#he was just doing what he'd spent his whole very short life being told he was supposed to do

[evilkitten3]

ok but hang on real quick bc look at goku's face right before he falls

there's nothing malicious there at all. just happiness and curiosity. those traits have always been a part of goku; the brain damage just made him forget he was supposed to kill everyone

[firequeenofficial]

Sunflowers can really spread far in seven months. They now covered the whole server, from one corner of his prison's borders to the other.

Never one to sit still, Scar had repaired his house, then the others' as well. The Scotts and Tots' base looked better than ever (in his opinion), Bdubs' world was back to how it was before he'd burned it down (he really did love it, he'd always admired Bdubs' work), he'd even rebuilt Grian's stupid egg, even though the man had only lived there for a short while.

He spent more time than he'd ever admit at that egg. Something about it, about being surrounded by something Grian had made tickled something in the back of his mind. He'd felt it since the moment he'd arrived in this world - and something told him he'd felt it before, more than once. Like he was missing something, like he'd forgotten something, or someone, important. Some part of him thought if he stayed here, in Grian's egg, where the sensation was strongest, maybe he'd be able to remember it.

---

Grian missed him. He had his own Scar in Hermitcraft, of course, but... it wasn't the same. There was something about the death loops, the urgency, that made his time with Scar feel different, somehow.

But that was gone now, and wouldn't come back for a while. The latest loop had taken a lot out of him, and he needed time to refresh before he could set up the next one. He knew that time was important, he knew the best thing to allow it to come sooner was to rest, to focus on Hermitcraft and his friends there. And yet, he felt himself drawn back time and again.

Finally, after a long session fishing - which was working wonders for his power regeneration, by the way - he gave in to the urge. What harm could a small jump do? It wasn't like he was making a whole new world for this excursion, and he was only going to walk around a little bit, maybe lie down in his, Etho's and Cleo's base, perhaps he'd even sit in the Secret Keeper's shadow for a moment.

It wouldn't take long.

---

Scar spent a lot of time, when he wasn't building or farming, screaming at the Secret Keeper to let him out. It never listened, of course. Only stared with that cold, uncaring face, the symbol carved into the stone glowing slightly. No matter how many times he hit the succeed, fail or reroll buttons, it only ever gave him the same result - a task book reading, "Win Secret Life". And no matter how many he insisted that he had won, that he'd killed the few allies he'd managed to keep, that he was alone and scared and he wanted to go home, wherever that was, it never cared. It never changed.

That was where he was now. Curled up against the fail button, throat raw and eyes red. And always, always, that knowledge that something was wrong, that someone who meant something wasn't here.

He was just preparing to get to his feet, ready to trudge back to Trader Scar's - what a laughable name that was now - when that cursed symbol started glowing a bright purple.

Scar yelped and scrambled back, heart pounding. The glowing grew and grew until he was blinded. And with the glowing, a pulsing sound that pressed in on his ears like the air pressure had suddenly skyrocketed. He clapped his hands over his ears, groaning.

Whatever was happening, he was sure it couldn't possibly be good.

Then it stopped. The glowing, the pulsing, everything. Scar tried to blink the blackness from his eyes, tried to shake the ringing from his ears.

Just as he started getting some hearing back - but still very little sight - a wonderfully familiar voice said, "You're still here?"

---

Grian should have known it was a bad idea. He should have known better than to return to the scene of his latest crime. The other Watchers would have his wings if they knew he'd done this, but until the very moment he arrived, he hadn't cared.

Then he saw Scar.

He looked so much worse than when he'd last seen him - or this version of him. His cloak was torn and wrapped around his waist, revealing a half-open shirt that was simultaneously dirty and sun-bleached. His shoes were gone, his trousers clumsily hacked off halfway down his calves, leaving his feet and ankles bare and unprotected. He'd lost his beloved hat during the loop, yet Grian still pictured Scar with it; it was still gone. In it's place were flowers - sun flowers, the same as the plants that stretched as far as they eye could see. At his waist were more flowers. Not sunflowers. Poppies and lavenders. And every part of uncovered skin - which was quite a lot - was bright red. Grian hadn't seen Scar this sun-burnt since...

No. He wouldn't think about that. He couldn't think about that.

Looking at him now, it was clear Scar had given up caring. Of course he did, why wouldn't he. There was no one left to care for.

Scar was blinking blindly in his direction, not seeing him, and rubbing his ears like they hurt.

The question fell from his lips before he could stop it. "You're still here?"

Stupid question. Obviously he was still here.

Grian felt sick. It had been months. Stars, Scar - playful, cheeky, funny, amazing Scar - had been here, all by himself, for more than half a year.

This was his fault.

He should have turned around and left before he could do something stupid. Instead, he found himself rooted to the spot, staring at the man who had once meant so much to him, the man he had missed so much more than he could ever admit to anyone, even himself. He couldn't move, couldn't leave. Couldn't do anything other than stare.

---

It hadn't rained since he'd killed Pearl. The storm that came with that final lightening strike was over quickly, and the sun hadn't stopped shining since, except when the moon that usually brought some sort of comfort came out to stare uncaringly down. There were never any clouds, any wind was a light breeze at best, and the nights were almost as sweltering as the days.

Something about that was familiar - just on the edge of memory, on this side of forgetting. And yet, he couldn't reach it as hard as he tried.

He'd tried to bring rain. He'd died so many times since he'd lost Pearl, but the lightening never struck, the rain never came. He just woke up in his bed, as dry and burnt and alone as ever.

And now that voice. That damned voice. It made his heart stop cold, even as it soared.

What was he doing here? How did he get there? This shouldn't be possible. He couldn't be here. Not after so long. He was just imagining things, his desperate mind making up the one person he wanted to see more than anyone else.

And yet, as his vision finally started returning, there he was. Grian. Staring at him like he was seeing a ghost, a pair of large coloured wings at his back, his sweater whole and clean and not at all like the tattered thing he was wearing when Gem had killed him.

(He'd never tell anyone that he had saved that sweater when he'd buried Grian alongside all his other friends.)

But still, even looking so different, there was no denying that this was Grian.

That stupid feeling pushed forward even further. He was missing something. It was starting to drive him insane.

Finally, he found his voice, "Grian?"

"Scar," Grian breathed.

Scar felt like he could cry. He'd been alone for so long, and he felt like if he made the wrong movement or the wrong sound, Grian would disappear again. He didn't know if he could abide any more isolation, not after even this short moment of companionship.

But then his body took over, and he was crawling, then heaving himself to his feet, then running. He threw his arms around Grian, picking the smaller man up and spinning him around, so relieved to see someone else that all restraint went out the window.

Grian's wings flared as he let out a yelp that was almost more of a squawk, and Scar hurriedly put him down.

"How are you here?" he asked. Now that he'd made the first move, all the fear of doing or saying the wrong thing went out the window.

"I-" Grian just blinked up at him, unable to form a full sentence. "I don't-" He swallowed, then tried again. "It's... a long story."

And Scar found he didn't care about the non-answer.

"How- how have you been?" Grian asked, then pulled a face, like he knew it was a dumb question.

Scar thought about that one, wanting to give the most honest answer he could while still making light of the situation. He couldn't say he was good or fine or alright, because he was far from all three. He couldn't say he was coping, becuase he didn't think screaming at a statue could be classed as coping. He couldn't say he was busy, because he'd finished all the work there was to do. Finally, he settled on, "I'm alive."

Grian flinched, like he'd hurt him.

Something was off.

---

"I'm alive," Scar said.

And Grian couldn't help but flinch. Because he still saw Scar dead at his feet when he slept. He still saw splashes of red whenever he saw sand. He still struggled to even punch Scar while acting normal.

He could only be grateful Scar couldn't remember that. A small comfort, knowing Scar would never look at him and hate him for that moment that made Grian hate himself so often.

Scar was looking at him like he was trying to figure something out. His everpresent smirk seemed strained. Finally, he admitted, "Something's wrong."

"What is it?" Grian asked, because he couldn't think straight enough to come up with a different response.

"I don't know. That's the problem." Scar started pacing up and down in front of him, seemingly unbothered about the Secret Keeper staring down at them, listening to every word. "I've just had this feeling ever since Pearl... since I won. Like I'm missing something. Someone. From a past life. But I don't know who."

Grian's heart clenched.

Scar was right. Something was very wrong. Scar should have been transported back to his own world after he won, just like all the others. But besides that, he shouldn't have been regaining his past memories like this. He was only supposed to retain the memories of this loop, not the others.

He shouldn't have been able to remember Grian, even if he didn't know it was Grian he was remembering.

He tried to think of something to say, but Scar pushed on, like he'd been waiting to say this for a while.

"I can't remember who it is, I can't remember anything about that, but I know they were there. I know they're not there anymore. I lost them, and I should remember but I can't. I can't remember their laugh or their voice or their smile or their face or their clothes.

"I don't even remember what they were to me! Were we friends? More? Less? Did we hate each other? Did we even know each other? We must have, right? We must have known each other, for me to feel like this, but I don't know!"

The more Scar spoke, the more frustrated he became, and the fast he paced.

"I don't know if they were a man or a woman or something else! I don't know if we spent every second together or only a few! I don't know their name or how they looked at me or how I looked at them! And the more I think about it, the more it makes me mad!

"And the more I think about it, the more I think... someone took them from me. Not just the person, but the memories. Someone stole my memories of this person, of a lifetime I know I had but can't reach. They're there, they're right there, I can feel them, but I can't get to them and it's driving me insane! I want them back! I want my memories back! I want my person back!

"All I remember is waking up in the stupid world with everyone else, but there has to have been something before that, right? That can't be all there is! But I can't remember, and I want to, but I can't!"

Scar paused for breath, and Grian took the moment to whisper, "No. You don't."

Scar stopped short. He stopped pacing, almost stopped breathing.

He saw the moment the words registered in Scar's brain, the fear and confusion and desperation, and the beginning of anger.

"What do you mean?" Scar asked, his voice trembling and uncertain, like he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Grian looked away, not meeting his eyes. He turning instead to stare up at the Secret Keeper.

Why? He silently asked the statue. Why would you do this to me? Why are you punishing me like this?

The Secret Keeper, of course, remained silent.

"What did you mean by that, Grian?" Scar pushed.

Without turning, Grian said quietly, "Those memories were taken for a reason. They're not... you don't want them. Trust me."

"You took them." It wasn't a question, and Grian didn't know how he'd made the leap, but he didn't ask.

Instead, he just looked down, his back still turned away. "Yes."

And then Scar was screaming. "How could you do that?! How could you do that to me?! I thought we were friends!!"

"Exactly. I- I didn't want that to change. I didn't want to lose you. If you knew everything I'd done... I couldn't do that to you."

Grian couldn't see Scar's face, but he could picture it just fine, just like he could picture all of Scar's expressions. He could see in his mind's eye the way Scar's eyes widened, the way his smirk fell as he bared his teeth, the way his eyebrows furrowed. He could see the way Scar unconsciously curled his hands into fists and the way he rose up onto the balls of his feet. He wished he didn't know all of this as much as he did. He hated himself for deserving it.

"Give them back!" Scar shouted. "Give them back, they're mine! You have no right to take them! What, just because you were scared?! Because you couldn't face whatever tiny mistakes you made?!"

"They... they weren't exactly tiny. I had to wipe everyone, it was the only way. If you remembered... it would have been too much for you. I was trying to protect you."

"Look at me," Scar ordered, his voice dropping to a growl. When Grian didn't move, he went back to screaming. "LOOK AT ME!"

Slowly, Grian turned, letting Scar see the tears in his eyes, the way he couldn't lift his gaze off the floor, the way his hands and feet and wings were never still for longer than half a second. It didn't seem to alleviate his anger at all, of course not. Grian hadn't expected him to.

"Give them back," he snarled. "I don't care what you did, or what anyone else did. I want to remember." His voice broke. "Please."

And finally, finally, Grian met his eyes. Swallowed once. Twice. He didn't want to hide anything from Scar, but the thought of what the other man would do if he knew everything, if he remembered what he was to him... it terrified him. But the sight of Scar like this hurt him even more. So he whispered, "I'm sorry," and raised a hand.

---

It was so overwhelming, having so many lifetimes' worth of memories rush into his mind all at once. He staggered back, gasping, and the back of his legs hit the reroll button. He grasped the stone the pillar letting it keep him up as images flashed across his eyes.

A desert. A mountain. A bamboo sanctuary. A clock tower.

A bee. A horse. A giant cat. A llama.

Grian in a poncho over a white shirt. Grian in a torn sweater with a necklace of hearts around his neck. Grian with sugarcane in his shirt pocket. Grian in a black leather jacket and sunglasses.

Grian. Everywhere. Everything. He was... everything.

Grian. This whole time, it was Grian - his Grian - that he was missing.

Grian standing in the desert. Grian standing at the foot of a tower. Grian standing at the top of a wooden cake. Grian standing at the end of a wheat-covered bridge.

Grian with bloodsoaked hands around Scar's neck. Grian with an extra life he'd stolen from Scar. Grian losing both their lives for nothing. Grian shoving his sword into Scar's back.

Grian telling everyone not to trust him. Grian seeking him out for fights. Grian cheating on him with BigB. Grian breaking their alliance.

Grian turning on his over and over and over again.

And yet.....

Grian taking care of him and protecting him. Grian seeking him out to hang out with. Grian trying to keep Scar alive and healthy. Grian choosing him and his family to ally with.

Grian smiling at him. Grian laughing with him. Grian holding his hand as they ran from enemies. Grian giving him their resources to trade with. Grian patching him up after a battle. Grian's voice. Grian's face. Grian's hands. Grian's clothes. Grian's wings - Scar remembers those now.

"Do you see why I wanted to keep these from you?" Grian whispered.

Scar looked up at him - oh stars, he hadn't realised just how much he'd missed him - and saw him refusing to meet his eyes again.

He didn't know what to think. All those horrible things Grian did. All those amazing things he did. How was he supposed to weigh them against each other? How could he know which was bigger? Which was more important?

"There's one more thing," Grian breathed, closing his eyes like he couldn't bear to see Scar's reaction to the next revelation. "I- It's my fault. That you're here. That everyone keeps coming here. These loops... they're my fault."

Scar's heart sank. Oh. "Why?"

"I just... I wanted to see you all." Grian admitted. "I wanted to... I don't know. I wanted to see you. Not just like in Hermitcraft, but... it's different, here. I can let myself care a bit more, because it's only for a short time, and everyone's just going to forget anyway. It doesn't matter."

"It doesn't matter?" Scar thought of the desert, their desert. He thought of his Jellie-panda sanctuary. He thought of his mountain house and his clock tower. He thought not only of Grian, but of Joel, of Pearl, of Cleo and Bdubs and Etho. His friends, his family. And now that he remembered them, he missed them even more than before. Maybe that was what Grian meant when he said he was trying to protect them. But... "How can you say that? Of course it matters! We matter! You can't just erase us and pretend it never happened!"

"I could never pretend it never happened! Trust me, if I could, I would! If I could wipe my own memory, make it so I couldn't remember any of it either, I would do it in a heartbeat!"

That took Scar back. He hadn't expected that at all.

"You think it's fun, seeing my friends die, over and over again in my sleep?" It was Grian's turn to go on a roll now. "You think it's fun not being able to go in a desert again? You think I want to feel like I'm going to be sick every time I see a panda, or a spyglass, or a long field of wheat, or a path in the sky?

"I wish there was another way to get you all together that doesn't end in all of us dead, but there isn't! At least this way, we respawn. At least this way, we can keep seeing each other again.

"I tried another way - trust me, I tried. I just barely managed to shut it down in time, before They destroyed it. I came this close to losing everyone permanently. I won't risk that again. This is the only way."

He trailed off. It almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself, more than Scar.

"Who are They?" Scar asked softly.

Grian stiffened, then glanced over his shoulder at the Secret Keeper. Scar looked too. Did its symbol glow brighter? Was it humming softly? Did it seem almost... alive?

"Let's get out of here," Grian said instead of answering.

"Oh." Scar just stood there watching him for a second, his mind whirling too fast for him. Eventually, he managed to offer, "We can go to my base."

"I actually meant a little further." Grian managed a small smirk. "Are you ready to go home?"

The words were like the finest music to his ears. He glanced over his shoulder at the massive sunflower field the world had become, then grinned. "I'm so ready."

---

The Watchers would have his wings for taking this punishment for the crime of caring and making something good from it, but he didn't care.

Scar knew who he was. He knew what he was. He knew what he'd done. And he didn't hate him. He still wanted to be his friend. Maybe, with time, he'd be willing to attempt more.

But for now, Grian was happy with this.

He took Scar's hand, his heart soaring at the smile the other man gave him, and flapped his wings, dragging them both through the multiverse.

Back home.

~

This turned out a lot longer than I originally planned it, but man was it fun. Thanks to the wonderful @kays-artstuff for the idea and for deciding I was worthy to give it life! Everyone go check out the amazing animatic that inspired this! Scar's appearance came from Hoffen's wonderful skin after Scar posted the tweet that altered my brain chemistry, go give them some love too!

[tamlindudley]

I loved and I loved and I lost you.

Tamlin's pov. ACOWAR Chapter 77. ( SJM could only spare less than 200 words for this part, revealing absolutely nothing of Tamlin's feelings because otherwise, god forbid, the reader might end up liking him! )

For @tamlinweek Day 7 - Free Day.

Tamlin did not resist when the magic summoned him. He knew it already, he could feel it. A life was lost, and not just any life but one of a High Lord. He didn't let himself think about who it was that had died. Any life lost mattered the same, or he told himself that. Even if the man who had taken everything from him had died, he wouldn't feel differently than if it was any other High Lord. Or would he? Would seeing him dead really give him a sense of vindication? Victory? He didn't want to dwell on the thought.

When he winnowed to where the High Lords had gathered, their palms held out, he was quick to realize what was going on. And to see that it was, indeed, Rhysand who had died. But that feeling of victory he had half expected? It was nowhere to be found. Unfortunately, it seemed, while the anger he felt was fierce and chewed at his very soul, he did not gain any vindictive pleasure from seeing the loss of a life. His death brought nothing back after all, didn't calm the fury in his veins. Perhaps it was a good thing that he was not vicious enough to laugh at the lifeless form which Feyre held.

Feyre.

His attention moved from Rhysand to her, his heart aching on seeing her bloodshot eyes. She was sobbing as she held him. Even after how she had betrayed him, he couldn't bear to see her in pain. And this pain? He knew exactly what it was. This was a sight far too familiar, he had been in this exact situation, holding her in his arms and being ready to do anything to get her back. The memories seemed like it was from a different life, before his heart was crushed into a million pieces.

Did she think she was acquainted with pain? Did she know of all the days he'd spent in vain? Fighting for her return Only for the tables to turn When she had nothing more to gain

“Please.”

Her pleading words stirred something in his heart. He hated that it did. It always did. He glanced between her and Rhysand, his face carefully masked. He had pleaded for her life the same way before, and yet, here she was, pleading another's life. And not just any other man, but Rhysand. After everything he had done to her, it baffled him how she could love him. He was still half convinced that Rhysand had manipulated her mind into loving him. But if he was dead and she still loved him...?

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to love Tamlin and hate Rhysand, not the other way around.

She had once told him she was all thorns. Thorns he had sworn to himself that he would love with his whole heart, whatever it took. And he had kept that promise. Loving her even when she was strangling him with her crown of thorns, tearing into his heart and relishing in all the ways he bled. She had however, made no promises of the sort. Promises didn't seem to matter to her anyway.

“Please, I will—I will give you anything—”

It was an effort not to laugh but he managed, and that was as well because he was sure his laughter would have sounded nothing short of maniacal. It was like a switch had flipped inside him and he could feel something vengeful within him.

Oh, what could he possibly ask her? The options were endless. Perhaps he could ask for a week with him every month for eternity, it was something she was already used to after all. Or perhaps he could ask for the entirety of the Night Court? A Court in exchange for ruining his seemed fair. Or demand that she admit to his people, what she did to bring his Court down. He could wait around too, after he brought Rhysand back to life. He didn't have to be anywhere very urgently. He could wait to see him wake up, find out what he thinks of the deals he made with his High Lady.

But what was the point? Did he really want to stoop as low as Rhysand had? Stealing Feyre away against her will was something Rhysand could do with no regrets but Tamlin could not stomach it. He couldn't even live with himself when he had brought her to Spring against her will as a human, and that was when so much else had been at stake. He couldn't force her to live with him just out of spite. He wasn't like Rhysand, and he never will be. And yet here he was, considering letting the mate of the woman he loved die.

He wouldn't lose or gain anything. Not from bringing him back to life, not from letting him die. He had nothing to lose.

All he had left was anger.

“Anything,”

And she was asking for it. His anger. His all consuming rage, which was all that kept him going. To give it up, for her, and save her mate's life.

He thought of what would be the consequences if he refused. Maybe he would make enemies? Be called someone with no heart? But how different was that to what it was already? What was one more stain to his already ruined reputation? Maybe if he didn't save Rhysand, he would at least finally be deserving of all the hatred she felt for him.

“Anything.”

He stepped towards her, standing behind her watching her nails dig into his skin, her ear pressed to his chest -- listening for a heartbeat, he supposed. Well, atleast Rhysand had a heart it seemed. He had long thought differently.

For a second, his mind flashed into the past, to the last bargain he had made with her, a kiss to see past fae glamour, the laughter, the lightness, the happiness, the love. As he stood there, looking down at her, he knew there was nothing that could make that feeling come back to him ever again.

But it was a different story for her.

She loved another now, perhaps more than she ever loved him. And maybe, just maybe, if he gave this one thing away for her, the one thing he had left, she would hate him a little lesser.

And so he did.

“Be happy, Feyre.”

Can she understand my surrender Or will I forever remain an offender Will this offering ever suffice Will her heart stay as cold as ice Even though I have given my all to mend her

He slipped his palm out, a tiny bean of light forming there, and with it, all his anger left him, leaving him empty, a husk of a person. He had been that for a while now, but he had nothing to hide behind anymore.

And as soon as he had given her what she wanted, he winnowed away.

It was clearer than ever, there was nothing left for him there. Maybe at another time, he hadn't felt alone in her presence. But now it was her presence, and her heart belonging to another that brought him more loneliness than anything else ever had.

And it hurts like hell.

[facetsofthecloset]

i'm sure it's been said but i feel like both Raxtus and Ronodin can be argued as "the only gay kid in the family and consequently shunned/rejected" and it's like. so weird bc Mull is so Mormon he'd probably rather eat his shorts than even acknowledge the possible existence of gays but

i mean. Raxtus literally has a fairy form. he's a fairy dragon.

Ronodin was just emo lol

and they both get so thoroughly rejected and sidelined by their families their whole lives and it turns Raxtus into an awkward but basically decent guy who runs back to the approval of his family once he's performed masculinity/violence enough to be accepted, only to then realize that he's basically just being used and still not fully trusted/accepted and having to betray them to save his real friends

(who sadly are probably actually homophobic but that's ok bc they're not dragon-phobic so that works out for him)

while Ronodin's like "fuck it. chaos and murder then!" and can you really blame him? he spent his entire life trying to conform to the "right" (in this case, Light) way of life, started spending time with the outgroup and learned to question things, then was told he was "too corrupt" to remain in his home

like. the symbolism is right there.

it's so funny, because sure Raxtus isn't a bad guy, but Ronodin definitely is and he pretty much gets sent to a type of hell at the end of Dragonwatch

and while Raxtus gets kind of a happy ending, like, him becoming an effective killer in a war and being accepted by his dad for being Good At Murder in the first Fablehaven series is presented as a happy ending. if Celebrant didn't wind up being the main villain for Dragonwatch, that probably would've been the end of it! gay kid learns how to soldier and is finally accepted by his homophobic family bc he's finally aggressive enough for them to love him

(i mean i have MANY issues with Celebrant being the main villain later and the reasons he's framed as bad but like. that's a separate rant lol)

the queer reading is right there. but also it's very bad and you can tell completely unintentional. or at the very least highly repressed. idk man i don't look into Mull as a personal individual bc i doubt i'll like what i see and i don't care that much but Dragonwatch was SO MUCH MORE MORMON than Fablehaven already was and it's so weird, seeing the fingerprints of it all over.

i feel like he either has a new editor or he's been doing this for long enough and sold enough books that he has the clout to veto changes made by editors or SOMETHING, bc i feel like? he's gotten worse?? and more unfiltered?? that or something happened and he's like. even more religious than before or something idk

like fablehaven was just kinda generic/bland fantasy with some fun ideas for magic items/powers/one sentence character premises, with just a hint of sus Mormon ideology, and then Dragonwatch just went. Full Mormon.

but then there's somehow even more weirdly queer shit. like. he's repressing so hard he's approaching queer from the other side??

idk man i wish this deeply mediocre man's writing wasn't a formative piece of middle school reading, leading to me still giving more of a shit than i really should over questionable children's literature now

[faededaway]

Natsuo and Fuyumi Todoroki x reader

ATTENTION: it's polygamy. It truly is a Natsuo and Fuyumi's girlfriend type'a thing. (No description of reader besides use of the word girlfriend) about 2k words.

[more thoughts on this ship]

Natsuo has a hard time dating people. After reaching a certain point he always pulls back. He always makes sure to do it as early as possible. He was going to do the same with you. He told himself he would let you go before seeing you in his jacket felt more natural than wearing it himself, before waking up without you felt like a nightmare, before he starts thinking of what you'd like to eat for dinner when he's cooking, before he aligns his holidays with yours, before-

Before it was too late.

But, it was too late. You were in the shower when he did it. You made a remark about the water being cold enough to make you cry. He didn't say anything until you got out. He'd packed your stuff and laid out an outfit for you.

“Maybe you find me too cold, too.”

You'd laughed and told him, “Natsu! Of course I don't! I was talking about the water. My fingers hurt from the cold.”

“Don't they hurt when you hold mine?”

There'd been a lot of back and forth. You'd spent weeks trying to convince the love of your life that you didn't mean anything metaphorical. You were being literal. You recalled every hug, every hand held, every bed shared, every time you touched, every time you bared yourself to him. None of it made any difference as he wasn't leaving because of you. He was leaving because of himself.

Last time you'd spoken, you had begged him to give you a reason for why he left. You'd begged him to meet you one more time. He'd stayed quite on the other side of the call. You'd said, “you know? I, I do find you very, very, cold, Natsuo. C-cold enough to make me cry for the rest of my life.” The crack in your voice was reflected in the crack in his heart. He vouched to never date again.

Then you met Fuyumi. Fuyumi.

Everything about her appealed to you. Her smile, her voice, her glasses, her hair, her hobbies, even her gait. The more you learned about her, the more you liked her.

Fuyumi. Fuyumi who fills every corner of her life with warmth.

You didn't realize her relation to Natsuo until you saw him in her house.

You had just showered after spending the night with Fuyumi. She was making tea in the kitchen. It was your small routine.

If she spent the night at yours, you made the tea. If you spent the night at hers, she made the tea. The other person would shower and make their way to the kitchen. Then you'd embrace each other with soft smiles and softer kisses.

“Your tea always tastes better than mine! Tell me your secrets!”, you peppered her neck with kisses to hear her giggle, your real source of warmth through the cold.

“I can say the same about yours. You make it just how I need it”, she turned to wrap her arms around your neck and kiss your temple.

You closed your eyes to savor the short moment you had before you'd separate for work.

“Sorry, it took me a while. The water was so cold, I almost cried.”

A shattering noise from the adjacent living room made Fuyumi jump in shock.

You turned around to see him, of all people, with a half cracked frozen mug, sitting on the couch you and Fuyumi first made love on.

“Natsuo! Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Don't touch the broken pieces. I'm bringing a dustpan,” Fuyumi left your arms to help your ex-boyfriend fix his mess.

Natsuo.

Natsuo. The reason you cried for six months straight.

Natsuo. The reason you walked on eggshells around every person you knew for fear of upsetting them enough to leave you.

Natsuo. Your first love who carved out a whole chunk of your personality and threw it away while throwing away 2 years of your life.

You were one more thought away from dropping to your knees when Fuyumi said something worse, “love, meet Natsuo, my brother. He said he made too much food so he brought some over to share with us.”

Natsuo. Fuyumi's brother.

Sirens blared in your head, a thousand exclamation marks were drawn all italicized. For the first time, something she did took warmth away from your life.

It did make some things fall in place. Like, why you liked her so much from the get-go. She looks like him. Laughs like him. Or maybe he laughs like her. Same laugh, they have the same laugh. They smell similar. Same detergent, you assume. Her hands hold yours the way his did. They listen to the same obscure vinyl record, only Fuyumi plays it on a record while Natsuo played it on his walkman. There were a thousand other things you could list. Like that time you got a dirty look from a restaurant owner that Fuyumi said was a family friend. It didn't make sense then but ah, I did go there with Natsuo.

For the second time, the love of my life would leave me because I said something about a stupid cold shower.

You laughed. An honest, amused laugh until there were tears in your eyes and said, “Fuyumi, I know your brother as well as I know you.”

Natsuo had forgotten your voice in the 2 years you spent apart. But he'd never forget your face. His first thought upon seeing you was did she do this for revenge?

But then, your voice cracked the way it did when you last spoke to him. And he knew, life was being cruel to him and you and Fuyumi once more time.

He cursed himself internally for thinking you would stoop this low for revenge. He, more than anyone else, should know how he contributed to this. In the two years you dated, he never once introduced you to any family member. He told himself you were temporary. And you, you never had an interest in celebrities to look up 'Endeavor's family members'.

But Fuyumi loves you enough to talk about you at family dinners. I think you will like her. She's very sweet and pretty. She gave me a vinyl record of her favorite song. I just think, whatever we have, I want it to last. I really want you to meet her so she knows how serious I am about her.

“You-, you do?”, Fuyumi's voice was faint. The stillness of the room was the only reason it was audible.

You looked like you wanted to cease existing.

Natsuo got up from his seat. Two of the women he loved, loves, were going to fall apart because of him.

“I, it's fine! We were young and it was a long-”

A sob left your chest. Fuyumi was by your side in an instant, holding your falling body.

Natsuo sat back down and held his chest while you cried in Fuyumi's arms.

Everyone had called their work and asked for a day off. Natsuo had called and asked his friend to take notes for him.

You were all seated around the kotatsu. Natsuo had served the food he brought over. Fuyumi's tea was served on the side.

You picked at your plate and nibbled occasionally. You were seated next to Fuyumi. Your left hand held onto her sweater.

The Todorokis exchanged glances. While Natsuo didn't introduce you to the family, he did tell his sister about his last girlfriend (aka, the reason he stopped eating for 2 weeks straight).

Fuyumi knew Natsuo's girlfriend. He had confided in her during your breakup. She knew how he broke your heart and knew why he did it. Their father left different wounds on each of them, some of them hurt others in these ways. But she didn't want to hurt you or lose you.

She took a deep breath and asked a brave question, “what if you dated?”.

“I don't want you to leave me!”, your hand clutching her sweater tightened.

“I know. I know, honey. I am-, I'm not leaving you,” she squeezed your left hand to reassure you.

Natsuo, who understood her question, choked on his meal.

His sister was proposing something blasphemous. He had to brush out the thought as soon as possible. No.

That's all he had to say. But the thought of feeling you and holding you in his arms again, and to have you hold onto him like you're holding Fuyumi held him back.

“Yes.” He said before he could convince himself otherwise.

You jerked your head towards him. His sister hummed in thought. You glanced between the siblings to try and understand what they were thinking.

Natsuo moved to sit by your right side and Fuyumi drew in a breath again.

The two of them held a hand of yours before Fuyumi spelled it out for you, “darling, I understand that finding out your first love and your current girlfriend are siblings isn't easy for you to take. But I think there's an easy solution here. I love you so much. And I know how much Natsuo loved you, how much he still loves you. I know how loving be would be to you, how much better he would be today. I'd love to see you be loved like that. Will you let us both love on you?”

“I, I don't get-”

“Date us both. Go out with both of us. Love her and let me love you, again”, Natsuo simplified the thought for you.

You gaped at the two of them while trying to form coherent responses. You couldn't wrap your head around it. What part of it was easy? What part of it made sense? Dating two siblings at the same time, one being your ex, made no sense.

“Let me kiss you. Just once. If that doesn't help you, we can forget this whole thing. And I'll leave you alone”, Natsuo suggested.

Hearing him say ‘I will leave you alone’ hurt more than you expected it to. Do you still have feelings for him?

You looked back at Fuyumi to see how she felt about his suggestion. She wore an encouraging. To help you, she held your chin and kissed you.

When you separated to take a breath, she turned your chin towards your ex.

He gave you a second to hesitate before leaning in.

His lips still felt the same. He cupped your face with both his hands and kissed you like he was making up for the two years he spent apart from you. You let go of your girlfriend's sweater and brought your hands over to his chest.

You liked it. You liked it a lot. You missed him. You wanted him. Tears spilled from your face and you choked on a sob.

Natsuo pulled away immediately.

“But, what will, ah, how, people, and uh, people, and your mom and my mom, and others, and you're siblings. And I don't-”, you had so many worries. All of them spilled over in an incoherent mess. Your chest heaved. Your body shook.

Your two loves steadied you in their arms. One kissed your head while the other kissed your hand.

“We can explain. I am sure your friends will understand. It may be harder to explain to our families but we can work on that slowly,” Fuyumi held your face in her chest and consoled you.

“You don't have to think of everything now or today. Just focus on us now,” Natsuo rubbed your head.

The two of them were truly like your rocks. Having both of them here made you think how could I not want this?

“O-okay.”

And that's how you became Fuyumi and Natsuo's girlfriend.

[blindaysblogforturtles]

OKAY OKAY I COULDN'T CONTAIN MYSELF

A man or a monster.

Yoshi and Shen have 3 children together: Yoshi II, the oldest, representing the bond between the clan and the yokai, and little Chisenshiro, an homage to the sacred name and to the little boy Yoshi grew up with.

For a long time things were good and chill, so pacific in fact that some of the clansmen were leaving for the modernity of the city. Not many, but it was clear that since their mission wasn't as proeminent as before, times of peace allowed them to leave without facing guilt or banishment. Yoshi grew to be a good and loving father, and a specially protective husband.

It's because things were good that the tragedy felt all the more painful.

Shen sensed a disturbance in the air first. For days she left the mountains to look for the source of the threat. There was something wrong, she told Yoshi, and she knew he could feel it too. But how the fuck would they explain that? He couldn't exactly summon his warriors because of a hunch. He tried, but the council argued he was being paranoid since the times were of peace.

Well, that blew up on their faces when the fucking Shredder came around with an army of corrupted humans and yokai alike and proceeded to wipe out every single Hamato on sight. He killed elders, women, children. Babies. The warriors, samurai and ninja, tried to put up a fight, but his power was unmatched. Yoshi hadn't known it was an attack. For all he knew his little brother had come to see him after all this time. He'd been excited and hopeful, and that hope blinded him to Saki's true intentions.

Yoshi barely survived, his children had to do most of the fighting to keep their family alive, and Shen carried all of them away from the massacre ocurring with the help of her father in law, Riku. Chiseburo, his wife, had been the first one victim to the Shredder as she saw through his façade.

They hid in the forest, having to move often to avoid capture from the army the Shredder had sent after them, settling in the city with an old member of the clan that had left before the incident. Life in the city was specially hard for Shen and the kids, as they were still part yokai and needed to be connected to their roots. The boys could grow used to the lack of energy they felt for the broken connection, but Shen grew weaker by the day and no one knew if she would survive. Nobody had made a pact like Yoshi and Shen's before.

And that wasn't the only problem. The moment of relative safety was cut short when they received a message from Shredder declaring war against japan unless Hamato Yoshi and his family - all of the people who had left the clan too - came forward to face him. They were hopeless.

Until Yoshi found about an american organization specialized in detaining dangerous supernaturals to keep the lives of humans as normal and mystic free as possible. He connected to them and asked for help, but it wouldn't be simple as that, as they couldn't just trust a random guy from half the world away. With a heavy heart Yoshi said goodbye to his family and promised they'd be whole again. He would be back. Shen allowed him to go, but as soon as he left, her spirit collapsed and she fell into a deep sleep.

In America the organization put Yoshi through all sort of test and trial to prove his story because, unbeknownst to him, Saki had made himself a very respectable public figure in japanese society. They accepted his request for help only after he proved that he himself wasn't just a delusional lunatic and showed his powers.

The look in agent conducting his case as he heard Yoshi's retelling of what happened gave him a bad foretelling, but he forced it down as he promised they'd work on his case.

If he in turn worked for them.

Forbidden from contacting his family by any means, and unable to feel them in his soul, JY0B2's mind withered and deteriorated to the point he was barely human. He spent years being subjected to tests, sent to violent missions, used as a hit man; and experiment after experiment, his memory of the reason he was there faded only more and more, to the point he couldn't remember what life outside had been.

After a mission that almost ended his life he hid in the sewers aiming to go back to base after he lost his enemies but found his injuries were too severe do that. He spent 3 days in the sewers, where he found something. A small rat. In the back of his mind he remembered that yokai had a connection to animals and he was part yokai, and in the back of his mind he remembered a stunning Jorogumo saying she'd devour his flesh like a black widow eats a rat, but it was all blurry and confusing. He called the rat Yoshi. It felt right. And when he went back to base, he still had the animal with him.

"It's fine, Yoshi." He said, laying in his cell and stroking the rodent's furr. It squeaked. "I promise I'll bring you back to your family in my next mission. I just don't want to be alone now."

That promise he wouldn't break.

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

Bro I fr am enjoying writing this shit. What the actual fuck. I LOVE IT. Also, finally, we see a glimpse of Splinter. Is Yoshi gonna mutate? Or is it JY0B2? I WONT TELL YA HEHEHEHEHEHEH

BUT I am workin on art for the pathetic lil man so there's that. And his rat friend. And also the monster wife, I made her extra hot and extra dangerous.

[polyhexian]

The idea of Darius crouching down to talk to Hunter is so fucking hilarious. He is so very out of his element and everything he does just keeps making things worse (in his mind at least. Hunter thinks all this is going pretty good but that bar is so very low.) and he is literally ready to take any suggestions.

But also imagine Hunter's reaction?? On one hand, he might feel like Darius is just patronizing him for being young and also Darius, you have short friends who could have told you how terrible an idea this was. But on the other hand, does Hunter even know enough of how kids are supposed to recognize the whole 'getting down to a child's level' especially since it's a way to make a child supposedly feel safer and less threatened? He's spent his whole life with most adults literally looming over him. So the closest he'd be familiar with is how he kneels to Belos. But that's even more confusing to Hunter, especially since with their height putting them at the same eye level (Hunter does not realize that was the point)

You get on their level to talk to young children, not a sixteen year old oh my god ejshfjtk especially not a teenager who's been treated like an adult his entire life. It WOULD be extremely patronizing. The best part is that Darius's apparent closest friend is like a foot and a half tall.

Being nice to hunter is an extremely precarious balancing act of treating him like an adult and treating him like a child. He's spent a lifetime being treated like an adult and if you suddenly take that autonomy from him now its-- well yeah he's going to hate it! The dude has been able to manage his own time and missions (on weekends) so trying to tell him what he can and can't do now is... well, it's taking something he already had. And if he had to learn how to do it on his own when he shouldn't have had to it's fucked to take it now that he knows how. Like hunter should truly never have to ask permission to go anywhere or something. No one gets to tell him "hunter, you're seventeen you can't go to your friends house tonight, hunter, you have to go to school, hunter you cant eat that, have that, watch that" like yes he can lol

This is why I often establish in my fics that hunter is straight up legally emancipated. He's not actually a dependent. He's got legal adulthood and everything else is a choice, a gift, not a burden.

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

Debunking the “Lancer is a little kid” belief

After years and years of not shipping anything (not in video games, movies, or TV shows), I finally came across a particular pairing in Toby Fox's "Delatrune" that immediately caught my attention. In case you're still guessing even after reading the title, I'm talking about Susie and Lancer here. Specifically, how Lancer is portrayed in the Delatrune fandom.

Now, what you're about to read is me being as objective as possible, but if you still see Lancer as a literal kid (even after the very last point, taken straight from the game itself), go on and believe what you want to. I mean, isn't that what works of fiction or supposed to be about? Letting our creativity flow and taking whatever we want to take from the actual work, so that we can interpret it in any way we want to? I won't even stop you from posting hate comments (they're inevitable). Just prepare yourselves for a reality check, folks.

Enough rambling. Let's get straight to the point. And that point is that whenever I went on the internet to look for fanart/fanfiction of these two, I could barely find any for one reason: 99% of the fandom saw the pairing as pedophilic. I must stop you all right there. Let's take a not-so-well-deserved break from my little discussion and look up the term 'pedophilia.'

In short, a pairing can’t be pedophilic if neither one of the characters is an adult. Or, if they're in a romantic, but non-sexual relationship. Like, you can call a couple with an age gap weird/gross all you want, but if it's not sexual, the term 'pedophilia' doesn't apply. That's my whole point. Except... Susie and Lancer are *peers.*

About Lancer's height. Saying that he's a child just because he's short is like saying Papyrus is much older than Sans just because Sans is short (heck, if you compare the heights, you'll see he's even shorter than Lancer, and yet Sans is an adult, and no one has ever questioned it).

Let's look at an actual example: Monster Kid/Teen. I found a picture containing them as a child (right) and teenager (left). See the difference? Okay. 

Now, I did the same thing for Lancer, and... if he were a child, he'd look something like this:

If you look up an actual height comparison for every character in the game, you’ll see how Lancer and Monster Teen are the same height (Kris and Ralsei too as far as I can tell). Still not convinced? Let's look at Susie. Most people follow this logic: She is taller and, therefore, must be older than Lancer. To that, I say: she's a dinosaur-like monster; of course, she will be taller than the others. Who knows how tall she'll be as an adult? As for Lancer: his dad may be tall, but that doesn't automatically mean he will be as huge as him when he grows up. Nothing weird about that.

Now Let's look at Lancer's personality. He's an immature and spoiled prince, but for a good reason: he spent his entire life being treated as a baby/toddler/child before he met Susie. No wonder he lacks confidence, needs 'babysitters', and is terrible with directions. Lancer... doesn't know any better. He's never been told that he can be his own individual. He's never been told that he isn't useless. That he doesn't need protection. Remember when Lancer told Susie that he had never eaten the Dark Candy hanging way too high on the tree because he wasn't allowed to get it himself, and she decided to let him try it even though she was hungry? Or when he stated that he wasn't allowed to swear? Lancer was even surprised that the trio's "collective dad" "lets them" swear. I'm sure people growing up in a strict household would understand when I say how this doesn't explicitly have to do anything with Lancer's biological age, just his upbringing. And Susie trying to get (the word they used was not 'teach,'  just 'get') him to swear more is similar to what some of my friends do sometimes when I'm too shy - get me out of my shell. That doesn't make me younger than I am. She teaches Ralsei sarcasm too in CH2, and I don't see anyone treating him like a little kid.

There's an interesting post about this here on Tumblr (https://at.tumblr.com/rainy-poppy/lancer-is-literally-a-child-why-are-you-shipping/d3kpxj3hpn1j). Basically, the person is saying that Susie, being the tough badass she is, wouldn't be hanging out with an actual child (despite calling him 'kid,' which I'll be getting to after this). Let's look at Anne and Sprig's friendship in Amphibia for a second since both of their ages are confirmed. She's 13. He's 10. The difference between Susie and Anne here is that Susie was a bully. Someone who was actually threatening, and not just a typical, friendly teenage girl like Anne. A bully like Susie would NOT willingly team up with a child. Instead, she'd say something like: "Whatever, kid. Scram!". Not only that, but she would not threaten to bite a child's face off, or beat him up (Lancer was literally the first person she actually beat up, according to what Monster Teen and Snowy tell us about never having seen her do it to anyone before), try to kill him twice (and almost succeed the second time), or call him 'man,' 'dude,' 'idiot,' and a 'wannabe tough guy.' And Lancer's face? I don't know if it's a joke. If it is, I'll ignore it, but if that's his actual face, then no. Him being a child is impossible. And considering that he has already made this particular face three times (once in CH1 and twice in CH2), I'm pretty sure it's canon. I can't get behind how someone could look at this face and think "That's a baby/toddler/little boy!" I seriously can't.

And it's not just that. We see that he and Susie made a literal game in which we (Kris) and Ralsei are supposed to ‘thrash our own ass’. I don’t know about you, but I highly doubt a child would have the mental capacity to contribute to the project or keep up with Susie in general. Additionally, Lancer shows an uncharacteristic level of maturity, ordering his troops to imprison us. Heck, they put him as the king of the entire Card Kingdom! Would they have put a 10-year-old on the throne? If they were smart, then no, of course not! Rouxls Kaard would have been in charge instead until Lancer was old enough. The comment one of the Rudinns made about him being their new king went something like: "We didn't know who to make our new king. Lancer's always been annoying, but seeing how nice he treats you guys, I think he'll be fine". There isn't a single mention of him not being old enough. The only canon information we have about Lancer’s age is that he isn’t old enough to ride a motorcycle, so he’s 15 max. Not an adult, but not a child either. And considering how the rest of the gang are teens, he is at least 13 (although, this is still too young imo).

Lancer understands the concept of death damn well; he just doesn't let it bother him. A child would scream, beg, cry, or run away in terror if someone threatened or tried to kill them, or become paralyzed from fear. He was even willing, no, EXPECTING to die during the Susie fight and said "Susie, you... you missed." He was willing to make this sacrifice just to keep her safe from his dad. The same guy who only used to care about being useful to King and making him proud (despite clarly having a soft heart) finally found something more imporant than proving himself, and that's having, being, and remaning a true friend to the end. This is both heartbreaking and beautiful. And from this one scene on, Lancer's remained 100% loyal to his friends, especially Susie (but also never had a single thought about leaving Kris and Ralsei behind).

A child like Monster Kid was clearly naive in UT. They said how they want to be like Undyne when they grow up (all Lancer said was how he wanted to be like Susie, without the "when I grow up" part). Not only that, but Monster Kid isn't even old enough to fight and needs Undyne to protect them, while Lancer is a skilled fighter compared to the rest of the Card Kingdom inhabitants (minus his father). Lancer, as immature as he sometimes is (and for a good reason, if we consider his upbringing), isn’t naive and clueless about the world. Bonus points for his jokes being not only silly but clever and sarcastic. He's like the perfect combo of Papyrus' goofiness and Sans' sarcasm. A child wouldn't be able to ride their bike as well as he does, think of such witty comebacks, or make up creative new words on the spot. A child would babble some stupid stuff, unfunny to teenagers. But Lancer's actually the only person who can make Susie laugh (besides herself).

Now, about this whole 'kid' talk. Lancer, I believe, called himself like this because he sees himself as a child despite being chronologically older. Why? As I said, because of his upbringing and (I think) because his father always saw him as incapable. And Susie addressing him as ‘kid’? It could mean a few things:

1) it was said as a way to mock him for his height, immaturity, or both, and as an addition to the comedy; it's not that deep

2) She thought that he was a kid, but Lancer explained to her that he wasn't when they started hanging out, which would explain why she didn't call him a kid ever again (and called him 'dude' and 'man' instead);

3) It's meant to imply Lancer is 1 or 2 years younger than Susie, but 3 years younger? I don't think so. More than 3? Definitely not.

*I think the first one is the most likely scenario considering she had called him a 'wannabe tough guy’ during their next encounter, while they were still enemies

I respect if you don't like/hate the ship because you see them as siblings, if you headcanon Susie as a lesbian, or if you ship her with someone else. I'm just sick and tired of this reasoning and not being able to enjoy the ship in peace because of people attacking it and its fans.

Edit: There are a lot of things I either forgot to mention, or want to discuss in more detail, so here they are:

-The reason the word 'kid' is repeated so often during our first encounter with him is because someone from the staff accidentally thought Lancer was much older than he really is based on the headcanon voice he gave him, so Toby decided to highlight that Lancer is a kid just like the rest of them (this was spoken of during the 6th anniversary of UT, there's a video on YouTube). Not only that, but Berdly calls himself 'the smart kid', and Susie says something like 'whether you're the smart kid or not, we couldn't care less (referring to Berdly)'. Basically, they're all still "children" (as Queen calls them) even though they're technically teens, and it's not like Lancer is an exception. Heck, Berdly asked: "Who's this guy?" And not "Who's this kid?" because we're already familiar from CH1 that Lancer isn't an adult, so there's no need to highlight it anymore

-Toby wanted to make 4 slots instead of 3 originally so Lancer could be a part of the gang and appear in the status menu, but figured that it would take too much work (from the stream). This proves that all 4 of them are equals; a child wouldn't be able to or allowed to fight alongside teenagers

-Speaking of my previous point, Lancer is a pretty skilled fighter (can throw a ton of spades), he's stronger than a lot of his people (his attack is 7) and also surpingly difficult to kill (during the fight with Susie)

-He acts a lot less stupid than most people give him credit for and is way more emotionally mature. Sure, he's silly for the sake of the comedy, but also clever and sarcastic. You can't convince me, based on his dialogue and interactions, that he acts like a little kid. Once again, I don't understand how those who had played Undertale are now pretending that they don't know Toby's humor is often exaggerated (like in Papyrus' case). It's not their first time seeing someone incompetent and purposefully goofy in his game

‐ If we look inside Lancer's room, we can see that it not only looks similar to Kris and Susie's, (who are, you know, teenagers), but there are also no "childish" things in there, such as toys, posters and action figures (Papyrus has them, and he's an adult). Also, he has a totally normal, spade-themed bed, while Papyrus, again, has one shaped like a car, yet somehow, Lancer is the one seen as a little kid. Sans reads Papyrus *bedtime stories* I repeat: *Sans reads Papyrus, an adult man, or an older teenager, bedtime stories.* NO ONE does this to Lancer.

-Whenever he and Susie interact, I always get the feeling that they're both on the same wavelength. To give an example of what I mean, I'll compare their dynamic to the one between Applejack and Apple Bloom from MLP:FiM. Even though AJ cares about her little sister, they each have their own friend groups. Saying Lancer is a little kid wouldn't make sense, considering how Susie has always treated him as her equal (heck, they even high-fived each other twice in CH2. If that isn't a sign of equality, I don't know what is). I never got the feeling that she was taking care of her "little brother," like a lot of fans seem to think. Even when she tried to save him from the maze, she got lost herself. I mean, who wouldn't do something like this if it meant helping a friend out? Not to mention the many stupid things they did TOGETHER (in the 6th-anniversary stream of UT, Toby stated how neither of the two knows anything about villainy), so it's not Lancer dragging Susie down with him

-This might sound like a nitpick but I think it's important: how Lancer addressed King as 'Father,' and also how King referred to him as a 'traitor'. A little kid would excitedly run up to their dad and say either "Dad!" or "Daddy!" And I highly doubt a kid would be referred to as a traitor

-Susie actually planned to bite his face off, and Ralsei didn't stop her. I'm sure as hell he wouldn't have let a young child get eaten like that. Also, Lancer called him his 'main man,' once again showing that they are similar in age. And if he were really a little kid, Lancer would have annoyed the living daylights out of Susie once they teamed up (ask her to play with him, ask a lot of questions and be overall annoying. Trust me, I've got younger cousins). But instead of that scenario, Susie says "We got bored, so we're having a snack" What does this mean? That Lancer did not act like an annoying little kid, simply because he isn't one. Don't even get me started on how people draw him, because holy hell, it seems to me that 1) most of the fandom is actually blind and doesn't see that he, Ralsei and Kris are all roughly 4 feet tall in the actual game or 2) they try to capture Lancer's childishness by drawing him as a toddler (except, the personality they give him isn't his real one in the first place, considering how he's never acted like a toddler once, so I really don't know what the point of drawing the poor guy like this even is)

-An argument I saw against Susie x Lancer was how "they've never acted romantic with each other" All I have to say in regards to that is how they've literally known each other for roughly 2 DAYS (+ Toby seems to want to make Suselle canon). I can't get behind how people think that love can blossom over such a short period of time. Not everyone believes in 'love at first sight,' and I'm one of those who don't. Crushes, yeah, but they are usually short-lived and always shallow. What we learn about Lancer is that he values sincerity and is very sincere himself (as we can see when Kris tries to compliment him twice) Plus, Susie never had any friends prior to Lancer, so jumping from friendship to romance just like that would be not only bad writing, but also unrealistic. The very reason I love Lancer is how there's no sudden romantic subplot linked to him, like Noelle's obsession with Susie and Ralsei's crush on Kris (I find both of these ships toxic as hell, but I don't want to talk about them here). Just to add something here: despite not moving any romantic subplot forward or being associated with one, Lancer isn't unfamiliar with the concept (as seen in CH2 when he calls himself handsome and admits to 'having fallen in love'). I honestly think that, much like Papyrus, Lancer isn't linked to any kind of romantic subplot simply because he's the comic relief, so it would affect the comedic part of his character

-Why is everyone complaining about this ship, but not a literal child (Frisk, who most people see as 8-12 years old), going on a date with an adult skeleton, Papyrus? (at least, people usually percieve him as a young adult, but he could also be a teenager) Either way, it isn't a small age gap. Also, why is Frans such a popular ship even though one character is a child (Frisk) and the other clearly an adult (Sans)? You could argue that Frisk's age hasn't been confirmed, and skeletons don't age because they're undead, but still, Papyrus and Sans were not introduced as, you know, skeleton boys, and yet somehow both ships are acceptable, but Susie x Lancer isn't? Not just that, but people age Frisk up when it comes to the Frans ship and there's far less hate for it than the ship that isn't even pedophilic?

-People are also totally fine with ships like Dipper x Wendy (Gravity Falls), Aang x Katara (ATLA), Toph x Sokka (also ATLA), Spike x Rarity (MLP:FiM), and such. There is a clear age gap in all of these pairings, but they're not seen as problematic in any way

-I bet that, if Ralsei had a childish personality, or literally any other character, they'd also be seen as a kid/toddler. Even a baby for some reason? I don't understand this. The way people perceive Lancer, when it comes to both height and personality, is completely different from how he acts in the game. Sure, he's loud, flamboyant and obnoxious, but also chill and sarcastic. And sure, Lancer does have the tendency to act dumber than average, but THAT'S THE POINT of a character who's a COMIC RELIEF

-"But King doesn't allow Lancer to say tier-two swear words!" Neither does Greg from Steven Universe, and Steven was 14. You know, a teenager. In case people are curious about which episode I'm talking about, it's "Beach City Drift". Basically, Greg doesn't allow Steven to say words like 'hate' and 'creep'. That's even worse than not allowing your teenage son (who is still a minor and therefore you still have authority over him) to say tier-two swear words!

-"Why does King make his people take care of Lancer if he isn't a little kid or allow him to eat from the Dark Candy tree?" To make sure he's acting like a proper prince and not the goofball he is deep down, if you ask me. And because he doesn't take the poor guy seriously. As for the Dark Candy; once again, eating sweets isn't considered 'princely' and, as I mentioned above, Lancer is still a minor, so King still has the authority to tell him what to do and punish him in whatever way he wants (having to take a shower every time he reads a swear word, possibly being starved, according to a few lines, and even being emotionally and physically abused). Emotionally, in the sense that King belittled him, made him feel worthless, ignored whatever Lancer had to say and used him in a manipulative way to achive his goal of serving the Knight (the first two points are guesses, while we saw the other two on screen). Physically, based on the fact that he becomes worried when he realizes his friends and his dad are gonna fight. I have no doubt that King was phyiscally violent towards him at least once, considering how terrified Lancer is. He knows what King is capable of because he himself experienced his wrath. I see Lancer's upbringing as that of a lonely, overprotected person, who's also royalty. There are a lot of examples of this type of upbringing, whether we're talking about real people or fictional characters (like Rapunzel, for example)

-Zuko from Avatar: The Last Airbender took over the Fire Nation at 16. This makes sense. I don't imagine Lancer being much younger when he took over the Card Kingdom

-"The reason why the guards obeyed Lancer when he told them to imprison Kris, Susie, and Ralsei is that King made them obey his every order!" Then why can Lancer make his own laws (+ he knows what the word means, which wouldn't be the case if he were too young) without asking RK for permission, and why do Lancer's people listen to him without complaining when he orders them not to attack/kill us at the beginning of CH2 (if we attacked the Darkeners in CH1)? King isn't in charge anymore, so it's not out of fear. They all clearly grew to respect Lancer and his authority. They wouldn't respect a child like this

-"In the stream, Toby said Lancer is a boy!" So what? We've got Ralsei, who people call 'fluffy boy,' and Susie, who's known as 'purple girl'. I bet Berdly and Noelle would also be known as 'bird boy' and 'reindeer girl'. Even Lancer refers to Kris, Ralsei, and Susie as 'boys or girls' In the same stream, when they got to the part where we first meet Lancer, someone said something along the lines of "Now it's time to replace the fluffy boy (Ralsei) with another boy (Lancer)" In other words, they're both referred to as boys and therefore must have similar ages. Yet SOMEHOW it's acceptable to ship Susie x Ralsei but not Susie x Lancer

-The Fun Gang (Kris, Susie, Ralsei, Lancer, Noelle, and probably Berdly too) is their friend group, right? It wouldn’t make sense for the five of them to be teens, and for Lancer to be the only one who’s a child. Deltarune is clearly a story about teenagers finding their place in the world

-King wouldn't have trusted a child with something as important to him as destroying Lightners

-The Jack of Spades (the card which Lancer represents) is associated with a young man, not a child

-The thing I absolutely can't stand is how people who headcanon Lancer as a little kid act like their headcanon is canon and somehow think that 'they're right while others 'are wrong'

-Him not understanding what a 'mom' is, if we really want to look too deep into this (which I doubt we should since Toby's characters are often comically exaggerated and act sillier than 'normal'), could have something to do with how Darkeners are created in the first place. We don't know anything about them if you think about it. Whether they are 'born' or not, or if they even age. Maybe everyone in the Dark World will always remain the way they are physically. We don't know yet

-Queen adopting him in order to take care of him makes sense, considering he is, you know, a minor. Saying he doesn't need a mother figure is like saying Kris doesn't need Toriel

-In the live stream I mentioned earlier, the team talked about Lancer's original concept art, and announced how he was originally going to ride a motorcycle (making him 16). I don't imagine that they'd age him down from 16 to, let's say, 10 years old ↓

-Another thing that might contribute to people seeing him as a "little kid" is his design. What I mean by this is how Lancer's "eyes" (if that face he made was canon and not just a meme) are not in alignment with the eyes of, let's say, Kris and Ralsei. I'm certain this has to do with his species (the spade he has for a head isn't a hoodie but a part of his body; I came to this conclusion after I saw how he can move the top part of his head up and down when he's happy/sad, kind of like what a dog does with its ears). And, let's imagine for a moment that the rest of the gang were the same species as Lancer; they'd all be the same height then, if we apply logic here. They'd also all be the same height if everyone were a human/goat/dino. In other words, Lancer is of completely average height for a spade. There's this logic going on in the fandom that, since Lancer isn't that tall + is goofy + isn't skinny, he's a little kid. But if he weren't chubby or immature, even if he remained on the shorter side, I 95% believe he'd be drawn normally, just like Kris is drawn

-I'm no good at math and numbers, but let's try to think logically once again. In Berdly's flashback, he and Noelle are seen participating in the spelling bee, making them 8 years old (that's the youngest kids can be in order to participate). In the present moment, they're roughly twice the size they used to be back then, right? That would make them around 15 or 16 currently, because 8+8=16. The exact same comparison can be linked to Lancer. When he was 8, he was shorter than he is now, as a teen ↓

-Also, here's a comparison of Monster Kid, Frisk, Sans, Lancer and Kris. It's clear, looking at the image below, that the first two are children, that Sans is a simply short adult, while the last two are teens ↓

-In the stream, Toby showed us some more concept art for Lancer. In this particular picture, we can see that he used Kris' height to design Lancer. Since we know Kris is a teenager, that must mean that Lancer is one too ↓ 

-Why does everyone think Lancer is younger than Susie? He could be older than her, but we don't know it, and probably never will because ages in UT were never canonized either

-"But Lancer looks up to Susie so he must be a lot younger!" I once again have to draw parallels between two fandoms. In Kung Fu Panda, Po looks up to Tigress even though they're on the same team and have similar ages. There's nothing weird about looking up to someone, whether they're older, younger, or the same age as you. Lancer idolizes Susie because she's tough, tall and physically strong (I repeat, it's all because of her species and NOT because she's older). Her age has nothing to do with her physical appearance

-Also, why do people think that when someone says 'I ship these two characters,' that automatically means they want them to do something sexual? Ships can be just romantic and sweet, you know?

-During the sleepover after chapter 2's pacifist route, Susie mentions how cool it would be if Ralsei and Lancer could come to visit the Light World and explains how Ralsei could be mistaken for Kris' cousin, as well as how Lancer would live under Kris' bed. Right after this, she excitedly says how all of them could walk to school together and be an unstoppable team. This is proof that all four of them are not only high schoolers, but also that the age gap between them isn't larger than 1 year (sophomores are between ages 15-16, so that would mean that Lancer (and probably Ralsei) is 15, while the other two are either 15 or 16). They must be sophomores because Catti has a job (Berdly too); you have to be 16, at least. Maybe 15. But definitely not younger than that. Again, no pedophilia here

-A little theory I have is that, in the end credits of the final chapter, we'll finally get to see Lancer riding a real motorcycle, but that's just what I'm hoping to see, and it may or may not age well. This would mean that he would have turned 16 by the end of the game

-Typical teeage behavior ↓

-And, most imporantly, THE TIME THE GAME ACTUALLY DEBUNKED IT. Now, I don't know how many people actually payed attention to this little moment (I found it on accident) ↓

Let's break this down into a few segments to understand it better: Lancer challenges Kris, Susie, and Ralsei to a race to their new rooms. Instead of saying "the last one there is a rotten egg," he, for the sake of the comedy and his unique speech pattern, says "the last one there is a fresh and fragrant egg" We can say that there is no deeper meaning behind this particular choice of words, but to me, a "fresh and fragrant egg" represents youth (adolescence).

Ralsei asks him why he's standing if they're supposed to be racing, and Lancer replies with: "I wanna be the egg!" According to my interpretation, he's trying to say how he wants to be "the loser," "the failure," "the underdog," or something similar. In other words, he wants to be the last/the worst.

Finally, he adds: "You won't get through your teen years without at least one Egg." Whether this is referring to how he wants to experience failure/ being the loser and finds it to be an important/essential part of growing up, or maybe there's some other meaning behind being an "Egg," it's clear as day now that he's a teenager. Any of them (Kris, Susie Ralsei, or Lancer) could have been "the egg" in this race if they had ended up last. We know that the other three are teens, and if Lancer is saying how he wants to experience being "the egg," and associates it as an essential part of being a teen, that means he's in the same boat as the others and is also a teen. "One Egg" is probably linked to failure as well, so if we translated the dialogue into a non-metaphorical one, it would go something like this:

"The last one there is a loser!"

"I wanna be the loser! You won't get through your teen years without being the loser at least once!"

So yeah, that's all the reasons why Lancer is NOT a little kid. Thanks to anyone who read all this. And if you're still gonna be a hater, then ok. Waste your time insulting random people on the internet and make them feel terrible about themselves for having an opinion (though, it's not even an opinion after the final point) about a work of fiction, instead of enjoying the things you want to enjoy and minding your own business

P.S. I may have forgotten to mention a few more arguments: 1) Lancer is strong enough to carry Susie's entire weight on his back/head; what little kid could do that? 2) Lancer's attacks are numerous and strong enough to make SUSIE, THE PHYSICALLY STRONGEST member of the team, FLINCH. 3) At the hospital, Rudy mentions something about Noelle playing a "children's" game, I think it was in ch2, gotta go check, but the point is, Rudy (and Queen, by calling them children a few times) considers these teenagers to be "children" Which honestly makes a lot of sense since they're all still under 18. 4) There is not a SINGLE "little kid" in this entire game. Let's see here... we have Kris, Ralsei, Susie, Noelle, Berdly, Temmie, Monster Teen, Snowy, Catti and Jockington... who are ALL 'big kids' (teenagers). And you're trying to tell me the only person who's 10 years old is Lancer?? Get outta here. 5) It makes sense that Deltarune is about teens. Why? Because it is supposed to be a 'more mature' game than Undertale. Teenagers go through all the stuff DT characters go through (family problems, depression, loneliness, crushes, feeling clueless about who you truly are etc.) Lancer has family problems, he used to be lonely, and he was completely misguided because of his dad. Typical teenage problems he's experiencing here. 6) I don't expect a kid who's 10 years old or less to be into motorcycles. That's logically a teen thing. Otherwise we'd see him ride normally on a bicycle with a helmet on, just wanting to play, like, you know, a child. 7) Oh yeah, and Toriel mentioned something about Susie being a bad influence on Kris, so there's that. Lancer and Noelle ("I wish I could do crazy stuff like you...") willingly look up to Susie, while Kris and Ralsei are unwillingly influenced by her (at least, Ral was). This is called *peer pressure* Because they're all teens. But Susie's dominant. So... yeah.

Anyway, I don't care what people ship. I'm fine if you hate susancer. It's not for everyone. What DOES piss me off so much though is the lack of respect Lancer gets, how he's treated as this "bouncy little pumpkin uwu" despite being one of, if not, the most useful character in the game plot-wise so far + a great comedic relief. I'm sick of him being drawn and treated as a toddler. So sick of it.

I get that the kids in the fandom still lack critical thinking, but older teens and adults, too?

In any case, I'm signing off for real this time. Thanks for reading.

[peqaches]

Good Intentions, Terrible Executions

Chapter One : Mid-Autumn Festival

Content Warning: This story contains harassment, stalking, cursing, sex, and depressive thought and/or actions. If you relate to any of these please seek help from a professional. Further more, the reader is plus size and trans. If you don't like it then don't read it, but please do interact with it so it reaches more people!

The fall season is always busy in the city where he currently lives, especially right before the Mid-Autumn festival (or Moon Festival). He doesn't necessarily celebrate the holiday, being a demon, but with the town bustling with so much life he's sure to find entertainment outside of the Monkie Kid's usual antics right? Well, as it turns out, his assumption was very wrong. The people of the city are focused on preparing for the festival, and aside from the rather unimpressive human entertainers in the streets, he found nothing of real interest until he saw him. The glance had been brief but the sight before his eyes caught his mind in a swirl of feelings that he desperately wanted to ignore. The sight in question was, well, you. You were just carrying some boxes full of decoration and goods for the bakery where you work but to him you were stunning. The way you spoke through your huffs as you lug box after box off the truck inside where your coworker is unpacking items and putting things away had his heart beating fast for some reason or another. This intriguing reaction made him start to think. You seem familiar somehow, like he's seen you before, but he can't put his finger on where or when it was. Then, as he sees you smile with every tooth bared in a chorus of joyful laughter, it suddenly clicks. You had visited the theatre, only once, but your reaction to his shadow puppets as they told the story had him mesmerized for that short period of time. With this discovery he decides to linger for a while to see if this 'spark' he's feeling is something real or just an illusion his loneliness is projecting into his subconscious. After all, he doesn't want a repeat of what happened between him and Wukong, even if they are slowly working it out. "Hey, are you sure you'll be okay walking home alone? It's late you know." Your coworker's voice brings him out of his thoughts to the realization that he spent the whole afternoon following you around at work and watching you from the shadows. "Thank you for your concern, but I'll be fine." You reply with a kind smile, putting your satchel bag on your shoulder and walking home alone in the dark night. This can't be good. Is his first thought as he keeps on your heels, hiding in your shadow in case something happens. However, as he does this, he reaffirms himself that it's not because he particularly care about you, no, he's just being kind. It's something he's surely picked up from hanging around Mk's group of friends for too long.

Despite his best efforts to ignore these sudden feelings he finds that the longer he lingers the stronger these feelings grow. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. They seem just fine on their own. He admits after following you to a crossing light that's just a few blocks away from your home. With that he begrudgingly leaves your shadow to return to his 'lair', or rather that's what he'd like to call it if his 'lair' weren't a poorly made nest in the rafters of the shadow theatre where he works part time. What are you thinking Macaque? How could that measly human entertain you? Their life is so...mundane and boring. Not really the thing you find entertaining. He scolds himself, laying back in his 'nest' to try and relax, but no matter how he tries his thoughts trail back to you. You're losing your edge bud... He finally sighs, closing his eyes to relent to a dreamless sleep. ☾ ☾ ☾ The next day after work he returns to the bakery, silently searching the staff for you to ensure that you really did make it home. To clarify, it's not because he cares about you, he just doesn't want the weight of your absence on his shoulders.

"So, how was your night? Did you make it home okay?" One of your coworkers asks you while you're kneading some dough for pastries.

"Yeah! My night was pretty quiet when I got home." You reply, smiling at them in a way that makes his heart pang with irritation, "Oh the bright side, I watched some Dinosaur Planet on Netflix and ate some dinner!" "When you say 'dinner' you mean two sandwiches and chips while drinking blackberry wine, right~?" Another coworker chimes, her smug grin setting you off on a tangent about how creepy it is that she stalks you on your Instagram and Snapchat.

"Max, for the last time, stop calling me out. I will eat whatever I want in the safety on my own home." You huff at her with a smile, playing along with the moment until she winks at you and you flush from the implications of her behavior. He watches this interaction with a deep frown. He shouldn't care if someone else makes you blush and smile, but, despite his deep denial of the feelings in chest, he can't shake how it rubs him the wrong way. This is ridiculous. He thinks, rolling his eyes as he watches from the shadows. He's far more charming than this Max-person and he could give you so much more than they ever could. However, in order to do that he would need to interact with you, ask you out, be there for you, and put in the effort to 'woo' you. He'd do it solely out of spite, of course, because he has no real feelings for you. It would simply be for entertainment purposes.

"Oh yeah, I don't think I've asked you this yet but what's your, uh, sexuality? Like do you date girls, guys, enbies, oh my gosh are you t4t? That would be super cute!" Your coworker, Max, grins at you while you roll your eyes at her.

"You have asked me before, but I'll tell you again anyways. I'm Pansexual, but I prefer guys and I'm Demisexual so we have to know each other longer than a few weeks for me to catch any feelings, Max." Your smug expression towards her makes his heart beat just a bit faster.

"So I do have a chance then~?" She asks slyly, slinking around the counter to brush up against your side.

It immediately irks him that she's that close without your permission, but what another one of your coworkers does has him fuming. "Oh Max," The male grins, getting between you and her with a small grin as his big warm hand touches your lower back in a comforting way. "You don't have a chance in hell with them. They already stated that, so you need to back off a bit, hun."

Max pouts, her arms crossed as she backs off and goes back to work. It should have relieved him that the main cause of his discomfort has left you alone, but the ginger haired man now standing at your side has his every nerve boiling. That better not be who I think it is. He scowls, watching the two of you interact happily now that Max has returned to her work. Your smile is bright and your cheeks are flushed as you chat it up with this new threat to his plans.

"Thanks for that...I can never get the courage to tell her off." You whisper once Max is out of earshot, your hands going back to your task once more.

The new coworker smiles fondly, lingering beside you a moment longer before replying as he returns to his station. "It was nothing. I know it can be hard to reject people you have history with."

He doesn't like how nice this guy is to you. Especially with how familiar his voice is. Maybe I'm imagining things. He tries to reason with himself, pushing back his jealousy to quietly watch you work. You're good at your job, working quickly with skilled hands that move from project to project with ease.

By the end of the day he's gotten a better grasp of who you are, but in doing so he's also fallen deeper into the gravity that's keeping his attention on just you. It's not that he has feelings for you though. He's instead reasoned with himself that he's just...being over protective like any friend would be, even if you aren't friends yet.

"Goodnight everyone, be safe on your way home!" You call over your shoulder, once again walking out into the night by yourself.

He's just about to follow behind you when the ginger from before jogs to walk by your side. The sight makes his blood boil again. Who does he think he is being so touchy with them? The thought makes his blood freeze in an instant as the idle ideas of becoming friends with you shatter into a million tiny pieces. This is getting out of hand. He scowls, following you two anyways to make sure this friendly coworker of yours isn't pinning to do something to you while you two are alone.

"Well, this is as far as I go, friend, be safe okay?" Your coworker grins, waving as you cross the same crosswalk where Macaque had decided to leave your side the night before.

"Oh, goodbye then, be careful!" You smile back, oblivious to what is about to occur as you continue home.

As soon as you're out of earshot the ginger haired male turns around and makes direct eye contact with Macaque. "What are you doing, Macaque? Why are you following them around?" The glare being send his way makes him shiver.

"I could ask you the same thing, bud, since when did you have a passion for baking?" He asks back, grinning as he steps out of the shadows to confront the one and only Monkey King disguised as a human being. "Don't tell me you're getting even softer. That's just no fun~"

The irritated look on the king's face said it all. He's pushing a number of buttons that may or may not send their healing friendship spiraling backwards, but in this moment he can't help it. It's like an instinctive reaction to bite the hand that once fed him for the smallest hope that he could have you as a reward for discarding the past, and, though he's rather die than admit it, that small sliver of hope sends a strange warmth to bloom in his chest. A warmth he's willing to fight to keep.

"I have plenty of hobbies that you don't know about! Baking just so happens to be something I picked up recently!" Wukong huffs defensively, dropping his disguise as a human so that he may sit back on his summersault cloud.

That makes him laugh. "Hobbies? You do things besides eat, sleep, train Mk, and play video games that you designed? Let's face it, you don't have hobbies. You have a crush, don't you?" He sneers that last sentence, the male's scent making his nose scrunch from how obvious it is in showing his affection for you.

Wukong scowls in return, finding his scent not much different from his own. "You're one to talk. You reek of jealousy and I must say it's not a good look on you, bud."

Realizing he's been figured out he just scoffs, playing off his instinctive actions as nothing more than Wukong's territorial ideology, but the fluffing of his fur cannot be ignored. So, instead of furthering such a meaningless dispute he leaves, sinking into the shadows and going home to once again ponder over his actions with a disapproving scowl. Wukong is delusional. Why would I be jealous of him being friends with some human I just so happened to be watching? It's not like there's anything between us anyways! Despite his irritation he can't help but secretly wish it were him that made you smile and laugh and blush so openly.

[stargazer-sims]

Journal Entry 55 (part two)

Journal Entry #55 (part one) // STORY INDEX

Victor

To say I'm devastated by this latest development in Yuri's health situation would be a major understatement.

Logically, I know Dr. Kasongo is right. Given Yuri's history, it's not likely his challenges with food and eating will resolve without some sort of intervention. And I know the treatment plan she proposed is in his best interests, but the idea of him requiring a feeding tube is a reality I'm struggling to accept. It feels so much like defeat to me that just thinking about it makes me want to cry.

As awful as this may sound, it's kind of a blow to my own self-perception too. I like to think of myself as a protector, someone who finds solutions and keeps people away from harm, but this is a reminder that regardless of my desire to shield Yuri from everything painful or scary or sad, there are some things I'll never be able to protect him from.

As for Yuri, he seems oddly calm about the whole thing, which leaves me a little taken aback. I'd overheard him tell his mother he'd be okay with a tube, but I really hadn't imagined he was serious. I thought, when it came right down to it, this would be something he absolutely would not want.

I'll confess, being wrong in my prediction about Yuri's reaction is bothering me. On one hand, I'm glad he didn't seem overly upset or frightened by the prospect of having a feeding tube, but on the other hand, I feel ashamed for presupposing he would be. Like, I thought I understood him pretty well, and it's eye-opening to find out that might not be the case. There's a lot about his disability and how he copes with it psychologically and emotionally that I really have no clue about, and it's becoming obvious I don't comprehend the daily challenges he faces with his illness as well as I thought I did. Let me tell you, that realization is hitting me hard.

Maybe the most sobering thought of all is how much I've taken my own health for granted. I've always admired Yuri's courage and resilience, but seeing it now makes me question how I'd handle everything if I were in his place. I could barely cope with the pain of my broken arms or the inconvenience of my temporary vision loss. There's no way in hell I could keep going if I had a chronic illness like his, and I know I'd be a total wreck if some doctor said she wanted to cut into my belly and put a tube in there, and that all my meals would be liquid formula going directly into my stomach for the next three to six months.

Yeah, that's what Dr. Kasongo ultimately concluded would be the best option; a gastrostomy tube, or G-tube. I thought she might suggest going the least invasive route, which would've been a NG tube, which is the kind they insert through a patient's nose, but she explained that sort of tube is for short-term use only, like four weeks or less. She said there'd be a lower risk of infection with the G-tube, and because she thinks Yuri could be using it for up to six months, she wanted something that'd be safer for him and wouldn't interfere too much with his quality of life.

The drawback of that kind of tube is that it has to be placed surgically. I didn't like the idea of Yuri needing an operation, but Dr. Kasongo explained to me that it's not major surgery and that there shouldn't be anything to worry about. It's a routine procedure with a very small incision, she said, and it only takes half an hour to forty-five minutes, not counting time spent in the recovery area.

I wasn't all that reassured, and I think she could tell I was anxious, but I did my best to put on a brave face and thanked her for trying to lay my fears to rest.

She went on to tell me about what would happen after the procedure, too. Later in the day, once Yuri was fully awake and alert, a nurse would teach us how to prepare and administer the formula, and how to clean the tube, and pretty much everything to do with taking care of it. And then the doctor told me that if all went according to the plan, Yuri could go home the following day. That seemed hasty to me, but I didn't comment. After all, she's the doctor and she's done this loads of times. It's not up to me to question her professional judgment.

In the estimation of the doctor, it should only take a couple of weeks for Yuri to heal from his surgery. She said once the incision is healed, he'll be able to do most of the activities he was doing before, including — to my amazement — swimming. He won't be able to do any exercises that use the abdominal muscles extensively, but that's okay. We can modify his fitness routine.

It might not be obvious to everyone who first meets him, but Yuri is an active person. He's not hardcore like me, but when he's feeling well, he likes to go hiking, do yoga, skate, swim, dance and go snowboarding. I'm not sure if dancing and yoga are going to be particularly G-tube friendly, but as long as he can stay active, that's the main thing.

Also, I learned that he'll still be able to eat and drink normally with this type of tube, which I guess makes sense considering the goal is to slowly reintroduce him to eating. For the first couple of weeks, it's supposed to be formula only, and then we're supposed to add real food and decrease the amount of formula over time until he's eating like a typical person. I think it's probably going to be a battle, at least in the beginning, but Yuri seems uncharacteristically committed to the plan, so we'll see.

One thing that concerns me, which I haven't talked about with the doctor yet, is how all of this is going to impact our move. We'd been focused on other things that might've interfered with our plans, such as my recovery, and the ongoing legal drama with Ren, and possibly now more legal issues with Hana. I'm sure we both realized Yuri's health could be a factor as well, but for some reason, we've never brought it up.

But, here's the thing. The closing date for our new house is the eighteenth of May, and our flight is scheduled a few days before that. If Yuri's going to be doing his nutrition rehabilitation therapy for the next several months, the date of our flight is going to fall right in the middle of it. He can't interrupt his therapy, and even with Dr. Kasongo calling in a favour to get him on Dr. Kim's patient list, I don’t know how long he might have to wait for an actual first appointment. Plus, even if Dr. Kim could see him in May, I doubt we'd get referrals to a nutritionist and a psychologist back home quickly enough for him to just resume it seamlessly when we get there. Depending on what's involved, he might be able to do it remotely over video chat or something, but with a literal twelve-hour time difference between Japan and eastern Canada, I'm not sure if any healthcare professional here would be willing to go for it.

All of that is assuming he can even travel at all. If he can't, I'm really scared that we're going to have to be apart for a while because one of us has to be there to sign the papers for the closing on our house, and there's no way I'm missing my mom's wedding. What might end up happening is that I'll go home alone in May, stay there until after the wedding, and then come back to be with him until we can finally move to our new home together. Obviously that wouldn't be ideal, but it might be the only viable solution.

I decided I'd talk it over with Mom and Julian to get their thoughts. I'd need to tell them in any case, and break the news that they might not have a violinist for their wedding after all. They wouldn't be as concerned about their wedding music as they would be about Yuri himself, but they'd still need time to adjust their plans.

I made a mental list of who else I'd need to inform of this change in circumstances. Fortunately it was a short one, consisting of Yuri's boss, or maybe the HR person at his firm, and his parents.

Yuri's parents...

As if I didn't have enough on my plate, it fell to me to explain everything Mr. and Mrs. Okamoto. I didn't picture them taking it well, and unfortunately, I wasn't too far off with my guess.

Mrs. Okamoto seemed outwardly calm, but that was nothing less than I expected from her. She's not the sort of person who shows her emotions publicly. Somebody who knows her really well might know what to look for, but I'm not acquainted intimately enough with her for that. Judging by the way she was squeezing her husband's hand while I was describing everything to them, though, I'd say she was a lot less tranquil on the inside than she appeared on the outside.

As for Mr. Okamoto, he was clearly very upset, but he was trying his best to hide his feelings from me. I think he could've learned a thing or two from his wife about how to put on a stoic expression, because he wasn't doing a particularly good job of it. The way he hunched in on himself, and how his face got slightly red and the muscles at the edges of his mouth visibly tightened were almost an exact mirror of how Yuri looks when he's trying not to cry.

It came as a bit of a shock when it occurred to me that I could read my father-in-law's face and body language just as well as I can read Yuri's. I was even more stunned when my first reaction to his distress was compassion.

I mean, not that I'm an unsympathetic person, but up till recently I hadn't had that many positive feelings about my father-in-law. He'd never been particularly kind to me and showed every sign of not liking me, and I'll admit the dislike was mutual.

Up until my accident, I figured that's how it was always going to be. Or maybe it's got more to do with this recent serious flare-up of Yuri's illness than with my injuries, but whatever prompted the change, I'm not complaining or questioning it. It's been a relief, not being in a constant state of walking on eggshells around him. He's been much nicer to me lately, and we've been getting to know each other better, which is a comfort given our current circumstances.

Dr. Kasongo did Yuri's surgery this morning, and Mr. Okamoto came to the hospital to wait with me.

They put us in a nice waiting room with vibrant art on the walls and comfortable blue sofas to sit on. There were non-perishable snacks and a variety of teas, but neither of us had anything. I can't speak for Mr. Okamoto, but I was too stressed to think about matcha or spicy rice crackers. We sat next to each other on a sofa, engulfed in the most weighty silence of all time.

I thought we were going to pass the entire morning like that, but then Mr. Okamoto cleared his throat two or three times like he was trying to work up the nerve to say something. I turned slightly to look at him.

"Uh... are you okay?" I asked. It came out sounding shaky and weird, and I briefly wondered if somebody should be asking me that exact same question.

He raised his gaze to meet mine. Several heartbeats later, he said, "i owe you an apology."

I'm not even gonna pretend I wasn't shocked by that. Caught completely off-guard by the abrupt declaration, I stammered, "What? I mean... like, what for?"

He sighed and looked away from me again. "For a lot of things, if we're being perfectly honest. You're a good man, Victor. I'm sorry that I was too proud and too set in my ways to see that before now," he said. "I misjudged you without even truly knowing you, and I'm sorry for that."

"It's okay," I said, even though it kinda wasn't.

The truth is, his blatant prejudice, dislike and disapproval had hurt both Yuri and me, but Yuri especially, and I was not okay with that. Yuri and I have both been making an effort to rehabilitate our relationship with him, but trust and forgiveness are processes, and neither is achieved instantaneously just because somebody says sorry. He has a lifetime of broken trust to mend with Yuri, and although I've only known him for a few years, it feels like a lifetime for me as well. Maybe it's my proximity to Yuri and my love and empathy for him that makes it feel so personal, or maybe I'm just too sensitive. Either way, Mr. Okamoto's apology wasn't like some magic spell that'd repair everything in the blink of an eye.

Still, he seemed sincere, and I wanted to trust him. The trouble was, I had no idea how I was supposed to respond to this sudden outpouring of contrition from him. I said, "Live and learn, right?"

"Indeed," he said. "I think that was something I'd forgotten for a while. To live and learn. It was you and Yuri who helped me remember. The two of you, and your parents."

"How'd we do that?"

"No way in particular," he said. "Perhaps that's the most ironic part."

I was thoroughly confused at that point and had to admit, "I... kinda feel like I'm missing something here, Okamoto-san."

"Kenji," he said.

Again I blurted, "What?"

"My name is Kenji," he said, as if I didn't already know. "I think you've earned the right to call me that, and besides, we're family."

Dumbfounded, all I could do was stare at him.

"You're supposed to thank me," he prompted gently.

"Right. Uh... thank you." I dipped a little bow as best I could while sitting. "I'm honoured."

"It's fine if you're not comfortable with it," he said.

"It might take some getting used to," I told him. "But, I really am honoured. Back home, when we're adults, we pretty much just call most other adults by their given name, you know? I had to learn a whole new set of rules when I got here, so I get how big of a deal this is."

"I understand," he said. "I do a lot of business with people in North America, so I've had to get used to new social customs too. But, you've done very well, integrating into our way of life. I used to think foreigners could never do that."

"Because you thought we weren't willing to adapt?"

"That, and because some of you seem to think your way is superior," he said.

"Some people probably do think that," I agreed. "I don't. Just because somebody else's culture isn't the same as mine, that doesn't make it bad or inferior. Plus, it's interesting to learn new stuff. You know, to see things from other people's point of view."

He nodded. "That's something I learned from you and Yuri. To see things from somebody else's perspective. How else could the two of you come together the way you have if you didn't know how to be open to other ways of life and points of view?"

"I'm not sure I ever thought of it that way," I said. "I didn't fall in love with him because he's Japanese, and I didn't fall in love with him despite that either. I love him because... well, because he's Yuri. All I saw was him. And yeah, I do know we're different, but literally everybody's different from everybody else, so..."

"You see, that's something else I've learned from you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Something else?"

"Open-mindedness. Selflessness. How to love without prerequisites or conditions," he said. "I'll confess, I was surprised how much of that I saw in my son when I finally opened my eyes and started paying attention." He offered me a tiny smile. "Maybe he learned it from you as well."

"He already knew all that," I said.

"Perhaps," Mr. Okamoto said. "In my experience, Yuri has never been very good at putting other people ahead of himself. Neither am I, honestly. But he does it for you, even to his own detriment sometimes."

"Yeah," I said. "Sometimes I wonder if he understands his limits."

"I think he does," he said. "It's simply that there are people who become so important to you, people you love so deeply, that you're willing to ignore your limits for them. The downside, of course, is that you become more vulnerable to being hurt."

"I'd never hurt Yuri. Not on purpose."

"I know," he said. "That's not what I meant. My point was, Yuri trusts you so completely, he's willing to give himself just as completely to you without being afraid of getting hurt."

"Because he knows if I do hurt him it's not intentional, and I'll always try to make it right. I'll always protect him and take care of him," I said. "As much as anyone can protect another person, anyway. There's some stuff..." I let the sentence fade, because if I started talking about the reason why the two of us were sitting there in a hospital waiting room, I knew I'd end up bawling my eyes out. No way did I want to do that in front of my father-in-law.

"There are things no one can keep anyone safe from." Mr. Okamoto finished the thought for me. "No matter how much we want to."

"It's hard," I said. "Not being able to. And realizing I can't is just... I don't know. It doesn't matter that my brain understands I can't, 'cause it still feels like a stab to the heart. It still feels like I'm failing somehow."

He didn't respond to that right away, and a lull of several seconds stretched between us. The silence was less tense than when we were first shown into the waiting room, but it was little uncomfortable for me nevertheless.

Just when I was about to say some random banal thing to break the quietness, Mr. Okamoto did something unbelievable. Well, okay... by objective standards, it wasn't all that incredible, but it was nothing short of remarkable for him.

He put his hand on my shoulder.

"You're not a failure, Victor." He said it so softly that I might not have caught it if we hadn't been sitting next to each other. "You're extraordinary, in fact."

I looked up at him. "I—" I began, but language totally failed me.

"A man is only a failure if he stops trying," my father-in-law said. "Maybe he can't protect the people he loves from everything, but he hasn't failed unless he stops letting them know he'd move the Earth itself to keep them safe if he could." His voice dropped to a near-whisper again, "He fails if he forgets to tell them he loves them. But you... I think you'll never forget that."

"I hope I never will," I said.

"So do I," he said. "My son needs you."

"He needs you too." The reply slipped out before I even fully recognized the thought was in my head. I panicked for a second, fearful Mr. Okamoto would take it as a rebuke.

To my absolute astonishment, I saw tears in his eyes. "I know," he said. "I lost sight of that, but I'll do better."

I studied him for a moment, and he didn't shift his gaze from mine. Everything about his demeanour was earnest. I said simply, "I believe you."

He nodded, maybe more to reassure himself than to acknowledge my expression of faith in him. Then, he uttered three words that never in a million years would I have imagined him directing towards me.

"Thank you, Victor."

[starlsssankt]

and while I got the whole "let's think about the Darkling" thoughts tonight--

Baghra.

In short, "it's complicated," but I will totally be diving into more depth on how I see their relationship (canon, head-canon, it's all the same here!)

As I mentioned (quite a bit) in this head-canon post, life was incredibly hard, incredibly tragic, for Aleksander. And his mother.

Because I am a firm believer (and I know others will disagree with me) but if Demon in the Wood showed anything, it showed the point that Baghra loved her son. Would and did do anything and everything to keep him safe, to keep him alive. To give him a sense of worth that she probably didn't have...

Granted, it's been a bit since I physically read the books, but if I remember correctly, her upbringing wasn't good. Her mother hated she was Grisha and then with the whole shadows and killing her sister and all that, it became even more so? I know it's something to that effect, anyway.

So Baghra, I feel, saw the shadows she could wield as something... maybe not unnatural but different. Wrong, perhaps. So when Aleksander had the same gift, she didn't want to instill that doubt, that almost, IDK, self-loathing or whatever, into him. So she told him he was strong, that he was powerful (I know there was something to that effect when she was talking to Alina at one point...)

DitW also showed just how far Baghra was willing to go to keep them both safe. To keep them both alive. And I do firmly believe that Aleksander knew that. Knew some of the lengths (probably not all of them, but definitely some, and he probably put more pieces together as he got older) that Baghra went to in order to keep them alive.

And then, as time went on and on, as they lived through lifetimes, it became clear that there was no one else like them. In a way, that made their relationship strained even more, and while the love might have existed still, even until the end, that whole "fine line between love and hate" and I mean, if I think of the Mikaelsons in TVD, like... being with only a few others (in TVD's case) or just ONE other person (in GV) for so long-- It's going to strain the relationship.

Aleksander went deeper and deeper in his pursuit of "making life better" and Baghra feared for him. Maybe, I think, a part of her feared him and how far he'd go, how much of himself he'd lose, but I think ultimately, it all stemmed from that core I love my son and I want what is best for him.

Was she a perfect mother? Hell no, but then, almost no character (or mother) ever is. (And let's be honest, perfection is boring when it comes to literature and whatnot because EVERYONE is flawed in some ways.)

But I do not think she was a bad mother, either. She was as human as Aleksander was, both of them with their own (very, very heavy baggage) of numerous lifetimes spent on the fringes of society, etc.

So by the time we meet both of them in the Grishaverse series itself, they've been alive for hundreds of years. Baghra even longer, of course, just by generational differences, so of course they're strained. Downright at each other's throats in some ways, and they act against each other.

By the time we meet them, you have to remember all of that. I think readers do a disservice to both characters if you don't.

Baghra, ultimately, loved her son and would do anything to save him. And Aleksander, ultimately, loved his mother and grieved the loss of her. (Let's be honest, they could have murdered each other at any point if they truly, truly hated each other, but they didn't because-- family, only ones like them, the death of one brings about utter loneliness for the other, etc. etc.)

So yeah, the short answer when it comes to this particular dynamic: It is VERY complicated. And the longer (summarized) answer: Immortality will wear down anyone and anything, no matter how much love and loyalty exists.

Yeah, okay... I'll stop on this one now, too.

[quincyhorst]

Rose Griffon HCs: Laurent Pérec.

A small collection of few ideas I had for Laurent. You might have seen few of them hinted back on these two posts.

...This took longer to post than what I've originally intented, I'm sorry 😭 Either way, hope you like it. ☕🍰

(And reminder, any post-FFI headcanon here is AFTER the 36-0 Ogre match)

Despite his young-looking face and short height, Laurent is actually one of the oldest Rose Griffon members, being soon 15.

When it comes to his profile, it is mentioned he likes to visit outdoor cafes, and spend time observing the sorroundings while sitting on the terrace. It's also interesting to mention one specific profile mentions he's part of the "Café society"; meaning he's a constant visitor of trendy stores, and probably has some contacts within the high social classes. (Probably)

Overall, we could say that his usual visits earnt him quite the reputation, so much so that he's considered often as a symbol of luck to the place he visits, even if he doesn't do anything significative in the time spent there. Most times he'll ask for a simple cafe, a cheesecake or few times some macarons, and that's all. Maybe you'll catch him reading one of his favorite books or looking around and observing the parisian people, but ironically despite the social nature of cafes you'll never see him sitting with someone else.

Laurent is reserved overall even at his (high class) school, so barely anyone knows anything from his life outside of the cafe visits... Or that's what it seems.

Besides belonging to cafe society, Laurent's fame is also attributed to by his own mother, who is an editor at Cerise Magazine, a renowed parisian fashion magazine. Many famous designers, models and other important people on the industry have left their print there; including rising young stars like Ronny Weiss. However while he doesn't have a negative view of the industry nor the magazine itself (He likes to read it in secret), he'd rather not have anything to do within its pages.

This can be unfortunately traced to Laurent's rocky relationship with his mother, as she has a rather strange fascination with his appearance. Not something fucked up; but she considers her son's beauty a blessing and she does not want it to go into "waste". She herself is pretty much the reason of Laurent's almost effeminate look, always choosing his clothes and styling his hair her own way. In her words, "He'll look even prettier this way".

And yes, she tries to encourage him into becoming a model for Cerise at any. Given. Chance.

...Truth be told, Laurent's issue is NOT with the femenine style, he enjoys presenting that way. But when others try to choose his future only based on looks, that's when things get uncomfortable for him. As a whole, he often feels like he's seen as a living porcelain doll rather than a human being.

Well, at least soccer does help him show a less delicate side of his. Too bad it flopped BAD in the Ogre timeline :(

...Family drama aside. A huge exception when it comes to his shyness are the owners of the cafes he visits. His relationship with them tends to vary between shop, but he's mostly in good terms. Though, their reasons of their treatment vary: Some are respectful to Laurent due to his mother's fame, others because of his beauty, others because of his own popularity... And a few just appreciate how gentle and kind of a person he actually is. His favorite coffee on Paris is Carrousel, a beautiful pastel pink store with the most delicious raspberry cheesecake known to man. Add to this a very respectful staff, and Laurent will constantly consider this place as a second home; where he can run away from inner stress and worries and just chill out.

In fact, Carrousel Cafe means so much to him, that in the future he decides to work there as a waiter, to the surprise of everybody. Mainly as a way to actually have a job and gain income for himself, mostly. Deep down he's afraid of not having a place on the world that isn't inside a fashion magazine.

Curiously, this store is located nearby the renowed Paris University 1.78, where the former french keepers Ladji and Émile currently study about in their respective interests. So, they tend to visit their friend every weekend and chill out together. I won't make this too long but Laurent feels very comfortable with them both. Maybe with Ladji a bit more...? No idea.

To end, here's an unusual HC I have for him: Within his hissatsus there's Toumei Feint, which turns the user invisible with the use of computer coding. Such technological hissatsu feels so odd for Laurent... Isn't it? Well, here's how I like to interpret it:

First off, when it comes to the "invisible" part of the move, I like the idea that because of mostly everything I said before about his fame, Laurent constantly wishes he could dissappear from others. So many fame is just too much to handle at times, and there's many occassions where the poor boy just becomes too uncomfortable to even bear it.

Also... Laurent being into coding and programming is a very funny idea for me, but I'm not sure to use it as an actual headcanon for his future. All I know is that he has an (estranged) older brother that works on the field. That's it.

[becauseanders]

Just because I am curious, why do you hate Arl Eamon? Lol

sorry i've been sitting on this for a bit, brain no work, lol

i am also sure others could explain this far more eloquently, and i know others already have, but also i do have a lot of feelings here so… (also i am terrible with tone in text so please know that i do just have a lot of emotions here and am at no point trying to come off as too over the top or aggressive or anything)

but anyway yeah, eamon "i am going to create a child who is so unloved and unwanted" guerrin is definitely not my favorite

i won't lie, i despise isolde far more for the fact she pretty much just hated alistair on sight purely for existing (i still scream every time she does the whole aggressive "what are you doing here" shit to alistair when you first meet her in redcliffe) while eamon was just a negligent pushover, but it still pisses me off to no end that eamon was charged with taking care of this child and then isolde came along as he was just like…nah, i'm good, i choose her, surely there will be no negative consequences to this child's psyche here (and i also find it a bit cringe that he would marry someone with so much disdain towards alistair to begin with; i mean who knows, maybe she hid that part in the beginning, but it very much has the same energy to me as when the kids hate the step-parent and the bio-parent just doesn't seem to care when they should 100% be putting their children first, if that makes any sense? and i get alistair wasn't actually eamon's kid and that it doesn't seem like he really had much choice about taking him in, but then how much of his own disdain was there already and how much more complicit in how isolde treated him is he? at this rate, would it maybe actually have been better if he'd never even tried to "raise" alistair?)

and the way alistair blames himself for the fact that eamon eventually just stopped visiting him in the chantry after they sent him away because he was sad and angry and acted out—which is honestly fair because he was a child who was straightup betrayed by his guardian—like eamon as the adult should be the mature one here, as alistair was, once again, a child… and yeah it was more on isolde as far as we can tell that alistair was just thrown to the wolves chantry to start with (the way "eamon guerrin bashing" was already an ao3 tag but i had to be the one to create an "isolde guerrin bashing" tag for my one alistair/warden fic is still wild to me, lol), but it really just bothers me so much that he met alistair's hurt and not knowing how to handle that hurt with basically just being like "okay i'm not wasting any more time here then bye"

i will also acknowledge there's potentially some fuckery here from bioware's continuity errors—eamon needing to hide his parentage because his existence coming as a result of king maric having cheated on queen rowan being in the da:o codex but then the calling giving us the background that rowan had already passed and fiona didn't want alistair to grow up burdened by the knowledge of his royal blood, which eamon then presumably went ahead and told him anyway since he still knew about it—so who knows how the story could have gone if they'd thought of the events of the calling earlier and if bioware could just be consistent about their own lore, but even with just the way alistair talks about his childhood in da:o alone i spent the game wishing i could end that motherfucker's life

long and short i just think the dude sucks and that alistair deserved better, and it is very much the guerrins' fault he may well never believe that

[casspurrjoybell-19]

Does it Matter? - Chapter 3 - Part 1

*Warning: Adult Content*   

Maric had done an admirable job of ignoring Dara throughout the day's ride, at least outwardly. Inside his head was a different story.

He couldn't stop running through every interaction they'd had, trying to piece together some puzzle that he didn't even truly understand the nature of just yet. 

Even after spending all day thinking about it, he still didn't know how he wanted to handle Dara.

Part of him insisted that he had to discipline the slave.

It didn't matter if his behaviour was intentional rebellion or just poor training.

He simply could not allow such disrespect.

So why couldn't he leave it at that?

Why had he spent all day grasping at alternatives?

Every interaction with Dara he'd had so far had only revealed more flaws and in the moment it irritated Maric that Dara wasn't being what he was supposed to be, yet some part of him objected to the idea of actually changing him.

He told himself that he didn't want to be wasting all his time and energy thinking about a slave of all things, that Dara had become a great annoyance but the idea of replacing him with a generic bed slave who would simply do his job held no appeal. 

In short, Maric had no idea what he actually wanted. 

Well, there was one thing he was sure of.

He wanted Dara, naked and flushed with pleasure, as soon as possible. 

Dara was still in the wagon when Maric went to find him when they stopped for the night at an inn.

He had laid his ratty old jacket out and he looked like he was trying to find some way to curl up on it in the small space. 

As Maric looked down at him, he found himself smiling.

"Oh, you think you're sleeping out here, do you?" 

Dara's startled eyes leapt to Maric and he opened and shut his mouth a couple of times before answering.

"I wasn't sure what you would want, your Highness." 

"I thought what I wanted from you was clear."

Maric tipped his head in the direction of the inn.

"Come on." 

Brayan was already talking to the innkeeper and making sure everything was as it should be, so Maric collected his room key and led Dara upstairs. 

After all the worrying he'd done that day it was almost a surprise when Maric locked the door to their room, turned around and found Dara waiting for instructions just as soft and timid as ever.

Perhaps he'd built the whole thing up too much in his head.

Dara could be more difficult than most slaves but he was far from wild and out of control. 

Maric wrapped his arms around Dara and pulled him close to his chest, dipping his head to breathe in his scent.

He exhaled a long sigh against Dara's throat.

"What have you been taught?" 

"Your highness?" 

"From what I understand you were in training, intended for me, until you were at least fourteen. You should have retained some of that but you're strangely lacking." 

Dara tried to lean away but he was stopped by the cage of Maric's arms around him.

Perhaps that had been unnecessary.

It was true but that didn't mean it was helpful.

Maric loosen his arms so that Dara could lean back enough to look him in the eye.

It was still odd the way he did that. 

"I, well..."

Dara's fingers twisted in the hem of Maric's shirt.

"You're right but after I turned fourteen and that was nearly ten years ago now... after that, I was more or less left to myself. I did jobs but I didn't have any training. I didn't have a master. Or, well, I did, of course but that was you and you..." 

"I wasn't there." 

Dara made a quiet sound in the back of his throat.

"The life I adjusted to was a very different one. I'm very good at taking a beating and not much else, I'm afraid." 

Well, now Maric felt guilty and a little annoyed that he felt guilty but mostly just guilty.

Dara had been tortured for years because Maric hadn't been there to protect him and now Maric had finally come along to rescue him only to gripe at him for not somehow managing to emerge from years of torture and neglect as a perfectly well trained slave.

As a prince he didn't have to be fair but he had always strived to be. 

"We're just going to have to work with what we have," Maric said as he began popping open the silver buttons on Dara's uniform shirt.

"And I'll be more than happy to do that." 

Dara was like a scared cat, Maric decided as he ran a hand over the bare skin of Dara's back and Dara pressed in against him.

Nervy and defensive until you found the right place to scratch, then as needy as any other.

At least while you were petting it.

If you walked away and came back to it two minutes later, it would be looking at you with as much suspicion as ever. 

Perhaps that was the best way to think of him generally.

A poorly trained and frightened animal wasn't being bad, it was just being.

Sure, training might be the solution but punishment wouldn't cure fear. 

In practical terms Maric wasn't really sure what that meant, though.

A pocket full of dried meat wouldn't fix this situation. 

Maric tugged Dara's pants and underclothes off and then raked his eyes down the slave's naked body.

Dara was just as hard as Maric and his fingers fidgeted at his side as though he were fighting the urge to touch himself.

Maric did it for him, a long, slow stroke that sent a shudder through Dara's body. 

Maric bent down, scooped Dara up, then carried him over to deposit him on the bed. 

Dara shifted further back on the bed, body propped up on his elbows, naked and vulnerable and aroused.

Maric took a moment to remove his boots but he left the rest of his clothes on as he climbed onto the bed to join Dara. 

Now that Maric was watching for it, the fear was clear in Dara's eyes as Maric pushed his knees up and apart.

He didn't try to pull away but his arms drew in against his chest. 

"Dara, relax," Maric said, rubbing Dara's knee.

"This won't be like last time. I know you're not ready to be penetrated." 

Dara nodded but he didn't relax. 

"Here."

Maric gave Dara's cock, which was now slightly less hard, a firm stroke and leant his face down towards it.

"I just wanted you in a better position for this, you see?" 

[bloodybusiness]

Well, it was true that he had enjoyed the reactions. The looks of internal panic, stumbled words, even an occasional disapproving gaze. There was no denying that there had been amusement but there had been a gradual shift. Teasing him over interests, both romantically and interests, setting him up on dates or at least trying to, quiet whispers with his wife over it...that had shifted to more direct comments. A flatter here, perhaps a crude compliment there, All from his point of view. "That's how it started. To be honest, I never thought about it much. Like I told Lee recently, the whole damned book of romance is closed for me. Supposed to be. Fact of the matter is, when you became a widow or a widower, you're not supposed to move on. And two years is a very short time for that." A lay here and there, that was the extent of his 'relationships' now. He could only imagine his former in-laws, scowling and whispering that he moved on too quickly. Only a few liked him well enough but it was a societal expectation. He would hear the words 'move on' a million times and probably still be judged once he did. Not that he would, not completely.

Hopefully that was an understanding Suresh would have. Not to be compared to his wife, not to be second-to or a replacement. But the fact she couldn't be replaced, not in the same way. Those memories would still be there. As would the drinking, the insomnia, the fact he despised cars. All remnants of that life that couldn't simply be filled in. Nick figured they wouldn't ever be, not fully.

It wasn't a fair question. If Suresh had suddenly switched to French, Nick would have fully understood. To hear rapid words thrown at him in anger. Instead, came the denial. One that was swiftly followed by a retort of anger and disbelief but Nick seemed content with just the first word. 'No'. He hadn't felt that. The devastation he no doubt felt had been entirely genuine. Nick's frame relaxed again, continuing on with the celery. "I had to ask. I believe you, but if I hadn't, I would have spent a life time wondering. Better to get the question out of the way now." It was one of the few that plagued his mind, the rest involving work. If anyone even suggested any sort of favourtism from Nick or climbing the ladder in any way on the part of Suresh, well...he'd just have to stamp them out one at a time. Some rumours, no matter how true, had to quickly be put to bed with the understanding that such things would not be tolerated. Something Nick would do unprompted for both their sakes and reputations.

There was an irritated noise as he let out a breath, the knife swiftly being set down before he turned to face Suresh with hands on the counter behind him. Shoulders rose up and down with a shrug. "Well, I'm just trying to give you the space you needed last night then got mad at me over." There was a definite hint of an accent coming through his words, a sign of letting walls down as he felt comfortable enough to even let the smallest about peak through. Fact of the matter was, he didn't know what Suresh wanted. Still hidden away partially inside that shell, like a turtle seeking protection. "The things you should know is you aren't a pity fuck. I also wouldn't just make a pass at an employee for no reason, you know how I feel about Syndicate members being...together. Third, I'm not lonely looking for a replacement. If I needed someone, I'd have them. Simple as that".

Suresh didn't think about the domesticity of the sounds in the kitchen. Of shuffling across floors and the sounds of coffee brewing. He didn't look back when he heard the snort. Instead rattling off, "For most adults, drinking a moderate amount of tea or coffee, about four or five cups a day, is fine and shouldn't be detrimental to your heart health. Atrial fibrillation has even been found to less over time with coffee consumption." He paused and then added, "You have your vices. I have mine. I can tell you what a moderate amount of alcohol consumption is if you are interested?" He knew that Nick wasn't interested in it. And he was almost positive he'd already told Nick that ages ago.

The sound of the knife on the cutting board was loud for a moment as Suresh finally made his coffee. "No one, including me, thought you were hitting on me. It was harmless teasing. And yes, I enjoyed it. From you." The jab at liking the attention had him making an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. It had made him feel special though. Like he was really apart of this exclusive group. "Here I thought you just liked my reactions." He finally brought the first cup of coffee to his lips and drank. Making a small noise of gratitude as he drank it. He made a small nod of his head when Nick said he didn't pity fuck. Good information to know. Nick calling himself a whore made Suresh snort and shake his head. The friend comment had Suresh firing back, "I get out plenty. I'm sorry you're disappointed in my choice. But you should have thought about that years ago."

Watching Nick's hands was something to at least look at. Since Nick wasn't looking at him. Which was fine. In some ways it was easier. He took another drink of coffee. -Your choice.- Like they were picking out what colour tie to wear. He would have answered that he didn't believe that anyone ever had all of anyone else. That wasn't possible. You were only ever known as much as you allowed. And as much as the other person could see. Suresh frowned at the 'this'. Putting the cup back on the counter and folding his arms across his chest. Waiting for Nick to say what he needed. His frown deepened and his mouth drew into a thin, furious line. He bit out the word as fast as he could, "No. Jesus fucking Christ." Logically he understood the question but he had a visceral reaction to it, lifting his hands to his face and balling them into fists at his sides. Nick could have punched him it would've hurt less. His voice nearly shaking with rage, "That is the single most offensive thing you've ever said to me. No. I was not happy or relieved when Adelaide died. Not in any way. Not now. Not ever." He paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to calm down, he reached up and rubbed one eye, trying to release the tension. "I understand why you needed to ask. But I would hope you know I'm not whatever monster you just imagined me to be."

He had to pause again trying to pull his thoughts together, "I've never expected or wanted anything from you that you didn't already give me. Not before the accident. Not after the accident. Because it was a simple truth in my brain that you didn't and wouldn't ever want me. It was sacrosanct. That's where it lived inside me. It was never real. Because there was no possibility. Until last night." He let out a long sigh. "Will you look at me please? Or am I supposed to have the rest of this conversation with your back?"

[ohallthecrushes]

Peter/001 growing obsession over you // Headcanons

A/N: This supposed to be shorter, I only wanted to see if I can write for him and...ah yes, I can. ^.^ My first headcanon about him.

Warnings: obsession and stalking 👀 Peter just can't stay away from you.

The first time he put his eyes on you, he was only merely curious about you. He didn't suspect that you would keep his attention, his full attention, for long. He thought that you'd turn out to be like the rest of them.

You see his hope for meeting someone he would like, someone lovely, understanding and caring had been pushed deep down his mind years ago. He found hope useless, he found it irritating and painful. He'd rather lived without it. But hope didn't disappear completely, Peter just barely noticed its presence anymore.

So he only thought about you with curiosity at first.

What were you doing in Hawkins Lab? What was your role here? Where you come from? What was your name? Did you choose to be here or were you prisoner like him?

He was watching you from distance, trying to find the answers to his questions. And the longer he was observing you, the more curious about you he became.

He started gathering information about you, like even the smallest details. And he kept everything he knew about you in his memory for a later use.

The way you gesticulated, the way you moved, the way you smiled at children even when they weren't so nice towards you. Your schedule, your routines, your habits, likes, dislikes... the smell of your perfume when you were passing by. Your beautiful eyes meeting his. Your rosy cheeks when he sent you a smile.

He was observing you like you were his own little mouse in the lab. He was creating a profile of you along with creating problems for you to solve. He simply was using his intelligent to come up with an experiment and set it up to see your reaction, to see if you could figure it out on you own.

It was still, not much more than killing the time in the lab.

Or at least that what he was telling himself.

But the way you occupied his mind even when he was resting, eating or keeping an eye on children... He couldn't ignore the fact that you attracted him strongly and it became harder and harder for him to keep himself away from you.

It irritated him that he could only do as much as he was allowed to. Interacting with you only when Papa or guards didn't see it, keeping any conversations short and brief. Not interrupting you with his constant presence...

He was limited and he hated this.

He wanted to test you, to understand you on a deeper level, to know what hid behind your eyes. Your secret thoughts, your dreams, desires, biggest fears, the reason behind every tear you shed, every scar you had.

He soon found himself in never-ending daydreaming abut you and what he could do to you.

His obsession grew strong and fast to the point that you noticed his intense stare and you felt disturbed by it. It was like he was stalking you and not being very discreet about it.

The plan to steal you from the lab so he could have you only to himself appeared in his head quickly and he decided to accomplish it without any hesitation.

He was determined to say the least.

The more time you spent in the lab, the more uneasy you felt. The whole experience wasn't what you'd thought it'd be and you often felt stressed and overused.

"Too much work and not enough play" as Peter said.

To be honest, he was the only person who understood you and brought you comfort when you needed it.

He seemed to genuine care about your well-being and he tried to cheer you up when you were sad. He was there to hear you out and give you advice. He was always telling you what you wanted to hear and he put up a protective shield around you.

With this kind of behavior it was easy to forget the creepiness and hidden reasons behind it.

Such a sweet and caring boy, wasn't he? He was just a little weird, you told to yourself.

You began to like him and trust him enough to reveal more personal stuff about your life and expectation you had from this lab-job.

And with that he could start a phase two.