault because I can only like girls! I’m a lesbian! It had been years before the words came easy to her. Eddie was only just getting started. 

“Hey,” she said softly, reaching for a clean towel and leaning over to wipe his cheeks with all the care she wished for him. “It’s not bullshit. It’s hard, I know it’s hard. But you are one of the dreamiest gay boys that ever popped out of the rainbow, and we are all so lucky that you exist. Maybe even especially the boy you like. I want to hear all about him, but first, new plan: we’re moving somewhere comfy. You’re not a part of the family until you’ve had an emotional moment in the great room, so let’s get moving.” 

She hopped off her stool and took Eddie’s mug and led him further into the house, toward the large plushy couch she and everyone she loved spent so much time on. “Also, I hope this goes without saying, but I will be there for support if that’s what you want. Just tell me when and where to show up. But, back to the main point: you’re amazing, and whatever happens, there’s no good reason for anyone to think differently. Especially because you’re gay. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we make the world go round in the most fabulous ways. But, conditioning, parents, society--there’s a lot of bullshit that keeps people like us from understanding that. When I came out to my mother, I was crying and apologizing because I thought I was literally cursing our family with my gayness. So as much as I believe in you, as much as I’m making this sound like some obvious truth--because it is--I can imagine why you might have a hard time believing it. But I don’t want to guess or project too much of myself.” At last, she settled down in her usual spot among the cushions, floating around them for how little she felt their presence. “So, can I ask you? Other people aside, because we can’t control other people’s choices, what about being gay scares you, or worries you or makes you feel...weird?”

Being called ‘one of the dreamiest gay boys to ever pop out of the rainbow’ managed to inspire Eddie’s first genuine smile of the night. Traces of sadness still lingered on his face, but he appreciated the break in tension more than he knew how to say. He didn’t know how to grapple with her saying people were lucky to know him, especially within the current context, it felt surreal. He wanted to thank Morgan in a way that showcased how much everything she said meant to him, but everything he thought to say fell short.

In the great room, he made himself comfortable next to her on the couch. A family of people like Morgan sounded too good to be true like most of what she said. Thinking about it reminded him of what she told him about the importance of hope, and Eddie decided there must have been some truth to it. As scary as it was to picture a brighter future for himself, it began to seem less like a lost cause.

“You apologized?” He didn’t mean to sound so shocked. Even though he knew better, it often seemed like self-acceptance came easier to everyone else. Hearing that even Morgan struggled to come to terms with her sexuality made him feel  substantially less alone. Eddie considered her next question carefully by turning his attention inward, it wasn’t something he often did. Pleasing the people around him automatically took precedence over making himself happy.

“Thinking about it now, I guess most of what scares me has to do with other people,” he admitted. “Rejection, ridicule, judgment, harassment. Those are the big ones and, like you said, all of that’s out of my control.” Eddie took his first sip of tea now that enough time had passed for it to cool. His hands shook a little. “If all I had to worry about was myself, I…” he trailed off in contemplation. “When I’m alone with Alfie, he’s the guy I mentioned, everything else falls away. When I touch him or manage to make him laugh—that’s it. That’s all that matters; just us. And it feels… amazing until I ask myself how people might react if they saw us. Then I start to feel dirty or-or like I’m doing something wrong, kind of like I’m going to be punished for being happy because…. because that’s always how it’s been.” Eddie realized how true what he said was as he said it. “Being gay scares me because it makes me happy.”

Had Morgan apologized to her mother? “Oh, profusely. I actually thought, if I just kept apologizing, maybe I wouldn’t ever have to actually say it and potentially break what little good there was between my mother and me. But she gave me this impatient look, and I had to, so I did. And it was--” She paused, smiling sadly. “It was maybe the only time she was really sorry for anything she’d done. She uh...she took care of me for a little bit. And that was nice. But this was in 1999, and we had an implicit understanding to keep that part of me on a need-to-know basis. But, things are different, in some ways. Maybe not for your parents, maybe not everywhere, but here? So different. So much better.” She ruffled his hair again and tried to look ahead into something better, lighter than the world he was currently living in. What would he even look like if he was really happy?

“Eddie, I really, really mean what I’m about to say. And I am saying it as someone who was literally cursed with eternal suffering during her life. As a lesbian born in ‘81. As someone who knows all kinds of logic-mazes for explaining why happiness equals bad. Okay?” She took a deep breath and turned his face gently to make sure he was looking at her face. “Love itself is never wrong. And so any happiness that comes from love can never be wrong. And you, Eddie, are so worthy of love. The last thing you need to carry is shame for discovering love, which is one of the best parts of being alive. And the last thing you should do is starve your humanity from love because of other people. The people who are happy for you and your love are the ones you should build community with anyway.”

1999 sounded like a lifetime ago. For Eddie, it nearly was. With the current state of the world and the issues its inhabitants faced, he couldn’t imagine what it must have been like back then. A need-to-know basis, that’s how Morgan described the experience. Eddie shook his head sadly. Living like that must have been so draining. Even now, for all his fear and uncertainty, he knew how lucky he was to be alive now instead of then. If he’d been born alongside Morgan in the ‘80s, this conversation likely wouldn’t have been possible. Not with her, and not with anyone else, for that matter. 

Looking to the past and acknowledging the hard-won fights of those who came before him, especially while sitting next to one of the veterans, an unexpected feeling came over Eddie. His journey, although he would be the one most affected by it, wasn’t only about him. 

“It’s different because of people like you,” he said. “I—” Eddie felt a knot form in his throat. “Morgan, if it wasn’t for you, I don’t know how long it would have taken me to reach this point. Years, maybe? And that’s if it ever happened at all.” Harsh as she’d been, her words resonated with him and carried him through confessing to Alfie. “You saw me, really saw me, and refused to tolerate the bullshit. I think I understand why now.” He shifted to face her more fully. “I want to be more like you, Morgan. Someone who makes the world a better place by existing as is, not someone who hides for the comfort of people who don’t love them.”

Love, happiness, community. Morgan said the words and Eddie latched onto them for dear life. He knew better than to think this would be easy, or that his budding bravery would never again waver in the face of adversity, but he felt better equipped to face the future. “I think you’re right,” he ventured as a look of determination shone in his bleary eyes. “I mean, I want to, anyway, and that’s a start. It’s more than I had before.”

Morgan went still, completely bewildered. “I didn’t do much,” she admitted quietly. “I was too scared. I told myself I’d just make things worse all around. But, you know, everyone was kind of scared back then. It was never about some people magically not being scared. It was about not letting your fear trap you into a life so much smaller than what you should have. You--don’t need to be like me, Eddie. Especially not the me I was at your age. I--maybe it’s not fair of me, but I really just want to spare you some of the suffering I carried with me for so long, and the suffering of people I knew. I saw tiny maneuvers that I used to make when we were talking and I saw your hurt and I just wanted to make it stop for you.” She shrugged. “Don’t wait to find the love of your life until you’re at the ass-end of your thirties. I mean, if it takes that long, who cares, because it’s exactly as cheesy and gratifying as every song you’ve ever heard makes it sound and that is worth every star in the universe. But don’t wait that long to try! You are so young, and it is over so fast. What a waste to spend it hiding when you can be testing your capacity for joy?”

She beamed at Eddie and gave his arm a squeeze. “Deciding to is a really good start. All that’s next is doing it. Do you want to figure out what you want to say? To Bex? To your parents?”

Even with Morgan telling him he didn’t need to be like her, Eddie didn’t let her convince him. He wouldn’t argue and insist she accept his purview, that didn’t seem like it would do much good. Instead, he decided to show her his appreciation with his actions moving forward. She thought she didn’t do much, and he imagined it really did feel that way, but it got her to where she was now; teaching him how to love himself in a way no one had done before. Whether she knew it or not, he owed her immensely.

He grinned when she mentioned finding the love of her life. Eddie was grateful she did, and wondered if he might have too. He knew it was too soon to tell even if he and Alfie had known each other for years, but it didn’t hurt to play with the thought. 

Eddie took a deep breath when she asked where he’d like to begin. “Bex, definitely,” he said with a confident nod. “I don’t want whatever my mom and dad have to say about it to throw me off before I have a chance to enjoy myself, y’know? With Bex, at least she won’t hold it against me for just… being who I am.”

“No, she won’t,” Morgan agreed. “She won’t appreciate being lied to, but she’s not a closed minded girl. I think being honest about why you did what you did and why you’re doing this now is a good step alongside, you know, ‘guess what babe, I’m gay’. It’s kind of awful, but coming clean is usually the fastest way to fix something when you’ve made a mess. Even if it also feels like the hardest.” And maybe Bex would have some relief and tell Eddie about all those ‘I love you’s she’d exchanged with Mina by the pool. But as much as that would give Eddie some comfort, it wasn’t hers to tell. And maybe he’d feel braver, going in prepared for the worst and finding his world still intact. “Although, maybe don’t be that casual and literally say that. Unless it helps you say it easier! Once the words have come out, you sort of have to keep going with them, and that can actually be as great as it is scary.”

Eddie’s head bobbed in agreement as Morgan offered advice. He wouldn’t let doubt trickle in and throw him off course, not yet. If she said Bex would understand, he trusted her. They lived together once, made art together, they had to have been close. Eddie momentarily wondered why that all came to an end, but now wasn’t the time to ask questions like that. In any case, it wasn’t his business what went on between Bex and Morgan even if he cared about both of them a great deal.

He breathed a soft laugh through his nose when she advised him against being as casual as her example. “I have… no idea what the easiest way to say it will be,” he admitted. “I try to plan it out in my mind and a wall goes up.” He made a sharp gesture with his hand to mimic the wall being built. “Maybe…” Eddie trailed off as an idea began forming. “Okay, what if you pretend to be Bex and we play out what might happen? I think I’ll do better with a trial run.”

Morgan snorted with laughter. “We, uh--” Could, but there’s no way I can prepare you for her not-girlfriend in the pool. “Yeah! Why not. Bex is not the most predictable girl, but I will do my best.” She took a deep breath and adjusted herself on the couch. “Hey, Eddie,” she said, doing her best imitation of Bex’s speech cadence. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something?”

Eddie straightened up and mentally prepared himself, but the second Morgan imitated Bex, he burst out in unexpected laughter. “Is that really what you think Mainers sound like?” he asked in a bubbly tone. “Maybe, just use your normal accent and I’ll rely on my imagination. I cannot take you seriously when you sound like that.”

“What? That was totally spot-on!” Morgan said, laughing in spite of herself. She shook out her hair and tossed it into Bex’s usual middle part. “Is this not the spitting image? I don’t have the height, but I’ve got the nervous puppy eyes.” Morgan demonstrated, and not too badly, but only because she already had that face in her arsenal long before she met Bex. “But, okay, okay. I am me and you are imagining me as Bex: Hey, Eddie. What did you want to talk to me about?”

When Morgan insisted her Bex impersonation had been spot-on, Eddie immediately shook his head defiantly. “You have natural puppy dog eyes, doing that doesn’t count towards your score. Let me show you a real Bex impersonation.” He took a moment to get into character. His hands clasped in his lap, his shoulders jutted forward slightly to give the impression of timidity, and his eyes widened with brightness.

“Oh, um, hi, Morgan,” he said, altering his voice to convey Bex’s signature nervous excitement. “You said—You said you wanted to talk to me, right? I was busy studying, y’know, about anthropology—” Eddie nearly made himself break character by laughing, but quickly centered himself. “But I… I want to hear what you have to say.”

Eddie raised both hands palm-side up and leaned back with a satisfied expression on his face. “And that’s how it’s done.”

When Morgan was herself as Bex and Eddie returned to being Eddie, the seriousness of the situation crept back up on him. “What I want to talk to you about is… well, us,” he started slowly. His heart picked up speed within his chest even though he wasn’t actually talking to Bex. “I haven’t been completely honest with you about… about who I am. I haven’t been honest with myself, either, but I want to change that, starting now. Bex, I care about you very much and losing you as a friend would wreck me, but I can’t be your boyfriend anymore.” The words flowed from him with surprising ease. When he talked instead of obsessively thinking about what he wanted to say, it came naturally to him.

“I’m gay, and I need to stop hurting both of us by pretending that I’m not.”

Morgan thought carefully, trying to think of Bex’s worst case scenario and some response that wouldn’t crush Eddie’s spirit. Empathy wasn’t always her strong suit, and this had been going on for a little while… “Oh. When you say that, do you mean, did you know that you were when you asked me out? And when we kissed?”

“Yes,” Eddie responded hesitantly. He needed to be as honest as possible and not allow himself to hide behind excuses. Even if he did, he knew Morgan would call him out. “At the time, I thought it might be something I could change or, at least, conceal by being in a relationship with you. I understand if you’re upset with me, but I… I really do care about you. I never should’ve wrapped you up in my self-loathing. You deserve better than that.”

“I...can’t believe you used me like that. I think...I’m going to need a little bit of time with this. All this time, I was sort of hoping you’d be one of the few people who wasn’t lying to me,” Morgan said, choosing her words carefully. “But I don’t hate you Eddie. I could never hate you. And I don’t want to stop being your friend. Are you--gonna be okay and all?”

Eddie appreciated Morgan’s commitment to letting things play out honestly even though it stung. “I’m sorry for being so selfish. I will try my best to make it up to you in the future, if you’ll let me. Once… once you’ve had time, of course.” At the very least, Morgan elected to have her version of Bex not cut him out of her life completely. It gave him a little hope. “Yeah, yeah, I’m gonna be okay,” he said softly, slipping out of the scene as he struggled a little under the weight of it. He knew he could do this, or hoped he could anyway, but it was hard. And it would be even harder when it really happened. “How was that?” he asked Morgan, not Bex, hoping she would accept that he’d reached his limit. After the past 24 hours and all they entailed, he was starting to feel the gravity of emotional exhaustion take its toll.

fadaMorgan beamed and drew Eddie tight into her arms. “That was good. That was so, so good. And you were so brave. And I need to tell you now, I don’t think it’ll be that bad. But I did think that you might feel better if you’ve practiced the worst-case scenario with her I could think of, and know it’ll be okay. And it will be. One way or another, I know it will be okay with you and Bex. Alright?”

Eddie melted into the embrace immediately. He appreciated how well Morgan already knew to take care of him. After years spent being touch-starved, moments like this were life-savers. “I’m glad you played it that way,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her. “Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.” Everything felt heavy, but he only needed to carry it a little further. “I trust you,” he said, meaning it with his entire heart. “I think I’m gonna be okay.”

[clansayeed]

Hey Jack! I wanted to know what your thoughts are on Rheya. Was she really a villain to you? Were her motives justifiable? Was she a good villain? Did you think she deserved to have a redemption arc in chapter 16? What could have been written to make her have a better character story? Any thoughts at all about Rheya!

FOREWARNING: Anon... I accidentally wrote you a 2500 word essay. I shit you not this thing is 2,528 words long. So... I don’t know whether to say you’re welcome or I’m sorry. Just letting you know in advance.

ADD-ON POST-POSTING: I’m fully aware this is an app game. A three book series written with sexying vampires in mind. Where the medium is limited both size and content-wise, where you can’t go into much detail because they can only have so many panels in a chapter, etc. Still thinking what I think though. And if you get paid to create content professionally the least you can do for your own paycheck is go back and double-check your work.

Actually this ask came at a good time since I have to work on some character motivations for her for my series... and I always break down the in-canon versions before working on my own. So anon, let’s talk... are you a mind reader?

Kidding! mostly

So. Rheya.

I actually just finished my first replay of book 2 and at the moment I’ve only ever played book 3 the once. I played it as it was releasing so there were some memory gaps in some places and needed-refreshers in others. But on a whole I have similar thoughts about Rheya as I do Xenocrates, and you can find those thoughts here.

Overall she was a solid setup, good design and potential, and PB pretty much wasted her execution.

I wanna start with a genuine question to the fandom since I’ve never actually been able to ask this... but y’all like... totally saw the Bloodkeeper being related to her coming, right? Like I was so convinced of it that when it was revealed in some big dramatic point at the end I was like “yeah... they told us this...?” and it turns out they fuckin didn’t??? Like I could not understand the people who were like super into her sprite like yes she looks good but here I was thinking she was our ancestor from the get-go so I was... confused to say the least.

Not gonna lie when they started pushing in snippets of Rheya’s past trauma in book 2 (things like her yelling “you know what they did to me/took from me” which is paraphrased but you know what I mean) I really hoped they weren’t gonna do what they did. So of course they did it.

But I wish they’d like... just given her the kid. Just give her Iola and leave the weird suddenly random husband out of it. At this point we know Gaius has an unhealthy idolatry for her, we know Xenocrates adored her in his own way in his youth... but we know fuckall about Demetrius up to and including his existence until literally book 3. Sloppy, IMO. They took something not being mentioned and used it to put in a plot device when the omission should have been strategical.

TBH I thought the whole “you know what they did to me” was gonna get hella dark RE: Rheya and King Kaelisus’ obsession with her. That’s as far as I’ll go there.

But you have a Priestess, a known Priestess, who was definitely faithful enough not to stray even when she thought she was walking to her own death. It’s pretty easy to assume (as I did ngl) that she would be completely devoted to Phampira, including romantically/sexually. It would have been a good setup to explain why she never gave Gaius the goods if anything.

And there’s nothing wrong with having said Priestess have her own family while still being devoted. I just wish PB would have used some fucking forethought and hinted at that earlier on than they did. Because they didn’t hint. They dropped this random fisherman-something husband on us and told us she cared enough about his opinion to make him part of her advisory board but not... to like... mention him in any of her conversations in any of the flashbacks... including those in which he would have been alive.

On that note the whole timeline there is really messy, they obviously threw him and Iola in later on after some things were established/couldn’t be taken back. I’ve studied this shit extensively and it’s really muddled exactly how long Rheya ruled, when shit went down with her family, how much time had passed when Xenocrates staked her, etc.

I would have loved for Iola’s father not to have been there. Give me a strong woman, a strong single mother, who would burn the world for the loss of her daughter. Doesn’t matter who did the deed, Iola was hers and the Sons/Order took that from her and the world would have to pay the price.

If I had been given that I would end all of my complaints right here. I would, genuinely. Because then her descent into madness, her paranoia, her megalomania would all have been explained. And they still technically are but -- maybe it’s just me -- there’s something about her having to factor in Demetrius that just... takes me out of it. IDK.

I didn’t mind the guy... though him being a talking tree of doom was a little much for me... though by that point I had accepted the plot was off the goddamn rails and just kept nodding and going with it. But his presence made the story okay when his absence could have made the story impactful and powerful and emotional. That’s just my thoughts. Which you asked for. You did this.

No takesies-backsies.

Was she a villain? Hells to the yes.

It’s a classic case of obtaining ultimate power and abusing it; of crossing the line between justice and vengeance. Not that she wasn’t justified in her freak-out over the death of her family. But everything after up to and including her fatal feeding schedule was totally unnecessary. For a villain, yes necessary. 

For a vampire goddess who could have easily used Gaius’ influence over the vampires of the modern world to form a cult following around herself with an open dialogue about her big ass appetite and probably would have ended up with swaths of willing adorers ready to lend their blood to her cause thus eliminating the need for secrecy and subsequent feeling of betrayal...

You tell me.

I feel like she was definitely more than a little hyped up though. Not even going into my whole-ass issue with the entire Unchained plot and thus the first like 4-5 chapters of book 3, she was hyped up in myth and kind of a let down in person. She could FLY. Walk in the SUN. Heal the DYING. She’s vampire JESUS.

*ADDED IN LATER: She took out THE ENTIRE ORDER OF THE DAWN, WHO HAVE RAVAGED THE VAMPIRE POPULATION FOR LITERALLY 3000 YEARS since they were around in her time after all IN LIKE A THREE-MOVE COMBO BREAK. ALL THIS SHIT THEY HYPED WITH THE ORDER and their entire ERADICATION isn’t even an ON-SCREEN THING. Unless you pay.

Dude if they had kept Xenocrates and the Order and used the two of them against each other; the Order’s long-standing influence on the modern world versus the new world Rheya wanted to create with the human populations not knowing the history behind their hatred, where like the first half of the book is Rheya and MC and gang taking out the Order and Xenocrates only to find out in the middle point that she’s been doing it for selfish reasons and they were on the wrong team the whole time and THEN Rheya becomes the big bad... I would have enjoyed the shit out of that.

Anyway. “She’s vampire JESUS...” and her big evil plan is to... suck face on national television? IDK. It didn’t play the mood right for me. I can see from a writer’s perspective how they kind of played out all of their options and went with a quick and easy solution... but it didn’t work for me. That’s a no from me dawg.

Do I think she deserved a redemption arc? I don’t think anybody deserved a god damn redemption arc, unless they are done with extreme care and attention to detail before/during/after said arc they go horribly, and overall tend to be the plot device pick of lazy writers.

And I take nothing back. No like I think I might have gone into how much I fucking hated Gaius’ “reDEmPtiON aRc” before or at least I have somewhere and to someone. Probably Sofia... no most definitely Sofia. But anyway. They spend TWO GOD DAMN BOOKS hyping Gaius as this ultimately irredeemable bad guy. 

OMG I was literally playing the book 2 finale and got a quote hold on... HERE. Adrian literally says about Gaius in 2.16 “It’s like there’s no humanity left.” And that’s just one actual example of the tons of times they make him out to be devoted to Rheya of his own volition, the ultimate example of the line between believing in something and being blinded to everything by it, etc. Like a huge chunk of Kamilah’s and Adrian’s arcs RE: Gaius are about how he was definitely a monster, he turns the people around him into monsters, and while they have worked their asses off to be good and right their wrongs he has not, will not, and would not ever do such a thing.

Then suddenly he’s brainwashed, tried to turn Rheya down and was made into a loony toon because of it, and everything he made MC’s loved ones do that they blamed themselves for but needed to blame him for is suddenly Rheya’s fault and now we should blame her for.

Mmmmmkay sweetie. I’m good, thanks.

But really -- that was the last straw for me when it came to both Gaius and Rheya. There’s a difference between giving the villain something they see as a just cause (ex. Rheya avenging her family) and giving the villain a cop-out that absolves them of guilt (ex. Gaius and... everything about him). Like yes I know MC didn’t have to forgive him, I know Kamilah didn’t really forgive him, but it’s pretty fuckin obvious from how it was put out into the world story that the writers were trying to lean you towards blaming Rheya and letting Gaius off the hook.

I mean... making him save Lula for real when Rheya saved her for fake earlier on in the book, using Lula as a stand-in metaphor for her own child daughter that she finds out she was the cause of her death for, etc? That symbolism is so transparent I could put it in the asset database.

And I’ll only briefly touch on this since I could write a whole other essay on the matter RE: PB and their fucking constant repetition of this, but “let’s give both bad guys similar moral quandaries but suddenly reveal it was a consent issue and the woman is wholly to blame and now gets the man’s crimes piled on with her own” is super common in fiction and hella. fucking. sexist.

But that isn’t to say all of this is necessarily bad.

When done right, everything I’ve complained about above can be a part of a really good story. What “done right” means is different for everyone, everyone has a different example and different thoughts on it. These are mine. I think the better term would be done well. It was not done WELL.

But given things like PB’s weird obsession with redeeming the attractive (apparently) bad guy, PB’s history with narrowing a woman down to one trait or part of her (ex. Rheya’s power corruption centered around her role as a wife and mother and not... a super all powerful vampire goddess...), their obvious lack of attention to detail and overall lack of vision when it comes to the big picture* and more, I personally don’t think they knew what the fuck they wanted by book 3 and were already well into transitioning into whatever adultery-obsessed lingerie shenanery they’re fixated on now; so much so that it’s almost a disservice to the writing done in earlier book 1 and a decent chunk of book 2 when calling it a whole series.

*I keep bringing this up only because it means I can back up stuff like this with real examples of theirs: these guys did not write the plot of this series as a cohesive story. I get that, as a writer writing a big series myself I get the fuck out of that. But you have to solidify some things early on in the development process in order to avoid writing yourself into a hole or, like with this, having to result in trope-y plot devices that work in theory but on paper don’t give the story the full-circle fulfillment it deserves. 

Their timelines are out of whack, they contradict themselves in quite a few places, constantly wishy-washy their own lore, and definitely didn’t go back and double check if they’d said something already... and that’s not including where they focused on the details of one unimportant thing and left another more important thing to just be “and this is the way it is moving on.”

I literally have no way/idea how to summarize any of this bullshittery going on in this ask. Did I like Rheya? The character personality, design, and overall idea as this big ass badass power/hungry goddess demanding fealty was pretty cool. Did I like Rheya when they narrowed her story down to her grief over her family (which, again, is valid, but just seemed really disjointed and rushed when compared to everything else they had given about her/shown of her by the beginning of book 3)? Not... as much.

I think they wanted her to seem like she could be redeemed. I mean FFS in the “big battle” she literally just stands there and lets you do the thing. 3000 years imprisoned and however many centuries before that spent taking the power that she was denied all because some bad dudes in masks killed the mortal husband and daughter you would have eventually lost to old age anyway...? And she just stands there??? 

Even knowing she was really behind Iola’s death they could have stuck with the “madness consumed” plotline and had her be like well... what’s done is done back to taking over now thank you.

But sometimes a bad guy just has to be a bad guy. Rourke from ES, mister capitalism -- can’t remember them trying to redeem him. If they had I don’t think I would have liked it so much. Who else... UGH. Thomas in NB. Crazy zombie man wants all monsters dead because one killed his family (can we stop using dead families for grief porn please and thanks...) another example of a useless villain. Hence why I removed him from my NB rewrite don’t even get me going...

What’s his face in TCATF! Luther! You join up with him and he still tries to kill you in the end! Now that was fucking classic. Hex, who suddenly is forgiven for the literal enslavement of a race of people and the thoughtless murder of a civilization that didn’t agree with her.. and all because she was ‘like a mother’ to the kid genius? Not so much.

I could go on and on and go search out tons of examples but in the end the one thing you can say PB does well is that they stay consistent in their ideas of redemption, of who deserves it and who isn’t, and just how far they’re willing to stretch the fucking story to forgive a character if 1. the sprite is hot or 2. the sprite had a little sprite family somewhere in there.

legit just talk to me about bb/nb

[restlessmaknae]

Wtf did those assholes at mnet do now?! Swear to God someone's kneecaps are going to get smashed if they did anything to any of those groups.

Hey! So I'm not the most invested person in the show (exactly because of Mnet and how they broke the Golden Child members' hearts last season... especially Joochan's 😭😭😭), but basically in the last episode, the collab unit with The Boyz, SF9 and iKON didn't win a single round (dance, rap and vocal). It kinda feels fishy (though what doesn't when it comes to Mnet?), especially since if I could understand correctly (though again Mnet is playing with its point system as if it was a child's game), all they relied on this time was the so-called experts' panel which was made up of mostly idols (but the majority of them are newly debuted groups like Weekly and Tribe) and some professionals like Lia Kim.

I've watched all stages and I truly believe that in at least one, their unit should have won. So you can imagine the heartbreak that SF9, The Boyz and iKON had since they had already been in the last three places even before this round, so suddenly, the gap is even wider between the first three and the last three groups because Mnet decided to give out 5000 points for each unit win this time, so basically Stray Kids, Ateez and BTOB are ahead with 15000 points if I'm correct. And this is the biggest prize for any win so far and even bigger than their points combined for the previous rounds!

Sure, it might be better than eliminating a group, but again, Mnet had the nerve to make a drama out of this whole situation and use the groups' breakdowns as clickbait. Not to mention that Inseong from SF9 made a mistake in their vocal unit stage, and of course, Mnet had to show him blaming himself for losing their round and crying and showing SF9's heartbroken reaction over it, too. And then, I've read that people started making fun of him online because of his mistake which wouldn't have been that big of a thing if Mnet hadn't made it seem like one (I believe so).

So yeah, I respect all the groups for participating, and I applaud their hard work, so this is not me hating on any group for winning rounds or not. I just think Mnet is unfair and making up excuses to make it seem like it's giving out points fairly and thriving on drama when this show would have been so much better with a clear, CONSISTENT point system, and the groups genuinely enjoying it without having to second-guess their abilities because Mnet pushes them to their limits and gives haters chances to pick on them. I've been following all the groups, so it's not me having biases either, but it breaks my heart whenever someone is crying on the show because we know how much Mnet has been scouting groups that were willing to participate, and now imagine agreeing and getting this treatment! Jinhwan already almost cried when they placed last in the first round, Inseong already cried when they placed last, and The Boyz are constantly blaming themselves for not being good enough, and I hate how Mnet uses these moments for entertainment purposes!

There were problems with this show right from the start, and I'm afraid there will be problems in the future. So I try not to get too worked up, but I just can't stand when these groups are in pain (first place or not, doesn't matter).

Hope it answered your question! ♥️