#he's not gonna be a main muse by any means but there's a few characters i think i'd enjoy exploring his dynamics with...

[aletheialed]

CASUALLY ADDING YUUJIN TO MY MUSELIST.... AS A TREAT..............

[mcrdvcks]

Down Bad - Chapter 12

Chapter Summary: Amina has to fight to stay true to who she is, no matter what Palpatine or Darth Vader throw at her. But being in Imperial captivity isn't easy.

Word Count: 5.1k+

Pairing: Hunter x fem!Jedi Original Character

Notes: and here's chapter 12! sadly, we still have a few more chapters left of amina in captivity, but it's going to all come back around soon.

TW: torture (physical and mental, not heavily described), main character not in a great headspace (but no depressive, suicidal thoughts)

also, can we just talk about this scene!? it's so perfect i'm gonna cry.

Series Masterlist - Chapter 11 → Chapter 13

AO3 Link For Chapter

It was the third day she was on Mustafar and she hadn’t seen Vader since their last interaction.

Not that she was complaining, she was reading holobooks that were ‘approved’, meaning they weren’t educational, nor gave her any knowledge of what was going on in the galaxy.

She was reading a book on her datapad as she walked into the dining room and grabbed a glass of water. Amina sat down on one of the chairs and took a small sip.

Heavy footsteps could be heard as she continued to read her book, not paying any attention to Vader walking into the dining room. His presence, however, was hard to ignore in the otherwise silent castle on Mustafar.

"Amina," Vader's voice echoed in the dimly lit room, cutting through the stillness.

She looked up from her datapad, her expression guarded but curious. "Yes?" Her tone was neutral, though internally she braced herself for whatever interaction was to come.

Vader approached the table with deliberate steps, his cape trailing behind him like a dark shroud. His mask, an imposing presence, betrayed nothing of the conflict that Amina knew lay beneath its surface.

"I trust you are finding your accommodations suitable," Vader intoned, his voice a low rumble that filled the room.

Amina looked back down at her datapad. "As suitable as can be expected," she replied evenly, refusing to let him see any vulnerability.

"You have been here for three days," Vader observed, his tone almost conversational despite the underlying weight of his authority. "Have you reconsidered your position?"

Amina's jaw clenched momentarily before she replied, her voice firm. "My position remains unchanged." He stayed silent, his breathing filling the void of silence as he walked around her and grabbed something from a droid before standing across the table from her.

“You need to eat,” he said.

"I'm not hungry," Amina stated, her eyes fixed on the datapad in front of her, refusing to acknowledge Vader's presence more than necessary.

Vader stood across from her, his towering figure casting a shadow over the table. Despite the mechanical rasp of his breathing, there was a hesitancy in his demeanor that belied his usual stoicism. He placed a tray on the table between them, the clink of utensils against ceramic echoing in the quiet room.

"Amina," Vader began, his voice a low rumble, "you must eat. You need to regain your strength."

She glanced up briefly, meeting his masked gaze with a mix of defiance and weariness. "Why does it matter to you whether I eat or not?" Amina's tone held a note of accusation, a hint of the anger that simmered beneath her outward composure.

Vader paused, as if considering his response carefully. "Your well-being is... advantageous," he replied vaguely, his gloved hands resting on the back of a chair. "You are more valuable to me alive than... otherwise."

Amina snorted softly, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "So, I'm a 'valuable asset' now," she mused, her voice laced with sarcasm. "What happened to reminding you of your former self?"

Vader's masked visage betrayed no emotion, yet Amina sensed a flicker of something behind that impassive facade. "Circumstances change," he stated simply, his tone brooking no argument.

She looked down at the tray of food, her appetite nonexistent despite the gnawing ache in her stomach. "I'm not hungry," Amina repeated, her voice softer this time, tinged with resignation.

Vader regarded her for a long moment, his gloved fingers drumming lightly on the back of the chair. "You will eat," he insisted, his voice holding an edge of command. "It is not a request."

Amina's jaw clenched, her fingers tightening around the datapad. "And what if I refuse?" Her voice was a challenge, a daring defiance aimed squarely at the Sith Lord before her.

Vader's mechanical breathing seemed to fill the room, a constant reminder of his formidable presence. "You will comply," he stated evenly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

“I will not. You can’t force someone to eat when they haven’t had more than a small piece of bread for over 3 months.”

"You will comply," Vader repeated, his voice a low rumble that reverberated off the stone walls. His tone brooked no argument, carrying with it the weight of authority that came with being a Sith Lord. The plate with a whole muja fruit, her favorite, and a few slices of Haroun bread were Force pushed closer to her.

Amina met his masked gaze with unwavering determination, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I will not," she declared again, her voice tinged with both exhaustion and defiance.

Vader's gloved hand tightened into a fist, the leather creaking softly. "Your stubbornness will not serve you," he warned. “You will eat, Amina."

She shook her head, her eyes blazing with a fire that even Vader couldn't extinguish. "I won't be coerced into submission," she retorted, her voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions swirling within her. "Not by you, not by anyone."

For a moment, Vader seemed almost taken aback by her resolve, but it quickly passed as he lifted the muja fruit in the air and closed his fist, causing the fruit to splatter across the dining table.

The plate also shattered as a shard cut her palm. Amina let out a small sound, close to a squeak, as she felt fear run through her body and tears start to form in her eyes. She grabbed her datapad, blood smearing on the back of it as she ran to her room and locked the door.

As Amina rushed back to her room, the sting of fear and pain pulsated through her hand where the shard had cut her palm. She leaned against the door, her breathing ragged, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Her mind raced with a mix of emotions- anger at Vader's callousness, frustration at her own helplessness, and a deep-seated fear that seemed to clutch at her heart.

She sank to the floor, clutching her bleeding hand against her chest, trying to steady her breathing. The room felt oppressive, suffocating, as if the very walls were closing in on her. Amina knew she couldn't stay locked away forever, but in this moment, the safety of her room offered a fleeting sense of refuge.

Her datapad lay on the floor beside her, smeared with her blood. She picked it up gingerly, wiping it off on her pants, though the stain remained. It was a small reminder of the brutality of her existence here.

Tears fell down her face in rapid streams, as footsteps moved closer to her door and then stopped. She felt Vader’s presence behind the door, still strong as ever, as she tried to calm her breathing.

Amina had never been scared of Anakin- or Vader before. But something as simple as getting angry at her and crushing her favorite fruit with the Force scared her straight.

"Amina," his voice echoed through the door, its mechanical tone cold and yet strangely tinged with something she couldn't quite place.

Amina remained silent, her back pressed against the door as if it could shield her from his presence. She wiped tears from her cheeks with her uninjured hand, steeling herself against the fear that threatened to overwhelm her.

"I'm sorry," Vader's voice came again, surprising her. "I did not intend to frighten you."

The apology was unexpected, and Amina hesitated, unsure how to respond. She didn't move from her spot, her gaze fixed on the door as if she could see through it into the soul of the man standing on the other side.

"Why did you crush it?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, a mix of confusion and lingering fear evident in her tone.

There was a pause, Vader seemingly considering his words before he replied, "I... reacted impulsively. I was frustrated, but that is no excuse."

Amina took a shaky breath, her hand still pressed against her chest where her heartbeat pulsed painfully against her palm. "You've never scared me before," she admitted quietly, almost to herself.

Vader's presence remained palpable outside her room, a silent sentinel in the dimly lit hallway of his fortress on Mustafar. His mechanical breathing seemed to echo through the silence, a constant reminder of his power and the distance he maintained from emotions.

"Amina," Vader's voice came again, its tone softer than usual, betraying a hint of something she couldn't quite place- regret, perhaps, or even remorse. "I did not intend to cause you fear."

Despite herself, Amina felt a surge of anger mingled with fear. "Intentions don't change actions," she replied, her voice trembling slightly. She wanted to be strong, to stand up to him, but the vulnerability of her situation was starkly apparent.

There was a pause, as if Vader was considering his next words carefully. "I... reacted impulsively," he finally admitted, his voice carrying a rare note of admission. "I was frustrated, but that is no excuse."

Amina closed her eyes briefly, taking another deep breath to steady herself. "You've taken everything from me," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the castle's machinery. "My freedom, my family... everything."

Vader stayed silent, and soon after not replying, walked away from her door, leaving her alone once again.

---

On the fifth day of staying on Mustafar, Amina and Vader flew back to Coruscant. Once back in her cell, she used her spoon to mark five more days, making it 98 days in captivity.

She heard multiple footsteps approaching her cell as Amina turned onto her stomach before the stormtroopers entered.

Amina was used to it now, they would come in and torture her, but only whip and burn the backside of her body, never the front. Maybe they did have some humanity left in them, what other reason would they have to not look into her eyes while they torture her?

The door creaked open, the harsh light from the corridor slicing through the darkness of her confinement. Two stormtroopers entered, their white armor gleaming ominously in the dimness. They moved with practiced efficiency, devoid of any emotion or hesitation. Amina closed her eyes, steeling herself against the onslaught of pain that was to come.

Whips cracked through the air, accompanied by the hiss of a thermal device. Amina bit down on her lip, stifling the cry that threatened to escape her throat. She focused on breathing, on the rhythm of the strikes against her back, trying to find a sliver of detachment amidst the agony.

After what felt like an eternity, the stormtroopers ceased their assault. Amina lay still, panting softly against the pain that radiated from her wounds. But, instead of gathering their things and quietly leaving, one of them spoke, “on your back.”

Amina froze, her breath catching in her throat. She’d grown accustomed to their routine- whips and burns, but never on the front of her body. This new command filled her with dread, her mind racing with possibilities. The stormtroopers' cold, emotionless gazes bore into her as she hesitated, trying to summon the strength to comply.

"On your back," the trooper repeated, his tone mechanical yet insistent.

With a trembling hand, Amina turned onto her back, feeling the fresh pain of her wounds pressing into the hard surface beneath her. Her heart pounded in her chest, the fear of the unknown clawing at her sanity.

They approached her, instruments in hand, and she braced herself for the worst. The first lash hit, but this time it struck her lower stomach, and she gasped, unable to stifle the cry of pain that escaped her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on her breath, willing herself to endure this new torment.

The session was brutal, each strike sending waves of agony through her body. Amina's mind drifted, seeking refuge in memories of happier times, trying to escape the unrelenting pain. But the stormtroopers were methodical, their cruelty precise and unyielding.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they ceased. Amina lay there, panting, her body a canvas of fresh and old wounds. She heard their footsteps retreating, the door slamming shut behind them. The silence that followed was deafening, her own ragged breathing the only sound in the cell.

---

There were only a few times in her life when things got truly difficult. Too difficult that she couldn’t crack a joke or make a sarcastic, witty remark.

Those things were quickly taken away from her in the first few weeks she was here. But, when she was in front of Palpatine, she made sure to continue her remarks, if only to anger him further. Or, at least try to.

Amina was on her knees in front of Palpatine’s throne, her first daily dose of torture. The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing ominously across the cold stone floor. Palpatine, cloaked in black, sat upon his throne, his piercing yellow eyes fixed on her with a mixture of amusement and malice.

"You disappoint me, my dear Amina," Palpatine crooned, his voice a twisted melody that sent shivers down her spine. "Your resistance is futile. You cannot defy the will of the Empire."

Amina gritted her teeth against the pain, her muscles screaming from the strain of being forced into such a vulnerable position. She refused to meet Palpatine's gaze directly, instead focusing on a point just above his head.

"You were once a Jedi, a defender of peace and justice," Palpatine continued, his voice dripping with mockery. "And now look at you, broken and helpless."

Amina clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She had endured countless sessions like this, each one designed to strip away her spirit, to break her down into submission. But she refused to surrender, to let them extinguish the spark of defiance that still burned within her.

Palpatine gestured lazily, and two Imperial guards stepped forward, each wielding a shock prod. Amina braced herself, knowing what was to come. The crackling energy surged through her body, sending searing pain coursing through every nerve. She gritted her teeth, trying to stifle the cry that threatened to escape her lips.

"You see, my dear Amina," Palpatine's voice cut through the haze of pain, "there is no escape from the inevitable. You will serve the Empire, willingly or not."

Amina's breath came in ragged gasps as the shock prods continued their merciless assault. Her vision blurred with tears, but still, she refused to beg for mercy.

"Enough," Palpatine finally commanded, his voice echoing through the chamber. The guards withdrew, leaving Amina trembling on the floor, her body aching and bruised.

Palpatine rose from his throne, his robes swirling around him like a dark cloak. He approached Amina slowly, his yellow eyes boring into hers. "You have such potential, my dear," he murmured, almost tenderly. "If only you would embrace it."

Amina closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to look into his eyes and see yellow irises looking back at her, reminding her of Anakin burning on the shore as his own eyes turned yellow. Palpatine’s hands descended on her chin, forcing her head up. “Look at me,” he commanded softly. Amina’s gaze met his, filled with defiance but also a hint of resignation.

Amina clenched her jaw, refusing to dignify his words with a response. She knew the game he played- tempting her with power, with promises of control over her destiny. But she was no fool; she had seen what embracing the dark side had done to her brother, to the galaxy. It had brought nothing but pain and destruction.

Palpatine circled her, his presence like a shadow that threatened to engulf her. “Your spirit is strong,” he continued, his tone almost conversational. “But it is also your weakness. You cling to hope, to ideals long lost. You must learn to let go of such sentiments.”

A bitter laugh escaped Amina’s lips, startling even herself with its bitterness. “You mistake my defiance for weakness,” she retorted, her voice steady despite the fear and anger churning within her. “I will never serve you, Palps. No matter what you do to me.”

Palpatine’s eyes gleamed with amusement, as if he found her resistance entertaining. “You defy me now,” he acknowledged, his voice dripping with malice. “But you will come to see the futility of your defiance. In time.”

Amina’s breath caught in her throat as she felt a sudden surge of pain through her body. The shock prods again, their crackling energy coursing through her nerves, sending waves of agony radiating from every point of contact. She gritted her teeth, fighting against the pain, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her cries.

Palpatine watched with cold satisfaction as she endured the torment, his gaze unwavering. “You have great potential, Amina,” he repeated, his voice cutting through the haze of pain. “Do not let it go to waste.”

The shock prods finally ceased, leaving Amina trembling on the floor, her body racked with pain. She fought to catch her breath, her vision swimming with tears. But still, she refused to yield, to bow before the darkness that threatened to consume her.

Palpatine regarded her for a moment longer before turning away, his cloak swirling ominously around him. “Take her back to her cell,” he commanded the guards, his voice echoing through the chamber. “Ensure she understands the consequences of her defiance.”

The guards moved forward; their hands rough as they lifted Amina to her feet. She stumbled, weak from the ordeal, but her spirit remained unbroken. She refused to look at Palpatine again, her gaze fixed on the ground as they escorted her back to the darkness of her cell.

---

Days blurred into weeks as Amina endured the relentless torment of Palpatine’s interrogations and the cruelty of her captors. Each day brought new pain, new challenges to her resolve, but still she clung to the flickering ember of hope within her. It was all she had left- the belief that someday, somehow, she would be free.

In the solitude of her cell, Amina often found herself thinking of Hunter and the rest of the squad, like she always did. She could only hope that they rescued Omega before Hemlock took her away. That was more important than saving her; it would always be more important.

Amina looked at the wall that held 127 tally marks. A few weeks ago, Palpatine had his stormtroopers try a different method of torture with her, along with the shock whips, electroshock collar, and burning stones. Breaking bones.

While Amina’s had many broken bones throughout the Clone Wars, something about a stormtrooper on either side of her body, forcefully pulling and manipulating her arm was much worse than getting shot at by a clanker or falling out of the sky.

So, around the 115th mark, she started to use blood from the torture sessions to mark the rotations instead of her spoon, which she didn’t have the strength to use most days.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor outside her cell, drawing her back to the present. Amina pushed herself up onto her elbows, her muscles protesting with every movement. The cell door creaked open, and two stormtroopers entered, their helmets concealing their faces.

“On your feet,” one of them barked, his voice devoid of any humanity.

The command shocked her, they had never asked her to stand up.

Amina struggled to comply, using the wall for support as she staggered upright. The stormtroopers grabbed her roughly, their grip like iron around her bruised arms. She gritted her teeth against the pain, refusing to show any weakness in front of them.

They led her down the narrow, winding corridors of the Imperial facility, past rows of identical cells that housed countless other prisoners. Amina spared them only a fleeting glance, knowing the futility of seeking solace or companionship in this place. Each prisoner was a ghost, a shell of their former selves, broken and forgotten.

Finally, they arrived at their destination: a small interrogation chamber with a single durasteel table bolted to the floor. A cold chill ran down Amina’s spine as she stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of Palpatine or his sadistic interrogators.

One of the troopers pressed his blaster against her back, moving her closer to the table as she slowly got onto it.

The door opened again, as more footsteps entered. Two scientists strapped Amina down to the durasteel table, securing her ankles, wrists, and torso with leather belts, she gritted her teeth against the familiar wave of dread that washed over her. The stormtroopers stood guard by the door, their presence a silent reminder of her helplessness.

One of the scientists, a man with wearing goggles and a clinical demeanor, checked the restraints meticulously, ensuring they were tight enough to immobilize her but not tight enough to cut off circulation. His colleague, a younger woman with a grim expression, adjusted a control panel embedded in the table, activating various monitors and instruments that hummed to life with ominous purpose.

Amina's heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins despite her efforts to remain calm. She kept her gaze fixed on the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge the scientists or the stormtroopers. They were faceless instruments of the Empire, devoid of compassion or humanity.

The man looked over to her, “the Emperor decided to change things for you. You will be undergoing psychological conditioning.”

Amina's heart sank at his words. She had endured physical torment, but the idea of having her mind tampered with filled her with a new kind of dread. She fought to keep her fear hidden, knowing it would only fuel their efforts to break her.

The female scientist finished adjusting the control panel and nodded to her colleague. "We're ready to begin," she said, her voice emotionless.

The man turned his attention back to Amina, his fingers hovering over the controls. "This will be a series of sessions designed to alter your perceptions, your thoughts. You will find it difficult to distinguish between reality and the illusions we create."

Amina glared at him, her defiance still burning despite her fear. But she didn’t speak.

He pressed a button, and a wave of disorienting sensations washed over Amina. Her vision blurred, and the room seemed to twist and warp around her. She fought to hold onto her sense of self, to remember who she was and why she was resisting.

Images flashed before her eyes- scenes from her past, her training as a Jedi, moments of triumph and loss. She saw Anakin, her brother, before he fell to the dark side. She saw Hunter and the rest of the squad, their faces a source of strength and hope. She clung to these memories, using them as anchors to keep her grounded.

But the illusions grew more intense, more invasive. She saw herself betraying her friends, succumbing to the dark side, becoming a tool of the Empire. The images were vivid, almost real, and they chipped away at her resolve.

The scientists watched her closely, monitoring her reactions. "Increase the intensity," the man ordered.

The woman adjusted the controls, and the illusions became even more powerful. Amina's sense of time and reality began to fracture. She could no longer tell how long she had been strapped to the table, how many sessions she had endured.

---

The psychological conditioning sessions continued, each one more grueling than the last. Amina's mind was a battlefield, her willpower the only thing keeping her from succumbing to the illusions. She held onto her memories, her hope, and her determination to resist the Empire's attempts to break her.

One day, after a particularly brutal session, she was thrown back into her cell, her body and mind exhausted. She lay on the cold floor, staring up at the ceiling, trying to piece together her fragmented thoughts.

A soft knock on the cell door drew her attention. She turned her head to see a small, hooded figure slipping inside. The figure approached her cautiously, and as they drew closer, Amina recognized them.

"Omega?" she whispered, her voice weak.

Omega knelt beside her; her eyes filled with concern. "Amina, we don't have much time," she said urgently. "We have to get you out of here."

Amina shook her head, her body too weak to move. "You shouldn't be here," she said. "It's too dangerous."

Omega's expression hardened with determination. "I'm not leaving without you," she insisted. "The others are creating a distraction. We have a chance."

But something about what she saw in front of her was too good to be true. She reached out a hand and placed it on Omega’s shoulder.

It went through her.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t-

Amina curled in on herself, her body protesting against her position, the whiplash wounds pulling tightly against her skin.

The door to her cell creaked open again, as a figure stepped inside, silhouetted against the dim light of the corridor. Amina tensed, readying herself for another round of torment, but the voice that followed was familiar, comforting even amidst the darkness.

"Amina," the voice said softly.

She turned her head to see Hunter standing there, his expression a mix of concern and determination. His presence alone seemed to dispel the lingering effects of the illusion. Amina pushed herself up onto her elbows, her muscles protesting but her spirit burning with renewed hope.

"Hunter?" she whispered, hardly daring to believe he was real.

"Yeah, it's me," Hunter said, moving closer to her. He knelt beside her, his hand reaching out tentatively as if afraid she might vanish. When she didn’t, he gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. "We're getting you out of here."

Amina's eyes welled with tears, overwhelmed by the sight of him. "How did you find me?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

Hunter’s expression darkened slightly. "It wasn’t easy," he admitted. "But we knew you were here. We've been planning this for weeks."

She nodded, understanding the risks they must have taken to locate her in the heart of the Empire's stronghold. "Thank you," she said sincerely, her voice barely above a whisper.

Hunter’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. "We're not leaving without you," he vowed, his voice firm. "Tech's got a plan to get us out of here."

“No.” She cried quietly, “no, no, no, no, no…” Amina curled in on herself again. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

Tech was dead, it couldn’t be real.

Amina spared another glance at the cell door, the room empty other than herself.

---

She could hear Palpatine chuckling to himself as he watched Amina fight 5 Inquisitors on her own in his throne room.

Amina dodged a swing from one of them and slid underneath their legs.

As she slid underneath one Inquisitor's legs, she rolled back onto her feet, a lightsaber flashing to life in her hand. The crimson blade clashed against another Inquisitor's saber, the sizzle of energy filling the air with tension. Amina knew she couldn't afford to hesitate; every strike had to be precise, every move calculated to keep her opponents at bay.

"You fight well for someone so young," one of the Inquisitors taunted, his voice laced with a mixture of admiration and malice. He lunged at her again, but Amina sidestepped his attack, countering with a quick series of strikes aimed at his exposed flank.

She could hear Palpatine's low chuckle echoing through the throne room, his amusement at her predicament evident even from afar. It fueled her determination further. She couldn't allow herself to falter, not when the lives of so many depended on her survival.

Amina pivoted on her heel, parrying a strike from another Inquisitor and using the Force to hurl him into his companion. They collided with a resounding crash, momentarily stunned. It was her chance to press the advantage.

She leaped forward, her lightsaber spinning in a defensive arc as she engaged both Inquisitors simultaneously. Their attacks were relentless, each blow pushing her back towards the edge of the room.

In a quick move, she went behind the Inquisitor as he turned around, giving her the ability to twist his arm and take his lightsaber out of his hand.

Amina quickly knocked him down as he kneeled in front of her, the lightsabers creating an ‘X’ around his neck. Anger surged throughout her body, as she pressed the lightsabers closer to the Inquisitor’s neck, the heat singing his skin.

The other Inquisitors moved to stand up, but Palpatine waved his hand, silently commanding them to remain still. The room was charged with tension as Amina's grip tightened on the lightsabers, the heat from the blades causing the Inquisitor to wince in pain.

Amina's breath came in heavy bursts, her muscles screaming in protest from the extended combat and the months of torture. She glared at the Inquisitor kneeling before her, her anger barely contained.

"Kill him," Palpatine's voice was a silky whisper, filled with dark anticipation.

Amina's heart pounded in her chest. She glanced up at Palpatine, then back at the Inquisitor. The choice he was offering her was clear: give in to the rage and hate or hold onto the sliver of light that remained within her.

Her grip faltered, and the lightsabers trembled in her hands. "No," she said, her voice hoarse but resolute. "I won't become like you."

Palpatine's eyes narrowed, disappointment flickering across his features. "Foolish girl," he hissed. With a wave of his hand, the Inquisitor was pulled away from Amina, and she found herself lifted off the ground by an invisible force.

Pain exploded through her body as Palpatine squeezed his hand into a fist. "You will learn," he growled. "You will break."

Amina gasped, her vision darkening around the edges. But she refused to scream, refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead, she focused on the faces of her loved ones, Hunter, Omega, Wrecker, Echo. And even Luke and Leia. They were her anchor, her reason to endure.

The pressure suddenly released, and Amina crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath. Palpatine stood, his cloak billowing around him as he approached her. "Take her back to her cell," he commanded the Inquisitors. "And ensure she contemplates the consequences of her defiance."

Two of the Inquisitors moved forward, roughly hauling Amina to her feet. Her legs barely supported her, but she forced herself to stand as they dragged her out of the throne room.

tags: @callsign-denmark

[weregonnagetyou]

SHIPPING INFO // Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.

REPOST. Don’t reblog.

What’s your OTP for your Muse(s)?

Honestly I've had a LOT of good ships with Mia. The most recent OTP is probaby Mia and Freddy with @coptm. Sadly they've been taking a break from RP. But other good ones were with @brkbd and @buriedwith-blog. I also had a ship with a Kelly from AVED.

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?

Heck pretty much all of it. I love the fluffy stuff, the angsty stuff. I'll write the spicy stuff now and then but I suck at it. I just adore shipping and Mia loves all the flirty and physical stuff from it.

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

I mean I don't mind an age gap. As long as they both met when they were fully into adulthood and it's completely consensual. Mia is 26 and I don't see her going for anyone younger than 21. And 21 is pushing it for me. But I'm probably good with 10 years, maybe 15 years. Big age gaps don't make me uncomfortable unless like the older person knew the younger when they were under 18. That makes it weird for me.

Are you selective when shipping?

I can be. It just depends on how well Mia and the other muse gets on. I've ship her with some pretty random characters, like freakin young Magneto from xmen and Jesse from Breaking Bad lol. So when it comes for fandoms I am not picky. Mia's the type that would find someone she would want to bang from any fandom.

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?

When hands start going lower and the panting and moaning starts. It usually goes under a read more or a fade to black.

Who are other muses you ship your muse with?

Not gonna lie, I've shipped her with a few Ash's in my day. Younger Ash and even older Ash (talk about an age gap lmao). Someone writing Ash even wanted him to be her long lost dad. That was when there were a bunch of Ash blogs around and they all wanted a different dynamic with Mia.

She also had a thing with a werewolf character. She made out with the main dude from the 2016 Blair Witch movie (Heather's brother). She had a relationship with a Rafe from Uncharted (i totally forgot about that one.) Also a Roman from Hemlock Grove.

I also had a super fun platonic ship going with a Ricky from trailer park boys. My girl has gone through it with various ships.

Does one have to ask to ship with you?,

I don't mind if it just comes naturally in RP. It's funner that way. But it's also okay to ask. That makes it easier sometimes. But like it is super easy to ship with Mia. Even if it's just like a one night stand of friends with benefits. Girl likes to just make out sometimes without commitment.

How often do you like to ship?

I really haven't been doing it a whole lot lately. Then again, I've been on hiatus for awhile. But it's not the priority with my RPs. I'm a horror girly but I dabble in romance when it pops up.

Are you multiship?

Oh yeah

Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?

I guess I would be a ship more-or-less? Like I said, it's not the priority for this blog. But I am always looking for more dynamics. Right now I am obsessed with enemies to lovers so that would be fun :D I also just love platonic shit.

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

Mia is too busy dealing with detox and getting possessed. But if I am making up a ship, I like the idea of her and Kelly. Maybe her and Beth. If we wanna do some time travel to when he was still alive, she'd probably fuck Scotty. Heck the game being a thing makes the possibilities endless. And time travel happens in these movies.

Finally, how does one ship with you?

Yo just let me know if you wanna ship. Send some shippy memes when I reblog them. Get that building up in some threads. Fill out my interest checker and hit the box by romance under "what kind of threads do you want to do?" I am always down. I will let you know if I'm not interested in shipping Mia with your character. But that hasn't happened yet.

Tagged by: stole it from @bewitchingbaker

Tagging: i'm too lazy to tag. steal it.

[ultequivocator]

SO. as a PROPER return to this blog, here's an overview of what's same, different, added, removed. the whole shebang

General

-A lot of the lore for this blog (and the ones connected to it) is still the same. Just, like, in general.

-D.I.C.E. is p much the same! Any changes are mostly to the individual characters themselves.

-Sakako is also still here! And all of her class! Yay!

-Katsuo is also still here. sorry

-verse-wise, things are also mostly the same, except for the killing game verse. this one is being split into two: one where kokichi is alone in the killing game, and one where sakako is also in the killing game. the former will be majorly canon-compliant (barring any personally-made divergences w/ other people), while the latter is obviously going to be different. i will not specify how, yet. its Secret :3c

-relationships with muses previously established (yknow. with whoever's still active dfghkbdf) are still blog canon! unless u specifically come to me saying "hey wanna fully reset and see how they develop this time"

Kokichi

-gonna try to make his personality more properly like canon! which means None Of You Are Safe :)

-he's still a sweetie deep down, tho. u just gotta. get there

-sakako exists no matter what, bc fuck canon lol. so he's a tiny bit more chill than canon bc of her influence. not entirely tho (bc he got his mischief from SOMEWHERE). and esp not in the canon-compliant killing game verse bc she's not there to reign him in fgkdfdfh

Sakako + Class 75

-they're all still relevant! i'll be revamping their blog as well later on, just wanna focus on my boy rn. but they're still here

-for the newcomers: Sakako Ouma is an OC of mine, who is kokichi's elder sister and right hand, partially made bc of that whole "wait kokichi's motive video said 10 subordinates but there were 9 in the pic what gives" thing people often bring up, partly bc i wanted to give him someone who genuinely cares abt him out of spite towards canon fghdkfbg Class 75, meanwhile, is, obviously, sakako's own class. as the number suggests, they're third years (same grade and general age as the SDR2 cast)

-so is their story! 'The Killer Rink' is still being worked on! idk when it'll properly happen, but on god its gonna!!

-i'll eventually make a post for this on that blog, so keep an eye out for that

Katsuo

-i'm so sorry i need to talk abt him. christ. i hate him so much

-anyway. he's still here. he's an asshole. he (and his main lackeys) also has his own blog so yall won't rly need to deal w/ him on this one thank god

-again for newcomers: Katsuo Ouma is another kokichi sibling OC, except he's. well. Not A Good Person At All. inspired by a few lines from one of kokichi's FTEs.

-on a more specific note, katsuo is now sakako's twin brother, rather than kokichi's. i just think it makes sense for him to be a bit older.

-kokichi's still scared to death of him. doesn't wanna talk or think abt him Ever. very much a "will not talk abt to your muse unless he trusts them with his LIFE" topic. if he doesn't want to tell your muse abt him, he'll repeatedly avoid the topic, and lie his way out of escaping the conversation entirely if they keep pushing it.

-the biggest one: when i was still active, i regularly brought up a 'confrontation' that happened between kokichi and katsuo a little while back, that ended.....not so great. this confrontation still happened, but did not end the way it previously did, though it came very close. sakako managed to realize something was up, broke in and saved kokichi (and also punched katsuo in the face and broke his nose. queen shit)

kokichi is still heavily traumatized by this, though, considering what almost happened. even if he trusts you enough to talk abt katsuo, he won't bring up this specific event unless something prompts it specifically. trying to push him here will result in him just. leaving. and probably avoiding your muse for a while. Don't.

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍

———  BASICS! ♡

(PEN)NAME: Ash/Ashton/Jordan

PRONOUNS: He/Him & She/Her

ZODIAC SIGN: Aries / Pig

TAKEN OR SINGLE:  Single

———  THREE  FACTS! ♡

1 -  I used to believe that a specific anime show was real and I was destined to go there and be a part of the main cast hero group, I just had to be a certain age and a certain size/build/weight so once I achieved that, they’d come to get me. So, technically, up until 12 or 13 yoa I was waiting for my isekai destiny.

2 -  Jumped back and forth between normal school, homeschool, then normal school again, only to end off with virtual so my school experience as well as my school-taught knowledge is all over the place.

3 -  If you ever need to make me laugh, just link me ‘The Lochness Monster Song’ from Youtube. Because I have horrible humor and that whole thing kills me.

———  EXPERIENCE! ♡

PLATFORMS USED: I think MSN messenger, Max/Dan/Wiz before they removed the forums, then facebook communities (both via actual pages or just making friends a few or a group at a time and building an indirect community and plot from the overflow of people. idk how i used to handle that lmao), other forums and eventually on and off tumblr, discord, wire. occasionally omegle to email or discord when im desperate.

PLOTTING / WINGING IT / MEMES: I am open to all, but if it becomes a thread, I definitely prefer reasonable plotting somewhere along the lines, and occasionally popping in for plotting refreshers if needed to keep the plot going!

———  MUSE  PREFERENCE! ♡

GENDER: I can write both, but I generally prefer males, unless I just really vibe with a female characters personality and plot and such.

MULTI OR SINGLE: Multimuse half the time, mainly on this blog. I tend to take on a few characters if I have interest and/or experience, just depending on the fandom.

LEAST FAVOURITE FACECLAIM(S): I don’t have any big opinions on faceclaims, honestly. i’ve used them in the past for OCs or RL examples of book or animated or other such characters. for stuff that has reasonable picture options, i would generally expect those pictures to be used, but im not gonna complain otherwise.

———  FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡    

FLUFF: I love it, especially as a sort of balm over formerly stressful content, or its just...so dang cute and addictive. So long as it stays in mine and my partners personal parameters of believable/fitting/appropriate for the scene and our characters unless otherwise being wish fulfillment content.

ANGST: I generally live by it. Sometimes I might have moments where I get really caught up and i overthink the comfort level or consequences and try to solve issues like a RL person rather than trying to tell and enjoy a story but, when I can control that, I thoroughly enjoy some good angst with roleplay partners.

SMUT: I’m totally on board with it. I’ve been known to just throw out fling moments, moreso with characters it makes sense for, but I generally prefer some believable build up. The long pine, slow burn can be amazing, but I also understand and relate to partners who might have those moments of just feeling they and their muse have both gotten a little impatient/it feels like a moment is there and you just take it.

BONUS: I don’t always manage it well but I’ve come to enjoy developing HC’s/fanon for my muses and I adore moments where I get to share that and build some realism and relatability, within reason and accuracy, to my characters..

Tagged by: stolen from @roleplay-abiogenesis2 just cause~ been meaning to do it for a while lol

Tagging: anyone who wants to do it!

[ofgentleresolve]

1 3 8 for Mana and Lam!

@thegreenswillcome || another munday meme i am late on 😅 ( multimuse opinion corner prompt. )

1. where did you get your idea for them?

mana: hahaha fun story there xia- mana actually started off as a shitty self-insert in the ace attorney rpc + a ton of teenage angst...that being said, over the years, i think one that has remained with her all throughout is the fact that she supposed to be an ordinary human...like, she has no super special powers or destiny tied to her- she's just an ordinary person who was simply given some of the worst hands in life :'D

lam: so actually lam started out as a character for a short story i did for class before i made him mana's high school history teacher. and then about a year later, i thought 'bruh what if i put all of my high school and college anxieties into a muse and the multiplied that by three?' and that's how lam was initially born. robin as always been a huge part of his story too although how she's been incorportated as changed over time!

3. do you have any npcs you’d like to talk about more?

mana: there are quite a few individuals who i could talk about like all the adult figures in her life and how they've all failed her as a child in one capacity or another...however, that's a depressing topic so maybe i'll go with calum's roommate, irene lee. irene is basically mana's antithesis- when they were in college, she was also friends with daniel ( whom she had a crush on ) and calum and more or less wanted to be friends with mana too. the only problem was that to mana, back when they were in college, irene often came off as well-meaning but tone-deaf. like she meant well....but also often failed to take context into account and would say fairly simplistic/blank statements that ultimately wouldn’t help anyone. this is the main reason that both daniel and calum ultimately were more comfortable with confiding in mana.

lam: answered! but also c*ocaine donald and his friendship with lam?? techncially he was robin’s ex at one point, so i’d have to talk about robin too....anyways i feel like most of his development tends to come spontaneously so i’d like to keep it that way for now ^^

8. what songs remind you of your oc?

mana: strangely enough, music isn’t actually something I associate mana with nearly as much as say, her boyfriend or some of my other ocs....that being said, the ost would be more on the softer, resonant side...lots of fruits basket osts ( i don’t want to blame anyone anymore and i will protect you for example ), pleasure by WARPS UP also comes to mind but that’s also for the entire blogs itself. that being said, mana is technically the muse that this blog’s theme was initially based off of :P that and the finale music for legend of korra- it’s got a somber theme BUT there’s a sense of hope. okay yeah, music that is soft, but there’s an undertone of hope and change to it- that’s the kind of music i associate with mana <3

lam: lam, on the other hand, i used music A LOT as inspiration. in particular, porter robinson. basically if it’s more mellow electronic music, again with an undertone of hope, that’s probably gonna remind me of lam....blasting electronic music is usually his way of coping with the bad moments :/ but for specific examples.... mirror, get your wish, and trying to be alive!!

[helldustedstories]

@fizzarollitm asked: ⭐ ( for @hlylight & here )

Send me a ⭐ and I’ll tell you muses I want to throw your way! // Pretty much always accepting, tbh!

Oh, I have so many thoughts and ideas. Both for Fizz and everyone else.

Starting with Fizz!

There's the obvious, of course, with Fizz and Ozzie. Basically give me all of the things. I want to write their first meeting, falling in love, figuring out how they're gonna make things work, how they fit together (emotionally, physically, literally anything), Ozzie realizing oh holy shit this is different from anything I've ever experienced and I don't ever want to be without this person, and beyond. All the missing scenes we haven't gotten, and figuring things out in the future. Basically, just give me all the Fizzarozzie.

I know you've got your Hazbin verse, so it could be fun to throw any of my Hazbin characters at Fizz! He and Angel would probably bond, like we've talked about at least a little bit, I would have to figure Husk out but I could manage that, Lucifer would probably say something about Looloo Land, and then he'd appreciate Fizz for his craft, and probably make him a duck.

For Moxxie, there are actually a few different possibilities, both based in canon and potentially pre-canon (and of course, the cinematic AUniverse). So Moxxie was working for his dad before I.M.P., as we know, in Greed. Which means he could potentially run into Fizz somewhere. Do I have more than that off the top of my head? Not right this second, but there are possibilities! And then, more based in canon, Blitz could send Moxx to help Fizz out with something, or Moxx could volunteer or what have you. Lots of potential! And that is just expanded on in the AU. ^^ They could get along, I think!

For Tex, if Fizz and Verosika know one another, there's an easy connection there. He could even help bodyguard at some point if needed. Or we can come up with other things if you want Tex. ^^ Otherwise, we have plenty of other options.

And down to Stolas (of my canon characters)! We've already talked about a few things with him, and just give me all the things. I want them to talk and bond and become friends (especially in the circus AU, along with everything we've talked about for that. ^^). Stolas post-divorce is already exploring his own style since he can, and Fizz can help with that and a lot of other things, honestly. And they can just chat and bond over both having a lot of trauma. Stolas is very good at holding space for other people.

Omg, please, Fizz and Echo could be such interesting friends, potentially. Their main job is gathering information, so they could easily be working for Fizz or bringing Fizz info on Ozzie's behalf. Echo tends to sort of mirror people's energy, since they're a shapeshifter, so it's always interesting if/when people are able to sort of see past that mask, which it feels like Fizz would be able to do.

And now that I've gone overboard, onto hlylight!

For Lilith: The obvious options are Charlie and Lucifer. Exploring those dynamics is going to be so interesting. Charlie looks up to her mom so much and is so afraid of letting her down, of disappointing her. And exploring where and how things went with Lucifer and Lilith is such a fascinating dynamic, really. And you know I will throw pretty much anyone your way. Though Cain would also be interesting to interact with Lilith, actually. First woman, firstborn son? Having them interact could be fun.

For Sera: Pre-fall Lucifer!! I love exploring what he was like as an angel, especially as he interacts with other angels. And even post-fall, too! There's so much to explore and figure out, and I think that would be excellent. Charlie could interact with her too, to some extent. Oh, oh, and Cain. If she ever went to earth, she could potentially interact with him, which could be really fun to explore. Also pre-fall Ozzie!! There are so many delightful possibilities, and I want to expand and explore all of the things and build lore.

For Angel: *grabby hands* All the things! I wanna throw everyone at him: Charlie, Husk, Lucifer. I could probably also come up with ideas for Stolas, Moxxie, and Ozzie, at the very least. I already have some thoughts, actually, SO YES. Give me all of the things and let me love him.

Bel: I need to get off my butt and reply to the stuff with Stolas, 'cause I'm very much looking forward to those threads. ^^ Obviously, I want things with Lucifer and Ozzie, both pre- and post-fall. Figuring out their dynamic, how it changes, how it's the same, all of it. Echo again is someone that I can kind of throw in anywhere, so if Bel needs information on anything that she can't find on her own, call your local shapeshifter.

Husk: More of all of the things. Have him interact with Angel, with Charlie, Lucifer. I can figure out ways to throw other people at him, too. ^^ Echo is always good for throwing at people as previously mentioned, since they can blend in and all that jazz. One of my other OCs is a club musician, so he could potentially have played in Husk's club/casino back when he was an overlord and such. Lots of possibilities!

So these are just kind of off the top of my head, but if you have an idea, I am always down to throw pretty much anyone your way all the time.

[reiding-writing]

Congrats on 1000 followers! That's such a huge milestone! For the climacteric event, could you do a continuation of 'Takedown'? Maybe a role reversal, where cold!reader witnesses a badass moment from Spencer (whether his 'takedown' is physical or verbal is up to you) and gets flustered about it? I love your cold!reader series so much, it's such a great character dynamic with the rest of the cast!! Congrats again!

TAKEDOWN [CLIMACTERIC]

/ˈteɪkˌdaʊn/ /part one/

Spencer might be a know-it-all, but at least he actually knows the things that he talks about.

WARNINGS: fem!reader, just some guy being really obnoxious and annoying, mild mansplaining

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff || 2.4k || event masterlist!!

a/n: we’re gonna ignore i uploaded this prematurely and just focus on the fic thanks 😭🫶

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!

this is a continuation of my original ’takedown’ fic for cold!reader with a role reversal!

Spencer wouldn’t say that he liked to ‘show off’.

He knew he was smarter than most people, and his teammates knew he was smarter than most people, and that meant that when he displayed his intelligence to provide important details about a case, the team would take his word for it.

It saved a lot of time in explanations for where he got his information from and allowed for profiles to be built at twice the speed.

But sometimes asking someone to quote a source was necessary.

Case in point, a police detective from Indiana who just would not leave the BAU team alone as they tried to curate a profile for the serial killer they were hunting.

Some of his muses, most definitely flukes in knowledge, actually did have a productive outcome.

“A majority of stabbing cases have an underlying sexual motive, so I’ve taken the liberty of looking into the sex-offences registry for anyone who could be our killer,”

And some…

“Have we considered the possibility that our killer is actually killers, I mean if you look at the stab patterns across the victims, there’s a clear dominant and submissive personality no?”

…were the exact opposite.

“What you’re seeing is a progression of the unsub’s confidence,” Spencer shook his head slightly at the detectives attempt at an explanation. “The slashes are only jagged and uncertain in the two first victims, with all of the victims after that displaying much more confident wounds, which clearly shows the evolution of one individual, not multiple,”

He didn’t like having to shut other people’s trains of thought down, it was something that he’d gone through enough to not want to put anyone else through it, but when they were the complete opposite of productive, sometimes it was for the best.

It was remarkably easy to tell when somebody had read something on the internet rather than actually going through the training required to be competent in a certain specialty. Especially when it came to the forensic side of things.

Throwing in key words like dominant and submissive personalities didn’t mean that he knew what he was on about. It just meant that he’d read a few case articles on a certain subject and then passed that off as a rounded understanding of whatever concept he was trying to explain.

And it was really frustrating.

“What’s wrong with you today?” You enter the put aside meeting room with narrowed eyes, a cup of takeout coffee in your hand that serves as a relic of you being able to escape from the hellhole that Spencer was inherently trapped in.

“It’s nothing, i’m alright,” He presses his lips into that awkward smile of his, but it lacks any of the genuity that it’s usually accompanied by, merely a shell of a smile that Spencer knows you’re not buying.

A quirk of your eyebrow is the only push needed for his façade to break immediately.

“It’s just—” Spencer exhales heavily through his nose, biting the inside of his mouth in a will for him to keep himself together. “I’m just frustrated.”

You gesture with your head for him to continue, and it’s like you’ve blown a hole in a dam with how fast everything comes tumbling out.

“Officer Harrison keeps interrupting the investigation and talking about absolute nonsense under the guise of it being objective fact and I’ve spent so long correcting him that I haven’t actually managed to do anything,” He gets it all out in a single breath, and it’s honestly quite impressive to watch until he’s caught at the end with barely any air left in his lungs and has to take a moment to catch it up.

“I just wish he would leave me alone,”

You haven’t met Officer Harrison, too busy with the coroner and taking interviews, but if you had to make an educated guess you’d say Spencer’s apparent frustration was well founded.

He wasn’t one to exaggerate things.

“Tell him to then,” You shrug out your answer like it’s easy, leaning your lower back against the table to sip at your coffee.

“I’m not like you,” Spencer sighs exasperatedly, his shoulders in a slump alongside his mind. “I can’t just— scare people off,”

You give a small quirk of your eyebrow at his assessment of your personality, and Spencer can see the small traces of amusement in the corners of your mouth. “You have the authority Reid, you outrank him tenfold,”

“I know, I just—” Spencer shrugs, defeated. “I don’t know, I just can’t,” He uncaps his marker to return to the barren whiteboard to try and actually get some decent headway on the profile with a solemn expression, submitting himself to the inevitability of having to do two jobs at once.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Your offer sounds almost like an assassination proposal, monotonous and almost too serious.

“No,” Spencer shakes his head lightly. “No it’s alright, it’s not your problem, I’ll be okay,”

“You’e sure?”

“Yeah,” He gives you a small nod over his shoulder, lips pressed into a line as a grateful but dismissive smile. “Thanks anyway,”

You push yourself from the table with a sigh, joining Spencer at his side to pull the marker from his hand.

“Wh—“

“Go make yourself a coffee Reid.” You cap the marker with a knowing tilt of your head, putting it away in your back pocket so he can’t try and take it back from you. “You need to take five and calm down, you aren’t going to get anything done like this,”

You can see the want to turn your idea down, to say that he’s fine and not affected by the officer in his expression, but you both know it’s not something to be acted on, and so gives you a small nod with an exasperated exhale as he drags himself out of the meeting room to do as you’d asked.

He’s grateful for it really, the warm ceramic under his hands serving as a grounding point and sickly sweetness of the drink as it reaches his taste-buds a welcome distraction from the rampant frustration inhabiting his prefrontal cortex, but that small voice in the back of his head continues to torment him about the inevitability of having to deal with the officer again.

He knows he should at least try to let it go over his head. If he stepped back into the meeting room like he was you probably wouldn’t even let him get one foot in the door before sending him on a longer break, but he didn’t want a break, he wanted to work, to crack this profile open and actually make some real headway.

He just needed to take a second to breathe.

When he does return to the meeting room, you’re not alone anymore, and Spencer can practically feel the amount of will power you’re using to keep your mouth shut as Officer Harrison rambles on about something he’s not quite close enough to hear yet.

“…very unlikely for that to actually happen,” The officer points to a section of scrawl you’d added to the whiteboard after Spencer’s departure, something about brief episodes of mania as a possible reason behind the unsub’s violent attacks.

“That’s not actually true, it’s been disproved dozens of times over,” You shake off his attempt at over-explaining your own theory to you with a full tone and a shake of your head, a clear indication for him to leave you alone.

He doesn’t of course, and Spencer swears he sees your eye twitch as Officer Harrison continues to talk aimlessly.

“I’m just saying, there’s research to support the idea that serial killers make their crimes more gruesome than they need to post-mortem so they can plead insanity in court if they’re caught,” He raises his hands in mock surrender, and you quirk your eyebrow at his explanation.

“And where did you get that information from?”

“A doctorate thesis paper from Stanford,” Officer Harrison crosses his arms like he’s secured a victory over you in knowing something that an expert doesn’t. “You’ve probably never read it, it was an investigation into the differences between legal and clinical insanity, and it concluded that serial murderers over gruesomise their kills to plead legal insanity in court despite being completely sound of mind,” He points back at your scribbling with his index finger, knocking his knuckle against the board. “So this theory isn’t worth looking into sweetheart, trust me,”

The use of the placeholder ‘pet’ name makes your eyebrows furrow until there’s a prominent frown line between them. “I have read that paper, for your information,” You spin the whiteboard marker between the fingers of your left hand, likely a way to expel some of the tension in your muscles as you grow increasingly frustrated with the man.

“You don’t have to lie sweetheart, it’s alright, no one’s expecting you to have read an 85,000 word paper from almost a decade ago, I just like to educate myself in my free time,” He shrugs with a nonchalant expression, but there are traces of what’s almost condescendion in his tone and Spencer decides it’s time to stop this little debate before Officer Harrison ends up with a broken nose and you end up getting a very long talk from Hotch.

“She wrote it,” Spencer presses his lips into a tight line as he walks around the table to join you at the whiteboard.

“Excuse me?” The officer blinks at Spencer blankly, eyebrows knitting together in a mix of confusion and a slight amount of irritation at Spencer’s intrusion.

“The thesis paper you’re talking about? She was the one who wrote it,” He nods his head in your direction, and he can physically see the way the officer’s air of intellectual superiority drains from his face.

“And I’m not actually convinced that you’ve read the whole thing yourself, everything you mentioned was part of the paper’s abstract, which at an average reading speed of 238 words per minute, should have only taken you a minute and 24 seconds to read, rather than the 5 hours and 54 minutes to read the whole thing,” Spencer feels a little guilty for how good the drop in Officer Harrison’s face makes him feel, but it’s easily overrun by inherent relief at getting the frustration off his chest.

“Can you name anything important from that paper apart from what you just mentioned? Anything at all?” The frustration underlying Spencer’s tone was obvious, and it was almost gratifying for you to watch him take a stand in his own beliefs for once.

There’s a few moments where he pauses, giving Officer Harrison the very slim opportunity to redeem himself and prove he had actually read through the whole document.

Neither of you needed to watch him try and stumble through his answer to know that he didn’t.

“Maybe if you had read it you’d know that the ‘fact’ you just mentioned, was proportional to the percentage of serial murderers that weren’t diagnosed with any mental illness prior to their arrest, which was only 63% of the total sample that was analysed. 114 of the murderers were actually diagnosed with some form of clinical psychosis, which is still entirely probable for the unsub that we’re looking for,” There’s a lingering trace of snark dousing Spencer’s tone, joined by an elevated sense of conviction as he narrows his eyes towards Officer Harrison. “Or maybe you’d at least remember that it was actually 97,502 words long, not 85,000,”

The fact that Spencer recalled such specific details of your thesis shouldn’t be a shock to you, his eidetic memory was practically a staple of his character after all, but considering you weren’t even aware he’d read it in the first place until five minutes ago made that revelation hit you just a little harder than it probably should.

“If you want to act like an expert in something, become an expert in something,” Spencer crosses his arms and it may as well have been a done deal. “Don’t pass off surface level, incorrect information as objective fact, all you’re doing is slowing the real experts down,”

The assertiveness in his tone, whilst occasionally used when arguing his point for a specific topic, was much more present as he shut down the Officer, and it was almost a little too gratifying to watch the wind get knocked out of his sails at Spencer’s reprimand.

“Now if you’d please excuse us, we have a profile to work on,” He gestures to the whiteboard with his head, and Officer Harrison is off like a whippet, retreating out of the room with his tail between his legs and a traffic light red coating his face from the embarrassment.

You give a dragged out whistle as the door closes. “Congratulations on telling him to leave you alone,”

Spencer laughs almost pathetically. Was he really so socially inept that he had to be congratulated on standing up for himself?

“Thanks,” He presses his lips into that typical Spencer smile as he fiddles aimlessly with the button on the cuff of his right sleeve. “And uh, thanks for letting me handle it on my own,”

You shrug nonchalantly. “You asked me to,”

“I know, I just— thank you,”

“It’s nothing to thank me for Reid,” You shake your head dismissively, but Spencer knows you’ve accepted his thanks through the slight quirk in the corners of your mouth that break the ever-present scowl that cements itself on your face. “I didn’t know you read my thesis,”

Spencer blinks for a moment before giving you a small and enthusiastic nod. “Three times actually, it’s extremely well written from a logical perspective, and the transcripts from the interviews you held were very interesting,”

And there’s the Spencer you knew.

“You’re an incredible psychologist, it’s no wonder you skipped your bachelors,” He emphasises his words with exaggerated head movements that make the curls of his hair bounce against his forehead.

“Thank you, Reid, that’s very sweet,” There’s a fondness to your voice that you’d deny if he pointed out, but you’re trying much less to hide it from Spencer than you would from anyone else in your team.

Spencer Reid had read your thesis three times. You wouldn’t be surprised if he knew it better than you did. You’re almost certain he knew it better than you did. He could probably recite the whole thing word for word where chunks of it had already been forgotten in your mind.

It wasn’t exactly something revolutionary, but it may as well have been.

[lockedtowers]

me, realizing i was gon follow a few ppl but i dont have my verses or anything rly up yet: …. so anYWAYS

some fun things bc im not gonna be on a comp until tomorrow then ill only be here mon wednes and surprisingly fri/sat next week, maybe some lil funzies mostly abt cassie bc shes my baby

obvi (if u kno me if not welcome im brina my brain doesnt work) i have multiple verses im just dumb and havent posted them, i gotta rewrite a lot of them to be shorter too bc i give full character backstories for everything as it develops and ik most ppl dont wanna read that so it takes longer for me to do things bc im ‘tistic and short quick explanations is not my fortay. main doodads tho: 1, 3-7 are fantasy worlds specifically, 2 is overall in any world, 8 onwards is purely human verses

generally with other fantasy worlds, i’ll have it where cassie ended up in your universe. Whilst my Wonde/rland is largely built off my own thoughts and things now, and various points of lore, the 2009 S/yfy A/lice was a base for it. A/merican M/cgee’s Alice is the base inspo for Cassie’s cheshire cat, but she’s also her own thing. (fun fact: originally i was writing her as the d/ormouse from b/urtons wonderl/and, but as she grew further from that canon w my never writing in that universe, she became my own character ultimately and holds few similarities to her origin now, including species! but her twin brother is still ‘proper’ dormo/use, yes it makes sense, its more a title than a species in this world)

Cassie is… moldable, mentally, to say the least. When someone finds her in whatever world she ends up in, whether its a fantasy world or not (as she ofc just lives wherever in non fantasy aus) she.. tends to be easier to manipulate because she will get attached to people just for being nice to her. she isn’t used to it. it’s rare for there to be a universe where this isn’t an issue for her (also of note bc dual muse blog: willys the manipulator, and shes the manipulatee) honestly she’s morally grey anyways and doesn’t really understand morality as a whole, so if shes found by a villain and they just.. treat her like a person, she will get attached. and cassie being attached can be dangerous, not just for others, but for herself, because she’s loyal to a fault. if she makes friends w multiple ppl and they fight, she wont know what to do because she just can’t bring herself to believe either person is wrong. it’s also of note that in most fantasy verses, she’d been locked up, abandoned in a cell, for years. She doesnt tend to talk and, despite trying to push a tough and uncaring act, she’s still scared. she’s still traumatized. a lot of the time she wont even talk. this is the everything tab also so be aware she has a scar over her right eye, and her right eye is a silvery blue verses her normal blue eye. she’s also pretty much blind in her right eye, but the color is due to heterochromia. her twin brother has one blue and one green.

she is very noticeably neurodivergent when you talk to her, and as many fellow a/utistics point out, cats tend to have similar personalities to us anyways (ive seen a many point out that if you can handle a cats support needs you can handle ours lol). usually shes fixated on something, but she’ll also use trickery of the tongue to get out of things when need be. she’ll unintentionally speak in riddles that make perfect sense to her, but others feel a need to solve. however in most universes where she ends up there, i do it post her escaping after the prince of he/arts (who kept her captive for years) overthrows his mother. She ultimately traverses due to remaining look/ing glasses from before the land was taken by the Hearts. Meaning she cannot get back on her own. But, she also does not want to.

It’s very important for the author to be aware that she cannot tell a lie. Muses not understanding is fine, because how would they know when cassie doesn’t know her own heritage in most verses (o/uat is currently pmuch the only fantasy verse where she was raised by her parents, making her aware shes the princess of spades, and aware shes a witch, but still unaware that the reason she cant lie is because shes a fae halfling) Cassie is a Fae Halfling, and fae/witch hybrid. The Fae half itself is a hybrid of Seelie and Unseelie like her father. I use pieces of real lore and pieces of my own here, but it doesnt really come up in writing much anyways. but she cannot lie to anyone, it physically tears into her flesh the moment words leave her lips. the only thing she can do is use trickery words to mis-explain, and even then it can titter the line.

Her cheshire invisibility comes from shapeshifting to match her surroundings, but beyond that she mostly can just change her hair color, slightly change her face for short periods of time, or as most often used and the longest shes capable of holding, turning into a silver blue cat.

fae wise her powers are largely elemental, water focused, and she doesnt know how it works. the faerie power she has most control over involves her own blood, which she can turn into crystalized weapons when shes bleeding. most often she’ll be using her witch abilities. in some aus, your character may see she has strange looking bands on her wrists and locked into place, meant to look like bracelets but unable to be removed. They’re power blockers placed on her by the prince of h/earts to ensure she couldn’t break out again. they keep her from using her powers, from healing, and otherwise.

her makeup made her an omen to the remaining fae of wo/nderland, which there arent many left there. they wanted to slaughter her father as well, but never managed to make it as he was too brutally powerful for them, either. The Fae had believed a seelie/unseelie hybrid, let alone a fae/witch hybrid, would bring death upon the whole of their kind. Ironically… Cassie’s technically a necromancer, and can give part of herself to bring others back to life permanently, or use weaker magic to bring them back temporarily. As such, when she dies, she tends to always come back, and oft with more power than before, and even less self control. She’s also the only reason her twin brother is still alive, but he wont admit to that.

purely human verses, she still doesn’t lie, but it largely relates more to the a/utism than anything else. she doesn’t like to lie in the first place, but has little qualms about confusing others when they get confused by her speaking normally. she doesn’t see a point in fixing that, especially when she can simply say a confusing, convoluted version of the truth to get out of actually admitting anything.

usually, because when i first wrote her a few years ago i actually combined her and this canon iteration (as shes basically what cassie would become if pushed fully to the limit) whos name i took, i’ll have her be the adopted daughter (and bio relative) of A/lcina D/imitrescu, with her sharing that name. Meaning she’s in her family’s wine business. She’s much more distrusting of men, between nearly being killed by one after watching him kill most of her family, kidnapped by him for blackmail until she found a way out, and her mother (alcina’s) own severe hatred of them. but still, honestly, if you’re nice to her she’s probably gonna get confused and fall for it.

theres also verses w @mastermiinded where shes E/llington F/eints daughter, thats probably the most normal cassie you’ll ever get if you want those but also she has a mom who loves her and was raised in a universe heavily involving a cult. she’s kind of bitchier tbh LOL

funnily enough, she is still always ready to attack at any given moment.

she knows a lot of knife tricks, and many would argue she likely belongs in a circus of some sort. she doesn’t like that argument, but she does know how to do multiple knife tricks, swallow swords, and do various slight of hand tricks. all while being blind in her right eye.

put in a multitude of self defense training, and for a brief time was even made her mothers bodyguard, she knows how to fight and she knows how to kill. whether or not she wants to is its own debacle.

if someone is out to get her and sb else tries to help, shes not gonna be cool w it bc she doesnt want others risking themselves for her, and it makes her feel like shes been kidnapped and locked up all over again.

[mxnster-ive-become]

🥊My preferred style🥊

~ While as of late I've been doing a lot of short para's and smaller scaled chats, that does not mean it is my preferred style of roleplay.  In actuality I enjoy to write, a lot.  Some of my favored posts have spanned over 2,000 words though my average range is somewhere between 1000 to 1500.  I'm a novella writer at heart as long as the inspiration hits me and I find myself enjoying whatever interactions may or may not be going on between our characters. 

🥊Rules🥊

Mun is over the age of 21 and will not interact with anyone under age.

I RP’d on tumblr a few years back, and only came back just recently due to some gentle pushing.

Considering the muse I chose to portray there will definitely be mature content. Trigger Warnings, nsfw … all things that are essentially Billy will be here. The tag is as followed. {§NSFW§} || Monster made whole

Not a fan of drama so leave it at the door.

More will be added later

🥊Verses and other fandoms🥊

Multi verse and multi fandom friendly. I’m down for throwing Billy anywhere in any fandom so long as we can plot it out.

Current main verse is after S3, where Billy didn’t die from the Mind flayer and was one of the few survivors of the fire.

🥊ships🥊

Im open to most ships, but be warned the muse? He’s not the nicest person and he’s a broken little boy. He needs someone willing to teach him it’s okay to love.

Currently not affiliated with any blog as I’m still a baby buuuuut hey that might change. Any MxM ship will probably take a loooong time to grow because of his abuse. Another guys touch… we’ll it’s gonna be hard for him not to flinch.

[annieoftheshitposts]

GOD right yeah so the scrapped arg. this stuff is OLD, like, from 2018 ok. but even if it never went anywhere i did have a ton of fun coming up with the mechanics and story, and did a decent bit of groundwork for getting it set up, so this is a long post with a lot of images.

for a good long while i was kicking around the idea of a doing “double takeover” thing where, for one reason or another, annie would just be Not Around, and not the one answering questions. just suddenly switch to double shapeshifted as annie and never comment on it until someone tried to point it out. i did a handful of sketches exploring this.

the sword? you mean this sword that ive defintiely always had and didn’t just shapeshift out of my body? yeah it’s a cool sword.

i like to imagine double would just be really fucking salty about any praise annie gets too. and then the inevitable heel turn when someone Did catch on and call her out.

it never really went anywhere because frankly annie’s too powerful for most forces in the sg universe to be able to keep her restrained somewhere against her will; there was a vague idea about her somehow having gotten separated from sagan, which would not only severely nerf her power but also provide prime angst material. ultimately though it was all still just idle musings, until i started thinking about how i was gonna handle annie’s eventually being included in indivisible, and how to do asks with the characters in that game.

so first off, there was gonna be this whole Mechanic™ for how she passed between the two games; nothing super fancy, if anyone remembers star vs. the forces of evil and how the “dimensional scissors” worked there, it’s pretty much the same thing. just a little trinket she can pull out and make portals/holes between game universes.

second, only annie and sagan can use the said portals; any other characters or objects that try to go through, from either side, are met with a sort of ‘compatibility error’; just in that the programming to let them exist isn’t present in the other game, and so they can’t pass through. anything else that does try to go through just kind of gets vaporized. momentarily. it re-materializes a few seconds later, wherever it was last before trying to go through so nbd. yknow the material emancipation grids from portal? it’s like that but it just sort of rewinds stuff a few seconds instead of killing it.

i was going to have beowulf try to follow her into indivis world and then promptly get vaporized to demonstrate this, which would have been really funny. for me. not so much for annie, watching it happen.

dont worry though hes fine. again it’s only momentary, it just caught them off-guard. i could never hurt dear sweet beowulf.

so anyway we go on answering asks normally with annie going back and forth between indivis and sg for awhile; however long it takes to get comfortable with the game-hopping mechanic, and then at one point when we’re Supposed to have her travel back to sg-verse, i just pull out the pink double-annies and say Nothing. this is where the arg begins.

the first leg of this is figuring out what the hell happened to annie. someone would have to call double out for Not Being Annie and start questioning her about what happened, and at some point i’d find a way to slip in that double has been using “console commands” on the blog, which you are to also then do. i did actually make the console command page, though it’s still 100% in messy beta test phase and there’s not really anything there that finalized or presentable or functional. but it exists and you can go look at it if you want, i don’t intend on deleting it. the important thing there is the “camera focus” toggle/links; this would have been the main gimmick of the arg. the camera is, by default, set to “main”, which is this “annieoftheshitposts” blog. annie is the player character here who receives the asks, so there’s not usually any discrepancy. however, now, with her being missing,  when you toggle the camera to view the “player character”, you’re brought to a DIFFERENT blog, where the real annie is, and where you are met with a post of annie now getting the whole “being vaporized when she tries to pass between games” deal.

very rough bc i only drew it for testing/placeholder purposes but you get the idea. so anyways then you’d send annie questions on this Other blog to ask her what’s going on and get her caught up to speed what you know about double being on the main one now, etc. at some point you would be told about an Additional camera control, to let you see/go to a Third blog with venus and aeon to send THEM asks and get further information. [fun fact, if you remember my venus redesign? this is what it was for!] anyway we’d spend a good bit of time here just bouncing back and forth questioning the characters and relaying information between them to piece together what was going on.

and what’s going on is this: you know how in that one ending it’s shown that venus and aeon have a Physical Cartridge of the game skullgirls?  they noticed annie had been slipping in and out of the game/sg universe, and thought “hey, wouldn’t it be neat if we could lock her out permanently so she’s not always fucking up our endeavors?” and then they hacked/modded their game;  specifically to remove/patch annie out so that she gets the same ‘compatibility error’ thing when trying to return home and just becomes Stuck in indivis universe. yknow the whole shtick with vanellope in wreck-it ralph? pretty much that.

so then the second leg of the arg is getting her written/coded back IN to the skullgirls ‘verse. i never really figured out much about this part though. i was doing some stuff on twinery about like, passwords or something; you’d have to go on this whole goose chase to find them and then enter them on there and it’d let you access the actual stuff to do the little ‘coding’ activities or whatever. i dont know it has been like 4 years since i was actively planning all this. but anyway once all that is Done you’d go back to annie to let her know, and then she can go back home to this main blog to beat double’s ass and get things back to normal. the end!

but yeah i killed this blog to go focus on working with my own original stuff, and then indivisible itself also Fucking Died before annie ever got added, so all this is 200% never happening. but now you know.

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Nine. Minecraft Dating 101

warnings: swearing, mostly super freaking fluffy but some oopsies at the end (which is the barely-there angst that i mentioned before!!), pet names?? if that bothers you??? (like...... one or both of them might use baby.........) word count: 5.3k (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: HEHEH SORRY ITS SO LONG SORRY hope you guys like it!!!! hope it lives up to your standards of minecraft dates lol also thank you guys all for all your suggestions!!! i loved all of them so much!!!! i would have added every idea except this was already 5k words so its much less “flirting” and more so “oh gosh im so nervous what am i supposed to do” from both of them so hehe i think thats more endearing anyway

**********

The familiar sound of a FaceTime call connecting rang in Y/n's ears and she held her phone up to her face. "Hi, Karl," she sighed.

"Y/N!!" he said with a cackle. "ARE YOU READY FOR YOUR DATE?!"

"Shut up, I'm doing this for you."

"I already gave you the tour though so really you could back out. You're choosing to stay." His voice was teasing and giddy. "Why's that, hmm?"

Heat rose instantly to Y/n's face. "Because I'm a woman of my word?"

"OkaAaAyy," he sang. "Or because you liiiiikeee himmm."

"Shhhut up, Karl. No, I don't."

"Suuuure."

"Is this why you called me?"

He giggled. "Yeah, but—"

Y/n disconnected the call and set her phone down with a small laugh and a shake of her head.

With her stream started and her chat greeted, the donation limit raised to $100 (both because she didn't want to be flooded with questions on the date and because she didn't want people to donate their hard-earned money), Y/n logged onto Dream's SMP and found the voice call Dream was in, George's name right under his.

After she clicked it to join, a small gasp emitted from her headphones before she heard Dream mutter something. "Get out, get out, leave."

George's voice was normal. "But I wanna—"

"GEORGE!" Dream yelled, making Y/n giggle.

"Fine!" George yelled back. "Have fun you two," he sang like Karl did before a sound from Discord told them that he left.

It was silent for a second before, "Hi."

"Hi." She giggled. "What was that about?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Just some last minute, uh, setting up."

She hummed, amused at the sound of his frantic voice.

"So, um... are you ready for our date?"

"I don't even know where you are. I'm still in my house."

"Knock, knock," he said with a laugh. Y/n turned to see green peeking through the cutouts on her oak door and she laughed.

She ran to the door and opened it for him, revealing Dream in a slightly altered version of his Minecraft skin. He looked the same, except the white blob appeared to be wearing a necktie of some sort. "You look ridiculous," she admitted with a smile. "Wait, is this a fancy date? Should I change my skin?"

"It's not fancy, I just wanted to look my best for the prettiest girl in the world."

"Ohmygosh," she muttered to herself, hoping that writing off his charming words and actions as annoying would make her face not heat up as much. So far, it hadn't worked. Two minutes in and she was already blushing like a schoolgirl whose crush asked her to play tag at recess. "So, I'm not underdressed?"

"No, you're always perfect."

She didn't comment, opting for an eye-roll instead. Truthfully, she wanted to flirt back with him, try to make his heart beat fast like hers already was, but she was worried her words wouldn't come off joking and that the true intention would be obvious, that he'd be able to breeze right past the jovial tone and hear the sincerity in her words. Wait, true intention? What was her true intention? Her true intention should obviously be to just joke around and have some fun, but deep down she knew the motivation for teasing him came from somewhere different, somewhere more meaningful.

She wanted to tease him because she wanted to be the one to make him blush, to make him trip over his words and not know what to do with his hands.

Why? Well, she was still figuring that out.

"If you're ready, follow me, ma'am."

"Where are you taking me?" she asked as she followed his character down prime path.

"Hmmm..." he mused. "A secret, obviously."

"Obviously," she scoffed. She noticed that he was several blocks ahead of her and she smiled to herself. "Hey, Dream?"

"Hm?" he asked, spinning to face her as he ran backward.

"I don't know how many dates you've been on, but usually people walk together. You know, gives them an excuse to maybe hold hands or at least enjoy each other's company?" She made sure her voice had just the right balance of teasing and seriousness, curious as to how he would respond.

"I, uh... oh."

"Unless you want me to just meet you there. I mean, you're practically running away from me."

"I'm just excited!" he excused, stopping briefly so she could catch up with him.

"But look at how many beautiful things there around us to look at while we get to where we're going!" she told him. "Well, maybe not that," she said with a laugh as she punched her fist towards Tommy's dirt house. "But other things."

Dream laughed and continued to walk next to her like she requested, pausing if he ever got too far ahead. "How can I look at all those when the most beautiful thing is walking right next to me?"

She's never rolled her eyes so hard in her life. "Shut up," she mumbled as she punched him.

"OW! BUG!"

"That was supposed to be a pat on the arm but Minecraft only has one level of hitting and it's a punch. Sorry."

Dream wheezed briefly before containing his laughter. "This way," he instructed, getting off the path and starting into the woods.

"Oh, really you're trying to kill me. That's why you didn't want me to wear anything nice. Didn't want me to ruin any of my fancy stuff."

"Foiled my plans," he joked lightly. "Okay but really, um, I was thinking—well, so you already have a house but I was thinking we could build one together. Or build something, I don't know. But you're really good at building and I know you really enjoy it so I thought maybe you could show—like, teach me and then later I'll teach you something and then we can have a little picnic dinner."

Y/n smiled at her nervousness. "Hey, that actually sounds really fun!"

"What? What do you mean actually?" He laughed. "What, did you expect me to plan something boring?"

She laughed over his dramatic pouting. "No, but I mean, I didn't know what to expect," she said shyly. "I do have to say, though, I'm not sure what you plan on teaching me. I'm pretty much a master at all possible Minecraft skills, so..."

"Oh, really?" he taunted. "Everything?"

"Mhm," she hummed, her confidence wavering at his smooth voice.

"We'll see about that..."

"Unless you mean you're gonna teach me how to code Minecraft. That's a Minecraft skill I will admit I know nothing about."

"No, no, nothing like that," he said with a laugh.

"Good, save the programming talk for later."

"For laaater, hmmm?" he sang flirtatiously.

"Oh my gosh," she said through a laugh. "You would think that's what I meant."

"Hey, you're the one that said you think it's cute when I talk about coding. Maybe you're into that."

"I was saying it's sweet hearing you talk about stuff you like, you nerd. Why did you immediately think—what, is your idea of dirty talk talking about... like... computer viruses?"

"WhAT?"

"Hey girl, lemme clean out your motherboard," she mocked in a deep voice. "You overclock my processor. Lemme program your, uh—uh...hAHA, nevermind, ew, no."

"BUG?! WHAAAT? What is wrong with you?" His gasps for breath between wheezes made her laugh with him. "Don't ever talk like that again, pleASE."

"I won't, I won't, I'm sorry. Oh my gosh."

"Is that your idea of flirting? You are bad!"

"No, no, no!" She laughed. "I was making fun of you. No, I'm actually really good."

She couldn't stop giggling to herself for a few minutes, embarrassed but also proud of the reaction she got from Dream. She loved hearing him laugh as if he would never stop, it made her heart so happy to hear, especially when she was the one who caused it.

Though she feared her horrible pickup lines, if you could even call them that, were already clipped, ready to be used against her for the rest of her life. Worth it. Probably.

They approached a cleared-out area in the woods and Dream stopped and turned to Y/n. "So, we're here. What should we build?"

"Oh, so now I have to plan? Wow, you are so underprepared," she joked.

"What, no! I originally... I wanted to build a, like, a house together because I didn't— I forgot you made your—your house already and—but since you already have one—"

"We can still build a house," she interrupted with a soft voice. Him fumbling over his words was very endearing but also very confusing. How serious was he taking this bit? Or was he... actually nervous? She was actually nervous but she had reasons to be: a huge live audience to entertain and not ignore, and the weird staticky, itchy feeling in her tummy every time Dream spoke to her. Both valid reasons to be nervous. What was his excuse?

"Really? You wanna build a home together?"

Heat rose to her cheeks at his wording and she hummed. "Mhm. You can be my secret lover I hide in my vacation home. Like a second life kinda deal."

He scoffed. "Oh, now I'm just your side piece, Bug?"

"Nah, you're my main bitch, baby. I just wanna hide you away to keep you for myself because I'm selfish."

There was silence on his end for a few moments, making Y/n's face practically catch fire as she thought about her words. Why did she say that?? How can he flirt all the time but as soon as she says something: dead silence.

"Well.... shhhhhit," he finally mumbled definitively.

"You wanted me to flirt with you, Dream. You literally asked me too!" She laughed, trying to cover up her embarrassment. It had been less than 20 minutes and she already made a fool of herself.

"I did, I did, I just—wow. Come on, that was... I didn't expect you to go from never flirting to calling me baby!"

"Too much?" she bit her lip as she waited for him to explain if it was a good or bad thing.

He paused again. "....no."

She laughed loudly, pulling her hoodie collar up to her face in an attempt to rid herself of the giddiness and heat on her face. Like anyone could see anyway.

"So, a house?"

"A house."

"What kind of house do you think we should build together, Dream?"

"Maybe...." he thought as he ran around the area. "Maybe, like, a log cabin? Since we're in a forest. It's fitting..."

"Very true, very true..." she thought. "I was thinking a castle was more suited for you, king, but a cabin works too."

"Bug!" he yelled, laughter bubbling up in his voice. "What is wrong with you?"

"What?" she said defensively, giggling.

"You're a handful today," he groaned under his breath and she smiled. Though his words said one thing, Y/n could tell he was enjoying her energy.

"So, a dinky, old cabin, or what?"

"Whatever you want to build," he sighed.

"You always this agreeable?"

"Only to you."

"Well, I honestly don't have much practice with building cabins and since I want to show off my skills, I mean, that's the whole point of this, right? For me to impress you with my skills?"

Dream laughed so she continued.

"I think we should build a treehouse."

"A treehouse?"

"Mhm. What do you think? I make a pretty bomb treehouse."

"That sounds awesome!" he agreed. "Oh, and it could go from, like, one tree to another and, like, connect with a bridge! Like, the living room on one and the bedroom on another."

"Yeah, exactly! Okay, it's settled."

"What do we need? What do you want me to do?"

"I'm thinking.... we use cobblestone?"

Dead silent. Literally no noise until a few moments later, ".......Bug. This might be a deal-breaker."

"I'm joooking! You think I'd build something out of cobblestone? Who am I, Tommy? No, what's your favorite wood?"

"Dark oak."

"GOOD. Me too. So.... we need dark oak. Or, wait! Okay, hear me out."

"I'm hearing..." Dream prompted as he pressed A and D on his keyboard back and forth, earning a giggle from Y/n. He character was bouncing left and right is excitement.

"Dark oak planks..." she started.

"Mhm."

"Stone bricks..."

"Go on."

"And green wool for accents."

"Well, now you're just pandering."

"No!" she laughed. "Not, like, lime wool. Green wool. It's close to you but not as... obnoxiously blinding."

"I trust your vision. I'll go get materials."

"Perfect, you're the best, Dweam."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled before laughing. "You pick out a tree you think would be best for the main part."

40 minutes later, they were nowhere near being done. Y/n had shown him how to make a good house layout after he placed the floor in the shape of a square. She had yelled at him for it first, of course. They also had the frame of the walls and one bridge but nothing on the other side of said bridge. Not wanting the stream to last six hours since this was only the first part of the date, Y/n made a suggestion.

"What if...."

"What if what?" Dream asked, pausing to look at her character, who had stopped fixing his mistakes. "Did I mess something up?"

"No, I was just thinking. What if we make this the whole house and do a little garden on the other side of the bridge? Or like a little cute thing."

"A little cute thing?" Dream laughed.

"You know, like a thing," she said, knowing she hadn't clarified anything. "I forgot this is only date one, you can't read my mind yet."

"Oh, so there are gonna be future dates? I thought this was just to pay off your debt?"

She paused, playing with her hoodie strings between her left hand. "Well, I guess we'll see."

Dream laughed. "So, what little cute thing did you want to make?"

"We could put a bench facing the sunset and have some potted flowers and hang lanterns and stuff."

"Oh, like a romantic spot?"

"I guess if you wanna think of it like that."

"Sounds cute," he said. "So, we have to change the layout in here then?"

"Nah, I mean, we can just not add a kitchen, we obviously don't need one anyway."

"True. Then all we need is to put our bed down, right?"

"Beds," Y/n corrected.

"Well, when they're together it looks like one big bed."

"Who said we're putting out beds together?"

"Buuuuggg..." he whined. "Come on... lemme put my bed next to yours."

She giggled again. What was with all the giggling, sheesh. "No. There's plenty of space, put it somewhere else." She placed her white bed down in the corner and went across the bridge to bring her idea to life, or, to Minecraft.

It only took about ten minutes and she finished when Dream spoke again. "I think I'm done."

"I am too! Let's take one final look around." She went back inside and immediately noticed his bed right next to hers. She stared at his character and he laughed.

"Whaaat?" he asked shyly and she just sighed, letting it happen. They took a look around and agreed that it was basically the best treehouse in the entire universe, both in Minecraft and real life.

"Bug, you're so good at building," Dream complimented as he ran around the house. "What's your favorite part?"

"Ummm...." She looked around before deciding on the bridge. "I like how you made the bridge. And I like the little touches you added to it. It's nice."

"Thanks! I think the 'little cute thing' you did is the best part."

"Shut up, I can't stand you," she scoffed. "But thanks."

"Hey, Bug?" Dream asked, leading her back into the house. He faced the two beds placed together and she prepared herself for the worst joke of all time. "Is this where all the programming talk happens?"

"I knew it! I knew you were gonna say that! Shut up!" She punched Dream as he laughed loudly and she couldn't stop smiling. "You're such a nerd. You're so annoying."

"OH! I have an idea, wait here."

***

It had been a solid eight and a half minutes of Y/n waiting for Dream and he showed no signs of returning. He was silent too, so she resorted to saying random things to get him to crack.

"When will my husband return from war?" she joked, her voice laced with sadness and longing.

There was a small suppressed laugh from his mic, but still no words.

"Sometimes I think I can still hear him laughing at me."

He must have gotten reeeaaalll close to his mic, because his next words, the first ones he had spoken in almost ten minutes, were whispered but she felt like he was in her ear. "I'll be home soon, baby."

Once again, she was so glad her chat couldn't see her because she literally shivered and her face was so warm she felt like she was glowing.

For the first time all stream, her eyes betrayed her and she looked at her chat as she pulled her hoodie collar up to her face.

user18: BUGSY BEIN REEEAL QUIET

user4: i think i just passed out

user11: wHAT ON EARTH DREAM ADKXKH

user7: BUGSY ON GOD BE REAL WITH US WTF IS GOING ON RN

user2: hey bestie i cant do this rn

user9: they can't talk to each other like that and say they're just friends pleASE

Also for the first time all stream, someone dared to donate at her limit (which, again, was ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS).

karakatara donated $100 I had to donate bc I just HAD to tell you how cute you and dream are! honestly my favorite couple ever and I was just wondering how long you've been dating??? love you and your videos!!!!!

It was $100. She had to answer it. Meaning, she had to use words after Dream said that like that and she wasn't sure that was physically possible right now.

"Aren't you going to answer?" Dream taunted.

"Wha—what, are you—you stream watching, you weirdo?" she forced out. "Why?"

"I wanted to read your chat, they're really funny."

"I haven't been reading it."

"What, why? They've been so funny this whole time."

"I've been too scared to."

"Too scared? Of what?"

Of the jokes that she wanted to be real? Of seeing something so cute only to break her heart when she remembers it's all a joke? Of seeing someone hate her for being so close to Dream? Many things.

"Of seeing something... that boosts your ego."

"What? Oh, come on. Hey, answer the dono. Someone gave you their hard earned money for that."

"Yeah, wait, chat, I had the limit that high so you DON'T donate! Why on earth would you—"

"You're avoiding the question."

"We aren't actually dating! Not actually a couple!" she said with a laugh, though something in her heart was very much against laughing at that fact. "Obviously not."

"Well, it's only the first date, so, we'll see I guess, but..."

"I cannot stand you. Thank you so much for the dono, though, Karakatara. You're insane for... yeah. Thank you so much." She turned her attention back to Dream. "Actually though are you ever coming back?"

"Yeah, what, I'm almost there. I see the you staring out the window. ."

When he got inside, he dropped a blue cornflower for Y/n and stepped back. "Okay, now, give that to me."

She followed, not understanding. "For you, Dream." She dropped the flower.

"Aw, Bug! That's so kind! Aw! Thank you! Here's a flower for you, too!" He dropped her a red poppy and then put two item frames on the wall above their beds. He put the blue cornflower above his bed and she followed by putting the red one above hers. "Now that's my favorite part of the house."

"You didn't want to use the real ones? What, did you lose my flower or something?"

"Hell no!" he defended loudly. "No, I just don't want someone to steal that one. It's in my enderchest for safe-keeping."

He said it so casually like it was no big deal, but her heart soared. She too had his flower in her enderchest.

"This," she said dramatically with a sigh, "is now a treehome."

***

"I already told you I'm the best PVP player out there."

"Bug, honey, I've seen you play Bedwars. You're trash."

"Hey!" Hehe, honey. Shut up brain.

"But that's okay! I'm here to teach you."

Y/n's character stood across a makeshift battlefield from Dream's, an axe in hand and armor that was definitely donated by DreamXD on her body. "This is kinda sexist of you. Assuming I know how to name a cute house but not fight."

"Oh no, that's not—crap. Bug, I'm only basing this off of your streams, which I watch all the time—"

Once again, he said something so casual and yet it still made her heart skip three beats and once again, she grabbed the collar of her hoodie and pulled it up to hide her face. This thing had to be stretched by now from how often it was yanked on in this stream alone.

"—and don't get me wrong, you're great! But you're also good at a lot of stuff and—"

"Dream!" she giggled out. "I'm teasing. I admit you're much better than me."

"I wouldn't say much better but... it's the only thing I could possibly teach you anything about because you're just so good at Minecraft." His tone was sarcastic at this point but she knew he was meaning what he said.

"Whatever. Come on, Dream, show me how it's done."

He actually had a lot of very useful tips that Y/n otherwise would have never thought about. I guess when you tryhard Minecraft, she thought, you learn a thing or two about pvp. It was a complete joke, but she still kept it to herself.

"I could basically beat anyone now," she said confidently.

"Yeah, basically. Except maybe Technoblade."

"Nah, even him."

"Let's see how good you really are. To the death."

"What?" She laughed. "You're gonna try to kill me on our date?"

"Yeah, scared?" Seconds later, a creeper exploded near Dream and he screeched, jumping back. Y/n lost it. She laughed loudly, clutching her stomach.

"Dr-Dream!" She laughed. "What the hell was that?"

"It scared me!" he argued. "Here, I'll protect you," he offered, running past her and killing a skeleton that was shooting towards her.

"I don't need protecting, especially from you! Besides, if you're trying to kill me, you'd let the mobs get me."

"No," he decided. "No one's allowed to kill my Bug."

She was literally going to explode. "Wh—"

"Only I get to."

"Dream!" she scoffed, running to kill the skeleton first. She succeeded and he pouted.

"Hey—I did more damage than you, you just had the final hit."

"Really? Cause to me it looks like I'm your knight in shining armor."

"Nuh-uh," he spat.

"Dream. F5 right now, you're covered in arrows."

There was a pause. "Oh whatever." He hit her once and that's all it took for them to start fighting, throwing jokes and taunts at each other the whole time, eventually resulting in a satisfying win for her.

Dream was slain by Bugsy

"WHAT?! HOW?"

<Tubbo> i thogt you were on a date <Ranboo> well definitley not anymore <Ranboo> is that canon <JackManifoldTV> WOMEN

"What was that about you being better than me?" Y/n teased.

"Oh, come ON! I still had damage from the skeleton, and besides, I taught you everything you know!"

"That just makes you a very good teacher, Dream," she said sincerely and he paused, probably expecting her to insult him instead of compliment him.

"Yeah, suck up now that you've murdered me."

***

They were finally at their final stop, three hours into the stream. Not too bad on time, though this was probably the longest Minecraft date in the history of Minecraft dates. Also the best, but maybe Y/n was biased.

There was a huge tree, obviously built instead of naturally generated, with lanterns hanging down and lighting areas of the dark world around them. Under that was a checkered pattern of carpet, a single chest in the center with a potted plant sitting next to it.

"The carpet is supposed to look like a, uh, what's it called... picnic blanket?" Dream explained as they approached the scene, clearly not happy with how it turned out. "It looks weird. Nothing compared to the treehouse you built."

"We built," she corrected. "And this looks awesome, Dream," Y/n complimented. "It's is also my favorite colors."

"Yeah, I had some help from Karl on that one."

She leaned back in her chair in real life and pressed her hands to her face. Oh, it was so unfair how cute he was when he was shy like this. She glanced at chat, which only made her face go from the temperature of molten lava to basically the sun. She was going to explode.

She hummed, a little giggle coming out as well. "That's cute."

She sat (crouched) on the picnic blanket (piece of carpet) while Dream put a disc in the jukebox off to the side.

"Is that a Tommy disc?" she giggled and Dream laughed.

"No, no, no, don't worry. There shouldn't be any continuations of wars interrupting our date."

"Shouldn't be," she emphasized, noticing someone approaching them from the distance.

Dream was about to speak when Quackity reached them and quickly joined the voice channel.

"Oh no," Dream sighed. "We've come so far."

"AYYEEE WHAT'S GOING ON, MAN?!" Quackity yelled in his Mexican Dream voice, his voice bubbling with laughter. "IS THIS A DATE OR SOMETHING, MAN?"

"Quackity, go AWAY!" Dream ordered, punching the character who had stripped to his underwear. "YOU'RE INDECENT! THERE IS A LADY HERE!"

Y/n laughed, enjoying the scene of fancy Dream hitting naked Quackity away from their picnic dinner.

"I'm your waiter, I'm your waiter!" Quackity said in his normal voice, still laughing. "DREAM! WILL YOU STO— QUIT HITTING ME!"

This had turned chaotic very quickly.

"We don't need a waiter," Dream informed him.

"Then I'm the singing gram you ordered." He started singing a song and Dream groaned. "HEY THERE DELILAH WHAT'S IT LIKE IN NEW YORK CITY—"

"No! You're being a clout chaser, go away!"

"I'm honestly impressed we made it this far without anyone coming into the voice channel," Y/n admitted.

"I paid them," Dream joked.

"You did not!" Karl's voice suddenly came through and Y/n laughed. "We were all just being polite and staying away but we're getting bored! We've been so patient!"

"Yeah, hurry up! We wanna play!!!" Sapnap whined. "Dream, it's not fair for you to steal Bugsy from us for so long."

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed with a laugh as Dream laughed along.

"Just ten minutes! Ten more minutes!" Dream bargained but none of them would have it. "Just so I can say goodbye!"

"No!" George insisted. "Right now!"

"Look, wait, wait, hold on—"

<Sapnap joined the game> <GeorgeNotFound joined the game> <KarlJacobs joined the game>

"—hold ON!" Dream begged, watching as the three boys ran and joined Quackity by the picnic blanket.

Y/n could not stop laughing at all the avatars around them. The date had been so peaceful and cute but all good things must come to a chaotic end.

"Wait, come on, Karl, Karl, Karl," Dream said quickly. "Come here. Bug, just a sec, please. Stay right there."

"Okay," she agreed, curious to see his plan.

Karl followed him and of course Sapnap couldn't help but also join them.

"Okay," Dream whispered loudly, clearly wanting everyone to hear his offer. He crouched and the other two copied. "Just give me ten minutes—"

"Ten?" Sapnap asked loudly.

"Shhh!!! Yes, ten minutes, to say goodbye and, you know, end the date."

There was a long, thick pause. "What exactly are your intentions with Bugsy Games," Karl asked seriously, matching Dream's whisper.

"Well, I wanna make sure she gets home safe, you know, so I'm gonna drop her off and, I don't know, see if maybe.... maybe she'll give me a hug?"

Karl and Sapnap both gasped dramatically and Y/n giggled, sparing a glance at her chat who were all freaking out.

"What the hell?" Quackity said while laughing. He and George were still standing near Y/n so they were just watching the goons with her.

"Bugsy is not that kind of girl!" Sapnap protested. "You think she's just gonna give you a hug?"

"Sapnap! Do you not know how to whisper???"

George let a loud laugh slip before slapping his hand over his mouth, which his mic picked up.

"Okay, Dream, wait, so you're gonna try to... hug her?" Karl clarified. "She won't even let me hug her. Good luck."

"Well, I'm not going to force her into anything but, I don't know, she said something about holding my hand earlier so I just thought maybe there's a possibility—"

"WHAT?" Karl yelled before going back to the whisper. "Okay, okay, don't panic, but that's huge. Dadnap, a word?"

He and Sapnap broke off from Dream and formed their own huddle, except their whispers were incoherent mumblings that weren't even English.

"Oh my gosh," Y/n groaned loudly, an unmistakable laugh behind her words.

"Okay," Sapnap said, rejoining Dream. "We'll give you five minutes but if you take any longer, we're barging in and killing you."

"Yes, sir!" Dream said. "Thank you, sirs."

"Mhm. Okay, break!"

They all uncrouched in sync before Dream ran back to Y/n.

"How did it go?" she asked as if she didn't hear the entire conversation.

"Bad news," he started. "Your dad's want you home."

"Shame, I was quite enjoying my time."

Dream slowly turned towards the boys as if to glare at them for ending the date before turning back to her. "Then, maybe, I don't know, we could do this again sometime?"

"I.... think I'd like that," she said slowly, trying to tease him.

He giggled and told her he was going to drop her off at her house, even though when the date was over, they were all probably gonna mess around together anyway so there was no point in them leaving the group. But it was the thought that counted.

He ended up taking her back to the treehouse, which warmed her heart. She also noticed when they faced each other at front of the door, she could see the four other boys watching them.

"Goodnight, my sweet Bug," he said poshly.

"Goodnight, Dream." He turned away but she stopped him. "Wait!" She moved to his side and made a loud, MUAH, sound before stepping back in front of him. "A kiss on the cheek," she clarified, not wanting him to think she gave him a real kiss.

"Cute," he said under his breath, almost like he didn't mean to say it out loud. "Night night." He turned away and ran down to the others, screaming the whole way. "GUYS, DID YOU SEE THAT? BUG GAVE ME A KISS ON THE CHEEK!! OMG DID YOU SEE, DID YOU SEE?"

Chat was gonna have a field day with that. Actually, with a lot of things that had happened. Oh, she could see the clips and edits now.... oh boy.

**********

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[soulmate-game]

New fic *test*

New Bio!dad Bruce story? I’m testing out this first chapter, and if I like where it’s going I might add it to my growing pile of WIPs. If I have inspiration, I might as well use it. Because of life events stressing me the hell out, I’m throwing any writing plans out the window and I’m purely gonna write to destress right now. Whether that means updating THG or not, or continuing Maribat March, we’ll just have to see how this all pans out. Things are subject to day-to-day change.

I got inspiration from this from rereading my day 1 story for Bio!dad Bruce Wayne month from last year. I’m just gonna change a few things.

—*—*—*—*—*

For once, an unfamiliar face attracted the attention of everyone who caught even a glimpse of them. It wasn’t even because of the person themselves at first, but their dress. The skirt like the most fantastical of storybook ball gowns, fluffy layers of satin over a luxurious petticoat, with a stunning pink floral pattern whose busy appearance was tastefully offset by a shorter, sheer layer of leaf green tulle artistically weaved and somehow sculpted over the floral in order to tame it. The effect turned what should be a grandmotherly pattern into something softer, sophisticated and youthful and yet also reminiscent of fairytale princesses. Over top the short layer of green tulle was an even shorter later of white tulle, almost invisible except for the elegant embroidery of crystal-white vines that twined all over it, connecting the green below it to the bottom-most floral pattern and oddly adding a layer of childishness instead of maturity. At the waist of the dress was a dark plum pink satin ribbon, to separate the elaborate ballgown skirt from the bodice. Attached to the simple ribbon was a large brooch of fabric flowers, with a single plastic ladybug in the center.

The bodice of the dress came up into a cheongsam neckline, but was sleeveless. It was a simple design, of half green and half dark pink, with a white border separating the two. The white border had expertly done embroideries in a soft silver thread that would only be visible close up, the images the thread made being that of fairies and ladybugs dancing around one another.

It was, all in all, a stunning display that made the small eurasian woman wearing them look like absolute royalty. Perhaps a long lost fairy princess. Her black-blue hair was even done up in elaborate looping braids and a braided bun, with silver and green pins that further completed the regal ensemble. And yes, while the expertly done dress was what initially captivated her current audience, it was not what kept them from leaving her alone. That was all her personality, bubbly and bright as her blinding smile. It was a sunny disposition that very few people present had any exposure to at all, and it drew them like a sunflower to the daylight. They could not help but flock closer, or even just stand back and keep themselves turned to her presence. Already she had been at the gala for two hours, but there was no issue. She just kept proving her generosity, admitting she had donated both a dress and a suit of her own making to the charity auction that would begin soon, one of the main attractions of the gala. She skillfully charmed the more snooty of the attendants, and artfully twisted her words so that they felt compelled to donate more money that they truly had no use for. Later, they would remember their donation and wonder what compelled it, but come up with no satisfying answer.

And yet she was entirely unaware of her more silent audience, who stood back and observed. Truth be told, every one of them was glad to not be the center of that attention for a change, to have room to breathe for so long at an event where usually that commodity was so scarce that it demanded a fierce competition for. Compared to her garden of color, they were all shadows in shades of blacks and blues and whites, with a touch of red here and there that was entirely too thematic for their home city. The one who sported a royal blue suit tilted his head at the scene they were all calmly witnessing, his bright azure eyes glittering.

“She’s like magic,” he mused, clearly enchanted despite having not said a single word to the woman. “Perfect socialite. She’s kind, generous, she made that dress and the ones she donated to the auction herself so she’s obviously got an intimidating amount of skill for her age. She even tricks those old fuddy-duddies into spending money. It’s like a dream come true!”

“I don't trust it,” the one to his right said, a man just a few inches shorter in a classic black suit with a red dress shirt underneath. He absently swept his bangs away from his face as he narrowed his eyes at the woman. “It seems too perfect. She doesn’t have any identifiable character flaw, except maybe being a little clumsy and too energetic. She does babble a little… but nothing that actually suggests any depth besides her just being— good. That’s impossible, and I don’t trust it.”

“Tt. I agree with Drake for once. She seems entirely too comfortable with this setting, despite her blushes and rambles,” the one who spoke this like was taller, clearly a teen in the middle of his growth spurt. He, too, wore a plain black suit but his had subtle charcoal embroidery and he wore an emerald-green dress shirt under it that made his matching eyes gleam dangerously. “It seems almost playacted. Expertly so, but nonetheless not entirely genuine.”

“Wow, not many pick up on that. I’m gonna give your observations a solid eight out of ten. They’re all perfectly sound, but not quite complete,” a new voice made all of the silent group stiffen— somehow they had been snuck up on. The newcomer smirked at them as if having fully expected their reaction but still being pleased at being able to evoke it. This was yet another stunner; far too much color in her outfit to be a Gotham native, and far too much skill in the construction for it to signify anything less than extreme influence. She had bright golden-blond hair that was coiled into a low bun, with her bangs artfully curled and arranged to display her crystal blue eyes.

In contrast to the garden-themed dress of the Eurasian woman who had garnered their attention at first, this newcomer was wearing a pantsuit. It was all in a dark honey-gold, in a stiff fabric with construction that made it lay entirely in perfect, straight lines and hug her form in the right places. Black embroidery decorated the long, flared sleeves and pant legs and dripped around the square neckline like a faux necklace. A cape made out of the same material as the rest of the pantsuit was draped on one shoulder. It started out as the same honey-gold color, but it became a gradient as it faded to a solid black at the ends. Gold thread embroidery decorated the solid black bottom of the cape in delicate, deceptively simplistic swirls. The top half of the pantsuit was clearly inspired by military garb, simultaneously rigidly constructed yet fitted, with circular onyx buttons going down the center of the chest and a thick metal belt, all in swirling silver and black, sat perfectly clasped around her waist. It was far more solid-colored and simplistic compared to the fairytale dress in the center, but no less show stopping and luxurious. It simply showcased an entirely different attitude, almost as if the two women could never get along if their personalities matched their outfits.

“And who are you?” The man who had been the center of the group of shadow-like adults spoke up, back straightening to milk every speck of his generous six-feet-and-three-inches of height. This was none other than Bruce Wayne, the host of this annual charity gala. And normally, his current stance would either intimidate or utterly charm whoever it was directed at— but not this pantsuit-clad blond warrior. Her smirk merely widened, and her blue eyes took on a slight shade of teal as if trying to mimic the dangerous ocean depths.

“I am Chloe Bourgeois, the daughter of Andre Bourgeois, the mayor of Paris, and Audrey Bourgeois, the Style Queen. It’s nice to meet you again, Monsieur Wayne,” she introduced herself imperiously. “I also happen to be the best friend of the girl you were just staring at.”

Bruce nodded, but had trouble reconciling this clear powerhouse of a woman with the bratty and entitled preteen he had met years ago, at the last gala she had attended with her mother. “Of course, I didn’t recognize you at first Chloe. You’ve grown a lot since the last Gala I saw you at.”

Chloe wrinkled her nose, clearly not appreciating the reminder. “I was a bitch,” she admitted easily, seemingly not at all bothered by the confession. It caused not only Bruce but also the oldest three of his sons, who had all also met her in the past, to blink in silent shock. “Things have changed. Paris is apparently the perfect chaotic environment right now to promote emotional growth and smack spoiled kids over the head with reality,” she shrugged. Part of the reason her and her whole class had even been able to come to the Gala in the first place was the fact that Bruce wanted to offer the most attacked group of Parisians a respite and some support from their crazy lives. The fact that even Gotham seemed sane in comparison to Paris was a bit of a hard hit for both involved parties, but in the end everyone understood that “more sane” didn’t always equate with “less dangerous.” Considering all that, Chloe had no reason to sugarcoat the situation in her home city. “But it wasn’t easy at all, and Marinette was largely responsible for my improvement too.”

“Marinette?” The heathen who somehow got away with attending a gala in a black leather jacket over a dress shirt and suit pants asked, raising a brow. Chloe nodded.

“The girl you were just goggling at. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the class president and resident workaholic. Does she ever sleep? Nobody knows,” Chloe shrugged.

The blue-suited man, Dick Grayson, shot a suspicious glance at Tim, who was standing to his right, as if he was worried his brother had made a female clone of himself just so he could continue to work hard and never rest. Tim ignored him and sipped from the thermos of coffee he had somehow snuck in.

Bruce cleared his throat to bring the focus back onto himself, and shot his most charming smile at Chloe. “They would have known who she was, if they had read the brief information I gave them about your class. But they never do listen to me,” he complained with good humor. “But back to the original topic, Miss Bourgeois, do you care to correct us on how our observations are lacking?”

Chloe laughed easily, smiling and nodding to indicate Marinette, still stuck in a circle of socialites and not seeming the least bit worn out.

“Of course. First; She is not completely acting. She really is like magic sometimes— disgustingly kind, generous, far too willing to help just about anyone for just about any reason. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever met, as much as it pains me to admit it. But she is exaggerating her personality a bit and hiding the parts she doesn’t want anyone to see, so there is a little acting involved. Just not as much as you seem to think,” Chloe then waved her arm in a flourish as if she were presenting Marinette to them. “In short; behold Mari Dupain-Cheng, the ridiculously likeable, disgustingly cute, extremely philanthropic mask that she shows everyone at public events like this. You don’t see any of the insomnia, or the anxiety, or the self doubt. Just the parts she wants you to see, accompanied with a smile to blind you to everything else,” her all-too-deep blue eyes settled back on Bruce then, a knowing glint shining in them. “Don’t you think that’s ridiculously similar to Brucie Wayne for you, Monsieur? Utterly, ridiculously, similar?”

Bruce grit his teeth. He hadn’t expected anyone else to know about his exceptionally well hidden secret, not even his kids had caught on or found his buried evidence yet. Yet his heiress comes up, nearly flaunting her knowledge in his face with all too many unspoken questions and criticisms.

And her cryptic words had succeeded in making all of his kids look at him with extreme suspicion. Shit.

“What are you saying, Miss Bourgeois?” he cautiously prodded. She hummed noncommittally before dropping the bomb all too casually;

“I’m saying I’ve seen her adoption papers, and you won’t be able to run from her for long Monsieur Wayne. As soon as she gets an opening, she’s going to pounce,” Chloe’s eyes glittered dangerously again. “And nowadays, Marinette doesn’t ever let people escape her. Your problem with adoption has created a rather unique problem, you know. You’re at fault for a large majority of her self confidence issues, and I want you to know that I am not going to forget or forgive that anytime soon.”

“Bruce,” Jason’s voice was dark and threatening. “What is she talking about?”

“Something we don’t want getting in the tabloids,” Yet another new voice popped up, allowing Chloe to smugly sink back into the background.

Somewhere during their discussion, Marinette had ambushed them.

“Chloe and I are very good at locating all the reporters in a room and distracting them, but we’re not infallible and this event has far too much coverage,” Her smile reeked confidence and charm, but this close all the Waynes could see the doubt hiding in her bluebell eyes. “Since I’m about to turn eighteen, I figured this would be as good a time as any to finally confront you. I want to make it clear that I seek nothing from you, except the occasional contact. I would like to keep in touch, if nothing else. But if you are adverse to that… then at least answer my questions after the gala,” her eyes developed a hint of carefully controlled desperation. “Please.”

Bruce met her eyes evenly, trying to read her. But she was difficult, simultaneously too many emotions to sort through in her demeanor and much too little. After an extremely tense moment of silence, his voice came out barely above a whisper:

“You do not want anybody to know?”

And hell, if she didn’t recognize the hidden vulnerability in his voice as the very same she heard in her own far too often. In a much tamer version of her own rambling, he went on:

“I can keep it silent if that is what you want. But I want you to know that I will not be adverse to you admitting it anywhere. I don’t expect you to change your name, but I would not be ashamed of the truth getting out. I am not ashamed of it, of you.”

Marinette’s smile grew a little watery. She had to clear her throat to keep herself from tearing up. “Maybe eventually, but not yet. I… I want to stay a little more anonymous for now. It’s one thing to be a well known designer with good connections. It’s an entirely different thing to be…”

“A Wayne?” Bruce finished, ignoring the daggers that were being stared into his back. “I understand completely.

“Father,” Damian’s voice was all sharp edges and rapidly suppressed panic. “What. Is going. On?”

Marinette shot him an apologetic smile. “Apparently, eighteen years ago, his prerogative was to put the child he actually knew about up for adoption when the mother died in childbirth,” her voice was once again only barely loud enough for them to hear, since she didn’t want any eavesdroppers. “Imagine my surprise when I find out he completely flipped sides only months later.”

--*--*--*--*--*

Hey, so please share your feedback on this. This is just to test out a possible new bio dad, multichapter fic and this is the opening scene I'm trying out. If you like it, please tell me what you like about it and please suggest titles for the story! I love you guys' feedback so much!

[hamliet]

Dabi’s Missing Heart

So I’ve been seeing two main responses to Dabi’s character as portrayed in BNHA 292, both of which I feel touch on a very surface understanding of his character and role in the story despite seeming like opposite takes.  

Take #1: 

Dabi is an unfeeling monster created to show the redeemability of Shigaraki and Enji in contrast with his true eeeevil villainy! He will never be redeemed! 

Take #2: 

Dabi is a sweet softy who did nothing wrong! He will never be redeemed because of this chapter which is so out-of-character! 

Note how they both have the same endpoint. I’m not actually gonna address the redemption question much because I can’t fathom what this panel foreshadows if not Touya’s salvation (alive): 

I’m not looking to debate this either; I’m just putting it here because I know it’ll come up if I don’t.

Instead, I wanna address Dabi’s character. He’s my favorite, and I’ve been asked a few different times whether I enjoy him as a villain or as an uwu poor baby, and my answer is always both. 

Dabi is a villain. This chapter’s rampage is, in my opinion, not remotely out of character for him. But neither is it the summation of his character, and he surely is not meant to make Enji look good by comparison. 

So, who is Dabi? 

Dabi is kind of a flaming jerk, and that’s why I like him. He’s an abuse victim who gets to be angry and crass and sharp. He pushes people away because he doesn’t want to open up to them and get burned (heh). He’s just like Shouto in that, except with a dose of murder. 

Believe it or not, this is a very realistic response to abuse, and very common too. It’s good to see that representation. If the writing was indeed just “he’s bad get rid of him,” well, that would of course be a terrible representation. But seeing a mean victim get redeemed? Now that’s some good sh*t I’m here for. 

If you want a sweethearted, misunderstood soft victim, there is one in MHA, and that’s Shigaraki. Dabi is not these things, but that does not mean he’s not a victim or that he’s somehow an unfeeling monster.

You see, Shigaraki is a heart character. Dabi’s the mind. (Heart and mind characters are a literary pattern that is utilized in literature across the globe; it’s not an eastern/western cultural thing. It has its roots in alchemy.) The problem is that you can’t have a heart without a mind nor a mind without a heart. If you lack one, you’re missing half the picture, and you won’t accomplish anything. 

We see this with Shigaraki in his quest to look for ideals, something to believe in, purpose to justify/enable acting on his feelings/emotions. 

Dabi, in contrast, has conviction and ideals, but eschews any kind of personal connection and care. 

So, both Shigaraki and Dabi struggle to unite heart and mind--but they need to do precisely this. 

It’s not a coincidence that Shigaraki expressly envisions both Dabi and Himiko when musing on what his purpose is. 

Yet Shigaraki is able to unite more easily with Himiko as opposed to Dabi because Himiko is also a heart character. She claims to be motivated by extreme empathy that warps around to become a lack thereof (wanting to be who she loves).

Shigaraki’s motivations are basically revenge for hero society not saving him--which encompasses both a deep internal and external (societal) need for empathy and a need for better ideals. Shigaraki needs Himiko and Dabi. They’re a trio, and all of them need each other to grow. But Himiko, being similarly driven expressly by emotions, is easier for Shigaraki to understand and work with. 

The irony is that Dabi is actually a very, very emotional character as well. But what he does (as is typical for a mind character) is repress them, compartmentalize, dissociate. He constantly pushes people away, yet admits privately, to himself, that he’s primarily (and paradoxically) motivated by family. This is emotional, yet Dabi claims he “overthought” and, according to other translations, “snapped” can be actually be read as “went crazy” as a result over overthinking (note: both are mind allusions). 

Dabi repressing who he is--Todoroki Touya--is symbolic of him repressing his emotional side, because again, family and emotions are tied together for his character. Now his identity is acknowledged, and Dabi claims to be losing his mind (again), claims that he can’t feel, and yet is completely consumed by emotions. Like, does anyone think he’s being methodical and calculating this chapter? 

It’s not just negative emotions (rage, hate) that drive Dabi in response to his family. His seeking belonging and emotional connection is present even in a chapter where he tries to murder two members of his family and laughs off the risk to the life of another. 

See, Dabi first asked Shouto to validate his pain:

But like, given the circumstances, of course Shouto doesn’t really respond well. How Shouto responds is this: 

Shouto’s words are triggering. And keep in mind I am not blaming Shouto: he’s in shock and he’s a kid. I’m merely trying to explain how it likely comes across to Dabi. 

You’re crazy. Your feelings don’t matter. You don’t really care about Natsuo! You’re a villain and that’s ALL you are. Not a brother or abuse survivor. Just a villain. 

So, uh, yeah, Dabi then retreats back to being unable to feel, dissociating as has always been his coping mechanism. But that’s not all: Dabi’s been repressing for so long that of course he’s gonna go a little insane in response to the dismissal of everything he’s trying to point out. Why wouldn’t he? His family dismissed his pain back then and now again, and so, without that heart, without those emotions, principle is all Dabi has. This has been present since long before Stain’s ideology came into his life: 

Now, he answers this question of existence through Stain’s ideology.  Purpose is all he has, and to him, Shouto and Best Jeanist are dismissing that too. Why are they dismissing it? Best Jeanist dismisses him for an ideal: the overall good of hero society. Shouto has a mixture of this ideal and also like, genuine shock and pain. 

Back to Dabi. Dabi’s summation of himself and his purpose is incorrect and harmful to himself and others. I’m not excusing him or justifying, just explaining. It’s a tragic reflection of what Endeavor raised both Touya and Shouto to be (and thereby ironic that BJ uses an ideal to dismiss him): 

Instead of being raised to be the symbol of hero society--as Endeavor intended--he exists to destroy it. The root is the same: Dabi assumes he exists for hero society, as a tool. He dehumanizes himself, hence why his quirk physically harms him (which also fits his almost religious zeal for Stain’s ideology). But it is not all Dabi is. He’s not a tool, he’s a person, but to acknowledge he’s a person involves acknowledging his heart/emotional desires, and that gets to my next point.

Dabi’s not a reliable narrator about himself. At all. I’ve written about Dabi and dissociation before. So let’s look at Dabi’s devotion to his ideals, the ideals he puts above people and claims he only cares about... because there are moments where Dabi goes against those ideals. 

For one example, Dabi’s gone against those ideals when he’s allowed his personal need for revenge (an emotional/heart motivation) to overcome his longterm plan. Like, he was fully about to get himself killed here, even though that would likely mean no one would know the corruption of the Todoroki family and hero society, just for the chance to prove to his father that he hurt him. 

In addition, I’ve talked before about how Dabi’s the only character in the entire damn manga to comment that maybe using child soldiers is not okay. While it’s not explicitly stated, it’s reasonable to conclude that Dabi considers the abuse of children in hero training a sin of hero society that ought to be purged (hence, part of his ideals). 

That said, I have also pointed out that Dabi has gone after children in the past when it benefits his mission (Bakugou would like a word). So let’s look at four examples of Dabi and his principles concerning kids--since, after all, he claims to be motivated by heroes who hurt kids. 

Firstly, Dabi’s “save the cat” when he spared Aoyama. 

Why did he spare Aoyama? We can only speculate, but it seems quite likely there are two reasons: 1) hurting Aoyama would not add anything to his overall goal of downing hero society, and 2) a terrified, cowering kid might just have been a teeny bit familiar to Dabi. Here, his ideals--destroying hero society--either take a backseat to a reflection of his personal pain (and)/or his ideal of not abusing kids directly contradicted his ideal of bringing down hero society. But the important part is that in this instance, Dabi chose mercy and the goal of bringing down hero society was jeopardized as a result. 

So then why did he attack Tokoyami, Nejire, and Shouto this arc? Well, Dabi does things he knows are wrong for the sake of accomplishing his overall purpose. He does things he knows hurt himself for this purpose. This isn’t new. If he can’t be acknowledged, can’t exist as a person with emotions, then he at least will ensure he still has a purpose.  

In addition, let’s look at what sets Dabi off in all of these instances. (Again, this isn’t me saying “well actually Dabi’s justified.” He’s not. I’m just pointing to what’s in the text to explain the machinations beyond “bad guy do bad.”)

Dabi tries to reason with Tokoyami, pointing out that Twice was doing essentially what Tokoyami is doing: trying to save his friend(s), but Tokoyami doesn’t listen (also again: not me saying Tokoyami should have listened--realistically, in this situation, it makes sense Tokoyami trusted his mentor!)

Only after his reasoning was rejected did Dabi go to flames mode. He could have just let Tokoyami save Hawks, but instead he really wanted to kill Hawks and that overrode his other principles. Was this just because of his furthering his goal--killing the #2 hero would help destroy hero society--or because of a sense of personal revenge for Twice? That’s open for interpretation (in my opinion, it’s likely a mixture, because again, it tends to intertwine more than Dabi likes to think it does). His principles and/or emotions are brushed aside, and Dabi Does Not Like That. 

Dabi does this again with Shouto this chapter, asking him where he stands on their family issues, and gets brushed aside, and then Shouto goes into his rage mode and Dabi responds. Again, not saying Shouto is rational here or that he should side with Dabi’s murderous plan, but like, his words really don’t come across well to Dabi. 

Dabi going after Shouto after explaining things, asking Shouto for help, and then having his pain dismissed is pretty much a repeat of Tokoyami. When Dabi’s pain is dismissed, he says fine, let’s aim for the highest principle possible: making Stain’s will a reality, and damn any emotional ties. 

Dabi’s obsession with ideals, you might say, is a smokescreen to cover his own pain. Far from feeling nothing, he feels very deeply. (I promise I’m getting to Nejire.) 

So what does this indicate? Well, that Dabi does have a heart and a conscience. But when he lets his heart act, when his heart reaches out, he gets burned. His heart jeopardizes his overall purpose, so he most often dissociates himself from it. But by pretending he doesn’t have a heart, he dehumanizes himself, and he projects that dehumanization onto others (see: seeing Shouto as an extension of Endeavor, when that’s actually the precise image Shouto is trying to shed). 

It’s not a coincidence that Shigaraki has been unconscious during the entire confrontation with Endeavor, nor is it a coincidence that Himiko has been MIA. But, Shigaraki wakes up a bit this chapter not only when hearing Dabi spout about how hero society needs to burn, an ideal/the thing Shigaraki lacks, and through a less important but still-ideal-driven character in Spinner asking him to accomplish his supposed ideal of destruction, but when Dabi saves Shigaraki and Spinner. 

Dabi doesn’t burn Nejire for lols (not that this makes it better because it doesn’t) or even for ideals. He burns her to save Shigaraki and Spinner, because they are his links to full humanity right now. 

(Again, this is also dissociation and projection: Endeavor did this! No, Dabi, you did. You’re perpetuating violence against kids rather than stopping it.)

But anyways, when Dabi calls upon heart, Shigaraki wakes. He lends Gigantomachia and thereby Dabi and the league power. 

Dabi can only grow and actually accomplish anything related to his ideals (fixing hero society) through accepting a heart--even though that will likely mean some painful surgery to shift his ideals to accommodate said heart, because pure ideals don’t leave much room for humanity. He needs to feel to actually change anything, because right now he’s just making things worse (hence, the need for saving and redemption).

I know the League aren’t the protagonists of the serIes, but their complaints aren’t exactly incorrect either (if anything they’re almost a little too valid). But through growing together, Dabi, Shigaraki, and Himiko might actually be able to accomplish something, and get themselves in a place where they can be reached and saved by Shouto, Deku, and Ochaco. Because to be saved, the kids will have to acknowledge the villains’ pain and complaints, and do something about it. 

[froggysoup]

wowee

Alrighty I’m just gonna ramble on about my thoughts on the new quest (and things in general because I talk too much) and pray that at least some of it ends up coherent. Spoilers, by the way.

I’ve had this first theory since the last archon quest but got nervous and didn’t share, so here it is now. Maybe it’s an obvious thing that I’m just in the dark about, but I’m fairly sure that Dainsleif’s “Boughkeeper” title has a large part in explaining why he knows so much about things he really shouldn’t. From the newest quest, we learn that he is actually cursed with immortality, which could explain some it, but the guy still knows too much for it to simply be chalked up to his age. He’s literally the designated narrator for half of the official videos and knows a lot about what and who he talks about.

I suspect that the ley lines serve as an information network of some sort, and that Dainsleif’s position as Boughkeeper allows him access to it in one way or another. The only other places we really see the whole tree/branch thing is with the ley line branches, Irminsul trees, the Frostbearing Tree, and the tree who once had roots that spanned the whole continent (which we know the ley line branches were once directly a part of), all of which are connected in a way that I haven’t quite figured out yet. 

Now, from those screens that come up while the game is loading, we know that supposedly, the intertwined roots of the Irminsul trees far beneath the earth determine the pattern of the ley lines above, and we also know that ley lines are a “mysterious network that links the whole world together” and that they are said to remember everything that happens in the world. From this, I don’t think it’d be that much of a reach to say that Dainsleif can access that somehow.

Next. I do think there’s a pretty good chance that the Archons were involved in the destruction of Khaenri’ah. The Viridescent Venerer set actually tells us how the former Dendro Archon died during the cataclysm while in Khaenri’ah, which. Uh. That’s kind of really incriminating. 

However! Obviously, we’ve only heard this from Dainsleif’s point of view and he’s pretty biased considering his whole thing. We don’t know how much control Celestia has over the Archons’ actions, either, and I’m about 98% sure that some of them weren’t into it, and likely didn't even have a choice. Like, look at the Tsaritsa. Her whole thing is that sometime during the cataclysm, she witnessed something so view-shattering and unjust that her whole thing now is to “burn away the old world” and overthrow Celestia. 

I also can’t see Venti and Zhongli going along with the destruction of an entire nation with no hesitation. Like, obviously, again, Dainsleif is going to be biased, but from what we’ve been told Khaenri’ah didn’t even do anything divine-retribution-worthy. Celestia just seems be into dropping skyscraper-sized pillars and other things onto nations who get too good at being independent, for whatever reason. The new quest is definitely supposed to make us question the current systems of this world but I don’t think we’re meant to hate Venti or Zhongli, at least yet. I think they’re even kind of meant to be seen as the “best” out of the Archons, so to speak. (Not that I think they’re perfect, by any means.)

Like, just look at the way they’ve been presented to us, versus how some of the other Archons have been introduced (Storyline Trailer, my beloved). 

Raiden Shogun is made out to be some self-absorbed divine ass-kisser who doesn’t have humanity’s best interests at heart (which we know is supposed to be a thing you do as an Archon). She’s doing her whole confiscating visions and oppressive rule thing in an effort to be seen as more divine, but, as Dainsleif puts it, “what do mortals see of the eternity chased after by their god?”

The Dendro Archon/God of Wisdom is implied to not actually be as smart as somebody with that title is supposed to be, one way or another, and either has turned a blind eye to or blatantly encourages the “push for folly” in Sumeru. Can’t tell exactly what that would mean or entail (thanks, Dainsleif), but obviously. Doesn’t sound good.

Dainsleif says of the Hydro Archon that she “lives for the spectacle of the courtroom, seeking to judge all other gods. But even she knows not to make an enemy of the divine.” While the not making an enemy of the divine thing I get (I guess, coward), the whole “seeking to judge all other gods” bit seems very “remove the log from your own eye”-y. Like, you’re an Archon, too, what are you trying to prove here?

The Tsaritsa is- well, the Tsaritsa, as we know. While I do think we are meant to sympathize and agree with at least part of her core ideals and motives, she still is the one behind the Fatui and is, by extension, a war criminal. She also apparently has “no love left for her people”. It’s a bit of a complicated relationship that we have with her.

The only ones who Dainsleif does not directly slander in the trailer are Venti, Zhongli, and Murata. While I don’t think we have enough on her to come to any conclusions about her character yet, Venti does say of her that she is a “wayward, war-mongering wretch”. Now, he does also jab at Rex Lapis during this voiceline, but unlike with Murata we know that those two are buddy-buddy and it was very likely that it was “buffoon (affectionate)”.

Venti and Zhongli are also the first two Archons we encounter, which is important for multiple reasons.

Gonna derail for a bit because I don’t know where to start. But. The game very likely will (or at least should) end with no Archons.

Obviously, especially in light of the new quest (although this stuff has been floating around since the Dragonspine update and even before that), Celestia Bad. Like, cataclysmically bad (lmao). In fact, I’m highly certain that you could trace basically every problem in this game back to them, some way or another.

Even our main “villain” groups all seem to be gunning for Celestia. The Fatui obviously work for the Tsaritsa, who’s made it very clear that she plans to rebel against the divine. The Abyss Order, too, has their Deeply Upsetting plan of creating a mechanized god with the power to “topple the divine thrones of Celestia”.

Evidence points to an overthrow of Celestia at some point in the game, and considering how being an Archon or even a god is directly tied to Celestia, yeah. No more Celestia means no more Archons.

But even besides that, there’s a lot there to suggest that that’s where things are going.

I find it interesting how Mondstadt’s our prologue chapter, or that there’s even a prologue chapter of the game at all. Prologues are meant to set up ideas that will be present throughout the rest of the story, and Mondstadt does exactly that. Venti’s let the people of Mondstadt govern themselves and has almost completely been out of the equation for millennia, even if that means he is significantly weaker than his godly peers. When asked why he chose to do that instead of remain in charge and just give them freedom, Venti responds that “freedom, if demanded of you by an archon, is really no freedom at all.” This sentiment is also brought up in the Mondstadt portion of the storyline trailer, and the traveler even has a whole voiceline debating what Venti really meant when he said that.

This idea of freedom and that humanity is capable on its own is further reinforced in Chapter 1, in which Liyue learns to move on from the death of its Archon. Zhongli set up his plan with the intention of testing if his people could stand on their own legs without him there to guide them, and they do. He even expresses how pleasantly surprised he is that the Qixing were able to take advantage of the situation and seize control like they did. Keqing gives us this whole speech when we first meet her about how the adepti and gods underestimate humanity’s capability and how Liyue’s future is meant to be a godless one. This, in a way, extends to the rest of the continent as well.

In the storyline trailer (which I quote too often, I’m sorry. My favorite and only party trick is that I got bored one day and memorized the whole thing), Dainsleif spends the entire Khaenri’ah section musing about something similar. 

“In the perpetual meantime of a sheltered eternity, most are content to live and not to dream. But in the hidden corner where the gods’ gaze does not fall, there are those who dream of dreaming,” is obviously about the people of Teyvat vs. those in Khaenri’ah. While a future under the care of the Archons is a safe and reliable one, is it one that allows humanity to chase its potential to the fullest? Khaenri’ah was destroyed for flourishing like it did without gods, both as a punishment and a warning to everybody else.

“Some say a few are chosen and the rest are dregs, but I say we humans have our humanity.” This is in reference to visions. Throughout the game, this idea that, at least in the eyes of the gods, vision holders are more important than those without them, is constantly brought up.

In the commission “Leaves on the Wind”, Dr. Edith expresses how it often seems as if vision holders are the main characters of this world. From the notebooks we receive during the “Time and Wind” world quest, we learn that the Sumeru Academia actually discourages non-vision holders from conducting outdoor surveys, and how “these days... trying to be an academic when you don't have a Vision, it's really restricting...” Dainsleif even just straight up asks us what we think the gods think of vision holders and people in general during question time in that one quest.

In Lisa’s stories, we learn that the reason for her laziness is that a part of her is afraid of learning or doing too much, after witnessing what “uninhibited erudition” can do to people during her time in Sumeru. She also senses that something beneath the surface is happening regarding the distribution of visions. “For whatever reasons, the gods gave humans the key to changing everything, but they did not explain the cost involved. Lisa grew fearful of the truth.”

I forgot exactly where I was going with that last paragraph, but yeah. There’s definitely sketchy shit going on behind the scenes in regards to visions, possibly to keep people either quiet or complacent. I suspect it may even be to restrict access to certain knowledges or even the elements themselves. Anyways.

I lose track of my thoughts too often. Fuck. Right. Mondstadt and Liyue served as good examples of society under the rule of the Archons, and in Chapter 2 we will encounter our first bad example, showing us the pros and cons of the current situation. However, despite Zhongli and Venti seeming to genuinely care for their people, humanity’s wellbeing shouldn’t be reliant on how their god is feeling that day, and they shouldn’t have to look to the gods for a chance to become something greater than themselves, either.

Um. All that’s to say I’m just very excited to see where the story will go, and if Zhongli’s contract with the Tsaritsa is any indication then it’s gonna go somewhere good. Celestia bad, Archons bad but also not bad but also bad, I don’t know if what I just wrote actually even counts as understandable, thank you and good night.

[lin-nin]

Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 12

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a     desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it? Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer:   Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

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Chapter 12: Called In Favors

< | Previous Chapter The weeks had blurred together once you had properly settled into your new home. Your days were spent often either reading something you found in the library that wasn't at your castle, or training with Techno. The training had been rough on you, horribly so. Bruises were blooming all over your body, especially your back. Despite getting better on your feet and with your response time to Techno, he never failed to knock you down at least a dozen times before calling it a day. It was frustrating, but definitely served to motivate you.

The boys had taken to watching you sometimes, with Tommy and Tubbo cheering you on. Wilbur would sometimes call out advice from the sidelines, and it was something you were thankful for. Beyond the training, you often met with Eret to go over wedding plans. The two of you had grown extremely close over the weeks, swapping stories as he fussed over your dress. You appreciated his friendship like no other, extremely content to have made a proper friend.

The wedding was only a couple of days away now, and you were giddily pacing around Eret. He laughed at you, moving to grab your arm to stop you. “Relax, pacing isn’t going to make them show up any sooner,” He murmured, and you couldn’t help the impatient way you twirled.

“I know. I just miss them and want them to hurry up,” You practically whined, toying with the sleeves of your dress. Dream and George were supposed to be showing up today, and staying for about a week. Excitement coursed through you the moment you had woken up, the excitement blatantly clear in your eyes.

“You miss them, don’t you?” He gave you a soft look and smile, letting go of your arm to let you pace again. 

“Always. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be, but I still miss them. George is my brother, I naturally miss his guidance. Dream is my partner in crime, we’ve always been joined at the hip. I feel lost without him by my side.” You paused by the window, peering out at the courtyard. Tubbo and Tommy were squaring off, pointing swords at each other. It was always interesting to watch them fight, how seriously they could take it, swinging as if they had the intent to take a limb off each other. Only to turn around a few moments later and tackle the other and laugh, as if they weren’t practically at each other's throat. It was endearing in a sweet way.

“I see. I suppose your restlessness would make sense, then.” He wandered over to stand beside you, watching Tommy and Tubbo as well. The two swung their swords at one another, practically anticipating one another’s movements. You yearned to have the added danger of sharp objects in your training. While you did enjoy the hand-to-hand, it wasn’t nearly as exciting as what you were watching.

“Do you think Techno will let me fight with my dagger any time soon?” You mused, turning to look at Eret. He hummed, shrugging slightly.

“He’s probably going to try and make sure your hand-to-hand is nearly perfect before he lets you actively touch your dagger.” You pouted at that, huffing a little.

“That’s boring, it gets so repetitive. Not that it isn’t useful, of course it is. I was just hoping to learn to use a weapon much sooner.” You grumbled, moving away from the window. The ballroom had most of its decorations up, leading to it feeling like a completely different place. You ran your fingers along the table, tracing the grain on the wood.

“It’s good if you’re finding it repetitive. He might actually let you use your dagger soon. Ask him about it later,” Eret laughed, following behind you. As he did, you could hear Tommy yell obscenities at Tubbo, making you shake your head. Loud as ever.

“He better. Wonder if he’ll let me show off for Dream and George.” You gave a crooked grin. You could already imagine the frustration on their faces as you trained. Your training sessions were nearly daily anyways, and you hoped that Techno didn’t choose today of all days for a day off. You really wanted to show off and make it known that you could hold yourself in a battle. Especially with Techno.

“He’s cocky when it comes to his fighting, he’ll want to show off. You won’t even have to ask him.” You couldn’t help but grin at that, eyes alight. Good. You really wanted to be able to see how the two would react. You had a rough feeling on how Dream would react, but you really wanted to see if he would be proud after all of it was said and done. After all, learning to fight from literally nothing wasn’t a small task.

“Good! That’s all I ask for the time being. I’ll ask about my dagger later, then.” Eret only gave you an amused look, watching you return to wandering around the room. You were just incredibly eager to see your brother again. Even though it was for your wedding, a thought that had your stomach flipping. You still had trouble picturing it as your own wedding, despite the fact you had helped through every single step of it.

“It’ll probably have to wait until after your marriage. It’s already bad enough you’re all bruised up before the wedding, we don’t need any cuts showing up,” Eret teased and you huffed, acutely aware of how it would look. Neither George nor Dream would be pleased about the bruises on your forearms from blocking hits from Techno. Not that you cared too much what they thought about them. You were happy that they were there because it meant you were learning. You were improving on top of it, too. You had to be.

“I suppose I can be okay with that. After the wedding I better be using my dagger, or Techno is gonna have a few problems.” You settled your hands on your hips, puffing out your chest.

“Somehow I doubt you could give him very many problems.” Eret’s laugh was contagious, easily breaking through your initial pout.

“Maybe I could, you don’t know!” You wandered to stand beside him, peering as he messed with some of the decorations, making sure they sat as he wanted. “Do we need to do a final dress fitting?”

“No, the only thing you need to do is take it easy and prepare yourself for your wedding tomorrow.” Eret reached over, patting your shoulder. You huffed. You had been antsy the entire time, wanting to make sure everything was perfect. While it was an arranged marriage, it was still your one and only wedding. You were going to make sure things were perfect for it. As much as you could, anyways.

“That means do nothing until George and Dream get here. Who knows when that’ll be,” You whined, dramatically leaning against him. He laughed, head shaking.

“Realistically? Anytime soon. Didn’t the prince say they were planning to leave early morning?” You nodded at the question, craning your head towards the main hall. They would be arriving soon, and it caused excited butterflies to swirl around your stomach. Eret noticed, pushing you gently towards the door. “Go wait for them before you wear a path into the floor.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, grinning thankfully at your friend as you took off towards the door. The morning sun beat down on the ground outside, and you giddily went to the same spot Philza, Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur had stood for your arrival. You rocked back and forth on your heels, staring down the stone path expectantly. As if they would appear if you so much as blinked.

“You seem excited,” A voice mused from beside you. You yelped in surprise, jumping a little. Techno stood beside you, looking down in amusement at you. When the hell had he snuck up on you? Were you really that focused on Dream and George’s arrival?

“I am, I missed them,” you replied, turning your gaze towards the path again. A fond smile was painted on your face, eyes bright with excitement.

“They should be here soon. The carriage was seen pulling into the capital not too long ago.” The words only fuelled your excitement, and it took everything in you to not start pacing again. You really were restless with the excitement, the movement felt like the only way to expel it. Other than being able to hug George properly. You simply continued to rock on your heels, excitedly listening out for the sound of them. Under the assumption you didn’t see them first.

You heard the steady pace of horse hooves before you saw the carriage, though you stood on your tip-toes. You grasped onto Techno’s arm for balance as you craned in an attempt to see. From your peripheral you could see him look at you, that amused smile on his face. His hand covered yours on his arm, allowing you to properly look for the carriage as it pulled up.

You were practically bouncing when it came to a stop, fingers curling into Techno’s arm. You didn’t even care who came out of the damned thing first, you were going to hug them. Techno laughed as you stared, watching the door open with such eager anticipation. You launched yourself away from Techno, throwing yourself at the man who stepped out of the carriage.

Arms wrapped around you, a startled laugh ringing in your ears as you were spun around before your feet returned to the ground. “Good to see you too.” You pulled back a little, grinning at George fondly.

“I missed you so much,” You held onto him tight, not wanting too much to part.

“It’s been a rough few weeks, hasn’t it?” He reached up to ruffle your hair, much to your protest.

“Did you miss me too?” Dream’s voice called as he stepped down onto the stone. Excitement lit up your face as you untangled yourself from your brother.

“Dream!” You called excitedly as you threw yourself at him next. He picked you up as your arms wrapped around his neck, holding you tight against him. “Of course I missed you, idiot. You never replied to any of my letters.” You buried your face into his neck, relishing the familiar scent of fresh linen and roses, as well as the sharp tang of metal. It was comforting to smell it again.

“I was busy with a few things, but I promised I read each and every one of them,” He assured you, hands squeezing your waist. Techno cleared his throat from behind the two of you, and you sheepishly pulled away from your friend at that. You offered Dream a gentler smile, turning to offer it to Techno as well. The same look he had given Dream back when you set off in the carriage, except it was a little more off putting now that you could actually see his facial expression. The down tilt of his mouth, the way his eyes were narrowed. It was enough to make you take a few large steps back from Dream, closer to Techno.

“I’m glad to see you made it here safely. I take it the trip was okay?” Techno mainly addressed George as he spoke, and you wandered back to his side. Standing between George and Dream held a different feeling than it had previously. George followed when Techno moved towards the castle. His hand settled in the middle of your lower back to guide you, an action that made heat rise to your cheeks. You were used to him resting a hand on your back, but it was always between your shoulder blades.

“It was, thank you. Have things been fine here?” George upheld the conversation, and you just let the two of them talk. Between the hand on your back and the heated stare you could feel burning holes into you, you didn’t think you trusted your voice at the moment.

“I’ll let you show them around. Come to the courtyard when you’re finished,” Techno addressed you, hand finally moving away from your back. You missed the touch just the slightest, but met Techno’s pointed look evenly. For training. He meant to meet him there to train. A smile blossomed on your face as it clicked.

“Alright, I shouldn’t take too long.” You watched him leave towards the courtyard, but not before he narrowed his eyes at Dream once more. It was going to be a long week, wasn’t it? You tried to ignore it, focusing instead on showing them around.

“He’s much less intimidating without the mask,” George mused, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“He’s only intimidating when he wants to be.” You led them towards the east wing, entirely forgoing the west wing. It was mostly just servants quarters and work rooms, so truly Dream and George didn’t need to know too much about it. You informed them as much, too.

“Where’s your dagger?” Dream questioned as you lead them into the dining hall, causing you to look at your hip. You hadn’t been wearing it since you never used it yet, and taking it off during training was just an extra step you didn’t care for.

“I haven’t learned to use it yet, though I’ll probably start learning to use it after the wedding.” You grinned bright, and George made a sound of disagreement.

“I still don’t think you need to be learning to fight. Surely you won’t be in a position where Technoblade can’t protect you.” You shrugged, leading them down the wings and pointing out various rooms.

“I don’t think I will be put into the position, but it doesn’t hurt to have the knowledge should it be needed.” You led them up the stairs next, heading towards the rooms they would be staying in.

“Just don’t get yourself hurt. I don’t want to get a letter about that.” Dream gave you a pointed look and you laughed, head shaking. 

“I won’t! I take good care of myself!” You defended, watching them examine the rooms. When they were satisfied and returned to your side, excitement bubbled in your stomach. This meant you were closer to training, all you had to do was change and head to the courtyards.

“Going to come with me to the courtyard?” You asked with an excited smile, heading in the direction of your room. 

“I don’t see why not. You seem awfully excited.” George raised an eyebrow and you grinned, peering out of the windows as you passed the ones that overlooked the courtyard. You could see the training patch from here, and you could very clearly see Techno on it, across from Philza. Both had swords drawn, practically dancing around each other and calculating the others movements. They moved with a sense of clear familiarity, around both each other and their blades. It wasn’t the first time you had seen Techno train using his sword, but it always enraptured you every time.

“I am.” Your voice was soft as George and Dream also glanced out the windows to see what you were looking at. Just in time for Techno to knock Philza’s sword out of his hand, the weapon bouncing along the ground. His shoulders heaved, a cocky grin on his face when his uncle raised his hands in defeat. He sheathed the sword, hand raising to wipe sweat from his brow. He’d clearly been training from the moment he’d been out there.

As if aware you were watching his gaze tilted up, looking towards the window. More specifically, towards you. He gave a grin your way, hand raising in a small wave which you couldn’t help but return. He raised his eyebrows, almost as if a silent question on if you were almost done and you couldn’t help but nod excitedly. From beside you, Dream huffed, especially at the smug smile on Techno’s face. You didn’t care, simply moving away from the window to move to your room faster.

“I have to change, but then we can go to the courtyard.” You practically ran into your room, eager to change into your pants and boots as opposed to the dress. You eyed the exposed bruises on your forearms, knowing full and well the reaction you were about to get. You slid out of your room, grinning up at George and Dream. “Okay, so, I may be about to go train-” You slowly started, warily eyeing their reactions. George made a noise of protest, eyes going wide. Dream shot a hand out, grabbing your wrist and lifting your arm up. The dim lighting in the hall illuminated the bruises of varying shades, as well as the scowl on Dream’s face.

“This is what happens when you train? You’re covered in bruises!” Dream demanded and you flinched a little, slipping your arm from his grasp.

“It’s from blocking hits, it’s not like he’s trying to hurt me,” You grumbled, sidestepping the blonde. The look on his face had made you uneasy, and you didn’t want to look at it. You just wanted to get to the courtyard. 

“You don’t know that! There’s no telling if he wants to hurt you or not!” Dream persisted from behind you. You took a breath, pausing on the stairs and looking at him.

“Dream, I am absolutely fine. You’ll see.” You didn’t give him too much time to react, darting down the stairs. You didn’t want a lecture- you wanted to train. You wanted to have fun. You could hear the two following behind you, as well as George’s soft muttering. Presumably he was reassuring the taller, but you didn’t care to listen to what they were saying.

The warmth of the sun was definitely welcome as it hit your skin. It was a familiar feeling, and you couldn’t help the eager grin on your face as you looked to Techno. He offered you a faint smile as he messed with his hair. He tugged it back, looping it into a loose bun. You raised an eyebrow at it, coming to stand across from him. “Taking this seriously enough to pull your hair back?” You questioned, swinging your arms across your chest in a stretch.

“I have to show your brother how much you’ve improved, don’t I?” He shifted, taking up a fighting stance once more. You naturally fell in line, mimicking his stance. George awkwardly stood to one side, Dream watching with a glare and his arms across his chest. Back behind Techno stood Philza, curiosity clear in his gaze. He hadn’t particularly watched the two of you train in the past, so it seemed now was the time he picked. Tommy and Wilbur were sat on the ground at his feet, watching with varying curiosity and interest.

You rolled your shoulders, before charging at Techno as you often did. You didn’t even have to think too much anymore, feigning to one side and shooting a hand out to clip his side. He had made sure very early on you learned to use your size to your advantage. That showed here as he turned, moving to hit you. You narrowly blocked the hand with your arm, jumping back as his foot shot out. The hit would have landed on your calf had it landed, and you were kinda thankful it had missed this time.

He didn’t relent on you as you danced on your toes, exchanging hits evenly. You stumbled when his hand passed your face, making you dodge to your best ability. You swung a fist out in retaliation, and he easily caught it. He swung it, pinning the arm behind your back. One hand moved towards your neck, hovering as if he had a knife. If he did, the blade would be very near your neck. Blood rushed in your ears, the adrenaline pumping. You were effectively trapped and defeated.

"I think I win this round," He murmured against your ear, and the blood rushed to your face. You were suddenly very aware of the way your back pressed to his chest. You were also vaguely aware of Tommy making disgusted gagging noises from the side.

"It would seem so," You managed to say back, voice barely short of a squeak. He unhanded you, allowing you to slip away from him. Your heart thundered as you took up your spot once more, looking at Techno’s family. Philza had this bemused look on your face, whereas Wilbur looked almost bored and Tommy looked disgusted. Your ears flushed and you focused in Techno once more, hands raised.

"Fight me," Dream's voice interrupted as he stepped into the middle of you and Techno. You blinked up at the blonde, turning to look at George. George had simply shrugged and you looked back towards Dream. Techno had stepped around him, an almost agitated look on his face.

"I was under the impression you didn't want her fighting?" He levelled Dream with a glare, which Dream only seemed to take in stride. Your stomach twisted anxiously, eyes darting between the two men.

"I don't but clearly you're going to teach her anyways." The way venom practically dripped from Dream's voice was worrisome, a trait you had only seen in him once or twice before.

"Well her future is here, so I think it matters more what I want and what she wants." He inclined his head, looking at him down the bridge of his nose. Tommy had leaned over to whisper to Wilbur, glancing at the two uneasily. Techno's fingers had twitched towards one of his swords, and it seemed like Dream was thinking similarly.

"Hey, its fine! I'll train with him! It'll be good to fight someone I'm not familiar with!" You exclaimed as you moved forwards, slotting yourself between them. You pushed at both of their chests, hoping to diffuse the situation. Dream gave Techno a smug smirk, and Techno simply sighed with a nod.

"Fine," He relented, taking a few steps back. He stood beside Philza, looking none too pleased.  You stepped back from Dream, returning to your spot. You could, at the very least, spar with him. So long as it kept the situation from escalating. He didn't wait for you to be ready like Techno often did, instead going straight for you.

You spun on your toes, yelping and dodging out of the way from the hit aimed towards your stomach. You rebounded from the initial shock, spinning again to smack your heel against his thigh. The slight wince that crossed his face immediately brought satisfaction bubbling up, a smile on your face. You weren’t given much time to celebrate the hit, though. You had to react fast, meeting each hit with your own. You winced a little as he struck your wrist, cursing under your breath.

His hits and timing were a lot less forgivable than Techno’s, having an edge to him that you were never quite prepared for. Your eyebrows knitted together as you punched at his shoulder on his bad side, knocking him off balance. His hand shot out, grasping onto your wrist and dragging you down with him. You yelped in surprise, his back slamming into the ground. His body padded you're fall, a small thing you were thankful for.

You weren't given too much time to contemplate the next course of action, getting thrown off of his chest. He rolled the pair of you over, leaving you pinned to the ground beneath him. His hand moved, mimicking as Techno had earlier. Like if he had a knife it would be pressed to your neck.

"I win," Dream whispered and leaned down, smug smirk still on his face. You huffed beneath him, shoving slightly at his hand at your defeat.

"Alright, you win. Now get off of me," You grumbled. You pouted a little and pushed at his shoulder, ignoring the way the smugness vanished. He complied, getting off of you and allowing you to sit up.

"You still have a lot of work to do." His voice came from above you, and you rolled your shoulders. You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. 

"I haven't been training that long, of course I still need to learn." You placed your hands up under you, moving to push yourself up. Before you could, Techno’s all too familiar hand came into sight, offering to help you. He had inserted himself between you and Dream, a frown tugging at his lips. You easily took his hand, allowing him to pull you up. You stumbled as he did so with a little more force than necessary, colliding into his chest with a squeak.

"She did fine. She's not some delicate flower who needs you to keep her thorns clipped." He hardly seemed bothered by you being pressed to his chest, only seeming focused on staring down Dream. You carefully pulled away from Techno’s chest, though you continued to linger by him.

"I never said she was,” Dream spat, causing your nervousness to rise.

“Dream-” George started, moving to grab his friend’s shoulder.

“You didn’t say it explicitly, but your actions said it well enough.” You raised a hand, gently pressing it on Techno’s upper arm.

“Techno-” You murmured softly, moving to push him away. The two glowered at each other, though Techno did allow you to move him. You ushered him towards his brothers, glancing back at Dream nervously. Whatever tension was between these two was quite dangerous, and you didn’t like it. “Dream, maybe you and George should go to your rooms for right now.” Your voice was tense, unsure if the blonde would listen.

“She’s right, Dream.” George’s voice was low as he moved the younger back. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to refuse. Dream pushed George off of him, turning and heading towards the castle. George shot you an apologetic look, chasing after him. You breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing your face.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into him,” You apologized to Techno, who finally looked to you again.

“What a dickhead,” Tommy chimed, a frown on his face as he looked towards the castle. You sighed, not even knowing how to respond. 

“Is he always like that?” Wilbur raised an eyebrow at you, drawing your attention to him.

“Not usually. He’s never done any of that before.” You turned back to Techno, watching him closely. His brows were furrowed, irritation sparkling in his eyes.

“Enough about him. We need to keep training you. Philza.” Techno turned towards his uncle. The older man walked forward, raising an eyebrow. “Go tell Ranboo I need a favor from him. Keep an eye on him,” He muttered softly, eyes cutting towards where Dream had left. Philza followed the gaze and nodded, leaving Techno’s full attention to focus on you. 

“Round two?” You questioned softly with a smile, eager for distraction. As Philza left towards the castle, Techno took up his normal stance and motioned for you. Sparring was better than dealing with whatever dramatics Dream had, and easier than wondering what this favor was that Techno called in from whoever Ranboo was.

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