#constantly fight the exact same fights over and over again and to just hope that somehow you'll be lucky and actually win

[miley1442111]

Hello!

I know its probably too soon but im obsessed with "i dont even know you anymore" but one of these days could you make a continuation with the reader and aaron getting close and the team sees it and they are all cute and he treats her like a gentleman (with a bit of age gap because...its just right).

Thank you, and i totally get it if you dont want to do it and want it to be just a "stand alone".

Xoxo😘

omg I love this idea!!!! i hope i did it justice :)

i don't even know you anymore- s.reid /a.hotchner

a/n: intended for fem or male reader, so imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: you can get past your break up with Spencer, especially with Aaron by your side, right?

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader, brokenupspencer reid x reader

warnings: general angst, cheating and breaking up, general fighting, kissing, emotional stuff

PART 1

4 moths post-breakup

It had been a gruelling 4 months. You had moved out of Spencer and your shared apartment, much to his disappointment. You had broken up with him the morning after, knowing you wouldn’t have felt secure in the relationship had it gone on. Emily, your best friend on the team, had been letting you live with her and she had told Aaron. It was clear as day to everyone that Aaron had a soft spot for you. As the youngest on the team (you were the same age as Spencer, just a few months younger), he felt it was his duty. He’d always step in if a superior was belittling you, always step up if an officer was flirting with or objectifying you when Spencer was too busy to notice, and he had reached out after the breakup, telling you that he could reassign you if you wanted, but urged you to stay on the team since you were such an asset. 

Your text conversations started with that, and slowly evolved into daily conversations about anything. Cute photos of Jack, funny jokes that soon turned into inside jokes, ideas on cases, and plans to get coffee. Your daily texts from Aaron, the support from Emily and the team, and the knowledge that you’d done the right thing for yourself, made the shitty time easier. What wasn’t easy was Spencer's daily ‘apology coffee’. He’d get you a coffee from your favourite coffee shop and write a sticky note, begging to even just talk. It was becoming soul-shattering how sad he constantly looked. A part of you wanted to run back to him and just be there for him, but you knew it’d only cause you pain. Jj refused to talk to you unless it was about a case, or to chew you out over Spencer’s devastated state and her now failing marriage at least once a week. You’d reached out to Will, assuming he’d known. He hadn’t, and now he was taking the kids. You felt bad, truly, and you wished you hadn’t said anything, but there’s only so much someone can do. You’d told Jj the second it happened and apologised profusely. Did she curse you out over the phone? Yes. Did she say Spencer never truly loved you? Yes. 

But did any of that fix her marriage? No.

Cases and days passed uneventfully, full of blood, guts, and longing glances from Spencer. You had started going apartment hunting recently and you felt better. You felt like yourself again. 

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

6 months post-breakup 

This case was particularly difficult, the unSub was targeting women of your exact description, and you had been chosen to go undercover- your least favourite pastime. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know that right?” Derek asked as he watched you turn your mic on. 

“Who else is? He needs to be stopped.”

“You don’t have to be the one to stop him, his behaviour isn’t escalating-” Spencer had budded in but you held up a hand to silence him. His rambling used to make you feel special because you were the only one who truly listened to him. You never cut him off or said something back-handed. You never made it a joke. Now his rambling felt bitter and silly to your ears, a reminder of just how stupid you’d been. 

“I’ll be fine,” You sighed. “I’ve done this before, right?”

Derek nodded and pulled you into a quick hug. Spencer tried to pull you in for a hug but you dodged him, wanting to get all of this over with. You hated being undercover. It made you feel powerless and objectified.

“Agent?” Aaron coughed out and you stared in his direction. “Can I have a word?”

“Sure,” you shrugged and followed him into an empty interrogation room. “Planning on interrogating me?”

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, letting his guard down as he had so many times in the past few months. He had opened up about so much. He had opened up about Haley’s death, about how bad of a parent he feels, anything. He even let you come over and have a movie night with him and Jack once a week. Jack falls asleep halfway through and Aaron puts him to bed and you pick a movie that isn’t about paw patrol or trolls. Though you enjoy watching those all the same. Jack cuddles up to you and smiles at you until he falls asleep. It’s adorable. 

“I’m sure. I’ll be fine, don’t worry Aaron,” you smiled, taking his hand. “I’m trained for this, right?”

“I’ll be right there,” he promised. “Say the word and we’ll come in.”

“I know,” you chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful?” 

“I promise,” You smiled and kissed his cheek, leaving the room swiftly after. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being undercover was just about as terrible as you thought it would be. The unSub was an asshole, of course he was- he was murdering women. But he was a particular kind of asshole, the kind that takes women down for their insecurities so that he could lure them to him. He was verbally degrading you and if you were being yourself, you would’ve talked back. But, you were undercover and playing a college student. 

And that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was when Spencer came in, acting as your ‘boyfriend’ to get him away, ruining the only chance you had at capturing the guy. You slumped against your seat in the SUV as Spencer attempted to justify his actions to the rest of the team outside the car.

“I thought he was going to-” He was speaking a mile a minute, but stopped when Aaron put his hand up. 

“Do you have any idea what you just jeopardised?” He boomed, calm but clearly angry. “That was the closest we have ever been to him, and now he knows your face Spencer. He also knows Y/n’s face. He knows you're with the FBI and he knows we’re looking for him! Do you have any idea how stupid that was?” 

“Hotch I’m sorry I-I was worried-” he tried to apologise but Aaron cut him off again.

“Spencer, we were all worried about Y/n. Every single one of us. But you have to remember that she’s a trained agent, and that she’s not your girlfriend anymore,” Aaron stormed off to the other car with Dave trailing behind as the rest of the team stood there, shocked. 

“This is all your fault Y/N!” Jj provoked. “None of this would’ve happened if you didn’t make it such a big deal!”

You rolled your eyes and put on your headphones, the want to leave the team grew stronger everyday. You hated Spencer. You hated Jj. You didn’t know how much more you could take. 

“Listen to me!” Jj urged and you just turned your music up as Emily and Derek began defending you.

Jj shoved you, and it was the last straw. You got up and out of the car. You knocked in Aaron’s window in the next car and he rolled it down. “Can I come with you two?”

They both nodded and Aaron opened his door, allowing you to climb in. 

“What’s going on?” Dave asked after a moment of silence. 

“The end of my time with the BAU. I’m leaving,” you sighed, not looking at Aaron. You’d technically gone over his head and went straight to Strauss, but you didn’t care. You weren't going to change your mind on this, and you didn’t want him to try. 

“That’s very sad news,” Dave sighed. “You’re a great asset to this team.”

“I’m just dividing it. There’s no need for me to cause this much trouble. Spencer would’ve never gone in if he didn’t think he was ‘saving’ our relationship, Jj would be more focused on work and there would be less tension. I’m so sick of everyone picking a side. It’s not fair.”

“But you shouldn’t have to leave, this doesn’t need to happen-” Aaron started but Dave cut him off. 

“You're doing a very kind thing for people that probably don’t deserve it,” Dave sighed. “Where are you planning on going after?”

“I don’t know yet,” You shrugged and saw Aaron practically deflate.

“You have no plan?” He asked, clearly concerned.

“No? I have a law degree, I might go into that, or I’ll just join another department at Quantico. I don’t have everything mapped out right now Aaron.”

Aaron remained with a hardened look on his face the rest of the ride to the airport. The tension in the air was palpable and, to be honest, you were sick of it. You just wanted this to be over with. It was draining, and taking a toll on you mentally. Any breakup would, but this breakup included the team. The most important people to you were forced to pick a side and chose who was in the wrong or right. Jj and some others from the office had picked Spencer’s side, saying it was unfair that you didn’t hear him out. Whereas Penelope, Emily, Aaron, Dave, Derek, and the rest of the office took your side, saying it was wrong to kiss someone else, especially a mutual friend and coworker, and someone he’d admitted to having a serious crush on. You were done. You were leaving.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

8 months post-breakup 

Honestly, not being on the BAU had some getting used to. Your team had been your family for so long that being without them felt strange. You had been reassigned to the Criminal Justice Information Services Division, or CJIS for short. You’d moved a whole 4 and half hours away from Quantico, much to the team's chagrin. You loved it there, it was a nice change. Though, you missed your weekly movie nights at Aaron’s (those now had to be turned monthly), you missed your daily catch-ups with Emily which had to be moved over facetime, since you didn’t live down the block from each other anymore, and you missed being a profiler. You missed Pen, David and Derek, you even kind of missed Jj. 

A knock sounded at your door and you instantly got up and smiled, opening it without even looking. “Jack!” You wrapped the little boy up in a large hug and felt him giggle into your shoulder. You heard Aaron’s laughter and looked up at him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it as a small greeting. Jack wrangled himself out of your arms and began to run inside your house, desperate to eat the freshly popped popcorn you always made for him. 

“Hi honey,” Aaron smiled, pulling you in for a hug. His nicknames always made you feel special, your favourite being ‘honey’. You thought it sounded more romantic and endearing than other nicknames. Not that you thought of Aaron in a romantic way. Never. You wouldn’t. Not even when he picked Jack up with ease, a t-shirt on to show the swell of his biceps. Not when he crept his arm around you during movies. Definitely not when we helped you cook in the kitchen, for example, when you made bread. He looked so-

You pushed those feelings out of your head. 

“Hey Aaron,” you smiled as he pulled away. “How are you?” 

“I’m fine thank you, how are you?” He asked, a small smile on his face. 

“I’m good, I love my new department,” You beamed, though this topic was clearly a sore one for Aaron. His body language changed, he was more rigid, more tense. 

“That's good,” he deadpanned. “The BAU misses you.”

“I miss them too,” you chuckled, reminiscing on better times. “Send them my love, will you?”

“Of course, honey,” he smiled again as he saw you get flustered. 

The night went off as usual, Jack falling asleep immediately, putting him to bed in your guest bedroom, watching a movie, cleaning up, making out with Aaron on your couch- wait, what?

There you were, making out with Aaron on your couch. The tension had finally broken and now, his hands were on your waist as you straddled his legs, kissing him feverishly. 

“I want you,” Aaron rasped. “I want you as my girlfriend.”

You pulled away, catching your breath. “Seriously?”

He nodded and kissed you again, even more forceful than last time. 

“I’m yours,” you said in between kisses. 

“You’re mine.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

12 months post-breakup

Dating Aaron had been bliss. He was the perfect gentleman in every way, and he was perfect for you. You loved him. He loved you. He had also convinced you to come up to Quantico to see the team. Something that was becoming increasingly real as you stepped foot inside the bullpen and saw everyone’s faces. Spencer looked elated to see you, it was a full year since you’d broken up and maybe he was healed? Derek looked excited to see you, as did Penelope, David, Emily, and, of course, Aaron. He walked over and pulled you into a hug and smiled, happy that you were doing this. Penelope ran over next, then Emily, David, Derek and, finally, Spencer. Jj was nowhere to be seen- probably a good thing.

“It’s so good to see you, I didn’t realise you were coming back-” He rambled but you cut him off.

“I’m not coming back, I just came to say hi to everyone,” you smiled. “Aaron convinced me.”

Aaron tried to hide his smirk with his hand but it didn’t work well, and looking at Spencer, you’d think he was being faced with the most horrific challenge of his life. 

“You’re who Aaron’s dating,” Spencer stated and there was a collective gasp from the office. You looked to Aaron in panic and he nodded. 

“Yes, we are dating,” Aaron said, the focus turning to him. “It’s only new so I’d really like for everyone to calm do-”

“How could you do that to me?” Spencer turned to you, sounding broken-hearted. “You go after Hotch to make me, what? Jealous? To make me want you again? I’ve always wanted you, I’ll always want you! You don’t want him, you want me.”

“Spencer, I’m dating Aaron because I love him. Me and you are history, it happened a year ago!”

“It was a 3 year long relationship, you don’t just get over it in a few months,” Spencer seethed. 

“Yeah, it took me a long time, but I am over it.”

“That’s not fair,” Spencer stormed off, clearly upset but no one went after him. The rest of your visit was filled with catching up with people, laughter, and a nice dinner. You and Aaron went back to his house, since you didn’t feel like driving the 4 and half hours home. As you went inside, you saw Jessica, she smiled at you as you caught up, then left when you were done talking. She had been watching Jack and put him to sleep, meaning you and Aaron had the house practically to yourselves. You noticed Aaron had been acting off since the confrontation with Spencer, you assumed it was anger but no, it was something else. You grabbed his hand and sat him on the couch, sitting beside him. 

“Talk to me,” you pleaded, a hand running through his hair.

“About what?” he chuckled, though it lacked humour and life.

“About what’s wrong.”

He stared at you for a moment, then sighed. “I understood Spencer’s point. You shouldn’t want me. I’m not exactly in the prime of my life, I have a child, I’m not exactly up to going clubbing or things like that. You should be with someone your own age. Someone like Spencer-”

“Spencer cheated on me. Aaron, I love you. I love you so much. You’re the most handsome, caring, and loving person I’ve ever met, you’re a brilliant dad, you and I both know I wouldn’t go clubbing either way, and you’re very proficient in other forms of exertion so I wouldn't worry about that. I love you Aaron. You.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, a kiss that soon turned heated. You knew he understood you. You knew he heard you. And you knew you’d be ok. 

You loved him, he loved you.  

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

[merwgue]

Rhysand and the Inner Circle are often portrayed as champions of justice, protectors of Velaris, and saviors of peace, but when you take a closer look at their treatment of both the Illyrians and the people of the Hewn City, you’ll see a disturbing level of hypocrisy, elitism, and even racism embedded in their actions. For all their talk of fairness and equality, the way they treat entire groups of people within their own court reveals how fundamentally flawed and unjust their rule is.

1. Racism Toward the Illyrians – A Supposedly “Inferior” Race

Rhysand and the Inner Circle make it clear time and time again that they view the Illyrians as second-class citizens. The Illyrians, who make up the backbone of Rhysand’s army, are constantly belittled and treated as if they’re beneath the more “civilized” fae of Velaris. Despite their warrior culture, strength, and the pivotal role they play in defending the Night Court, Rhysand and his Inner Circle continuously look down on them as primitive, savage, and in need of “control.”

Cassian, an Illyrian general who should be fighting for his own people, essentially enables Rhysand’s oppression. Instead of standing up for his own heritage, Cassian reinforces the hierarchy by subjecting his own people to brutal conditions. The Illyrians are forced to train endlessly for a war machine, with their wings clipped by their own people and their potential to rise above their societal limitations crushed by Rhysand’s lack of real investment in their future. For all the power Rhys wields, has he made any meaningful reforms for the Illyrians? Absolutely not. The Illyrians are kept in a state of perpetual servitude, viewed as pawns in the larger game.

Rhysand’s hypocrisy is glaring: he criticizes Tamlin for controlling Feyre and treating her like property, yet he does the exact same thing to the Illyrians, treating them as tools for war rather than equals. They are denied access to the luxury and peace of Velaris, instead being confined to their mountainous, war-driven culture. Rhysand’s so-called progressive rule does nothing to uplift the Illyrians—he keeps them under his thumb, controlling them with an iron fist under the guise of “order.” Their desires, their culture, their autonomy—none of that matters to him.

2. Hewn City – A System of Oppression

The treatment of the Hewn City is perhaps even more egregious. These people are literally tortured and oppressed by Rhysand and his Inner Circle. They live under the constant threat of violence, with no access to Velaris, no right to escape the cruelty of their lives, and no hope for freedom. Rhysand rules the Hewn City through fear, cruelty, and control, all while basking in the adoration of Velaris as a benevolent ruler. But if you’re from Hewn City? You’re out of luck. You’re deemed lesser, unworthy, and kept trapped in a hellish existence.

Imagine a woman in the Hewn City, trapped in an abusive household, desperate to escape. Maybe she wants a better life, a chance to start over, to live in Velaris—the so-called “City of Starlight” where peace and beauty reign. But she can’t. Because she’s from Hewn City, she has no right to even enter Velaris. She’s not deemed good enough. She’s stuck, left to rot in the shadow of the Night Court’s cruelty, with no hope of ever tasting the freedom that Velaris promises. Rhysand and the Inner Circle have set up a system where if you’re from Hewn City, you’re less than. You’re nothing.

This isn’t just a political power move—it’s an outright human rights violation. The people of Hewn City are kept under a thumb of oppression, denied any opportunities for a better life. They are stripped of their agency, their dreams, their right to seek something better. It’s classic elitism and classism, with Rhysand and his Inner Circle playing the role of the elite, while the Hewn City citizens are left to suffer. There’s no compassion, no chance for redemption. The message is clear: if you’re from Hewn City, you will never be worthy.

3. Torture and Public Humiliation in Hewn City

Rhysand's rule over the Hewn City goes beyond exclusion and elitism—it crosses into outright torture and public humiliation. Whenever Rhysand or any member of his Inner Circle goes to Hewn City, they rule with fear and violence. They torture its citizens to maintain control, creating an atmosphere of terror and submission. Amren’s frequent threats of violence, Rhysand’s brutal handling of Keir, and the constant threat of punishment create a horrific environment where the people are literally afraid to step out of line. They’re not ruled through justice or fairness—they’re ruled through pain and fear.

Consider Keir, the ruler of Hewn City. No matter how terrible he may be, Rhysand and his circle constantly humiliate and degrade him. Rhysand threatens him, tortures him, and keeps him under control with the constant reminder of his subservience. And Keir’s people? They don’t even get the chance to escape his tyranny because they’re trapped under Rhysand’s own oppressive rule. The same people who suffer under Keir are just as much victims of Rhysand’s cruelty—yet they can never dream of freedom in Velaris. They’re locked in a cycle of abuse with no escape.

4. Velaris as an Elitist, Gated Utopia

Velaris is held up as a shining beacon of peace, safety, and beauty, but it’s only accessible to a privileged few. If you’re not part of Rhysand’s favored circle or from the “right” parts of the Night Court, you’re not welcome. This is more than just geographical exclusion—it’s a form of classist and racist gatekeeping. The Illyrians are not allowed in Velaris. The people of Hewn City are not allowed in Velaris. Only those whom Rhysand deems “worthy” get to enjoy its supposed paradise.

Velaris is a gated utopia, a paradise for the privileged few while the rest of the Night Court lives in squalor and violence. Rhysand preaches about fairness, equality, and peace, yet Velaris exists as a stark symbol of inequality. The people who need refuge the most—the Illyrians and those trapped in the horrors of Hewn City—are denied access to this sanctuary. They’re left to fend for themselves in a brutal, unforgiving world while Rhysand’s inner circle enjoys luxury, wealth, and peace.

5. Rhysand’s Hypocrisy – Selective Morality

At the end of the day, Rhysand’s rule is built on a foundation of selective morality. He plays the role of the benevolent ruler, preaching about justice and equality, but his actions show a deep prejudice against those he deems lesser—whether they’re Illyrians, citizens of Hewn City, or anyone outside his inner circle. He allows Velaris to exist as a utopia for the few, while turning a blind eye to the suffering of the many.

Rhysand’s treatment of the Illyrians and the Hewn City is racist, elitist, and hypocritical. He is no better than the tyrants he claims to oppose. He uses violence and fear to maintain control, enforces classist boundaries to keep the less “desirable” out of Velaris, and perpetuates a system of inequality that traps entire groups of people in cycles of abuse. If you’re not from Velaris, if you’re not part of Rhysand’s chosen few, then you’re nothing.

[fruity-fruition]

Future Wondershow!!

Everything is amazing and ideal because I cannot handle a sad ending between them they're my lifeline

--

Tsukasa and Nene are young skilled up-rising stars in both theatre and film industry who both are rapidly growing at an incredible rate due to their natural charisma, their history of already having a quite successful troupe in high school, mixed with both stubborn hard work and willingness/ideas to do insane shit due to being under Rui's direction for so long.

Rui is also an up-rising director who took the world by storm at how innovative his directing is in a field that's lacking in passion recently. Mixed with everything I've stated for Nene and Tsukasa too.

Emu took over the theme park business kind of. She's sharing with her brother's still, who's showing her the ropes and the actual mechanism of how everything works. Shosuke and Keisuke had fully embraced Emu's bright ideas and cheery attitude now, both thanks to working with WxS for so long and Emu showing them how capable she actually is, despite her optimistic naivety. The park is running to be as successful as ever, now Emu finally has power to make the changes she knows her grandpa would be proud of.

--

Tsukasa, Nene, and Rui often work together on projects which lead their fan community to be merged in a way. It started off divided, with Tsukasa and Nene fans fighting near constantly due to the two coming into the field at the exact same time, but eventually most of the public know that if one is there, the other two won't be that far behind.

--

Tsukasa, Rui, and Nene often get invited to those fancy parties, (they absolutely do not like it. It's too boring. But they go anyway because they need to build connections and stuff apparently) and every time they have the opportunity to invite a plus one, they drag Emu with. None of them stay at the main hall for long, and they'd drag each other outside to either the balcony or garden and just hang around.

This ALWAYS results in them going viral on some sort of social media, with the press never failing to capture a photo of all four of them hanging about and laughing with each other.

--

Their work often brings them apart a lot of times, and even though they still meet weekly in the SEKAI, it's just not the same.

So once every year, they all clear their schedules completely for a full week or more so they could go on a holiday together. It doesn't really matter where. They could stay at home a lounge for the whole week for all they care. But they still do it just to physically be there with each other.

(bonus point if they invite other friends too. Saki, Toya, Mizuki, etc)

--

Again, schedules and overseas work contrast each other a lot of times if they're all working on a project.

But whenever Rui, Tsukasa, and Nene end up home all at once, unplanned, they all collectively decide to just drag Emu to go out with them to their old restaurant that they always go to after a show in high school.

Emu's employees have gotten used to seeing Emu piggyback riding Rui/Tsukasa at full speed leaving the office that they have an entire protocol that Emu and her brothers made for when it happens.

--

Wondershow would do random livestreams together. Either gaming, or baking, or painting each other's nails. They have no specific genre. They just do it for fun.

Nene would still do singular gaming livestreams still, because it's one of her passions.

--

I have more but the rest is kinda shippy and I wanted to keep this PURELY Wondershow friendship because I love Wondershow friendship so much guys they're everything I hate them

(you can so clearly tell that English isn't my native language in this post. Wow. I'm so sorry I hope it's coherent enough)

[sh4wty18]

Hello, I hope you're doing okay! 💙

Can you maybe write a story about Johnnie where things haven't been working out very well between him and the reader recently, they fight over small things all the time but Johnnie refuses to talk about it, and the others (Jake, Tara, ...) seem to notice and they get to the point where the reader has to confront him and they make up?

ooh i love this idea so much!!

fight.

pairing: johnnie guilbert x reader

summary: same as request

cw: angst, language

word count: 1.6k + edited

a/n: this is just a friendly reminder that nothing i write is accurate to johnnie's personality irl. this is all FICTION and purely for fun. i'm not saying he would say or do anything that happens in this fic, it's literally all a made up story.

---

As soon as you enter the house, you can hear Johnnie, Jake, and Carrington laughing from the kitchen, failing miserably to bake boxed desserts. Johnnie had invited you over to hang out today, and it’s been a while since you’d had a proper date or alone time. Why was he now filming a video at the exact time he’d told you to come over? Weird, you think, maybe he forgot. It wouldn’t be the first time he forgot about you. For the last few weeks, Johnnie’s been… off. He starts arguments for no reason, and you’re constantly fighting over little things that normally wouldn’t have caused either of you to bat an eye. Whenever you try to talk about it with him, he either ignores you or acts uninterested. You have no clue why he’s being so argumentative. You’ve been dating for over a year and before this month, you’d hardly ever argued, let alone get into yelling matches like you have recently.  

As you make your way to the kitchen, you decide that you’re going to try and make today a good day. You stop upon arriving at the kitchen, and wait for Johnnie to see you. He finally looks away from the disgusting sludge Jake is calling “cookie dough”, and makes eye contact with you from across the room. You smile and give him a little wave, but he only gives you a slight nod in return.

“Y/n come try Johnnie’s brownies. He made them just for youuuuu!” Carrington shouts, dragging out the “you” in a sing-songy voice. 

You laugh and make your way behind the camera. Johnnie hands you a fork, and you dip it into the half-raw brownie batter. You slowly raise the fork to your lips, building suspense.

“Really dragging this out, aren’t you?” Johnnie says, and you turn to give him a look. He forces a laugh, playing off his attitude for the camera, but you know he was being serious.

You shove the brownie into your mouth, nearly immediately gagging. “Jesus, Johnnie this is vile!” You laugh, taking a jab at him. If he was going to be an asshole after inviting you over, so would you. Two can play that game. 

“Well I never said they were gonna be good did I?” Johnnie asks, leaning on the counter. “Did I?” He asks again when you don’t answer.

“No, but considering you’re following a box recipe, I expected them to be at least edible!” You tease, and Jake and Carrington laugh. Johnnie stays silent, glaring at the floor.

“Can you just wait for me in my room? We’re trying to film here and you’re being annoying,” Johnnie stares at you, and the guise of a joke is gone. You look at him, jaw hanging open in shock that he would say that to you in front of Jake and Carrington. 

“Woah, bro, she’s just joking, don’t be a dick,” Jake says, still laughing. 

“Well it’s not funny. Carrington, I don’t even know why you told her to come over here. This was supposed to be our video.” Johnnie complains right in front of you.

“Dude, she’s your girlfriend… excuse me for thinking you’d want her to be included!” Carrington responds sarcastically. 

Johnnie scoffs, “Right… Now I’m the bad guy.” 

You feel your ears getting hot as anger floods through your body. You needed to leave before you said something you'd regret. “You know what? I don’t wanna be in your stupid fucking video. Cut that clip out for all I care. You’re the one who invited me over today but clearly bullshitting with your friends for a video is more important than me! I’ll be upstairs when you wanna act like a normal fucking person.”

Johnnie winces, clearly regretting how he acted, “Y/n wait-”

“No. I’m done.” You turn to walk away, but before you do you see Jake and Carrington look at each other, and then you. This wasn’t the first time they’d noticed you and Johnnie arguing. You knew they heard you yelling at each other late at night in recent weeks, you knew they’d watched you slam his bedroom door and leave their house with tears in your eyes. Which made this situation all the more embarrassing. 

As you run up the steps, you hear them talking from the kitchen, and you stop for a second to eavesdrop. You know it’s wrong, but you were hoping to gain some insight into why Johnnie has been acting like this. 

“Dude what the fuck is up with you?” Jake asks, and he genuinely sounds angry, “Y/n has always been an awesome girlfriend to you, and you’ve been being a total fucking asshole to her for like… the past month!”

“Yeah, no offense dude, but it’s getting old,” Carrington chimes in.

“I know…I–” Johnnie starts, but Jake cuts him off.

“Don’t tell me, dude. Tell her. You need to like, get your act together. Keep pushing her away and one day she’s not gonna come back.” 

Johnnie doesn’t respond and you shuffle up the steps, making your way into his room and sprawling out on his bed, pretending to check your phone. He enters his room, softly closing the door and locking it behind him, offering you two some privacy.

You sit up and move to the edge of his bed, and he sits down next to you. For the first time since knowing him, the silence between you is awkward. 

“I know you were listening on the steps,” He says quietly, the corners of his mouth upturning. 

You turn away, embarrassed, “How?” 

“You’re not as quiet as you think,” He says, reaching for your hand, but you pull away.

“Do you wanna break up with me or something? Did I do something wrong?” You ask, and tears begin welling in your eyes, “I just… I wanna understand what I did to make you so angry with me.”

His eyes widen, and he starts reaching out to hold your cheek, but thinks better of it and rests his hand on his lap again. “Y/n, no. I would never, ever want to break up with you. You’re… the best thing to ever happen to me.” 

“Then why have you been treating me like shit for the past month? I’m not your punching bag, Johnnie. If something’s wrong, we need to communicate. And I’ve been trying, but every time I’ve brought it up, you’ve ignored it.” 

“I know!” He shouts, and you wince. He pauses for a beat to calm himself, taking a deep breath in before continuing. “Y/n, I know. It’s just… it’s really hard for me to admit when there’s a problem… or when I’m the problem, I guess? I don’t know how to put it into words.” 

You reach out and grab his hand now, “Try. I just want to fix this, Johnnie. I love you.” 

He looks at you and a weak smile forms on his face, “I… I’ve just been feeling really bad recently? Like nothing I do is good enough for anyone. Like I’m not good enough for anyone. Like I’m not good enough to deserve this– any of it. The fame, the money, my friends… you. I kinda convinced myself you would find someone better eventually and leave, so I was, like, trying to drive you away? I guess I thought if I could control when you left, I’d feel better about it. Like… at least I’d know it was my fault for being an asshole, and not just because I wasn’t enough for you. Saying that out loud literally sounds insane, and I know. Trust me, I know how fucked up this all is. I’m just… I’m always afraid of people I love leaving me, and once I start overthinking about a situation, it’s hard for me to stop. I never, ever wanted to hurt you. And I know my anxiety isn’t an excuse to be a dick to you. I understand if you want to break up with me–”

“Johnnie stop. I don’t want to break up with you. Yeah, you fucked up, but I want to work through it. I want to be with you. Everyday I choose to be with you because I love you. If I didn’t love you, if I didn’t think you were the most perfect person for me, then I wouldn’t be with you. But trust me, I’m not going anywhere.” He turns away, and you use your free hand to guide his face back toward you. “Hey, look at me.” 

He gazes at you softly, a look that makes you melt every time he does it, “You are the most deserving person of this life. You work your ass off, and people are assholes to you on the internet all the time, and you put up with all of it. Your friends love you, Johnnie. I know that because we were friends before you were my boyfriend, and even then, I loved you. It’s kind of hard not to love you, actually. You are one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, which is why all this random fighting hurt me so bad.” 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Tears well in his eyes, “I’m so, so sorry.”

You pull him into a tight embrace, pressing his head into your chest, “Thank you, Johnnie,” You breathe out as you run your hand through his hair. “Shhh… it’s okay. I just… I need you to promise me that you won’t drive me away again. Promise me you’ll talk to me if you’re ever overthinking like that again. Can you do that for me, baby? Because… I can’t keep doing this. It’s not good for us.”

He sniffles and looks up at you, “Yes, I promise.” 

You smile softly, and pull his face in to kiss him, “Good.” 

---

idk how to feel about this, lmk what you guys think! i hope you all enjoyed :)

[syrupgirl]

woah??? ur writing is legit so good??? may i please request a neteyam x human reader where the reader gets bullied a lot for being human and it’s just angsty fluff??? no rush at all, write if you want to!!

a/n: I feel so bad it took me so long to get to this💔tysm for ur compliments, darling. I hope you like it

i also wanna mention that none of this fic is not meant to hate on Neytiri in any way :’) personally i think she in completely justified in her feelings and hesitancies towards any and all humans. Reader is probably bummed out more bc they hold Neytiri in high regard and wanna be liked by her.

Transcend -Neteyam

The relationship you had with Neteyam made up part of who you were. Before your memory could serve you, nothing could seperate you from the eldest Sully child.

So close to the other that you felt like an extension of the other. You had your own notch that measured your height right next to his, you were there when he chose his Ilu, you were there when he completed his dream hunt, all of it. You had been by his side for all of it and the two of you wouldn’t have it either way.

But, no matter what, what you had with Neteyam would not change the relationships you had with other children for one specific reason, you were human. Of the same people who killed hundred upon thousands of Na’vi. No amount of friendship would change that.

And to some degree you had come to terms with that. You couldn’t change what you were so you focused on fighting for what you knew was right on the side of the people who taught you that in the first place.

You had come to terms with it, but there were days when those hushed words got to you.

Your morning had started off early, Neteyam shaking you awake shortly after eclipse had ended and snuck you out of the mountains, down into the ground. The two of you spent the morning running through shallow brooks and swinging off the highest branches of the trees. It made you feel like you were a child again, where you had done the exact same thing with the same boy until laughter left you breathless.

Now, you were back in the heart of the Hallelujah Mountains, each hauling your hunt in your shoulders.

“They’re back! They’re back!” You heard a little voice shout. Tuktirey.

Oh, how you loved that girl, you just wished you could wrap her up and carry her around with you always. Just days after her birth, you were obsessed with the baby; constantly asking Neytiri to hold her and look after her, taking her with you while you trekked with Neteyam through the forest floor.

The energy you poured over her was very much reciprocated, as Tuktuk loved you just as dearly. As soon as she learned to walk, she spent the days with you around toddling around after you and oh, it was just the sweetest thing.

“Little Tuktirey! Singing my praises as usual?”

The young one giggled in response and skipped over to you, her tail swishing behind her.

“No love for your brother, Tuk? You wound me!” Neteyam whined behind you. You laughed heartily when Tuktirey promptly ignored her big brother.

“What did you get today? Anything fancy?” She asked eagerly as she stood on her tiptoes, trying to peak at the carcass hauled.

With a huff, you and Neteyam dropped the bodies to the ground to be prepared.

“Nothing to fancy this time, sorry, Tuktuk.”

She pouted and wrapped her arms around your waist, smushing her face into your chest. You laughed again, placed your hands into her hair, and pinched her ears gently.

Tuk squealed and immediately ran away from you, probably to her other siblings. Probably Kiri.

“That is not fair, I’m her brother by blood, and she prefers you over me!” You rolled your eyes at Neteyam’s drama.

“Maybe if you were as cool as me, Neteyam, your sister would actually like you!” You sighed, putting on a fake high and mighty attitude.

“Hey- I am plenty cool!”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, skxáwng.”

“By Eywa, why do I even keep you around at this point.”

You doubled over in laughter as Neteyam began to walk away, probably to alert his parents of his return.

Sighing contentedly, you wiped your eyes that had filled with happy tears from you uncontrollable giggles and unsheathed your knife to begin the processing of the meat.

“Can you teach me?” A little voice piped up beside you. Slightly startled, you glanced down and saw little Tuk had returned to your side, a hungry gleam in her eyes, a hunger to learn.

You tapped your chin in fake thought and scrunched up your face. “I don’t know…It might be a bit hard for you…”

“It won’t be hard! I’ve seen Lo’ak and Kiri do it heaps!” She sprung up and down on her toes. “Please? I’ll do whatever you say!”

“Okay, but you have to pay attention to everything I do, clear?”

“Yep!”

-

“-and then once you have wrapped the meat, you always make sure to return all the parts you won’t use back into Eywa.”

You were surprised Tuk has stuck around this long, listening to everything you had said with rabid attention just like she said she would.

It seemed like she was having a great time; trying her hardest to copy your actions to a T and not getting discouraged when they came out a little sloppy. She had been honest when she said she wanted to learn and you had this strange sense of pride that swelled in your chest.

“Tuk, where have you been?” The voice of Neytiri cut through your thoughts and you turned around to that direction.

Stalking towards you was a very frustrated looking Neytiri and you felt a lump of nerves settle in your chest.

The woman stopped behind her daughter and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked defensive, like she was ready to fight or flee at a moment notice.

Neytiri didn’t even have to say any words, she just looked you up and down with widened eyes and puffs of air coming from her nose.

“Mama! Yn was showing me how to prepare the meat to be cooked and the…the skin to be…something-ed…” Oh dear, sweet Tuk. She was completely oblivious to the tension heavy stares that were being charged above her head and you wanted it to stay that way.

“Neytiri I apologise, I should have come to ask you first.“ You started and looked to your feet. Hoping that would show her that you didn’t want any trouble.

“You should have. You do not make decisions for my daughter.” She whispered before she gently took Tuk by the hand and walked away, supposedly back to their marui.

You felt a hot flush crawl up from your toes and all the way up to your face.

How embarrassed you felt in that moment. The last thing you had ever wanted to do was to overstep the boundaries made clear by Neytiri when it came to her children. You had no problems with them and understood why she had made them in the first place, but it didn’t make you feel any bit better about yourself when she reminded you that they were there and made to seperate you from her family.

A bit dazed, you crouched down next to one of the hides and hoisted it over your shoulder.

“Did you leave any for me?” Neteyam asked.

You jumped in fright, well you would have if you weren’t carrying such a heavy load in your shoulders.

Turning to him, you tried to release any tension you held in your face.

“I was going to, but Tuktuk wanted to learn so I used yours for that. Sorry.”

He smiled and bent down to pick up the reaming hide and came to stand next to you.

“That’s okay. It will stop her from pestering me to do it for her.”

You laughed a bit at that and the two of you started walking in the direction of the tanning tent.

“I saw that my mother spoke to you, what’d she say?” So he had seen that.

“She just came to get Tuk. Time escaped me, I didn’t realise how long it had been.” You reassured him. He hummed in response, believing your white lie.

Silence sat between you and Neteyam was the first to break it, “Do you think I will be able to convince Ni’awxtu to let me keep a whole skin?”

-

A refreshing shiver ran up your spine as you dropped your feet into the water, kicking them back and forth. The sun beamed though the foliage above, filtering into a bright green light.

Neteyam said he would be back in a minute, just going off to grab…something. Gosh, things just fell out of your head sometimes.

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. If you concentrated hard enough, you could pretend that your face wasn’t shielded behind mask, that your exopack wasn’t weighing heavily on your back, that you could breath the Pandora air, fresh and unfiltered. Your brows furrow, and you try to bring yourself back to that peaceful place you were before. It always loomed in the back of your head.

It truly is a strange feeling to be brought up in a culture but still have such a clear divide. That divide isn’t a bad thing, but a thing nonetheless.

So caught up in your thoughts, you don’t hear the creeping of feet behind you, the squishing of leaves and breaking of branches.

You were suddenly, literally, yanked out of your own head and a hand reaches into your hair and pulls you back. Hard.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I hurt your precious little head? Can you still breath?” The words are far from genuine, delivered with an airy laugh to it. Clutching the back of your head, you turned around and looked up.

Behind you stood a few kids your age. Their faces were familiar but their names eluded you.

You steeled yourself. You weren’t afraid of these people. “What do you want from me?”

One of them snorts and hits his mate on the chest, encouraging her to laugh with him. She does and they share a snide chuckle. You narrowed your eyes at them and stood, still not matching their height but getting closer to it at least.

“Where is your guard, huh?” The girl asks as she stalks around you. She occasionally flicked and pulled at pieces of your clothing, including your exopack, which made your heart beat pick up more and more every time she brushed it.

“He is not my guard, I can protect myself.” You muttered.

“Even when you are so dependent on…this?”

In seconds, you felt your heart plummet to your toes.

Your exopack was suddenly ripped from your back and your mask along with it. On instinct you held the breath that was still left in your lungs, your shaking hands flew to your face. It was almost like you could feel as the blood drained from your cheeks and formed a tight ball of terror in your chest, heavy and terrifying.

The young na’vi laughed, guffawed really. As if you imminent suffocation was endlessly hilarious to them. The girl held your exopack in her hand. In her hands it looked worse for wear.

She gripped her stomach. “Not so high and mighty now?” She gasped between laughs.

“You can’t be that strong if you are so dependent on that machine to keep you alive, can you?” The boy laughed along with his friend.

Their words didn’t even make it to your brain. You entire focus was on the mask dangling uselessly in her hands. You looked up, locked eyes with the girl, and took a few steps forward.

Faster than you could blink, their laughter ceased and was replaced with their smirks again.

“Ah, ah, ah! You stay right there.” The girl tutted. “Or you won’t be getting this back anytime soon.”

Your eyes widened and your gestured to your chest and mouth. This ‘prank’ had gone too far and if you didn’t get that pack back fast- the thought just about bright tears to your eyes.

Ignoring their orders, you frantically rushed forward again and took a swing for the pack. You could feel the need to gasp for air rise; your time was running out.

“You stay in your place, tawtute” The boy snarled. He ducked behind you and looped his arms through the back of your elbows, holding you tight to his body.

You thrashed hard in his hold and clawed at any patch of skin you could reach but it was no use. He towered over you and easily trumped you in strength. At this point, you had as much hope as you did air in your lungs.

You could feel your chest burn and your heart pound. If you gave in and took a breath of the pandoran air, it would only end things faster.

By Eywa, this was such a pathetic way to die.

“Poor thing, do you want this back? Should I just give it to you?”

There was no point in answering, you just tried to plead as best as you could without words.

“Just breathe, man! C’mon just a little breath.” The boy behind you taunted.

They laughed and laughed and laughed. It bled into your ears.

Resigned to your fate, you stopped thrashing, closed your eyes, and let out the breath you had desperately been holding. And inhaled.

You probably looked like a fish out of water, gaping and gasping for a breath that wouldn’t come. The painful throb began in your temples racked up tenfold and the burning pain in your chest felt like an inferno. The teens behind you laughed and hollered and finally realised their grip on you.

Faintly, in the back of your mind, you heard the crack of your exopack hitting a rock nearby. Though, through your puffs and wheezes you could barely hair it anyway.

Your eyes fluttered and your jaw slackened. When did their jeers become so far away? And…had eclipse begun already? Delirious wonderings filled your head as your eyes rolled back into your head.

-

The first thing that returned to you was your hearing, and the first thing you heard was…begging? Albeit it was punctuated by a dreadful ringing.

It was like a whisper at first, almost like you had been plunged underwater. And whoever was on the surface was desperate to bring you back up again.

A hand slid behind your neck and lifted it slightly, slipping a strap over head. Something was pressed to your face and suddenly breathing came much easier.

As you came to you started gulping down the air and your eyes flitted open. Ah, so that was the source of the whisper-screams. You had completely forgotten about him. About Neteyam.

“-n? Yn?!” Since when were his hands on your face?

You had been rested on your back, head propped up against something hard and uncomfortable, and another exopack sat secured on your face. Confused, you brought a hand up and tapped the mask in question, not trusting your vocal chords.

Neteyam, however, looked far too frazzled to answer your questions plainly. He was sat beside you, knees in-line with your chest and his upper half leaning over you. The size difference between the two of you was apparent constantly but having him towered over you like this made you feel especially small.

“W-when I came back I couldn’t see you anywhere but then I saw your exopack on the ground,” He rambled. Concern creased his face and oh, how you wanted to smooth every wrinkle.

His rambles continued, “I ran into Norm on the w-way back and he said you forgot to grab your spare. So I grabbed it and you’re lucky I did!” You frowned; aren’t people supposed to be nice to you when you’ve hurt yourself? Why were you being scolded?

Neteyam must have noticed your pouty expressions because berating came to a halt.

“I was so worried about you…” His hand stroked your head and he frowned even harder. “What happened?”

As you recounted your story, you felt as tears welled up in your eyes once more. A dark shade settled in Neteyam’s eyes, his frown turned into a scowl.

You’re eased up against a stump of a tree and the boy takes your hand in both of hit firmly.

He looked into your eyes with a determination lit up in his.

“Yn, I swear to you that I will find who did this. They won’t go without punishment. I’ll have my dad see to it if I have to.” His fingers squeezed yours and your lips quirked despite yourself.

“I knew you would come and find me. Deep down, I knew you would.”

The resolute gleam in his eyes softened before he said, “I will always find you. No matter where you are, I will always get you back to me”.

a/n: I rushed the ending a lil but I just reallyyyy wanted this done 😍

The energy you poured over her was very much reciprocated, as Tuktuk loved you just as dearly

When she learned to walk, she spent the days with you around toddling around after you and oh, it was just the cutest thing.

“Little Tuktirey! Singing my praises as usual?”

The young one giggled in response and skipped over to you, her tail swishing behind her.

[sentientgolfball]

can u pls do ummmm um dew/reader/rain :3 mayb a little jealousy smth smth ....... and like ummmm mayb things get a little wild or smth like idk ! hope this helps thank u champion <3

Next time you want me to write smut ask me out loud instead of sauntering into my ask box as an anon (jk ily but if you don't give me more substance next time i'll beat u <3)

Anyways possessive Rain is the best and you cannot boo me cause I'm right

MDNI 18+ my requests are open !

“And what’s this lovely Sibling doing all alone?” 

“Working, Dew. Ever heard of it?” 

You grabbed another crate of books and moved between the rows of shelves hoping to put some distance between you and the fire ghoul. You pushed the row on the shelf in front of you to make room for the newest editions and sighed when you were met with Dew’s smug little face peeking back at you. 

“What a shame. I was looking for someone to play with and all that came to mind was you.” 

“How romantic.” 

You rolled your eyes and shoved the stack in your hand into place obscuring his face. You felt a small smile creep onto your face hearing the softest little whine from him, but it quickly fell when he rounded the corner. You crossed your arms as he closed the distance between you two. He was so close you could feel the heat that seemed to always be rolling off of him. 

“Come on, all work and no play makes you a bad Sibling.” He trails a claw up your forearm. You have to fight the shudder you can feel pricking just under your skin. You’d be damned if you gave him the reaction he wanted. 

You look at him with your best bored expression “If you want to fuck someone so bad I’m sure Phantom would be delighted to have you.” 

You watched his eyes start to glow with the mention of the quintessence ghoul’s name. You felt a little proud of yourself for knowing just how to get under Dew’s skin. He stepped back from you with a dramatic sigh, throwing his head back. 

“You really are no fun. Explains why Rainy took such a liking to you.” 

That little fucker. 

You don’t get the chance to reply before he walks past you towards the main doors of the library. You tense feeling the spade of his tail brush the side of your thigh. You swear you hear a snicker before you’re completely alone again. You groan and lean against the shelf you were working on when you hear the heavy doors open and then close. For the past few weeks, you have been having encounter after encounter with Dew that pretty much follows the exact same formula. He annoys you, asks you to fuck, and then leaves when you say no, but not before he gets some type of reaction out of you. It’s a game to him and despite constantly turning him down you couldn’t help but feel like you were the one losing. You had no idea what you did to gain the little fire ghoul’s attention, but you did know he was starting to draw you in. You hated yourself for even thinking that, but there was no denying it.  

Actually, scratch that. 

You knew exactly what you did to get his attention. It’s because you had gotten Rain’s attention. The water ghoul tends to spend a lot of his free time split between the lake and the library. A few months ago he had begun to appear during the shifts you worked. He didn’t do anything out of the ordinary, just sat in his usual spot and flipped through whatever he was currently reading. That didn’t stop you from staring, though. You had always thought he was a sight to behold, the way his blue-grey skin rippled like a pool when the sunlight hit him just right or how his fangs would poke out from under his lip when he was wholly absorbed in his story. You were enamored by him. All your feelings came to a head one day when he caught you throwing glances in his direction. He came over to you and you were sure he was going to call you out or tell you off, but all he did was introduce himself and ask if you wanted to know what he was reading. 

From that point on, you and Rain had started to hang around each other more often. At first, it was innocent enough. Simply gushing to each other about the latest books you’ve read or sharing the gossip heard around the Ministry, but then hands started to wander. He’d give these little touches that would make your stomach flip and skin feel electric. He’d say these little things that made you overanalyze every conversation later that night in the shower. You’d squirm and he’d go on like nothing was happening, as if he didn’t know exactly what effect he had on you. It all tipped over the edge one night when he pulled you into an alcove after midnight mass panting about just how badly he needed you. The thought was quickly interrupted by a pair of ember-like eyes burning holes into your soul. 

 That was about the time Dew started to pop into your life. That was also the last time Rain tried for secrecy. Ever since then, he had been very outward about his affection, about his fondness for you. He even began taking to staying in your room a few nights out of the week. Your life soon became overrun with the near-constant presence of two ghouls. At first, it was almost like a dream come true, but now it was just your personal nightmare. As Rain got more possessive Dew got more insistent. It was getting to be a bit overwhelming if you were being honest. 

Maybe I’ll talk to Rain about it…oh fuck Rain!

You checked the time on the grandfather clock that sat near the fireplace in the library and cringed when you heard the bells chime before you even finished reading the face. You were late. It was supposed to be one of your little date nights, something he insisted on doing recently, but you completely missed the meeting time. You hadn’t realized just how long you’ve been unpacking all the new books that were ordered. You groaned and moved the half-empty crate behind the front desk deciding it’ll be easier to just deal with the rest tomorrow. You left the library in a hurry to get back to your room. You’d be quick. You would just change out of your uniform and sprint to the lake no problem at all. 

You paused when you were outside of your door. You leaned in closer and furrowed your brow in confusion. Either you were crazy or someone was in your shower. You carefully opened the door and crept in. You immediately sighed in relief when you saw Rain’s clothes draped over the chair at your desk. Of course he wouldn’t go to the lake without you first. You flopped onto the bed after changing out of your habit, idly scrolling your phone waiting for him to finish. You didn’t dare open any of the messages from Dew. The sound of the shower turning off made your head pop up. It wasn’t long before the door opened with a puff of steam and Rain walking out with nothing on but his sweatpants and a towel around his neck. He didn’t look surprised to see you sitting there in the slightest. 

“Did you use all the hot water?” 

“You could’ve joined me.” He shrugged with a smile before sitting down next to you, pulling you to his side. 

“I take it we’re not going to the lake anymore?” 

“Nah it’s too cold for that now.” 

“I’m sorry I got caught up at work and–”

“Don’t be sorry sweet thing. We still have the rest of the night together.” 

“But–” 

You were cut off by him leaning down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, planting a light kiss there. You tensed when you felt him pull away and sit up. His expression was unreadable.

“You smell like Dew.” 

Here we go.

“Yeah he came to visit me at work…like always.” 

“What did he want?”

“Oh, the usual. Asking me to fuck him and then making fun of you.”

He looked at you expecting you to continue. It wasn’t hard to tell you had something else on your mind. You played with his fingers as you spoke the next part. 

“Rain what is going on with you two? He hasn’t left me alone since you started spending more time with me.” 

Rain rolled his eyes “That’s just how he is. He has to have everything I have. He wants everything I want.” 

“So it really is just a game to him?” 

“More or less, why do you ask?” 

You couldn’t explain it. The quick sinking feeling you got when Rain said this. Of course, you had always had that thought in your mind that Dew was just toying with you, but having it confirmed by the one who knew the fire ghoul better than anyone else made you feel strange. You shook your head trying to shrug it off, but Rain didn’t let it go. He turned fully towards you, putting a hand over yours. 

“You wanted it to be more than a game, didn’t you?” 

You floundered for a response, not entirely sure how to answer that. He laughed and it sends a shiver down your spine. You meet his gaze and you see something dark, almost predatory there. 

“I hate to burst your bubble, but he’s not going anywhere near you” he leaned in close and dragged his fangs over your pulse point “I’ll make sure of that.” 

~~~

Everything only got worse from there. Rain now spent all of his free time in the library pretending to read while he watched you work. Any time Dew showed up you could hear the low growl from across the room. This only spurred Dew on. He would talk to you louder than necessary while making eye contact with Rain the entire time. You were mortified the day he commented on the fresh bruises and bite marks that peaked above the collar of your uniform. You were entirely prepared to see Rain attempt to kill him. That day didn’t come for a while, though. 

It all happened so quickly. Dew has been uncharacteristically quiet all day. Simply watching you and occasionally actually helping you. Rain had been on the same page for ten minutes. And then it happened. You almost fell carrying the last of the massive crates of books and Dew was right there. He caught you just before you face-planted into the nearest shelf, holding you closer than needed asking if you were alright in a low voice. You didn’t get the chance to answer before you heard a chair scraping against the floor and Dew was yanked off of you. You watched Rain drag Dew out of the library by the back of his neck, tail lashing as he went. 

That was the last you saw of both of them for the next 24 hours. The only thing that stopped you from believing Dew was dead at the bottom of the lake was that no new announcement regarding ghoul summonings was made. Your last straw was when you went to the feast hall and the ghoul table was noticeably empty. You decided that you were going to march down to the ghoul den, find Rain and Dew, and demand an explanation. But that was easier said than done. 

You found yourself standing outside of the den. You had been standing for about ten minutes now. All your confidence drained the moment you saw the ornate doors with various claw marks on them. You were about ready to say fuck it and turn around when you heard shouting. The voices very clearly belonged to Dew and Rain. Well, you assumed it was Rain because all you could hear was the angry snarls of the fire ghoul. You pressed closer to the door to make out what they were saying.

“I don’t understand why you’re so pissy about this! It’s not like this is the first time we’ve shared a Sibling!” 

“Oh please. Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing. Sharing. The great Dewdrop doesn’t share. He takes what he wants without considering for a moment anyone or anything but himself.” 

“Aww you think I’m great.” 

You jump back when you hear the sound of feet stomping closer to the door. 

“Yeah Yeah go run and hide at the bottom of the lake. Maybe I’ll visit your sweet thing while you’re moping.” 

The door flies open and you stare dead ahead at Rain’s chest, too scared to meet his gaze. You can feel him staring down at you. Your face flushes when you hear Dew cackle. 

“Or maybe they’ll visit me.” 

Rain hisses and there’s a moment of silence before his hand brushes your cheek. It trails down under your jaw as he tilts your head up to look at him. You feel your stomach drop to the floor when you’re met with that blank face that’s impossible to read. Just over his shoulder, you can see Dew staring at you with his head slightly tilted and a grin plastered on his face. Rain’s voice pulls your attention back to him. 

“What are you doing here?” he says softly, genuinely.

“I…came to find you and Dew. I was worried when you both disappeared after what happened in the library.” 

“Aww did you hear that Rainy? They were worried about me.” 

Rain’s eyes narrow as he removes his hand from your face and grabs your wrist. He begins to leave the den and you have to dig your heel in to not be dragged along with him. When he feels the resistance he stops to turn and look at you confusion written all over his features. 

“No” You’re feeling a lot bolder than you were five minutes ago “No. That’s not all. I have no idea what’s going on between you two but you need to kiss and make up. I’m tired of being dragged into the middle of this.” 

“What’s going on is Dew cannot fathom the idea that I have interests that aren’t him.” 

“I think what you mean to say is ‘I’m a possessive bitch who can’t stand it when the great Dewdrop looks at anything that’s not me’.” 

Dew’s words and the glare from Rain make you have a sudden realization. This was never Dew’s game. It was Rain’s.  You think back to all the encounters you had with Rain before the day he pulled you into that alcove and realize Dew had always been there. You now understand why he became a presence in your life after that moment. At this point though, you couldn’t care less about which ghoul wanted who or what. You were tired of their petty little pissing contest. 

“Okay,” You rub the bridge of your nose “What’s it going to take to get you two off my ass and to treat each other like friends again?” 

“You really don’t have to do anything. It’ll cool over like it always does.”

“Rain I am sick and tired of being in the middle of this.” 

“You know, I have an idea. But I don’t think Rainy will be too thrilled about it.” 

Rain growls at him and you too have an understanding of what that idea is. 

“Lord’s below Rain if all it takes is letting Dew get his dick wet then what's the problem.”

“The problem is he can’t stand when it’s anyone else but him.”

“Can it Dewdrop,” you turn to look at Rain who looks ready to break something but the slight blush on his face betrays his thoughts “Would it help if you were there?” 

“Ooo we picked a freaky one! Come on wet boy they’re literally asking for it.” 

Rain sighs “You really wanna do this?”

“If it’ll get things back to normal then yes. Very much so.” 

You did not realize how fast it would all move when you said those little words. The doors to the ghoul den were slammed shut as Rain stalked close to you with that hunter’s gaze. You were suddenly very aware of how easily it would’ve been for Rain to just get rid of you if he really didn’t want Dew around you. You start to back away from him but you end up bumping into Dew’s chest. You feel his hands wrap around your middle and his breath against your ear.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Rainy’s always liked the chase. Why do you think it took him so long to fuck you? It wasn’t just because of me.” 

You yelp feeling yourself be quickly lifted off the ground by the little ghoul. He taunts Rain the whole way to his bedroom. You briefly wonder how many times this exact situation has happened when you see the look on Rain’s face. You don’t have much time to consider it before you’re being thrown rather unceremoniously onto a bed. You barely have enough time to blink before Dew is sitting between your legs. 

“Alright dear Sibling, last chance. If you wanna leave just say the words and that’ll be it.” 

You feel the mattress dip as Rain sits against the headboard. You look up at Dew and see his burning gaze and you come to find you want this a lot more than you previously thought. You gave Dew the go-ahead and that was all he needed. He practically pounced on you the moment ‘yes’ left your mouth. He kissed you harshly before nipping your bottom lip with his fangs. You gasped and he used this to slip his forked tongue into your mouth. He licked into you feverishly before making an attempt at shoving his tongue down your throat. His mouth never left yours as his hands traveled from your hips to your neck. He flexed his claws against your skin each time you moaned into his mouth. 

You reach for him, trying to bring him closer to you, but the moment you do he is ripped from you. You whined in confusion as Rain pulled him off of you and onto him. You watched the way Rain pulled his head back by his hair exposing his neck. He squirmed and gasped as Rain kissed and bit at the scars on his neck. Dew reached a hand out and pushed lightly on Rain causing him to stop and gaze at him. 

“Come on Rainy don’t be rude to our guest. I thought you liked your sweet thing?” 

You looked away when Rain’s eyes landed on you. He smoothed a hand over your head, letting it continue down your back and under your shirt. You shudder at his cool touch and finally look up at him. He grins when he has your attention before darting forward and biting hard into Dew’s neck. He gasps and ruts ever so slightly onto Rain’s thigh as the water ghoul laps at the wound before any blood can dribble down. He pulls back and hums in satisfaction at the mark. 

“Now you can play with him.” 

He practically dumps him back on top of you. He doesn’t move from his spot sitting next to you against the headboard as Dew straddles your hips and pulls your shirt off. He latches himself to your neck as he drags the tips of his claws down your body to rest just above your hip bone. You can feel his tail snake into the bottom of your shorts, the tip of the spade creeping closer and closer to your clit. You gasp when it pushes past the fabric of your underwear and slides so slowly through you. He kisses up your neck and jaw as his tail flicks small circles over you. 

You squirm as the spade traces gently over your hole before pushing in. Your moan is immediately swallowed by Rain bringing his lips to yours. He reaches over you and cups one of your breasts in his hand, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You try to concentrate on kissing Rain back but all you can focus on is the feeling of Dew’s tail dragging against your walls. Rain gasps and pulls back from you squeezing your chest harshly. You crack open an eye to Dew’s hand shoved down Rain’s sweats jerking him as he fucks you with his tail. You see something dangerous flash across Rain’s face as his eyes flick from you to Dew. 

He swats the fire ghoul’s hand away and shoots up, grabbing him by the wrists. You yelp as he’s quickly pulled off of you when Rain flips their positions. He pulls Dew’s ass up by the hips and pulls his pants off him. 

“I still think you’re being mean Rainy.” He wiggles his ass back against Rain’s dick. Rain peers over at you before pulling Dew flush against his chest by his hair. 

“Get under him.”

You shift around until you’re laying on your stomach looking up at the two ghouls. 

“Now suck it.” 

You slowly bring your lips to the head of his cock and push the tip into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slit before taking more of him. Dew’s breathy pants turn into moans as the slick sounds of Rain pushing into Dew fill the room. You had no time to prepare before Rain thrusts brutally into Dew causing him to be pushed to the back of your throat. You gag and the fire ghoul whines as your muscles contract around him. His hand shoots to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair guiding you up and down his dick. 

He barely has to move you as Rain keeps up a devastating pace. Dew’s head is thrown back against Rain’s shoulder with his tongue hanging out of his mouth too blissed out from getting fucked from the back and the front. You have to focus on breathing through your nose as every thrust from Rain pushes Dew to the back of your throat. You work your tongue over the vein on the underside of his cock. It’s all you can do feeling the ache in your jaw and your forearms from holding yourself up. 

You hear Rain hiss something in Infernal and it’s the only warning you get before you feel Dew spill hotly down your throat. You fight off a gag at the suddenness of it. 

“You better swallow all of it. Don’t waste a drop of him.” 

You do just as you're told and pull off of him with an obscene pop unable to hold yourself up anymore. It doesn’t take much longer before the sound of skin slapping against skin stutters and Rain grunts biting into Dew’s neck again as he cums deep inside of him. Dew flops forward next to you when Rain pulls out of him. The water ghoul runs his fingers through his hair and wraps his tail loosely around your wrist. Dew reaches over and squeezes your hand before turning his head to look at you. 

Eventually you all roll around until Rain is between both you and Dew, holding you close. You feel yourself drifting off soothed by the sounds of the ghoul’s purrs, that is until you feel Dew squeeze your hand again. You look across to him and get a bad feeling from the glint in his eye. He slowly untangles himself from Rain and crawls over to you. He runs his claws over your thighs. 

“Dew…” you warn, glancing up at Rain who appears to be sound asleep. 

“Oh don’t worry about sleeping beauty. Just focus on me.” 

You slap a hand over your mouth when his hand dips into your shorts. You closed your eyes and send a quick prayer to whoever was listening that Rain wouldn’t wake up to Dew doing his absolute best to pull you closer to your own edge. 

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Your opinion in these takes about Katara? They're quite long, so don't read if you don't want.

https://www.tumblr.com/zuko-always-lies/743452389757075456/zuko-always-lies-innocentimouto-all-right?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/zuko-always-lies/743452734795235328/borra-the-explorer-anonymous-gambito?source=share

Okay, okay, OKAY, I'm really fucking mad right now. This is most bullshit, bad-faith take on Katara I've ever seen, and that's saying a lot considering the nonsense I get sent on a daily basis.

The double-standard is already insane. Zuko doesn't "sort of" bring up his trauma repeatedly in the same way. He did it ALL THE FUCKING TIME, using the exact same WORD that has been memed to death, to the point that Dante Basco just has to say "Honor" at pannels and people start laughing, but Katara can't say "the Fire Nation killed my mom"? Really?

Not to mention Aang is CONSTANTLY beaten over the head with the fact that he IS the last of his race and that he has responsibilities he is not at all prepared for because he is a kid. Or the writers basically grabbing the audience by the shoulders and shaking us while screaming "THIS BOY HAS A SCAR!" each time Zuko is on screen? Katara being treated the same way is not bad writting, it's called "continuity" and "this show is for kids, stuff has to be crystal clear"

For fuck's sake, this person literally has Zuko constantly SAYING he misses Iroh and is ashamed of betraying him as GOOD writing, yet when Katara does the same talking about her mom it becomes an issue of "Show, don't tell"

Aang can be the goofball that wants to play all the time and get excited about riding a water serpent three minutes after seeing Gyatso's body, but Katara not crying every episode after losing her mother's necklace means "she doesn't care"? When we even see Aang make her a new one and then steal back the original one during a fight with Zuko because anyone with half a brain could see it meant a lot to Katara?

And I gotta laugh at the absurdity of acting like Katara consistently connecting with people who lost a parent is not "showing" us her grief (and of acting like her talking about it with Jet and Haru is for THEIR development, not hers, when she's the one that is the main character. And like her connecting with Aang and Zuko over it is bad because... "guys." Literally no explanation except "they're guys." Grief is gendered, apparently).

Like her literally seeing her mother's "ghost" in The Swamp wasn't "showing." Like her ALWAYS having her mother's necklace on her when she's able to isn't the series SHOWING us that she carries that grief with her all the time - again, much like the focus on Zuko's scar to remind us that his father's abuse has literally been burned into his flesh or Aang not wanting to cover his arrows or panicking whenever he loses his glider or Appa because they're all that's left of his culture.

Also: since when is her mother's death the ONLY trauma Katara has and is explored in the show?

She spends half a season struggling with waterbending because, thanks to the war, she has no one to teach her, and that "cultural trauma" so to speak is explored again when she's excited to meet Hama since they're from the same tribe or happy to be reunited with Bato.

During plenty of book 1 and 2 episodes we are shown how Katara misses her dad just as much as Sokka does - yet when she's reunited with Hakoda, the show lets her be mad at him for not being around, even if he had good reason.

And how about her clear anxiety over potentially losing Aang (the symbol of hope) or seeing him in pain and how it manifests over and over through the show, with her opposing him trying to intentionally trigger the Avatar state, not liking it when he drifts away from her, or, ya know, WATCHING HIM DIE BEFORE HER EYES AND THEN THREATENING TO KILL ZUKO IF HE HURTS AANG EVER AGAIN?

Oh, and as someone who personally deals with grief over losing their mom by CONSTANTLY talking about missing her and cannot relate AT ALL to stuff like Iroh (again, not a main character) being able to not bring up Lu Ten every single day without even realizing he's doing so: not bringing it up is not "more realistic" or "respectful", it's just "different people cope differently", so for the love of Christ try to remember that

YOUR EXPERIENCES ARE NOT UNIVERSAL

...and acting like people "don't get it" because they relate to how Katara's grief was written even though you don't is a real dick move.

Anyways, gonna drink some water because I'm foaming at the mouth like a dog with rabies and that can't be good.

[weepingtalecowboy]

I have already talked about just how unsettlingly gullible Wind was

Fanfic prompt : But somehow I found even worse stuff about wind

A thing that constantly happens is just how utterly powerless Wind is in comparison to the adults in his Hyrule

Tetra could have had killed him ,hurt him or just straight up kidnapped him when he was on the ship with her

It’s not like anyone would disagree with their captain (also the fact that it is still debatable whether tetra is an adult makes her crew mate's crush so much worse)

He is at her mercy

And the only reason why nothing happened was because she was a decent human being (she wasn’t even a good person because she has no problems committing crimes)

Later after the heist failed he gets picked up by the king of red lions

What makes it somehow even worse is the fact that Daphnes was not only aware of Wind not being the chosen hero

But he could have taken anyone else

Like a strong man for example

And he chose a child who was desperate enough to do anything to save his sister

Again Wind was at an adult’s mercy ,he was in a bad position and the king manipulated him into helping him

Daphnes has used a child of all things

Because no adult would have went with him

He was overpowered by the king and had no control over the situation

And the fact that Wind defended the kings of Hyrule is the only time he has spoken against another adult (with it being wild) shows how much of an impact he had on him

What somehow upped the stakes is tingles's brother who had Wind at his mercy and while most things with the other adults went relatively smoothly

He actually forced Wind to commit a crime by releasing his brother from prison

And theoretically he could have continued adding more conditions for wind to buy the sail

Because Wind couldn’t even say no , refuse or even go look somewhere else

That could have ended badly if tingle's brother decided to not hold the bargain

Again Wind was at the mercy of a morally gray adult

Tingle is right next he also was a key part of progressing

And he was scamming Wind by using his position to gain actual control over Wind

He could ask for much much worse things

And Wind would have just have to comply with it

Even the people of windfall island are assholes because Wind has to go to an auction to get important items and if he fails he can just try again later

But the fact that those people don’t take the items and just want to make him spend rupees on it

Theoretically they could keep raising the price and Wind would have to comply

AGAIN ADULTS HAVE ABSOLUTE POWER OVER A SMALL KID

And it doesn’t even end with Wind waker

In phantom hourglass the exact same scenario happens

Linebeck is in control of the ship and wind can’t do anything about it but ask him to follow a route he wrote down

It gets even worse because Linebeck was taking advantage of Wind's position by trying to take the treasure of the Ghost ship and making him fight his ex

Oshu wants Wind to clean up the islands and that is by far the most unbalanced relationship in the entire series because Wind genuinely can’t get tetra back or leave if Oshu doesn’t let him

All he can do is AGAIN hope that an adult keeps his promise and doesn’t scam him

It’s not like he can actually do anything about it if it does happen

He can’t even talk back at the adults like you can always complain in a Zelda game but not in his games

And BEEDLE'S FUCKING COMPLITARY ID in phantom hourglass literally forces Wind to compliment him (like WTF BEEDLE)

Wind has to literally suck it up and tell a degenerate that he looks pretty (like holy SHIT)

Like that is BEYOND CREEPY and the one in Wind waker is literally the opposite which is somehow even worse because a much older man is complimenting a small child who can’t even back out because you can’t skip the cutscene

If We take Hyrule warriors too it just adds another adult who has a sort of power over him (because Captain link is the highest ranking general and wind is not even able to go home if Lana doesn’t make a portal for everyone to leave)

Like Wars isn’t evil but the power between both of them is something that is not fairy distributed

And in linked universe i

the fact that Wind defended the kings of Hyrule is the only time he has spoken against another adult (with it being wild) should be a big warning sign

Because realistically a kid in such a situation would be hesitant to speak against adults because his perception of a relationship with one is beyond messed up

He would be used to such a relationship because of how often it happens

Like that are authority issues in the making

It’s even worse because the entire chain is traveling back and forth between times

And wind has to be close by at all times

Like he probably would not see anything wrong with the dynamic

But the chain probably has to go beat up a king, a scammer, tingles's entire family and definitely beedle

(Like WTF was that complimentary ID stunt)

Because such issues are extremely hard to kick out

Like Windwaker is such a realistic take on the child hero trope that it is disturbing

A child would be so vulnerable and easy to control and manipulate the fact that the toon link series has two games in a whimsical art style with disturbing implications is mind blowing

Like Wind's perception of relationships was groomed by the adults he met (even if it was on accident or not the result most adults wanted their behavior still changed and twisted wind's perception of relationships especially with adults)

[roses-dreams-andthorns]

Idk if this can be considered a request:

Epel, Rook, Jamil and Idia (quite an interesting line of characters) with an s/o that has incredible strength especially in her legs. Her legs are so powerful, one kick is all it takes to knock someone out. The best part? She's the same height as Ortho.

oooh! short but strong legs!

F!Reader (bc she/her pronouns were used in the request, but you/your is used in the writing so anyone can interact)

aaaaaaa Trey has so much stuff going on so sorry if Trey doesnt do your request, I'll be clearing out my drafts and requests after this but REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN! If you really wanted your request done if you requested perviously, you can request it again if you'd like! terribly sorry!

Epel

He had never expected that'd you'd be so strong with your legs, considering your height. Your height is similar to his, and he's a little powerhouse himself, so you're the perfect duo. You two do really well in fights, no matter how much people you're against, you're always on top.

When he had first witnessed your strength, it was when you had kicked a guy right in the face, and knocked him out instantly just from the one kick. He was fascinated! If you can do it in heels as well, he'll be very confused on how you keep your balance. You had kicked a guy in the downstairs once as well... long story short, that guy suffered that pain for about a month.

"Reader! Can you help me train to be as strong as you?"

"Hmm... Sure! But be ready for a lot of stretching and excercises!"

Rook

Oh dear... how strong your legs are... he is quite impressed, "impressionnant!"

He first witnessed it through one of his stalking sessions. while spying on you, you had kicked some guy in the face, sending him flying across campus at lightning speeds like he was a baseball and your leg was the bat. He knew it was best not to mess with you, but he still continued his stalking of you, because how could he not? you are just so intresting! You could probably beat his ass and he'd thank you.

(I'm sorry Trey had no ideas for this one...)

Jamil

...yikes... but also holy sevens you're attractive while you're beating someone mercilessly in the face with your legs and feet, he's a mix of scared and in love, constantly teetering between the two emotions as he watches you teach this random guy a lesson more harsh than Vargas' 100 laps everyday in P.E. class after this guy had tried to hit on you despite how many times you said "go away" and pushed the guy, at this point in time he was completely passed out and covered in bruises, and Jamil just stood there all flabberghasted and frightened like it was the most horrifying thing he'd seen since he'd watched that horror movie last week. He's at such a complete loss for words because he's now afraid that if he says one wrong thing, he gets a foot to the face.

Idia

Omg you're like that anime character!!!!!!!!!11!!!!1!!

He fanboys over it so much because you remind him of some anime or game character, he sometimes even asks you to cosplay the character as he holds a cosplay of them in your exact size in his arms hoping you say yes, and he gives you puppy eyes, but other than that, he's kinda scared of you? Not too, too scared but scared in a sense he knows you could possibly kill him with one swing of your leg like it was meant to be a murder weapon. Other than that, he's pretty chill... besides the fact he's shaking in his boots whenever he talks to you because he feels like if he makes one wrong move or says one wrong thing the next moment he'll be passed out on the ground with you looming over his unconcious body menacingly like how a bird looms over its unsuspecting prey before swooping down and snatching it.

[fandomiplier]

bi-han and affection

pairing: character study; no pairing

genre: angst; no comfort

warnings: intergenerational trauma, death

hi there! this was just something i wrote in a hurry because i desperately need more bi-han characterization/character studies. also, yall can snatch autistic!bi-han from my cold, dead hands. hope you enjoy!

bi-han is not a conventionally affectionate person.

as far as he recalls, he never was. bi-han doesn't dwell on childhood memories as much as his brothers do - he doesn't see the usefulness of reminiscing, especially on memories he sees as useless. but, as far as he recalls, he's always been distant, even in the beginning of his training.

(bi-han doesn't have any memory from before he began his lin kuei training; his oldest memory is holding a bo and learning how to use it as a weapon by his tutor. he was 7).

he does not enjoy physical contact. he never enjoyed it, even as a kid - being touched without consent is something bi-han despises with a fiery passion. the cryomancy does not aid in that aspect; the warmth of the touch is bothersome and sometimes painful. but it feels uncomfortable in a different way, almost as if his bones ache inside his body once people touch him without consent or warning. it often leads to an angry discussion or someone leaving with a broken nose. kuai liang tends to deal with the situation for him, especially when the perpetrator is an important figure or of interest to the lin kuei. but sometimes his reaction time gets the best of him - and confrontation is inevitable.

at the same time, bi-han is not verbally affectionate. when necessary, bi-han can lecture his students on fighting techniques, on weaponry, on war strategy and philosophy. he has done it before countless times, each time more eloquently than the last - bi-han is an excellent teacher, even though he lacks patience most times. but when it comes to interpersonal relations, bi-han is a complete disaster. surely, he can converse with other clan leaders, can discuss politics and trade deals, can and has secured alliances with other clans ever since he became grandmaster. he looks smooth - but, in private, bi-han falls flat every single time he has to interact with someone. it feels odd and weird and uncomfortable, both for the person and for him. it feels just like being touched, like his bones creak under his muscles once the awkwardness sets in - it feels physically painful.

so he refrains. he refrains from most celebrations or social gatherings, he does not interact with people outside of work or training. he leaves his bedroom in the early morning, works and trains until exhaustion and, once he's satisfied with his productivity, returns to his chambers to bathe, eat and sleep. that is, if he doesn't sleep at his table, in the grandmaster's office - kuai liang finds him unconscious on top of stacks of papers, sleeping over lin kuei documents and mission reports.

(on those nights, either kuai liang or tomas leave him a cup of tea and some food for once he wakes up. bi-han never thanks them for it, but they know he appreciates the care).

even before he became grandmaster, bi-han had the exact same routine: wake up, train, classes, train again, eat, bathe and sleep. his cryomancy interfered severely with his sleep - something about his metabolic rate trying to compensate for the cold, so he feels constantly awake. insomnia has accompanied him for years and the easiest way to sleep is to just exhaust himself enough that he passes out and sleeps until the next morning. it doesn't always work - but it does the trick on most nights. his mother was desperate seeing her son exhaust himself to sleep, but they had no other solution to the issue.

his mother worried about him. she knew bi-han was the most dedicated of all her sons, even though kuai liang and tomas have always been as devoted to the clan as the eldest. but bi-han's obstinate nature worried her. it worried her that bi-han would exhaust himself to the point of death to fulfill his father's demands. the lack of physical contact and verbal communication, even with his own family, terrified her; and realizing how closed off bi-han had and would always be made her worry for his wellbeing even in her last days.

kuai liang and tomas don't talk about it. they know trying to argue with bi-han is futile - and would end badly for both of them. tomas knows bi-han is closed-off because he feels uncomfortable and would rather die than force his brother into an uncomfortable situation. kuai liang still worries and wishes his brother would open up more, even if only with his brothers, but he also knows bi-han is not the type of person to verbalize concerns or issues. his brother is practical and methodical; the type of person to solve the issue before telling anyone about it. so he knows that, if someone were the matter, he would know sooner or later; but his mother's worry rubbed off on him.

bi-han may not be verbally or physically affectionate, but one can clearly tell when he is worried. bi-han cares for very few people in this world and he unconsciously dotes over them a little when worried - which is a lot, considering bi-han does not dote on anyone in normal circumstances. questioning on their welfare and wellbeing is a very clear sign bi-han is worried (at least for his brothers, who are often at the other end of the question). tending for wounds and aiding with training unprompted are also possibilities, while less common. openly admitting worry is the final and rarest event, only reserved for his late mother.

for bi-han, worry and doting are a display of affection. not that he realizes it consciously, since he rarely dwells on the reason why he acts like this with specific people. but ensuring their safety and wellbeing is how he shows people that he cares, even if he can't verbalize it properly. (he doesn't verbalize it at all; bi-han does not do feelings).

bi-han may not be conventionally affectionate - but he worries plenty for the ones he loves. and that is enough, at least for him.

(c) fandomiplier. do not repost.

[margarethx]

I was genuinely surprised with the responses I've got on the first part of [THIS story]. It was such a random burst of motivation to write that I didn't even think it through and just posted whatever came out of my head. But I'm very glad that you liked it, since it's the first story I've showed to other people in like 4 years.

The working title will be "Assassinate them with Kindness", and I'll use that as a tag for later parts when I add them. It's also [available on Ao3] if you'd prefer to read it over there.

Enjoy <3

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

The weird man does not go to Sam's group on Monday.

Which is not as big of a relief as Sam thought it would be.

Because if the man is not here... where is he? And why did he even ask if he could join the group? Was he just taunting Sam? Teasing him with the knowledge or Sam's schedule and whereabouts, but not revealing how and for what purpose did he get that information?

Sam briefly glances at his wrist, covered neatly by a long-sleeved shirt and a warm blazer. The day is way too hot for this type of clothing, but he refused to look at the bruises on his skin for more than two seconds after noticing them for the first time. He still feels the pain, but it's easier to make it fade into the background, if he pretends it isn't there at all.

In spite of his nervousness and constant worry, Sam leads his group like a true professional. Calm, collected, funny when needed. A shining example of an ex-soldier who has left most of their PTSD far behind by working hard to healthily rejoin society. Definitely not a person, who started carrying a gun in public again after singular weird encounter, and who constantly has to fight with himself to not look over his shoulder and check if there isn't anyone watching him from the shadowed backroom.

But the man was not there. The meeting went well. And all the people leaving the room with their polite "good bye's" and casual "see ya!'s" have no idea about the turmoil in his head.

"See you Thursday," Sam smiles pleasantly and grabs Tyler's hand with both palms, shaking it lightly, as a young vet stops by. "It's nice to see you again. It's been a while," he adds, hoping that his eyes convey genuine warmth.

Tyler is young - too young to deal with this sort of trauma. A typical example of a teenager pulled into a military machine by life circumstances, not because of any principled believes. He went to have a better chance at higher education afterwards. And he lost half of his right leg for it.

He is secretly Sam's favourite in the group, with his sense of humour and positive attitude. Though Sam is sure there is a lot of fears and sadness hidden behind all the jokes, because he acted the exact same way when he first sought out help after coming home. It was easy to see the reflection of younger Sam in Tyler's behaviour.

And it was also great to have someone in the group who could keep everyone's mood relatively light when topics were getting heavy, without making others feel as if their confessions were not treated seriously. It was, of course, Sam's job to control the atmosphere as best as he could , but on days like this - when he himself didn't feel stellar - it was a relief to not shoulder all the emotional weight of the meeting on his own.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Wilson?" Tyler asks, also shaking Sam's hands a little.

"It's Sam, we've talked about this," Sam smiles, deflecting by playing their classic game of arguing over formality levels of their relation. It's a bit worrying. To know that he can put on a mask and his vets might notice his distress anyway. But no one else said anything, so maybe he fooled the rest of them successfully?

"Apologies. Is everything alright, Mr. Sam Wilson?"

Tyler sends him a bright grin and Sam sighs. He doesn't have much energy left to argue or pretend. He did not sleep very well last week, to put it lightly.

"I'm alright," he finally replies without much conviction. "It's personal stuff, you don't need to worry about this. It should be resolved by the next meeting," he adds, hoping that this little lie will make his situation look like a solvable problem with the end in sight. Maybe if he believes in it hard enough it would even come true?

For now, it seems that Tyler buys the explanation and drops the topic. As they exchange goodbyes, he still glances at Sam with a slight frown, but he doesn't push. It'd be unusual if he did. As much as Sam loves working with these people and helping them, they're not that close. His vets don't get involved in his personal life.

...They don't know where he lives, for example...

Sam shakes his head to stop himself from thinking and gathers the papers on his desk with a bit more energy than the task requires. He needs to get out of here. The conference room he uses is relatively big, but the walls seem to get closer and closer, the ceiling pressing down on him.

He exits the building, taking long steps, and avoiding everyone's eyes. Fortunately, most people he passes don't know him, so he's not stopped for any conversations about his last weekend and all the fun his co-workers had while he sat on his guestroom floor surrounded by unhealthy snacks, and wondering if it's reasonable to invest his meager savings in an upgraded security system.

It's embarrassing, when he thinks back to those three days. It shouldn't be that big of a deal.

But something about that man... About his eyes. About the bruises he left.

Sam really tried to not look at them too closely to avoid spiraling again, but he's pretty sure his skin almost broke in some places, as if pinched too hard. The only reason he didn't notice it right away was probably the sheer rush of adrenaline that flooded him in that moment and dulled the pain.

Once he's outside, Sam leans on a nearby wall, out of everyone's sight, unsure of what to do next. Even though he spent the last weekend hidden in his home, the place did not feel safe. All he could focus on were unusual noises or the headlights of random cars passing by, casting uneven shadows on his walls. At some point he was sure one specific shadow looked like a person, but when he carefully peered outside, his garden was empty, with the exception of a small bat the flew in circles under the nearest lamppost, catching moths in peace.

Normally, he'd stay, watching the little guy and reminiscing about the time he too could fly at such speed, but it didn't feel safe, so he moved as far away from the window as possible.

All Sam wants right now is to get back to his bed and hide under the covers, go to sleep, and wake up to realize that the whole thing was just a dream.

His bag slips from his shoulder when he slumps against the wall and the strap catches on his wrist. He hisses in pain, reminded once more - as if he forgot, somehow - that his paranoia is actually justified and that his home is not some safe haven he'd like it to be. Because someone strong enough to nearly break his bones with a strong grip knows where he lives and could come back at any second.

If the guy was a real vet, why didn't he come to the meeting?

And again... if he's not here... Where is he?!

Sam readjusts his bag and straightens up. He cannot come home right now, but he needs to sleep somewhere. He could ask one of his new friends to take their couch for the night... but it's not Delacroix and his friendships here are not on the "sleepover" level yet. And if the man decides to look for him, Sam would drag the danger to someone else's home.

He's not that selfish.

Maybe he could find someone on a dating app and stay the night?

He shudders at the idea. It reeks of desperation even to his clouded brain. He would not do that to some random innocent person. And he would not do that to himself. He has enough dignity left.

The mere fact that he came up with a solution like that sobers him up a little bit. It sounds almost ridiculous and he's sure he would laugh about it one day... if he lives long enough to tell the story about his lowest point post-Afganistan.

What he needs to do is to go to a public space. A place with cameras, a nice crowd with enough eyes, to catch if something's wrong - but not crowded enough that a person would fade into the sea of faces and moving bodies.

With that in mind, Sam takes another deep breath to calm himself and marches towards the nearest bar he knows. The place is probably half-empty at this hour, but an evening wave of patrons should start trickling in pretty soon.

The inside of the establishment is a bit too dark for Sam's liking, but as he sits at the bar he feels some of the tension leave his body at last. Behind the bartender there is a freshly cleaned mirror, showing most of the tables, so Sam can keep an eye on the room while eating.

He's not in the mood for drinking - mostly to stay vigilant, not because he couldn't use a nice glass of whiskey right now - but the place offers some typical fast food options, so he picks them from the menu instead. He'll have to really push himself during the next training session to pay for the sugar and fat intake of the last four days, but he feels like he's earned the right to be indulgent for at least a while.

As he eats, Sam observes other patrons suspiciously, looking over his shoulder from time to time. At some point he's sure he feels someone's eyes on his back, but no one new entered the building in the last twenty minutes and the people on nearby tables seem preoccupied with their own thoughts and conversations, so he's sure it's just the paranoia.

It's starting to get dark outside and the bar fills with shadows before someone turns on a few extra laps. There are more people sitting around Sam now, some staring in silence into their drinks, others talking casually, or flirting with the bartender, as per usual.

The guy behind the bar seems cute. Probably a bit younger than Sam's typical partner, but still in his bracket. He accepts the compliments with a calm smile not cutting them off right away, but not doing much to encourage the attention. Sam gets a little lost for a second, observing the man's hands as he prepares the drinks, almost hypnotized by the movents.

Suddenly, one of the patrons - one that's been sitting by the bar before Sam even came in - drops her wallet in a clumsy attempt to pay the bill. She smiles awkwardly at the bartender, who simply grabs the wallet for her from the floor, clearly used to similar shenanigans.

As the guy leans forward, a curtain of thin braids covers his face for a brief second and he glances somewhere in Sam's general direction from between them before standing up.

Sam freezes.

The man looks basically nothing alike the guy who stood at his doorstep last week, but something about that look causes the memories to flood Sam once again. He feels dizzy and the comfortable atmosphere of the bar becomes overwhelming and stuffy in a blink of an eye.

He nearly jumps out of his chair and makes a beeline to the bathroom. He's not sure why. He just needs to... Wash his face maybe. Look into the mirror and have a stern talk with his brain. Something. Anything! To finally calm down.

As he walks towards the bathrooms, he notices some man sitting in a booth he previously didn't see. He's dressed pretty formally, phone in hands, and an annoyed grimace on his face. He looks more like a person currently working than someone who just went for drinks to wind down after work.

His eyes meet Sam's which sends a cold shiver down his spine. For whatever reason, this man - looking like a banker or low-lever politician, which is a common sight in DC - scares Sam just as much as the creepy stranger haunting his thoughts.

He breaks the eye contact and darts towards the bathrooms even faster, nearly colliding with someone who exits the door.

There are three other people in the bathroom, two of which wash their hands and fix their hair in front of the mirror. Neither of them look particularly suspicious, but Sam keeps an eye on them anyway, walking towards the stalls and locking himself in one of them.

He sits there for less then two second before he realizes that he's made himself more vulnerable by isolating himself from the crowd, but he's really not sure what to do next. The brief moment of fear after seeing the bartender with hair hanging over his face seems silly in retrospect. He could've just ignored the panic, push the discomfort down, and go back to the main room. But the man in suit sitting in a secluded booth?

That was actually worrying. Because he didn't just look generally annoyed or angry. He seemed to be specifically mad at Sam. Which would be concerning with any other influential White guy, but in this particular instance Sam feels like there's more to it.

He hears another person enter the bathroom, interrupting his thoughts. Two of the people washing their hands leave. Someone else comes in. Sam keeps track of everyone inside and at some point he's pretty sure he's the only person still sitting here, so he quietly exits the stall.

Just as he expected, the bathroom is empty. It's a bit weird, all things considered. It's a Monday afternoon, sure, but this place is not alive just on the weekends and in the night, when students party. There should be a constant rotation of people going in and out at any point.

But the room is silent as Sam stands there, wondering what to do next.

He's pretty sure he hears some water running on the other side of the wall and muffled laughs, seemingly coming from a group of women washing their hands and talking in an adjacent room.

Sam's familiar with all the overdone jokes about girls visiting the bathroom way more often than guys or about them going there in hordes. And, stereotypical or not, there is some truth to those... but Sam's pretty sure it should not be this disproportional.

The man's bathroom has been empty for over five minutes. Which is way too long, considering the size of the crowd.

A motion activated light loudly going off in one of the stalls makes it even more clear that Sam's suspiciously alone in here.

He washes his hands just to do something when, finally, the door to the main part of the bar opens. A wave of sound - clinking glasses, loud conversations, a ringtone - fill the empty space until the door closes again, cutting the noise off.

Sam exhales with relief and moves to dry his hands.

Then he notices him.

The man from his porch, now standing behind him, staring straight at Sam in the mirror.

He looks even bigger now, taller, and more broad at the shoulders, his hair still covering the face like a greasy veil. His eyes pin Sam in place like a wild animal who's fight or flight instincts fired so many contradicting impulses in its brain that it ended up just freezing.

In any other situation Sam would feel vindicated. He was right! He was not safe, he was observed, and someone is going after him - for whatever reason.

He can take that useless sense of satisfaction and bring it straight to his grave.

The man doesn't move. He just looks at Sam or through him, maybe. As if he's mentally not here. Maybe his soul has also left his body, like Sam assumes his own did right now?

It's just like that day at his home. Awkward, tense silence and creepy staring. Sam feels the hairs on his arm stand up like a coordinated unit. His heart beats so fast and loud that it must echo on the bathroom's walls. If Sam's ears were not filled with ringing, he'd probably be more sure about that.

The man blinks, just once.

And something in Sam just... breaks.

When he'll think about it later he'll have no idea why he did it. But he simply turns off the water and turns towards the guy in one smooth motion.

"Oh, I know you" he says, tone casual.

The man frowns this time, still looking directly at Sam. One of his hands is hidden inside or his unzipped jacket and it twitches a little. Whatever he's holding there probably isn't a bouquet or a dove, he'll produce out of nowhere and present to Sam like a magician.

"Fancy meeting you here," he adds, like it's a normal conversation. Like they're friends from work or as if the man was his favourite cashier at a local store. "In the bar, I mean. Not in the bathroom," he jokes.

The man's face does a weird thing. It's difficult to tell what kind of emotion he wanted to convey, but he seems confused. Does he even recognize Sam? Maybe he's really not as mentally present this time?

The water drips from Sam's hands to the tiled floor - tiny rivulets running down his fingers. It's quiet again, just as before, until one of the other motion activated lights goes off in the stalls. Then the next one right after it. Click. Click.

The guy flinches twice, his hand moving under the jacket's lapels.

"Can I help you with something?" Sam asks finally. At this point it feels like his mouth is operating on its own, entirely independent on his brain. He's also there, but not really.

Maybe he's already died and hasn't realized?

"You didn't go to my meeting today." Why does he keep talking?! "Do you plan to join this Thursday?"

By some miracle, this question seems to work. The guy's eyes dart around nervously and he shivers as the last of the lights in the stalls section goes off. The room is dimly lit by now only by the small lights over the sinks. And Sam cannot ignore that they're still, somehow, alone in here.

"I'm sorry I didn't come today," the man says and he sounds sincere, though monotone. "There were too many people in there."

"Well, it's a group meeting," Sam smiles. "The people are kind of a given."

He feels like he's body is operating on a pure survival mode. It reminds him of his time in the military, in a way; of the time, where he had to put one hundred percent of his focus on staying alive and keeping other's from dying, too, but couldn't actually think about it. Because there were bullets flying by, and his hands were sticky with someone's blood, and there was a wound to stitch, and a person screaming. If he registered all of that in full, he'd just collapse on the ground, overwhelmed and paralyzed by fear. So it was easier to just switch his brain off and let the instincts and years of training take the wheel.

"If you're worried about confessing in front of others, it's okay." He keeps talking and the man's stare becomes even more intense. His eyes seem very blue, even in the poor lighting, which Sam didn't truly notice before. They look cold, but not because of the colour. More like there's not enough life in them. "There's no pressure to tell your story right away. Some people in my group love talking. Other's just sit and listen. If no one's up to talk, I take over and give a little speech," Sam grins.

And he somehow knows that if he looked into the mirror to his left, his smile would look genuine.

"I don't like talking," the man says eventually.

"I figured," is Sam's reply. "Like I said, I won't push you to say shit."

It's probably not the most professional way of phrasing it, but he's not at work and, frankly, he's about to be murdered, so it's not like they'll reprimand him for inappropriate language.

"Also," he continues, "I can give you a number to one of my colleagues who does one on one therapy sessions. That way you could..."

"No."

"...avoid groups," he finishes awkwardly. " Fair enough."

"Do you do it? The therapy? One on one, no people?"

Sam doesn't. And he'd probably lie about it, even if he did.

"Not these days. I already have a ton of work with groups. If you want to see me, specifically, you know where to find me."

Clearly.

"I do," the man confirms like it's not the creepiest thing Sam's heard in his entire life.

"Well, I have to go now," Sam tries, hoping that if he sneaks out of the bathroom fast enough this whole nightmare will finally end. If the guy's here to kill him, he's doing a pretty bad job right now, so maybe Sam could just... walk away from the situation. Surely, he won't get stabbed in the back in the middle of a bar? Right?

The guy's face contorts in a painful way and he finally removes his hand from under the jacket. Sam tenses, but the gloved palm is empty. At the same time, the guy sways a little on his feet and grabs the wet counter with both hands.

Before Sam has time to process what's happening, he's already next to the guy, holding his elbow carefully and looking straight into his eyes. The pupils are dilated and then suddenly small like a poppy seed, changing in a matter of milliseconds. Sam's never seen anything like it.

"Are you alright?" he asks unnecessarily, trying to keep the man from falling face-first into the sink.

They look at each other and the man seems panicked, more than anything. The unwashed strands of brown hair hang over his eyes, but this time Sam's too worried about him to let himself spiral again at the now familiar sight.

The counter makes a strained noise and a small crack appears on the surface. Sam imagines his own bones turning into dust under such grip and his wrist pulses with pain he felt in the background for the last few days.

"Are you okay?" he asks again, sounding more urgent this time. He doesn't even care at this point if the man's here to kill him. Sam's a paramedic first, and if someone's fighting for their life nearby, he'll always drop everything to make things better. Even if his body might end up in trashcan behind the bar for the effort.

The man blinks, licks his lips, and takes a ragged breath. There's a weird grey cast to his face now and he didn't even look that healthy to begin with.

"I have to go," he whispers finally and stands up. His forehead shines with sweat and his pupils are wide again. "Thank you," he adds quieter and walks away unnaturally fast.

He's there. And then he's not. The door closes so quietly behind him, that Sam doesn't even register the sound.

Sam sits down, not caring about the wet and disgusting floor and stares at the opposite wall in silence. In the women's bathroom someone laughs out loud and a sharp sound of the shattering glass reaches him from the bar.

It almost feels like he's lost his hearing for a while and it suddenly returns to him. As if he's been under water and came break to the surface once more.

He also tastes blood on his tongue and realizes he must have bitten it at some point without realizing. The unpleasant sting of a cut is what finally helps him to come back to himself. He cannot stay in this place a second longer.

He washes his hands again so they stop feeling as clammy and touches his face with them too. The cold water helps a lot, but his own eyes look wild in the mirror.

As he exits the bathrooms, he looks over the crowd that gathered inside since he fled the bar. Just as before, most people don't even look in his direction and he realizes that the man in a suit who stared at him earlier is gone as well.

Then, he turns around to close the door and suddenly he's faced with a bright yellow sign that warns: "Under Maintenance" in bold, black letters. An official looking printout below adds: "DO NOT ENTER".

None of those signs have been there before.

All Sam can do at this point is grip his bag, lower his head, and exit the bar as fast as possible. If he is getting strangled or stabbed today, he at least wants for it to happen in his home.

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

Shoutout to tumblr for glitching a making me feel like I've lost over 700 words of a draft <3 That mini heart-attack was very necessary.

Btw, funny thing about this chapter is that I've basically spent the entire time thinking that I'm doing too much. Like... I keep pushing Sam deeper and deeper into this spiral, but nothing really happened to him. It's not a big deal, calm down, man.

But then I have to remind myself that if some suspicious looking man knocked on my door, told me that he got my address from a person I don't know, asked me where I worked, and grabbed my arm so hard it nearly broke... I would simply perish on the spot from the stress xD Or I'd spent the rest of my life paranoid, even if nothing more happened.

So I think Sam should be allowed to have a 4-day almost panic attack, as a treat.

[analexthatexists]

Jotting down my UTMV AU Ideas because of this guy

@idkhowtoread-ink you’ve inspired me now pay the price

No clue if ANY OF THESE can make canon sense but does it look like I care? Lemme have my fun.

AMV!Ink / AMV-VERSE (AMVV?)

The idea is simple. At least, I hoped it was. Rather than the artistic AUs, fanart, and creative writing side of the community, there was an Ink made for the musical side of the community, like the AMVs, themes, vocaloid covers and what not. I’m sure Ink probably looks over ALL of that junk already but let’s be honest when was the last time you saw him doing it? Yeah I didn’t think so. Ink could be an unfinished animation meme or a vocaloid AMV like that Spring Storm one and eventually find a way to leave it and probably protect YouTube or inspire creators or something, gaining access to all the other things and people on the platform. Error could even tag along as some sort of flawed copyrighting system using Error’s body as a means of moving around rather that being confined to STRINGS of text. (Don’t ask me how he does that I don’t know) He would recognize everything as copyrighted or plagiarism or something and try to destroy it without seeing the creativity and originality in the work. Their designs could be based off the AMVs or covers they came from with Ink being from whatever the hell and Error being from…idk, probably ECHO. I wonder if Inks outfit would depend on which videos and content he delves into almost like Hatsune Miku or other Vocaloid.

LONLEY GUARDIAN

This one is just sad. A Dreamtale AU where, during a fight between Dream and Nightmare, Dream reaches out and gets a hold of Nightmare’s SOUL trying to uncorrupt it, sacrificing himself to be able to restore a part of the original Nightmare. Dream dies and the world is cast into absolute darkness, leaving Nightmare stranded in the cold world with nobody to seek comfort from, nobody to help him. Not anymore.

INK <——> NIGHTMARE SWAP AU

Random idea that I came up with after jokingly writing Nightmare getting drunk off of Ink’s vials. Would that actually work?What if the two got into such a dangerous fight that eventually Ink tried to teleport away but Nightmare lunges at him and two get their “goop” mixed together because Ink teleports via INK. And nightmare is made of a INK like substance. If Ink doesn’t instantly die from lead poisoning or something this mixing could mess up his brain while Nightmare just kind of shrugs it off and steals Ink’s vials. Ink would no longer need the vials and rely off Nightmare’s “blood” to feel real negative emotions, slowly craving the stuff more and more than his vials while Nightmare probably gets drunk off the vials or something and takes on Ink’s role. Error and Dream may have to team up to get them back to normal or at least try to.

SHATTERED DREAM BUT SCARIER

So looking at this post made me consider something. What if Dream tried to eat the apples and yknow do what he did in the original AU, but due to the overwhelming and clashing natures of his apple and the dark ones he just…MELTED AND DIED IN FRONT OF NIGHTMARE. He doesn’t even corrupt or anything (well sort of) he just DISSOLVES ALIVE RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM. Imagine trying to prove a point and failing THIS BADLY. Anyways, rather than Nightmare being haunted by his now corrupted brother, he’s just ACTUALLY HAUNTED. I was thinking this could be like Phantom Papyrus and Dust Sans and that this new “Dream” (going by Shattered) is just a horrible manifestation of this traumatic event. It’s design and personality wouldn’t be the EXACT same especially not the design (would look so much scarier) but it constantly make Nighty feel like garbage and all that. People like Swap and Ink would have to find and help Nightmare get past this trauma, where only then can he and his “brother” finally move on.

EVIL INK AU BECAUSE YES

I know, we literally JUST went over an Evil Ink AU but hear me out. Wouldn’t he WANT a soul again? Idk if it’s possible for him to reabsorb and claim a soul, he probably can’t, but what if he COULD? He’d probably go nuts over Error’s or something. Just ANYTHING to fill that void other than his vials.

wow most of these ideas involve characters getting traumatized or turning evil. I ain’t sorry though!

[goron-king-darunia]

Annon-Guy: Hope you like this. I feel this does Shadow, Rouge, Omega and Maria justice.

Tell me what you think when you get a chance.

------------------------------------------------------------‐-----------------

Voice Cast:

Shadow: Kirk Thornton

Maria Robotnik: Stephenie Sheh

Rogue The Bat and Abe: Karen Strassman

E-123 Omega and The G.U.N. Commander: Roger Craig Smith

------------------------------------------------------------‐-----------------

Sonic X Shadow Generations - Dark Beginnings; https://youtu.be/S7RTnNygRqE?si=7wV1L1r5lx9u2bj9

The choreography for the fight scenes are incredibly snappy, and Shadow, Omega, and Rouge have that great Team Dark synergy going again. The fact that Rouge wants to manipulate Shadow into doing something as silly as attending Sonic's Birthday Party is kind of funny, but I really doubt Shadow would go otherwise, so fair enough.

Omega constantly calling dibs and being upset when Shadow gets to explode a robot is pretty fun, and Shadow actually visibly pulling the escape pod lever to evacuate the G.U.N. mook was a really nice touch.

Commander Abe grew so much as a character off screen than he did in Shadow the Hedgehog, it's almost insane. But I love that they're paying attention to their own lore here. Also while Shadow was technically in stasis for 50 years, I like that they're still treating the loss of Maria as something that affects him like it's fresh. Because there's still so much that happened between then and now in the time Shadow has been awake, and in a lot of ways he only regained the memories of losing Maria recently on top of a lot of new trauma. So, like. I guess I'm just glad they're letting Sonic characters have realistic trauma again. Like, the comics are notorious for having Sonic's actual children literally disappeared from the timeline because timeline and time travel shenanigans meant they were literally never born, and Sonic has to tank that emotional hit with, like, the sadness of a guy that lost his favorite record collection in a fire and not, like A PARENT THAT HAD ALL HIS CHILDREN DIE IN A FREAK ACCIDENT. "Oh but it all turns out okay in the end they just get born later." NO. Sorry those are totally new kids and even if they were cell for cell the exact same kids that doesn't justify Sonic not being allowed to experience the crushing anguish he definitely would experience because "Sonic's not that kind of character and can't be too sad."

Like, nah, actually. They are funny little haha bouncy super-fast alien hedgehogs but they are STILL FUCKING PEOPLE. You do not get to put one of the literally hardest things a human can experience in the narrative and have the character shed 3 tears and shrug it off. "Oh but it's for kids--" who will grow up into adults and who will lose people important to them. Painting a character who is meant to be a children's role model as a guy who either can or HAS TO shrug off that kind of pain is basically telling kids "you might go through literally the hardest thing there is to experience in life. Don't cry too hard about it okay?" Like FUCK THAT. Not to even mention adult audiences that clearly read the material too who, you know, might ALSO have had such a terrible thing happen to them and the narrative barely gives that thing space to breathe before they go "Okay, everything's fixed now!"

So, yeah, I'm always going to be a little salty with narratives treating death as this cheap thing they can throw in to be like "oh a bad thing happened, but it's gonna be okay." As if death is a thing that exists for 10 seconds and then you get over it. I dunno, I've just never wanted death in narratives as something treated cheaply which is why in my own work I always think long and hard about whether characters need to die, even in my fanfic where my ultimate retcon is usually bringing a dead guy back to life. So I guess I just have mad respect for games and movies and shows that take this shit seriously. I know for a long time movies and games and shows for kids were supposed to be pure entertainment. The bad guy dying is just a way to eliminate the danger, the death of parents or community members or the fridging of women all serve as motivation for the heroes but aren't given much consideration beyond that, or death isn't mentioned at all and characters are subjected to fates worse than death so that darker themes can fly under the radar. And while I think it's noble and perfectly natural to want some children's media that focuses more on the adventure, pleasure, and fun of life and the narrative makes no allusion to or mention of death, I feel like we get so much of the other side of the coin too, where death is a flourish for easy fear and anguish that get plastered over with a happy ending but you're still not asked to consider it.

I think we get very little media that actually addresses something that most humans will go through. The deaths of people they care about. Even natural, expected, quiet deaths are painful. And it feels kind of strange that instead of offering audiences a safe and comfortable place to grapple with that unpleasantness, a lot of media asks us to skirt past it because it assumes doing so avoids the most unpleasantness and pain. And I really don't think it does. Grief, I think, is like a buckshot wound, and you have to do a lot of picking around in painful places to get all the bits and pieces out before any healing can happen. I'm not saying all media needs a designated 2 hour crying session where they play sad music and invite you to mourn the character that died or whomever in your life you have unresolved grief about. But I am saying that I think it's cowardly to not allow the deaths of important characters to haunt the narrative.

I recently had the opportunity to watch the Sonic movie. I know, I'm massively late to the party. I waited for it to show up on Netflix because that's the only streaming service I currently have and I'm morally opposed to and economically prevented from having 12 different subscription services just to watch everything as soon as it releases or else pay every time I want to see something in theaters no matter how old or new it is. And it's a good movie. But it bugged me a bit that the movie spent so little time on Longclaw. We skip all but the direct impact she had on Sonic. Maybe it gets addressed in the second movie. And I know a lot of time passes and it's meant to be his backstory, but we spend so little time absorbing that Sonic was chased out of his home and his initial mother figure literally died or at least seemed to die saving him. She lives on through the advice Sonic follows to stay safe on earth. But we're really expected to believe this tiny kid tanked both the loss of his home and his adoptive mother that easily? The only real resolution we get for that is the parallel of Tom thinking of leaving Green Hill and Sonic being shaken up by that because Tom is thinking of choosing to leave his home when Sonic himself had no choice in that. Longclaw gets one or two passing mentions.

We never see a body in the first movie so I'm assuming it's entirely possible they bring her back later on and they don't want us getting too sad about a character that isn't actually dead. But it still bugs me.

I suppose it's a personal thing for me, but I've always felt like if I have to or want to cause people pain in a narrative, I need to have a reason for it beyond "that's how you make this narrative work, that's the way stories are written." Then again, I'm the sort of person that almost unilaterally writes fluff and fix it fics, so maybe those are just the stories that resonate with me most. Maybe those are the stories I need, and everyone else needs stories where the narrative isn't haunted by characters long past. But, then again I resonated with Shadow before I even lost a grandparent, so maybe it's very little to do with personal circumstance at all. Maybe I just like suffering, any and all suffering, to be acknowledged for what it is and to ask the audience to consider the unfairness of a world where suffering exists because maybe it's just in my nature to want to beg the same from others, to consider how the world is unfair in the hopes that enough of us thinking about it will help the world to change.

[dprian-notes]

So who is Hybrid?

DISCLAIMER again! These are just my thoughts and theories, please do comment with your own ideas, it would be so helpful in figuring out the story Christian is telling.

From what I saw on Christian's Insta live and the music video for LIMBO, it looks like Hybrid is most likely the in-between of Mito and Insanity. The transition from one character to the next. Christian did outright say this in his live, but it is interesting the way he depicts the change in LIMBO's music video.

In the first scene of the mv we see a shirtless character, and from what I know and in my opinion I believe this is Hybrid. It switches scenes rapidly but in them I believe we see a shot of Mito as well. The character that seems to be Hybrid wears a striped suit with a red or purple tie, which I think would tie Mito and Insanity together. You can also see faint makeup that resembles Insanity's. The scenes constantly switch between color and monotone, which would also resemble both characters. I haven't yet noticed Mito's signature grey eye, but there is a scene in which we see the character's eyes change between orange and blue. I'm still pondering over what that could mean, but right now it also seems to tie into the transition between the characters.

I also found it interesting when the outfit slowly switches from plain black, to a black suit with purple or red. We know that Mito is mostly dark colors and Insanity is the complete opposite of that - him having many bright colors to his outfit and makeup, but the most noticeable color is the purple suit.

Christian made an important point in one of his lives, saying that the wolf is very symbolic to Insanity. I found it interesting that a verse of the lyrics is "throw me to the wolves, it's where I belong". Also, at 2:03 in the music video we can hear a wolf's howl. This sets off a scene of chaos in the room, papers are thrown and the character seems to be struggling or fighting something. I think that this point is the beginning of the transition to Insanity. It would make sense for it to look painful and for Mito/Hybrid to put up a fight as they go more insane.

The end of the music video is what caught my eye the most. There is a change from Hybrid to Insanity, as he sits on the bed looking at his hands. This is the exact scene from the Don't Go Insane music video, which leads me to believe that this song/album (since we don't know how many songs will be released or how many of them will pertain to Hybrid) is a prequel to Dear Insanity.

The end scene for LIMBO is the beginning (after the initial credits) of Don't Go Insane. The music video for Don't Go Insane even shows a character to the likes of Hybrid in the same position on the bed at the end of LIMBO! One of the beginning verses in Don't Go Insane mentions wolves as well: "Oh bless my heart, when the wolves take me away".

This seems to make it more likely what I said before, that LIMBO is the prequel to Dear Insanity, but like I've said, these are just my theories.

Below is a screenshot from the end of LIMBO:

And then here is two shots from the beginning of Don't Go Insane:

Here we can see what looks to be Hybrid, as he has the same outfit as in LIMBO and is in the same struggle. The second picture is the very next scene in Don't Go Insane. He is in the exact same position that LIMBO ended in.

I hope this all makes sense, I'm planning on trying to go through Dear Insanity and write about what I think the story is through that album, but it may be a bit :).

[gxilds]

chishiya <3 i have brain worms

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2

so i’ve been thinking a lot about what he said in his little monologue about how he resented and envied people for having the things he lacked. a heart? morals? belief in the inherent value of life, justice and selflessness? all the above? i’ve been thinking a lot if this is the kind of person he’s drawn to? what if someone who fights to stay soft and kind and idealistic? how infuriating it would be for him. just some thoughts, because as you can see i’m very normal about him

If I am being honest I have not finished s2 but I am an avid manga reader and I know exactly what you mean and it’s almost 12 am and I am brain rotted.

I imagine he unintentionally gravitates to people who fight to stay hopeful (for example, Arisu) and to him that’s infuriating not because it can be obnoxious for him but because he is jealous.

Chishiya doesn’t have a light in his life and he’s dealt with a lot of issues with the people he thought should be caring for him just not doing that. Despite not wanting to admit this, or at least tell other people about it, he constantly is subconsciously compensating by being around people that can depend on him and provide him with care. I imagine he really needs a friend (or more, you decide) who grew up with similar familial issues and had that same dynamic of being neglected but instead takes that energy and turns it into helping others and being kind which is something he isn’t particularly good at. while this said person might be one of the most kind and caring people on the planet with an ambitious career, this man is a skilled yet absolutely terrible doctor because he really just doesn’t give a fuck about who he is taking care of.

as for how he responds? not well. it makes him want to rip out his hair and claw at his skin because how can someone who’s been through the exact same thing and been put through the ringer have such an optimistic outlook, be so kind, lovely, respectful and full of life? why can’t he have that? why can’t he have the will to see another day? why can’t he care about his and other peoples qualities of life? Why can’t he be them? he wants everything that they have, even if under all those layers of care is the exact same situation he’s been through.

I think in the end it could change his “if no one cared for me, why should I care about them?” mindset even more. I know he has a change of heart again but I believe someone like that, especially one who wouldn’t give up on him, would be such a huge catalyst to that change. Not only would be leaving the borderlands rejuvenated but also ecstatic to be alive and with a deeper understanding of people.

we see this already too with Arisu (mind you the long analysis I have about Chishiya representing indifference from trauma and Arisu representing leniency from the same is stocked up on my acc somewhere probably) Arisu is a main catalyst in Chishiya’s change in heart because of what Arisu represents so I have a feeling someone who is like cracked out Arisu would not only change Chishiya, despite the jealousy, but in the end would make him happier as a person.

Please I need to desperately write more Chishiya stuff cause I have so many ideas about how this could go LORDDDDD HAVE MERCY

I am also not sure if I should finish s2 because of some changes I heard about and I am so not normal about chishiya to the point I would stop watching over it… not to be dramatic or whatever

[cycian]

An ode to explorers, a Starfield appreciation rant

Firstly, I must be honest. My arrival into the universe of Starfield was difficult. The world did not speak to me outright and I found myself lost as the game slowly unraveled itself to me. It took some time to understand one key point of understanding that would lead me through my journey through the Unity and the multiverse.

You make your own story. The purpose of your existence into this universe is up to you and no one else. You might have heard a lot of criticism against the game—some of it is valid. But there is no right or wrong way to engage with a piece of media, and that is especially relevant when discussing Starfield.

It was quite reminiscent of the joyful embrace of the lack of meaning of the Universe, and brought me back to Camus and Lispector quite a few times. At the core, the meaning of the game and of the Unity is something that you must seek within yourself, and that will evolve with you with each step into eternity.

“And it's inside myself that I must create someone who will understand.”

-Clarice Lispector

Spoilers for the main quests below.

            What meaning is there to be had, if we are the only ones to remember?

This question could have been asked by the Hunter, who, driven by greed and boredom became the main antagonist of the game’s main questline. After all, he admits to letting the first occurrence of our character move forward upon realizing that for the first time, we’d broken our cycle of death during High Price To Pay. His entire perspective is based on what he remembers, because to him, that is all that matters.

And while one might be quick to argue that they do not feel the same, let me ask you, after NG+4,5, have you not made selfish choices yourself? Have you not led others to suffer simply to see how that would change as opposed to your original one? Have you not thought back about your companions from your original universe, on how they are faring, lost to an ever-expanding blackest sea?

My original meaning had been to set out and chart the immensity offered to the player. But as I progressed too fast, something horrible happened. I started High Price To Pay entirely blind, losing Andreja to save Sarah. And suddenly, my goal was shifted. I went from scavenging, charting planets and dabbling in the faction quests with little interest, to rushing as fast as I could through the main game to start over again. I had no knowledge of the endgame, I ignored the temples and anything that wasn’t related to the artifacts.

When I met the Emissary, it felt like a ghost. Not just Andreja’s—although the instant the revelation came into play, I gasped and almost dropped my controller. I lost my beloved godfather in February this year. I do not talk about it much, but think about it constantly. And this Andreja, well, she had lost me. And was doing the exact same thing that I was doing—rushing things through, hoping that she would get to see me on the other side, even just a glimpse. She was my ghost—I was hers.

To get to see someone I had once lost, on terms that were not mine (we’ve all restarted games or lost hours of gameplay to save a beloved companion, have we not?), it rattled my perspective on the game, and on my objectives.

I knew I was rushing to have Andreja as a companion again. But why?

Because I’d been so busy discovering the galaxy, fighting against the Terrormorphs and getting to learn the world around me, that I hadn’t had enough time with her. Hell, except Sarah, I hadn’t spent much time around my companions at all! Then, came the realization that had hit me similarly as I played Cyberpunk 2077, or Pillars Of Eternity.

Why am I doing this?

What is the purpose of my actions? And why did I realize what mattered most to me, only when it was threatened to slip out of my grasp?  

It was then that it started occurring to me, right as the Unity’s purpose was revealed, that I wanted more time. As V, I wanted more time to live. As the Watcher, I wanted more time to scour Eora.

 And as the Spacefarer, I wanted more time to say goodbye.

Because as I left behind my now-wife Sarah Morgan, I realized that I was not departing alone. The rest of the companions, no matter what I did or said, would step through the Eternity and find their way across the multiverse. Some out of curiosity, expiation or escapism, some out of grief and regret.

And those reasons have echoed with every Starfield player I’ve discussed this subject with. This story was no longer about my Spacefarer letting her gaze drift towards the infinity for the sake of curiosity, or because it was what the game offered as an ending. This story became an Ouroboros of discovery in the art of letting go.

I went through the Unity without hesitation, hoping to find those I’d left behind there. And though I was happy to no end to be welcomed back into a place that could have felt like home, had I not been in such a rush to enjoy my destination, my heart felt a pang. It felt a pang as I laid eyes on Sarah, who had no idea who I was, despite how close we had been. And as the story went on, most of my thoughts were on those I had left behind, their stories untold. I hadn’t completed Barrett and Sam’s quests, so hell-bent on finding Andreja in another life. The fact that they now wandered the multiverse, their troubles still unresolved, burdened me. Yet, I found much more light in this new cycle. I got to spend all the time I wanted exploring the universe with my favorite people by my side.

The universe hadn’t changed—just a few of my responses and story points found themselves changed, but it was my perspective that was evolving. And that is the greatest feat that this game drew out of me. It gave me time—an infinity of it. I married Andreja, built outposts and finished every faction quest.

But the Unity kept calling—there’ll be more. There’s an infinity of time. There no time limits, no rushes to be had, nothing to fear as I had grown too strong from my previous universe. That is when I started talking about it with my friends. Why are you playing?

Some loved building outposts and creating factory towns. Others strived to see all aspects of morality and drive the game to the very limit of what it was made for. Others just wanted to pick a direction and go until they got bored of it.

All of those were more than valid reasons to enjoy the game. It took me a while to understand why, now that Andreja was safe, that every companion was happy and cared for, why I was still there, still playing.

It’s so simple it hurts. I just wanted more time. When you lose someone, all you can think of is the missed opportunities. The calls you could’ve made, the experiences you could’ve had. It wasn’t even something that crossed my mind. I had pushed back the grief so far at the back of my head and buried myself in work that I thought the weight on my chest was nothing but the lack of sleep catching up to me.

Until I got to the Unity again. To the core of the Universe. I did everything I wanted to do. Why did the idea of leaving hurt me so? I wanted more time. There was nothing more to do. My companions had said all that they had to say. I wanted more time. I was supposed to be at peace. More time. I needed to move forward. More time.

One more time. I went in. I skipped the main quest, wondering what it would do.

And saw myself become alien to those I had given everything I had to. They were afraid of opening up to someone who already knew all about them. The beauty of the mise-en-abime was not lost on me, quite the opposite. For the first time, I felt myself as my Starborn. This familiar stranger, listening to the echo of their favorite song, wanting to savor each note as they echoed in an universe too vast for comprehension.

That was this precious moment where I fell in love with Starfield. When it acknowledged what I knew, where I’d come from, and asking where I wanted to go from here. Breeze through the story with mostly silent companions? Or do it all again, again and again, until it stopped hurting, until I stopped caring.

I know that the ending was unappreciated, anticlimactic as you can choose to enter the Unity any time, and you may leave it as you wish.

To me, this the game’s most precious gift, because in an universe that is so vast, cold and uncaring, they are asking you, the player, what do you value?

Was your bond this cycle so deep, that you refuse yourself the final trip into the unknown, knowing that someday, you will make that leap? Are you eager to start all over again?

To me, it felt like the kindest gesture. It felt like a friend’s hand on my shoulder, saying “take as long as you need”.

For the first time since that dreary February morning, I was able to cry. And think of past memories with my godfather, where the shadow of death did not permeate the beautiful days we had.

This game is an invitation to explore, outwards and inwards, safely, with immense room to fuck up and the guarantee that nothing is lost forever.

Spacefarers, venture forth. And catch a smile out there.