#if you hate the epilogue just ignore it LOL

[phrandallanton]

I've decided to work more on my Eltingville Club OCs. Changed a lot about Vinny, and just wrote a bit about Joesph more. So here's all that! Buckle in, I wrote a lot. More then what I thought I would. Like a WHOLE lot more. More then I ever wrote for a regular OC. (If there's any spelling or grammer mistakes, please let me know!!! Thank you 💕)

"Vinny" (still not her real name lol)

Vinny is a pretty average, rather dumb girl who grew up in a southern town from the middle of nowhere and recently moved to eltingville with her uncle and cousin Joesph due to complications with her family back at home. Though she's not as much as a nerd like the eltingville club is, she is as ignorant and aragont, just not in the geek way to a sertant extent. Vinny absolutely hates anyone that she deems to be "living a better life" than her. This mostly includes popular kids/celebrities and people who are in a relationship. She feels entitled to the kind of attention they get and she doesn't think "they" deserve any of it simply because she's doesn't have it.

Vinny doesn't show it upfront not because she's actively trying to hide the fact that's she's a jealous hating freak, but because she's a coward and knows her actions cause consequences if caught. So most of her harrasment and shenanigans comes from her sitting behind her computer. Yes, she has "70 ALTERNATIVE ACCOUNTS!!!!" She'll harras kids from her school, celebrities, and make tons of forum/blog posts about stuff like how it should of been her to kiss Han Solo and not Leia. (Yeah, maybe she still a hating geek like the Eltingville Club) Though due to her not being the brightest, her harrasment tends to backfire. However, suprisingly enough, her shenanigans will still remain anonymous for the most part.

Vinny only hangs out with the Eltingville Club because Joesph wants her to. She always ends up running her own friendships that she has due to her self destructive behavior, and the Eltingville Club is perfect for someone like that! She is rather possessive of Joesph since he's the only person who tries to include her and actually hangs out with her. He let's her paint his robots and treats her more like a sister rather then a cousin. Of course, this means she gets a bit jealous when Josh comes over to hang out with Joesph.

Which led her to befriending "Greedo318" on the internet.(I can't remember if Greedo had been around since before the epilogue or not. So if not then cancel this part out, or this can be an AU where Greedo did exist for this long) Vinny definitely has no clue that "Greedo318" is Bill and vice-versa. Worst of all she has a crush on "Greedo318", or at least the idea of him. Come on It's a dude that validates her feelings and bad actions, it was bound to happen.

Vinny enjoys hanging out with the Eltingville Club because of the drama. Oh boy does she eat it up. Until something is said about her in a negative way, then she's... throwing it up(?) She's convinced Jerry has a crush on her, or at least finds her to be attractive, all because he's the one out of the four that's the "nicest" to her. So take that as you will.

For Bill she goes back and forth with wether or not she likes him. He'll make comments that she'll takes personally which leads to her trying to ruin something for him. Luckily for Bill, it'll backfire on her just like how everything else does. But then there's been moments were they work together to make someone's life miserable, or even yap about comics.

She couldn't care less for Josh of course. Honestly she's a bit convinced Josh and Joesph might be gay for eachother. Not too sure on how she feels about that. Then there's

Pete, who she can't come up with a solid opinion on. She probably thinks his accent is attractive in a way, and likes that he enjoys horror movies too. (Vinny likes seeing people getting brutally murdered, go figure.) But he's still a bit too "weird" to her.

Other then her negative traits, Vinny is rather odd but your nice typical teenaged girl. She tells stories about her home town, like how the mayor there was an actual pig.

She also has a pretty low IQ, just as low as her self-esteem. So yeah...she's definitely saying some dumb crap and having things fly over her head. She loves animals, arts and crafts, and reading comics cause that's all she really had back at home.

She only recently got introduced to all the other geek stuff by the help of Joesph. Her main obsession is virtual pets since they remind her of the animals she took care of at her grandparents farm when she was younger. Her favorites are her Tamagochi and Furby. She probably also has Neopets and later on got a TON of Webkinz. She would also totally play the heck out of the sims games.

Joesph McGee

Joesph is still the robotics/technology freak he is. The Eltingville Club at this point is probably questioning if he's neodivergent. He's the friendliness guy to walk the planet for the most part. He hates it when the club fights and breaks up. Then gets happy when they make up, thinks it's going to stay that way, and the pattern continues. ("Bill, look at me, this isn't you 🥺" type ahh)

His best friend is Josh, cause of course the two sci-fi nerds are friends! He tends to take his side for most of their arguments and when the club breaks up he's hanging out with him afterwards. He's pretty close with Jerry too, considering they're the only two pretty sane ones from the group. Also Joesph admires how good of a dungeon master Jerry is. He thinks Jerry is cool.

Then there's Vinny of course, he adores her and is pretty protective when it comes to her. He doesn't like that she acts out the way she does, though he doesn't even know half of it. He just wants the best for her knowing her problems just like everyone else in his life.

He's chill with Pete, he likes that he can just pick him up with little to no effort. Pete doesn't like it. Though Pete's liking towrds gore does make him a bit scared.

Bill is a whole other can of worms, Joesph genuinely believes he's a good person that's going to change. Who's gonna tell him? Actually, don't tell him. Let him be delusional.

He's also pretty good friends with IronJaw too, he doesn't mind the spit. Actually, he thinks his braces are sick and wishes he could have them. Would make him look like he had some sort of cool technology thing in his mouth. They don't hang out much but he enjoys talking to him when they're at the comic book store or at school.

Joesph can have his nerd rage moments, though it's very VERY rare. It would take a lot for him to genuinely get mad, and even then afterwards he'll probably end up crying. Most girls actually find him attractive compared to the other guys, until he starts yapping, then they hate him. Poor Joe. He has more potential then the other guys yet still can't get any action. Not that he really cares though, as long has he has robots, he's good.

[idrawweirdstuffnominors]

uhmm hi...i LUV ur posts..i have to rq... something along the lines of epilogue bill with a sweet needy girlfie who keeps begging to do stuff with him, but he keeps trying to play it rlly cool & nonchalant, just reading his comics cuz hes just so stubborn & consumed with his interests...so she just decides to have her way with him while he does whatever hes doing...u can take that however u want to ehe..

; /// ; im sorry if this is too much or too dumb eheh..‪‪❤︎‬ i ask on nony because im shyy...

(Lol don't worry I get it <3

Epilogue Bill x ~needy~ girlfriend

Bill sat cross-legged on the ratty old couch, comic book open in one hand, the other buried in a half-eaten bag of Red Vines. His eyes scanned the page like it was sacred scripture. You, curled beside him with your chin on his shoulder, had been pouting dramatically for the past ten minutes.

“Biiiiiill,” you whispered, dragging the syllable out, lips brushing his ear. “Baby, pay attention to me.”

“Nnnnnope,” he muttered without even looking up. “Busy. The Mutilator’s about to bisect a camp counselor with an oar. This is important literature.”

You groaned and draped yourself across his lap like a bored kitten. He barely reacted, just lifted the edge of the comic so he could still read over your body.

“C’mon,” you whined, running your fingers up the front of his faded tee. “Don’t you wanna do something fun with me?”

“I am,” he said flatly. “You’re ruining the vibe.”

You sat up a little, straddling his thighs now, face all flushed and hopeful. “I wanna make you feel good.”

“Uh-huh.” Flip of a page. “And I wanna read about entrails. We all got dreams.”

But you didn’t budge. You just stayed there, looking so sweet and warm and needy, squirming against him just a little. Just enough to make him notice how soft your thighs were around his hips. He was still pretending to read — the comic hadn’t changed pages in a while — but you could see the twitch in his jaw, the way his hand flexed against the cover.

“You’re getting hard,” you whispered, saccharine.

His eyes didn’t leave the page, but his voice dipped. “Yeah, well, I’m alive. Don’t let it go to your head.”

You leaned in, kissed his neck. “Can I please ride you while you read your little comic book, Bill?”

He finally looked at you over the top of the page. His eyes were dark, narrowed.

“...You’re so fuckin’ weird,” he muttered. “You get off on me ignoring you?”

You kissed the corner of his mouth, sweet and slow. “Only when you pretend to hate it.”

He groaned — full-body, annoyed and aroused and resigned. He leaned his head back against the couch and slapped the comic down on the cushion beside him.

“You’re lucky you’re hot,” he said, pulling you in with one hand on your waist. “And insane. Mostly insane.”

You grinned. “So I can?”

“I swear to god, if you crease my issue of Cannibal Sluts of Swamp 6—”

You cut him off with a kiss as you ground down onto him, his breath hitching despite himself.

Yeah. He was still pretending not to care.

But he let you have your way real fast after that.

Hell yes. Buckle in — this is gonna be hot, messy, and so very Bill. First: a continuation where you start riding him while he tries to read, and he’s desperately trying (and failing) to act like it’s not affecting him. Then we’ll roll into the aftermath, where he pretends he didn’t like it… while keeping you close like his life depends on it.

You sink down onto him slow, teasing, your hands braced on his shoulders — and Bill’s whole body goes stiff under you. He exhales through his nose like he’s so annoyed, but his grip tightens on your hips like he’s clinging to sanity.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “You’re seriously gonna do this while I’m tryin’ to read?”

“Uh-huh,” you purr, already rocking your hips, feeling him twitch inside you. “Keep going. Don’t let me distract you.”

He glares at the comic like it betrayed him. “I hate you,” he mutters.

“You love me,” you breathe into his ear, nails scraping lightly down his chest.

And the thing is? He does. He just won’t say it. Not now, not while you’re ruining him one slow grind at a time, whimpering sweet little gasps into his neck.

His breath hitches again. The comic book starts to tremble in his grip.

You lean back just enough to see his face — flushed, jaw clenched, stubborn eyes locked on the page. But he’s not reading anymore. He can’t. Not with the way your hips are moving, slick and needy and just slow enough to torture him.

“You’re gonna make me drop this fuckin’ comic,” he warns, voice hoarse.

“Then drop it,” you whisper.

And he does.

He tossed it off to the side like it never mattered, grabs your face with both hands, and kisses you hard — desperate, filthy, like he can’t believe he waited this long. You whine against his mouth as he thrusts up into you, his pace suddenly rough, fast, full of every ounce of restraint he’s been fighting.

His mouth is all over you now — jaw, neck, shoulder — biting down hard enough to leave marks.

“You think you can just crawl in my lap and ride me while I’m tryin’ to have a normal night?” he growls into your skin, voice ragged. “You’re such a brat.”

But he’s loving it.

He's so close, panting into each other’s mouths, bodies locked together. You cry out his name, clenching and fluttering around him, and that’s it — he spills into you with a low, broken groan, teeth sinking into your shoulder to muffle it.

You both collapse into a sticky, tangled mess on the couch, limbs heavy, breath shallow.

---

You’re curled against his chest, all soft sighs and kisses against his jaw.

Bill stares at the ceiling like it personally offended him.

“…You’re outta your fuckin’ mind,” he mutters. “Seriously. Unhinged. Who does that?”

You hum, sleepy and smug. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

“I was complaining.”

“You were moaning.”

He scoffs, grabs the nearest blanket to toss over the two of you. You nuzzle into his chest, fingers drawing lazy circles on his stomach, and he tenses like he’s gonna protest—

—but he doesn’t push you away.

He wraps an arm around your waist instead. Real quiet. Real subtle.

“…You creased my comic,” he grumbles.

“I’ll buy you another one.”

“You better.”

But he presses a kiss to the top of your head anyway. Doesn’t say anything else. Just holds you tighter.

And keeps holding you long after you fall asleep on his chest, like maybe you’re the only thing in the world he doesn’t hate.

---

[lividria]

that's not even the most interesting connection to magolor epilogue you can make here, actually, i left this out of the first post because it was a bunch of conjecture and not someone literally saying galacta knight will appear in another world but i've got a couple things to say on this front

So, this may seem like a nonstarter, but follow along with me: Morpho Knight EX's Japanese pause description says they come from Another Dimension. (At least, according to this translation)

VS Barufurei Knight EX On the Day of Judgment, a Dreaming Bird of Sukhavati will come flying from Another Dimension. A land of dreams, or a land of the dead… what sort of dimension will he travel to next? Amplifying the strength he took from the white knight day by day, he’s finally made that strength his. The Day of Judgment by the black paradise butterfly which has manifested its true power… now, approaches dusk!

(In Japanese, butterflies also get/got called birds sometimes, no idea what the rest of this is on about though) I guess you could alternatively interpret this as them just... appearing from Another Dimension, not originating there, but that ruins my argument, so ignore that possibility unless you can come up with a way in which it also supports what I'm gonna claim then don't ignore it k thx

I'm also going to assume Morpho Knight EX isn't a distinct entity from the regular one, because that'd make me hate everything.

Back to that translation of the thing on Aeon Hero, look at this mention of Morpho Knight:

"I believe many of you should already be familiar with him, but he sure looks just like that strongest warrior in the galaxy, who had his spot taken from him in “Kirby Star Allies”, by a butterfly thought to have appeared from the underworld"

Or, well, it's not just a nondescript underworld, it actually refers to Yomi, the underworld of Japanese mythology, which butterflies are associated with, that's a whole other can of worms but if you want a fairly accurate depiction of what it's like from everything I've researched (See: Wikipedia lol), here's a translation of the Kirby book where Meta Knight almost dies and ends up exploring Yomi. I'm now going to ignore Yomi having a specific depiction entirely.

So, Morpho Knight is said to come from the underworld, and also Another Dimension, and is also themed around judgement... Hey, what's that OTHER Magolor Epilogue song called?

Judgement of the Malus Pumila. Malus Pumila being the scientific name for the apple tree, obviously referring to the Gem Apple you restore and Magolor brings to the Dream Kingdom. (Side notes, Malus can also mean Evil or Mast, like that of a ship, and the apple from the Malus Pumila is also sometimes called the Paradise Apple, Lor means Paradise in Jambandran, all things relevant to Magolor if you enjoy that kind of thing.)

And does THIS from the Aeon Hero thing not also line up with Magolor's arc suspiciously well?

the direction for the moment of his defeat also ended up being something special. After that point, he will wander the netherworld, and then one day, he will descend upon some world, somewhere, won’t he?

Magolor is defeated, sent to a netherworld, and then one day, he descended upon some world, somewhere, and we already know Galacta Knight has been in Another Dimension from this concept art where he's just floating around there in his seal crystal (Look to the southwest of Halcandra), and also Star Dream summoning him from "Another Dimension Road" in Japanese. (Translated as "extradimensional tunnel" in English)

...So, uh, I don't really have a clear conclusion to all of this, this is just a bunch of connections I found that I think have interesting lore implications, both for Galacta Knight and Another Dimension in general, even though I haven't worked them all out yet. I guess you could say what happened to Hyness in Heroes in Another Dimension is also him facing judgement, based off this quote?

Hyness has fallen into a hole leading to another dimension. The darkness left its master, transforming into a giant Jamba Heart and swallowing him whole.

I just wanted to get this out here since I feel like I'm onto something here but I'm not sure what, and if someone else independently mentioned Magolor Epilogue, why not throw all this out there as well?

But I do have one more thing I saved for last. Did you know that Galacta Knight was considered as a potential Dream Friend? Here's a link to an interview where it was mentioned:

HAL had to leave some beloved characters out. Prince Fluff from Kirby’s Epic Yarn didn’t make it in, for example, and there were more. “There were other characters that we wanted to make special guest appearances, like Drawcia, Elline, Shadow Kirby, Galacta Knight, and so on. But we established a certain rule for our selection process. The rule was to select one character from each title in the main action games over the years, the so-called core Kirby games, the equivalent to numbered sequels.”

Would he have remained morally ambiguous, like Dark Meta Knight? Maybe. (Fun fact, DMK is actually more clearly implied to be redeemed in Japanese, while Marx is more ambiguous with his redemption than in English, make of this what you will) If the theory that Galacta's one of the Four Heroes of Yore is right, it'd probably make sense if he'd team up with you to help re-defeat Void Termina, even if he doesn't like Kirby or Meta Knight or whoever. (Or maybe he just doesn't care. After all, he's only ever summoned when somebody wants to fight, besides RTDL where his fight has no context, and Star Allies, when he doesn't get to...) But it at least shows that they considered making Galacta an ally of some kind. Food for thought, if he does turn up in Star-Crossed World.

hey anyone who believes in galacta knight being in star-crossed world i found more ammo for the theory on accident browsing wikirby, and like it's more than just the similar design aspects i've seen everyone talking about i might have something of substance here if you want it

if you saw one of my previous posts you'd know i'm trying to solve kirby lore, and this obviously led me to the wikirby page on galacta knight and specifically aeon hero in super clash, and i ended up reading one of the citations which was a translation of some japanese video where aeon hero's discussed, and right towards the end, check this out

Also, although the dark version is a hidden boss exlusive to online, the direction for the moment of his defeat also ended up being something special. After that point, he will wander the netherworld, and then one day, he will descend upon some world, somewhere, won’t he? I’m looking forward to the day where we will meet with him who traverses time once more!

what i'm getting at here should be self-evident, especially when factoring in that i haven't seen an image of this but wikirby also says that you can see a jamba heart floating around in one of galacta's wormholes in super clash as well, obvious comparison to star-crossed world's crystal heart

and this is definitely a coincidence but i also saw this

Aeon Hero's Japanese name, 淵源を巡る英雄 ("Hero Crossing the Origin"), appears to be derived from the Japanese name of the track that plays in the final corridor of Soul Melter EX in The Ultimate Choice: 淵源を巡る回廊 ("Corridor Crossing the Origin"). It's also similar to his Japanese Kirby Star Allies Boss Caption, 時巡る戦士 ("The Warrior who Crosses Time"), which is a reference to the Japanese name of "The Greatest Warrior in the Galaxy Ever", 時巡る銀河最強の戦士 ("The Greatest Time-Crossing Warrior in the Galaxy"). The key connecting factor is the usage of 巡る (meguru), meaning "to cross".

that's a lot of crossing, clearly he's gonna be called the greatest star-crossing warrior in the galaxy or something in star-crossed world lol

[bberry005]

epilogue leaks this epilogue leaks that all i know is that being a star wars fan gives me immense ability to frankenstein together my own version of canon that i like based on different parts of the source material and that more my hero academia fans need to learn how to do that

[babacontainsmultitudes]

[just venting a bit into the void you understand you understand 😌] Lately I've been feeling very caught between "I have a lot of thoughts on Sparrow and Normal and all that with the ending and teen talk and feel like I need to get them out and voice them for my own piece of mind and resolution" and "I am lacking the strength and energy to actually sit down and write it all out and kind of really just want to fully move on to other things (AUs, fics, anything else)" but my brain can't seem to commit to either and that's quite frustrating cause it's just left me very restless. *Sigh*. Idk! Just needed to complain about that a bit ig, it's silly but this is what has been ailing me as of late.

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition)

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus (+ maybe the other MLs!) and an oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, maybe some suggestive language?? will add more tags as the story progresses A/N: This is gonna be a multi-chapter fic! I’m still not sure whether to do the boys in rotation, or just focus on one ML per series. Don’t take my word for it atp tho – I’m not even sure if I can actually finish a series lol.  Also, I’ve had the creative liberty of changing stuff from the actual gameplay here and there. (Except for the self-awareness. That’s most definitely real.) Hope you enjoy~!

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10 - Epilogue

It’s a quarter past eight and you’re still on your desk working overtime on a Friday night. 

You let out a big sigh, leaning back on your office chair after an unhealthy duration of bad posture from hours of slouching down in front of your computer. There’s nothing ergonomic about the way this job is killing you, and the ache in your lower back can attest to that. 

An irate orange tabby plops himself in front of you, blocking your view of the glaring screen and you figure that it’s time for a break. 

“Me-oow.”

“I know, I know,” You answer tiredly, standing up to dodge a stray paw clawing your way and you hear cracks in three different places that are honestly unbecoming of a woman your age. You haven’t even reached thirty yet, for god’s sake. “I’m a bad mother. But mom also had to skip dinner to make it to the seven PM meeting, so cut me some slack, okay?” 

A high-pitched “meooowr!” is the only response you get; it seems like there’s no excusing late dinner time this time around. 

As much as you’d like to hem and haw and complain, the main reason why you’re still keeping this job is because you can work remotely. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re stuck most days at home working hours past your regular nine to five, having to be on-call around the clock at all times, and that you’ve consumed more sodium than a nitrite victim with the way you live off cup ramen, then, really, it beats working in an office where you’d physically have to clock in and out from exactly nine to five. 

Your right eye twitches. No, I have not fallen in love with the system that exploits me, thank you very much. 

“Here is your Fancy Feast, your highness,” you tell the hungry feline who’s already ignoring the hand that feeds for the bowl full of white fish paté. He eats healthier than you, sure, but you work like this for him to eat like this. The life of a single mom is an uphill battle, but extremely rewarding. 

You raise your hand to pat your son’s head lovingly, aborting the gesture halfway when you hear a warning growl. Alright, tough crowd. 

After nuking a half-eaten takeout box in the microwave and grabbing a cold Bundaberg from the fridge, you hunker down on the “chaise lounge” (see: an old wingback and a rattan ottoman you’ve refurbished as a makeshift seat a few weeks back when you had guests over) for a late meal. 

You barely register the taste of lukewarm rice on your tongue, mouth moving mechanically while your mind runs on autopilot about everything and nothing at the same time. 

Maybe it’s time to check Jobstreet again

Is there like a laundromat near the area that’s open twenty four seven

Eugh, I hate cold peas

What do we feel about Chromakopia? 

I will… die alone

I really need to stock on some fresh produce this weekend—

Ping! 

A notification from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts—and like a well-trained dog pavlov’d into responding, you visibly perk up at the sight of your lock screen lighting up and the familiar banner you’ve already memorized by heart. 

Your Galaxy Explorer rewards are here. Did you put my hotel’s address as the shipping address? 

Ah, just like clockwork. 

You press on it with a quiet, bubbling anticipation, chewing on the plastic spork as you wait impatiently for the silly mobile game that’s been your short respite at intervals—for more than you’d care to admit��to boot up. 

Offhandedly, you wish that the devs would add more variations to the game’s push notifications; more random, personalized stuff like maybe a reminder to drink water, or a fun update about their day. What you’d give–pay–for a: "Less on the overtime, kitten. I miss you,” dialogue from a certain character, but you digress. 

Oh, well. Probably better this way, lest you dig yourself deeper into delusion. 

The game greets you with the usual picturesque view of a silver-haired man sitting cross-legged on a chair, looking all the bit at ease in his signature crimson and white button up. The warm ambience of the Destiny Café at night draws you in, already pulling your attention away from the never-ending stream of thoughts in your brain. 

“Before seeing you, I thought today would be another dull day,“ Sylus comments airily. The way he drawls out the words in that deep timbre of his voice never fails to make your heart flutter – just a teeeensy bit.

“Ever the charmer,” you sigh happily in return, situating yourself more comfortably on the sofa, almost horizontal from how far you’re leaning back on the cushion. “You’re looking awfully normal tonight. What, no pineapple glasses for your favorite girl?” 

Having bypassed the initial cringe of talking to yourself after literal months of gameplay, it almost comes off natural, the banter. You’ve already accepted the fact that you’re crazy about a fictional, pixelated man—what’s pretending to have actual conversations with him gonna do? It’s not as if he actually hears you yap your nonsense; there are worse things in the world than a parasocial attachment to an otome game character. 

Your little jab at the sometimes random addition to his choice of attire earns you a laugh from the man himself—or at least it looks as though it does, making you blink momentarily in surprise. Happy coincidence, I guess.

You shake your head, cracking a smile, then proceed to do the routine of completing the daily agenda and then some. 

It’s tedious business, sure. You’ve dedicated hours upon hours on this game and you’re honestly starting to feel pretty bored with some of the gameplay elements, but you *do* like the ritualistic nature of ticking off the tasks one by one. It’s almost ironic— the way you dutifully do one thing after the other in this game, just to avoid the pile of work that’s waiting for you in real life. 

It’s not as if anything, or anyone’s relying on you to do your daily log-ins, so you suppose it’s due to that lack of pressure as well. 

Pulling yourself away from the five-star Xavier memory card you’ve grinded to level seventy, you stare despondently at the sad little 2 on your remaining energy. The embarrassing amount of materials you lack to ascend the card seem to mock you, even as you exit the Memories window. Another goal for another day, perhaps.

All tasks on the daily agenda are complete, except for one that you’ve always saved for last.

You’re met with a standing Sylus on the game’s home screen, arms crossed and wearing an expression you’d almost describe as impatient, if you didn’t know any better. The sight makes you grin. 

Cheekily, you poke his crotch.

You’re looking forward to getting a playful remark, or if you’re lucky, a blush along with an embarrassed retort about your shamelessness. 

 What you get, however, is a resounding scoff. Your eyes snap back to his face – from, ahem, your prolonged staring at the area below his waist – and you do see the familiar tinge of pink on his cheeks, but what he says in response catches you off-guard.

“You spend that much resource for a card that isn’t mine?” Sylus tsks, both his voice and expression coming across as… affronted? “Kitten, I’m actually hurt.” 

Huh?

You haven’t heard that line from him before. Was there a recent update you weren’t aware of? The man in question then appears to look amused, from the way you’ve been rendered speechless by the unexpected dialogue. 

All at once, you gasp when you realize what the new response means. 

“That’s so smart,” you say giddily. You see Sylus cock his head to the side, synchronously quirking an eyebrow—expectant. “They actually added a feature that lets them know which memory I’ve upgraded last, and make you react to it. Oh, that’s so cool!” 

If you weren’t too busy being excited over what you think is a new update from the game,  you’d see the chagrined look on Sylus’ face. But when you glance back at him, all trace of the emotion is gone before you could notice anything different. 

“Don’t worry, Crow Man. You’re still my favorite,” you assure him, making his mouth tick upwards in a semblance of a smile. He looks pleased all of the sudden, his demeanor shifting into something more relaxed.

Then a pout forms on your face. You crinkle your nose in frustration as you complain, “It’s just really hard to level your cards up at this point. It takes ages and a shit ton of energy just to level you up past seventy five.” Sighing, you add, kind of bitterly, “And I’m too broke to be spending money on growth packs.” 

Checking the time on your phone, you see that you’ve already spent more than an hour on your self-imposed break time and you know that you ought to get back to work soon. With a groan, you pull yourself to sit upright, savoring the last few minutes of free time before you slave off for the rest of the night. 

You’re about to clean up what’s left of dinner when you notice the oddly thoughtful look on Sylus’ face. 

There’s a deep furrow in his brows as he brings a hand up to cover his mouth. He closes his eyes shut for a few seconds. He's never done that gesture before... Ugh, he looks really hot–

Suddenly, you see a flicker—then a weird, sort of graphic distortion happening in the background. Uh, what??

A beat; then a glitch on the screen. “Ah, shit.” 

The game crashes.

You exhale loudly as the game’s interface goes back to the loading screen, tapping your thumb impatiently as the bar slowly loads to 15%... 50%..... 81%....... 

“Maybe make sure to patch up first before releasing an update next time, jeez—huh?” 

For a quick second, nothing seems to be amiss. But then the first thing you see on the home screen is Sylus’ figure standing before you, wearing an expression one could only describe as a cat that ate the proverbial canary. 

He speaks— and it’s another intro you haven’t heard him say, ever. 

“You should’ve told me sooner, sweetie,” he almost coos the words out, making your eyes bug out in shock. 

“Now, why don’t you go check your–” he pauses, and his mouth moves as if he’s rolling the word out, testing it. “Inventory?” 

Sylus slides his gaze towards the upper left corner of the screen, a coy smirk still ever-present on his face. 

There, you see something you haven’t noticed earlier: two notification badges. One on your mailbox, and another on the Hunter’s Info tab. Bewildered, you press on the mail icon first, despite the insistence for you to start with the latter. 

You see a new message: [For You]

A small gift, to bridge our worlds closer. – S 

Nothing is attached to it. You read it twice, perplexed.  

“You’re quite the contradictorian, aren’t you?” Sylus tuts as soon as you return back to the home screen, his gaze boring into you even when he tilts his head sideways in mock exasperation. “Mmm, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Take all the time you need, sweetheart.” 

Helplessly, you open your inventory next. 

Your jaw drops. 

“What. The fuck,” You whisper to yourself, voice wavering in disbelief at what you’re seeing, and the sheer amount of what you’re seeing. “This—this can’t be real.” 

You see that all the materials you own, from the bottle of wishes to the ascension crystal boxes, have been multiplied a hundred times over.

And on top of that–

Ninety nine thousand red dias????

You cannot believe how this—this recent… update (or is it a bug? Infold sure isn’t this generous) didn't make the news. Even as someone as uninvolved as you are with the community and the game’s latest releases, something like this for sure would’ve made headlines on Twitter (X), at least. But you haven’t heard anything. Nada. 

Holy shit. 

You feel a little light-headed, both from incredulity and excitement. Needing a moment to calm yourself down, you exit the Inventory tab in a daze.

You stare at Sylus. He stares back at you with what looks to be mirth in his eyes. 

Skeptically, you mutter, “did–did I get hacked or something?” 

Anticipating another unexpected dialogue to prompt up, you wait for a full minute without saying anything else. And for a moment, the man in front of you looks indecisive, contemplative. 

There’s something very odd, very… human in the way he’s looking at you. He looks as if– as if he’s—

His face falls back into a neutral expression. Not unlike how his idle animation usually looks. 

..

…

….. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to initiate a conversation any time soon, so you hesitantly poke him on the nose. 

“Even in the worst-case scenario, there’s no need to panic.”

You’ve heard that one before.

So he’s back to normal now. You temper the small disappointment that blooms in your gut. 

Shaking your head slowly, you try to make sense of all the stuff that just happened, but a sharp bite on your ankle pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Ow–!” The sight of your cat flopping near your feet reminds you of the time. More importantly, the backlogs waiting for you at your desk. 

“Wait, shit– I gotta get back to work.” This… unbelievable stroke of good luck (?) is gonna have to take a backseat for now.

You grab the carton box and the half-empty bottle of sparkling peach as you stand up. Making quick work of throwing the container in the trash and gulping down the rest of your drink, you rush into your room and back in front of your PC. 

Cracking your knuckles, you gingerly set your phone against the monitor. Setting the timer to one hour in Quality Time, knowing fully-well that you’re going to have to keep extending it until the wee hours of the morning—or until your battery dies, whichever comes first—you give Sylus one last look, letting out a long exhale before locking in.

“Just keep me company for the night, alright? I’ll figure out what’s going on once my shift’s over.” 

-

It could just be your overactive imagination, but you swear you hear a quiet chuckle from the man polishing his gun in your peripheral.

[freakybongg]

(Epilogue Eltingville cont)

So the reader used to be apart of the club like everyone else before the whole “Bill burning down Joe’s shop” fiasco that made everyone go their separate ways. I was thinking the reader probably didn’t keep up with anyone from the club and left on some pretty bad terms. So when they meet back up with the boys, things are tense and awkward. Eventually they get to talking things out (similar to Jerry and Bill did in the epilogue). You can decide whether things conclude well or poorly (I personally enjoy a happy ending but knowing these boys and their pettiness a little angst wouldn’t be surprising).

Is that enough info or should I give some more? I’m just spitballing off the top of my head lol. You can make things platonic or romantic, but either way the reader obviously had a close relationship to the club before hand. Also have the boys written separately if that’s not too much. But I wouldn’t mind if they’re grouped together if that’s easier for you. It’s your writing at the end of the day so write it however you want and feel would work best.

ELTINGVILLE CLUB EPILOGUE W READER (draft)

-draft, won’t finish. I had some help from @empanadaaaaaaa for Pete’s part!

BILL DICKEY

-Bill was surprised you even spoke to him, your voice was as caring as it was before. He thought you would hate him, after he bullied you so much, made fun of you and broke your stuff when you guys were little.

-Had a little talk with bill after Josh and Pete were talking about how they didn't want Bill there, you apologized to Bill for what they said, and you asked him how he was doing.

-He scoffed at almost anything you said, even if you weren't talking to him and made a smart remark, and all you did was.. nothing you just ignored it. He stopped eventually, realizing you weren't giving him a reaction.

-He got real mad you stood up for Mandi. He just couldn't believe you were siding with her instead of him, your childhood friend. But you were right and he knew that.

-He exposed some of your childhood secrets with the table, as a result of him being mad at you, and you were just silent, you glared at him from across the table, you got up, he flinched and you did nothing but walk past him and leave.

JOSH LEVY

-He was happy to see you, he hasn't seen you in years, you were the only one who didn't overly call him fat and stopped when he asked you too, you guys hung out without the group sometimes.

-You, Him and Pete were talking about the cool memories you guys had until Jerry came back with Bill and they started arguing with him.

-After it all got settled down you Pete and Josh were talking again, until everyone averted their eyes to Jerry's girlfriend, You were all surprised, she was really pretty tbh.

-Bill made some sexist comments and ruined the ENTIRE mood, Josh watched you stand up for her and Jerry, thought you looked pretty cool honestly.

-The table got real fucking quiet after Bill started spitting shit out of his ass about you, he wanted to say something but you just stormed off before anything. He watched Pete and Jerry give him shit about it when you were gone.

PETE

-When he first seen you, he started laughing, asking how you got here, Josh joined in and you guys were talking and Pete brings up how you stole 500 dollars from your parents and how they beat your ass in front of the entire town, you laughed it off but god was it embarrassing.

-After you all sit down, your sitting in the middle of Josh and Pete, He wouldn't leave you alone about the job he got at Sick Mofo. He talked to you about all the stuff he did in the job, It was kinda sick actually.

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (13)

ー☆ Chapter 13: You Know Me Too Well

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing, usage of the word 'bitch' ー☆ Word count: 6.5k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Well, well, lovelies...new chapter is up and maybe I'm kind of kicking my feet??? Who knows, we'll see what y'all think of this chapter hehe. Also, happy birthday to Song Mingi?! I actually didn't mean to post the new chapter today, but today was the only day I had enough time to write it sooo, yeah. Tmi, but MC's mother is exactly like my mom, so maybe I drew inspiration from real life lol, I love her to death but sometimes I really wish SHE DIDNT SPEAK lol. Also, I'm so obsessed with today's song for the chapter; I'm screaming, crying, throwing up over it LOL. Just a heads up, next chapter is the last like actual chapter of the series and then I decided to add an epilogue lol cue the sobbing. As per usual, listen to You Know Me Too Well before or while reading the chapter! I hope you enjoy and let me know through feedback hehe <3 Enjoy your weekends! divider

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red

@sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng

@deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf

@hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss

@catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi @mingisbbg

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

            Saturday (2:55 pm)

Me: mingi can we talk?

Saturday (8:30 pm)

Me: i am free whenever you say so just let me know and i’ll be there

            Sunday (9:15 am)

Me: we need to talk, mingi.

            Sunday (12:08 am)

Me: please hear me out im sorry

Monday (current time)

            “Do you think he’ll slam the door in my face?” The hallways were buzzing with life as I tried to veer my way around the crowd of students without running into anyone. Today, out of all days, I just so happened to have my last class of the day in a completely different building and at least a good five-minute walk away from the arts building.

“It’s what you’d deserve, to be fair, but—” The was a gasp on the other side of the phone and my eyebrows furrowed as Seulgi muttered something to someone, muffled, “sorry, Wooyoung almost dropped my mother’s favorite vase, I told him to take off that blindfold.”

Eyebrows furrowing even deeper, I abruptly stopped walking, making a girl give me a heated glare that I didn’t care for, “Why is he blindfolded? Wait! I actually don’t want to know.”

“We were playing hide and seek with his niece, you idiot, but I got bored and sneaked away when I saw you calling.” Seulgi’s voice was exasperated and I chuckled as I took off again, leaving the science major’s building as I nuzzled further into my thick scarf. Some days it was warmer, but most days it got really cold and I hated it. I couldn’t deal with the freezing weather, perhaps it was my biggest enemy after Jeong Yunho, “Anyways, as I was saying, you deserve to be ignored by Mingi, but knowing how big of a sucker he is for you, he’ll probably give in before you can utter a single word.”

My heart jumped at the thought as I gnawed on my bottom lip, cutting off the path as I hurried through the grass, uncaring that I was probably destroying the work of the gardener. Besides, the grass had barely just started growing out again, it would be fine, “You think so?”

“I know so.” I heard Wooyoung’s high-pitched voice shouting from the distance and my eyebrows furrowed as I realized Seulgi had probably put me on speaker. Now that was a bit awkward, “He’s an idiot, but he’s in love. Now that I come to think of it, you two are a lot alike, two idiots in love—”

“I believe your niece is looking for you, babe.” Seulgi cut her boyfriend off and I was thankful because I don’t think I could’ve handled hearing him say the words ‘in love’ again. That was scary, even just the thought of it. I was barely coming to terms with liking Mingi, but hearing the word love sort of made me want to turn back around and abandon my whole plan of trying to make peace between the two of us. And Seulgi knew this, thankfully, because she didn’t say anything about it again, “Are you on your way to his studio right now?”

I hummed and curled my fingers tighter around the thermos bottle, my nose cold from the weather as the arts building finally came into sight, “Yeah, three minutes and I’m there.”

“Good.” Seulgi sounded content and I sighed as I tried to ignore the dawning anxiety that tried to crawl through my body and make me abandon my well-thought-out plan. I had to do this. Seulgi and my mom were right, I couldn’t mess this up again. I liked Mingi, a lot. He is a good guy and I shouldn’t let my past and my fears dictate my life. Yes, Mingi is Yunho’s best friend, but Mingi isn’t like Yunho. Hopefully, “Update me later then, I love you Y/N, I hope you know that.”

I chuckled and nodded at the security guard as he was out of his cubicle, standing at the bottom of the steps, smoking his cigar, “I know, thank you for knocking some sense into me.”

“We’ll see about that later.” Her snort was amused and I shook my head as we said our goodbyes, the warmth of the building making me sigh out in relief as I entered through the front doors. I pocketed my phone and unwrapped my scarf from around my neck, greeting the familiar people I crossed paths with. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling nervous at all, after all, I didn’t know how Mingi would react. If he was anything like me, he wouldn’t forgive me so easily. Not when I’ve hurt him again and in the worst way possible.

As I ascended the marble stairs, I found stability in the thermos bottle clutched firmly in both of my hands now, its weight helping me to keep my determination and focus on going through with my own plan. When I woke this morning and went to take a quick shower, I was surprised to hear my mother’s singing and smell the delicious waft of pancakes, making my stomach growl loudly as I didn’t have dinner the night before. It seemed like my mother had taken a day off, grumbling something about her deserving a day to rest after she was almost choked out by one of her mentally ill patients. I couldn’t help but agree with her as we sat at the table in silence, enjoying our breakfast, that is until she cleared her throat loudly and stood up, fetching a mug and a cup from the counter next to the sink. I froze when I realized she was handing me the cup Mingi had designed with funny looking chicks on it, and I was even more confused when I realized it wasn’t coffee I was drinking, but hot chocolate.

“So, what are you going to do about that handsome fella?” I tried not to groan or regret the fact that I told her everything about Mingi. I took a tentative sip of the hot chocolate and realized it wasn’t hot before taking a bigger gulp as I enjoyed its sweet taste.

“I’ll talk to him today—”

“Great!” My mother didn’t even let me finish as she sprung up from her seat again to fetch something from a cupboard, “It’s amazing how strong our maternal intuition is, I swear my starlight, you should make some babies soon.”

“Mom.” I groaned as I watched her curiously as she took a blue thermos bottle from the cupboard and filled it with hot chocolate from the kettle, “We’ve had this discussion many times before, I’m not having children so young.”

“You’re not that young though.” She sent me a sheepish smile as my eyes widened, feigning hurt.

“I’m turning twenty-three?! How is that not young?” She cleared her throat as she sealed the thermos and walked back to the table to sit down.

“I’m just trying to inspire you, anyways,” She huffed and then placed the thermos on the table and pushed it towards me, “Bring this to him as peace offering, he’ll love it. Trust me.”

“I don’t think what Mingi needs right now is hot chocolate—”

“Finish your breakfast and shut up.” My mother didn’t let me finish as she cut off a thick part of the pancake with her fork and forced it inside my mouth, making me groan, “Mothers know best when it comes to stuff like this, be thankful I’m saving your relationship and be back before lunch. I’m ordering take out, and I certainly am not waiting for late your ass if I’m hungry.”

I knew fighting my mom was fruitless, so I just grumbled an okay as I tried to chew the pancake she had forced in my mouth, my cheeks all puffed out. My mother seemed content that I finally wasn’t talking back to her and I shook my head as I pulled the thermos bottle towards me, reminded of the time when Mingi had brought me tea knowing that I would be feeling probably a little sick after getting all soaked in the cold rain and harsh wind.

So, now, with Mingi’s clothes in my tote bag and the thermos filled with hot chocolate in my hands, I couldn’t help but feel optimistic despite the anxiety gripping at my thoughts. If my mother, Seulgi, and even Wooyoung—who knew Mingi like the back of his hand—were convinced that everything would work out just fine, then why would I not believe that? Sure, Mingi was probably still annoyed at me, but I didn’t think a few apologies and even more explanations couldn’t fix the issue at hand. All I had to do was be honest and come clean with my feelings and he’d probably do the same and then—that’s where anxiety stepped in. Then what? Was I ready to pursue a relationship? Did Mingi want to date me? Did I want to date him? Why did it have to be Jeong Yunho’s best friend I was into? Why could I not move past my fears and stop associating Mingi with everything I was wounded by, when he never once made me feel like Yunho did? I could dwell on these thoughts for an eternity, I fear, but I didn’t have that time right now. And to be fair, I didn’t want to think of such things right now because I could feel my determination wither the closer I got to the music majors’ floor, heartbeat loud in my ears.

I stopped at the end of the hallway and took a deep breath, eyes settling on the studio I knew now was used by Mingi only. Wooyoung was nice enough to tell me the number of his studio—not that I had forgotten since the last time I was here—and he also let me know that it was used by Mingi only, the teachers having granted him full access, even at hours when students were supposed to be at home. It seems so Mingi was a favorite amongst the teachers, and I could see why. He was diligent and hard-working; his lyrics were beautiful and nothing would stop him from fulfilling his dream of becoming a well-known rockstar. I couldn’t help but feel excited at the prospect of that, and hoped that I would be part of his journey, that he’d let me back into his life.

Steeling my nerves and trying to see the light at the end of the tunnel, I knew there was no turning back. I wanted to do this, I had to do this. I had to stop sabotaging myself, and so, I marched down the hallway towards Mingi’s studio with a newfound hope and determination. Which lasted about five seconds as I came face to face with Mingi’s studio door. There was a small window on it, which would let you know whether the room was occupied or not, and it was straight across the desk where he was sat at—with the blonde girl standing right next to him. And that should have been okay, because really, Mingi could talk to whoever and spend his time also with whoever he pleased. And it’s not like I didn’t have male friends—I didn’t, Seulgi was my only friend—it’s not like he couldn’t speak to one of his fans. After all, he’s made it clear she was nothing more than a fan he appreciated for helping spread the word about his band.

But then, why was her hand on his shoulder one second and the next second slowly trailing down the sleeve of his beige cardigan—which looked like it was messily stained with paint—and certainly the way my good disposal dissipated and was overtaken by blind jealousy and rage had nothing to do with the sudden possessiveness that shook me to my core. And perhaps the thing that bothered me the most wasn’t even her feeling up Mingi’s arm as she looked down at him with sultry eyes, perhaps it was the way Mingi leaned back in his chairs, legs spread wide, and smirk on his lips as he looked up at her with his sharp gaze, allowing her to touch him. Perhaps that’s what sent me over the edge as I barged inside the studio in the most unceremonious way, making the girl yelp in fright and Mingi flinch as his eyes widened.

『Baby, you're all that I want

I want you all to myself

Oh, but you know me too well』

And when I was angry—or panicking, or hurt—all rational thoughts flew out the window as I was led by nothing else but pure instinct and a shit ton of unclear and not so necessarily nice thoughts. Simpler put, I wasn’t thinking nor making sense, but I couldn’t care less as I glared at the both of them while I struggled to mask the fury licking at my veins. They were both looking at me wide eyed, as if I had caught them doing something I wasn’t supposed to, and that made me snap before I could think through how to proceed with this whole shitshow, “Get out.”

For a second, even I didn’t recognize my voice as it dropped a few octaves, fierce gaze set on the blonde girl as she paled, eyes scrambling between Mingi and me as, suddenly, Mingi seemed to snap out of whatever scare I had given him by slamming his door open and into the wall. God, I hope I haven’t actually damaged it, because I certainly didn’t have the money to pay for it right now. I couldn’t look at the blonde girl anymore, heart beating fast in my chest as Mingi and I made eye contact, his eyebrows set in a deep frown as he had a sneer on his face.

“Excuse me?” God, even her voice was annoying. I looked back at the blonde girl and raised my eyebrows at her mockingly.

“Are you deaf?” I chuckled, but it was humorless, “Do I need to repeat myself?”

She huffed, looking offended—rightfully so—and I gritted my teeth as I stepped inside the studio, making it pretty obvious that I wasn’t going anywhere before this bitch left. I tried not to see red as Mingi’s hands balled up into fists or the way the girl snickered, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“You’re the one that’s barged inside uninvited, sweetheart,” And if I could have, I would have ripped her blonde strands out, “this isn’t your fucking studio, so, shut up. Mingi wants me here, maybe you should leave.”

I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing, somewhere deep in my mind realizing I looked absolutely psychotic and if Mingi didn’t hate me before, he certainly would hate me now. I wasn’t helping myself; I was making everything worse—just the usual, then. But this bitch wasn’t stopping me from getting what I came here for, and I hummed as my eyes fell on Mingi again, who’s jaw was clenching and unclenching. His sharp eyes were narrowed, but it seemed like he wasn’t saying anything anytime soon and that only pissed me off more.

“Sure,” I nodded and walked further inside, forcefully throwing my tote bag on the small couch against the wall on my left, making the contents of it spill out. I watched as both Mingi and the girl looked at the clothes, and Mingi’s expression flashed with something unreadable for a second, “Mingi wants you here.”

I suppose neither expected me not to stop until I reached the desk, coming up on Mingi’s left side as I slammed the thermos bottle—albeit too harshly—against the desk, a loud bang echoing in the room. Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed as I opened my mouth to tell the girl to leave again, but suddenly, he was up on his feet, staring me down. The height difference wasn’t that great between the two of us, but suddenly I felt small under his heated glare and sneer that seemed to settle on his lips, broad shoulders intimidating as he lowered his head just a little bit. He looked nothing like the Mingi I had gotten to know over the past few months, and it made my heart race as I realized I might not be able to reason with him today, “What the fuck is your problem, Y/N?! You tell her to get out when you barge in unwelcomed, and then start demanding for her to leave—”

I couldn’t even let him finish his sentence before I was firing back my argument, “Oh, what’s my fucking problem?! Maybe the fact that you lied to me?”

“About what?!” Mingi snapped, eyebrows furrowed as he took a step towards me, his body big enough to make the blonde girl not be seen behind him.

“Oh, be for real.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes, “You never show anyone your songs to? But you so conveniently let me listen to that unfinished song of yours and now look who else gets to listen to it? Her. If you’re so desperate to get laid, you should have—”

“I didn’t show her shit.” Mingi cut me off, voice shaking as his cheeks grew red from anger, probably. Mingi wasn’t a scary person, but he looked scary right now. There was no ounce of kindness in his expression nor tone, he looked cold and angry and like he hated me. I gulped and realized, once again, that I was digging myself deeper into the shithole I had created for myself, that I was hurting him again and again. This is not how things were supposed to go, “I only showed you. That unfinished song you’re talking about, only you know about it. Thanks for reminding me again why I shouldn’t deal with you anymore—”

“Stop it.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowing as I felt fear grip at my throat, making my voice sound shaky as Mingi’s expression went blank. I hated when he did that. I wanted to know what he was thinking about, I needed to see what he felt. I couldn’t do this if he withdrew himself, I couldn’t do this if I was the only one that would bare her heart to him. I was scared. He was pushing me away like Yunho had done, Mingi was abandoning me.

“Stop it?” If I wanted to cry when he laughed in my face mockingly, impassive smirk settling on his lips, I didn’t let it happen. I kept my composure, anger, hurt, desperation, yearning all mixing together as I found it harder and harder to breathe, “You want me to be nice to you after all the shit you said to me on Saturday? You want me to treat you like before after everything that’s happened? I can’t. You hurt me, made me feel like a fucking idiot, Y/N, you broke—I thought we were friends. I feel disrespected and played, and yet here you are again, acting like you have even an ounce of right to act the way you are right now, when it’s you who made it so fucking clear you want nothing to do with me anymore. Do you enjoy making others suffer? Do you want to see me on my fucking knees begging for your attention? I have enough self-respect to step back and move on with my life when someone so blatantly tells it to my face that I am nothing—”

“But you aren’t!” My tone raised without me meaning to as my heart continued to beat out of my chest so fast my ears started ringing. I felt tears prick at my eyes, but I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to victimize myself, I just wanted Mingi to understand I made a mistake, that I knew I did, and that I was trying to fix things. I didn’t want us to part ways, especially not like this, he made me realize this second that I didn’t want to lose him, “You aren’t nothing to me. I said those things because I’m scared. I don’t know how to navigate these feelings—”

“Save it, okay?” I was left gaping as Mingi shook his head, pushing his hands in the pockets of his light denim jeans, “I don’t want to hear whatever sob shit you have to say right now, I’m asking you kindly to leave before I call security and delete my number, like I have deleted yours.”

The silence that settled upon us was deafening and my eyebrows furrowed as a tear rolled down my cheek without warning, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to find my breath. That hurt, it hurt more than anything before, it hurt more than when Yunho left me, broke my heart. Mingi meant so much more to me than Yunho ever did, and I bit my lower lip as Mingi seemed unaffected, expression blank and rather bored. Nothing was making sense anymore. I was scared, but I also felt ready to break free of the chains of the past, I wanted Mingi. And knowing all this, I didn’t want to hold back anymore, I didn’t want to consider my next words anymore. I just wanted to speak my mind freely.

“My ex-boyfriend is Jeong Yunho, your best friend.” Mingi had almost turned away from me, but he froze, head slowly turning back to face me once again, ��We dated back in high school, many years ago, when we were still some headless and stupid teenagers. But he was the first boy I’ve ever loved and he fucking broke my heart, shattered into pieces with a bright smile on his lips. He promised me many things, and I was naïve, so I believed it all. And because I did, I ended up hurt beyond fixing and I’ve never trusted a man again. He was my first boyfriend and the center of my universe, yet he never cared enough about me to properly break up with me.

“Yunho talked about you all the time. Everything you liked, everything you hated, you were part of our daily conversations and I always wished to meet you, to see what was so great in you that had Yunho gushing all the time. I was jealous, so jealous that I became bitter. I started hating even the mention of your name, I selfishly wanted Yunho to myself, and you gone from his life. I couldn’t understand what was so great about you and why I wasn’t enough. I knew Yunho didn’t love me, but I wanted him to, so I made myself believe it, believe that I was worth more to him than you’ll ever be. And in the process, I stupidly made myself believe that he’d never leave me, that he was the one for me like he has said so many times before.

“He broke my heart so fucking bad that it took years until I could say his name or even see his face again. I am over him now, have been for a long time, but I can’t help still feel bitter about him. I can’t help but associate you with him at times. He made me defensive and untrusting of men, I couldn’t help but assume you’d be just like Yunho when I first met you, at least when I finally realized who you were. I felt so guilty, I tried to push you away but you wouldn’t fucking give up. You are everything yet nothing like Yunho and that scares me, because I want you, Mingi. But I’m scared you’ll abandon me like Yunho did, that you’ll fill my head with empty and pretty fantasies and then leave me alone with them, tearing my heart apart in the process. I want to open up, but I’m scared. I think, however, with you by my side, I’d be able to do that, to let my walls down.”

The silence that settled upon us, once again, was deafening and I gulped, heart racing and making me feel lightheaded as Mingi’s face had fallen, expression finally not as void as before. He looked shocked, but surprisingly, he didn’t look hurt nor like he would hate me for ever. It made me hopeful for a second, it made me sniff loudly and blink away the insisting tears from my eyes. He gulped and took a deep breath, making me stare in his eyes, hopeful and less scared, as he sighed and rubbed at his chin; a stubble was showing. Now that I come to think of it, he looks rather tired with bags under his eyes, and his platinum hair has a blue hue to it.

“I’m sorry he made you go through so much; I know it wasn’t easy.” Mingi’s tone finally lost the edge it had before, finally it wasn’t laced with so much anger, and it almost made me cry, “I kind of—I knew. Not exactly the whole thing, but I suppose I can say I had a feeling that there was history between you and Yunho. It was too obvious whenever I brought him up that you didn’t like him, at first I was confused, but then I suppose everything just clicked into place. The drawing of his eyes, the sweater you lent me and the fact that you gave it to me in the end—I’ve known since then that it was probably Yunho. I never said anything to him, not like that at least, I wanted you to come to me on your own, when you fully trusted me with the information. And I’m sorry, but he—he was an asshole back in high school, he was insecure and he played with everyone’s feelings, he was quite good at manipulating people around him. He’s mentioned dating you, but very few times, and by the time you had broken up I had all but forgotten about you, I suppose I wasn’t much better compared to him.

“But all of this isn’t my fault in the end, and while I completely understand your reasoning now and why you often acted the way you did, I’m sorry, but I can’t just let go of things and start anew. There’s just—too many things that have happened, emotions that you stirred up in me, and I just can’t do it, I—it’s not even about you and Yunho, I don’t give a fuck about it, it was ages ago and Yunho is a changed man and I know he’s long moved on. And you too, I believe you have, you seemed less bitter lately, but I just can’t. I can’t help but ask again, what do you want, YN?”

At least he wasn’t mad at me, but I did feel ashamed that I made him piece everything together on his own, that I wasn’t capable of telling him the truth myself. I have made mistakes, sure, but Mingi apparently didn’t hate me for them, “I just want to apologize, for everything.”

Mingi nodded and I watched in despair as that cold mask slipped back onto his face, expression void of any emotion once again. It made me want to grab his shoulders and shake them, force him to look deep into my eyes and just see everything I felt for him, “That’s fine, I accept your apology. If that’s all, you can leave—”

“But that’s not all!” I snapped, having had enough of being dismissed by him. I saw the way his jaw twitched, the way his eyebrows furrowed at my defiance, at my reluctance to leave just yet. I was being pathetic and a pain in the ass, but I had to make him understand that I was ready to leave all my fears behind for him, to learn how to be a better person next to him. I wanted to change, and I wanted it to happen with him by my side, with him guiding me and teaching me how to be more like him, and less like the shitty person I was for so long. I longed to be the way I was before meeting Yunho, a lot happier and a lot less broody and hateful of the beautiful things that surrounded me, “Mingi, I cannot stop thinking about you. I spend every waking moment when we’re apart wondering what you’re up to, what’s going through your mind, whether you’re okay or not. And I’ve been drawing you, since the first time I saw you, you’ve captured my attention, you’ve made me curious of who you were the longer we spent time together. I don’t want to be like this anymore, I don’t want to hurt you anymore and shut you out, I want to fix everything. I want to—I just want you, Mingi.”

There was a quiet scoff behind Mingi, but neither one of us reacted to it as our gazes bore into each other, my eyes glinting with yearning and his façade slowly breaking down as he released a shaky breath, “Mingi, I adore you.”

“Get out.” For a second, my body froze as I thought he was addressing me, but then, he whirled around and pointed towards the studio’s still open door, “Get out, now.”

And I just realized that the blonde girl had been witness to everything, and I couldn’t help but blanch in embarrassment as she made to interject, but I guess Mingi’s sharp eyes made her reconsider her choice as she huffed and then stormed out of the studio. My cheeks felt hot and I realized the clothes were making me sweaty, so as Mingi hurried towards the door to close it, I shrugged my jacket off and placed it neatly on the back of the sofa together with my thick scarf. And as I looked up, mouth dry as the door clicked shut and Mingi turned around, it felt like time stopped, like the world stopped moving. But Mingi was moving towards me, in nothing more than three steps he stood in front of me, and before I could even as much as try to reason with him or plead more to be forgiven, warm fingers dug into my cheeks and the wind was knocked from my lungs as his plush warm lips slammed against mine, making me gasp as my eyes remained wide open.

『Filthy impetuous soul

I wanna give it to you』

I thought he wouldn’t want anything to do with me, I thought he’d tell me that he needed time to forgive me completely and for us to work things out. But I couldn’t help shudder and feel ecstatic as I grabbed the collar of his shirt and cardigan, my eyes falling shut, as I pulled him closer to my body, savoring the kiss as if it was our first. But it wasn’t anything like that one, it wasn’t soft nor careful nor slow, it was hurried and desperate as Mingi pushed me backward, pressing me against the wall, right between the small space between the sofa and the desk. My arms circled his neck as he grabbed my nape with one big hand and pressed his other into the small of my back, making it arch as my fingers tangled into his soft hair, not pulling, just feeling the need to hold onto something, to keep myself grounded.

And much like the first time, our lips seemed to fit perfectly, and I tried not to keen when he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling on the soft flesh, and I tried not to turn into a puddle when he hummed lowly against my lips as my fingers flexed in his hair. Perhaps I kissed him a bit harder and more aggressively as our pace quickened, my hand holding the side of his neck as Mingi pressed his body into mine until it felt like he was trying to forbid me even of the idea of escaping from his clutches, and I had no fucking intention of going anywhere, because in his arms I felt content and safe, and perhaps a bit too hot as goosebumps covered my arms the longer our lips moved hungrily against each other. And when I cupped his cheeks and perhaps held onto them a bit too firmly, his lips parted, and I ignored my lungs screaming for air as my tongue slipped past his parted mouth. I didn’t expect him to moan as our tongues tangled together, all wet and perhaps a little disgusting, but neither one of us cared about that.

I tried to stand on my tip toes for better access as Mingi’s ring clad fingers were suddenly running through my hair and tilting my head back, making my skin tingle where he held my hip firmly. I had been kissed by other people before, but neither felt like with Mingi, neither made me crave more and more and more. But our lungs could only go on so long without air, and I would’ve been embarrassed for the loud gasp I let out when we finally parted, if it wasn’t for Mingi diving straight for my neck and finding the sweet spot that made me putty in his arms. And I tried to ignore his deep grunts as my fingers got tangled in his platinum blonde strands as he pressed open mouthed and wet kisses against my neck, his arms around my hips pulling me into an embrace that had my pulse showing through the skin of my neck. My lips were tingling and my lungs actually hurt, but I couldn’t care less when Mingi finally pulled back and blinked his dark eyes open, pupils dilated and lips so swollen he almost made me chase after them once again.

『Oh, just to see what you'd do

'Cause I'm so drunk on you』

“What’s in the thermos?” His voice was raspier than usual, and it made me bite my bottom lip as my eyes searched his face, his falling on my lips instead.

“Hot chocolate, for peace making.” I answered, sounding a lot more breathless than I actually felt, and Mingi chuckled, the sound deep in his throat. I let my arms fall from his shoulders and instead circled them around his torso, trying to fight off the smile from my lips. Mingi didn’t look angry nor dismissive anymore, but I knew I wasn’t actually forgiven just yet. And that was only fair.

“This is peacemaking, not the hot chocolate.” And there it was, the mischievous glint in his eyes and the smug smirk on his lips as he squeezed my hips once and lowered his face until our lips brushed together, “Although I do appreciate the hot chocolate too.”

“Good, my mom was rather excited when she told me to give it to you.” I pressed a chaste kiss against Mingi’s lips before he could try and say anything, and he chuckled when I pulled away, eyes creasing and crooked front teeth showing.

“What are we now?” His voice was a mere whisper, not insecure nor scared, just wondering, “What do you want?”

I gulped, but decided to be honest. No more hiding my feelings and thoughts from him, “I don’t know just yet, and that’s why I need you to take the lead, but this—I want more of this, of you.”

“Good,” Mingi hummed, lips pursed as he kissed my cheek once before slowly releasing me from his warm embrace, “because I’ve been wanting more of you for fucking ages, doll.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as suddenly I felt embarrassed and perhaps a little shy, but Mingi seemed to be unphased as he grabbed my tote bag and looked through it because his clothes were in it, “You can keep these, they looked better on you anyway. But you better not give them to Yunho if he ever happens to go over to your house—”

“Mingi.” I snapped mortified and pushed his arm as he dropped the tote bag and burst out laughing, giving me a cheeky smile.

“Want to hear the rest of the song I made for you?”

“For me?”

“Yeah, doll, for you.”

            By the time I managed to get home I might as well been on cloud nine and in so much ecstasy that one would think I was on drugs. Which, kind of felt like it after the day I have had—not that I’ve ever done any drugs. I failed to notice my mother’s silhouette in the window of our kitchen when I got out of Mingi’s car and, of course, that meant she saw him get out of his old Honda Prelude and jog after me to kiss me hard and leave me dizzy before he left. And all of that, of course, meant that by the time I unlocked the front door and stepped inside, my mother was leaning against the archway of the kitchen with the widest smirk I’ve ever seen on her face.

“So, did you have sex?”

My eyes widened in mortification and I struggled to step out of my boots and shrug off my jacket, “Mom!”

“So, you did, huh.” It wasn’t even a question, and suddenly running after Mingi’s car sounded a lot better than standing in front of my mother as she bit her bottom lip, giving me a wink.

“We didn’t!” I exclaimed, cheeks flushed a deep red as I cradled the tote bag to my chest, “He needs to take me out on a date first—many dates, actually.”

“Well, he better hurry up then cuz you’re glowing and you’re happy.” I froze at my mother’s words as she looked at me with a serene expression on her face, lips pulled into a small smile, forgetting all about her previous teasing, “He’s good for you, too good. I haven’t seen you so relaxed and happy since—since highschool.”

Since Yunho broke up with me.

“I know, and I will make sure I never hurt him again.” I told my mom and she hummed, looking down at her wristwatch.

“You missed lunch, by the way, so you’ll eat chicken tenders—”

“Again?!”

“Again, exactly. Go wash up before dinner.”

And I was out of her sight in no time, with a newfound rush in my system, skin tingling as I realized I craved to hold my pencil and my sketchbook in my hands. I couldn’t remember the last time I drew something for me and not because it was an assignment. And if hours later the sketch looked a lot like a familiar platinum blonde haired man with sharp eyes and a tall nose wearing blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a beige cardigan over it, accessories many and nails painted black, then I wouldn’t even deny it anymore. Perhaps he would love seeing my drawings. Perhaps I should finally show him.

Mings 🖤: date on wednesday? Me: but im paying this time Mings 🖤: so when we went to the pottery coffee shop it was a date wasnt it, doll Me: maybe it was maybe it wasnt Mings 🖤: no maybes this time

『Oh, but you know me too well

Oh, but you know me too well, well』

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To Know That I'm With You - Chapter 9

Nessian | Ch. 9 | Ao3

Eternally, @popjunkie42 has the keys to my heart and my google docs. Okay, okay, friends I hear you. Originally, Cassian's only POVs were going to be the prologue and epilogue, but everyone's comments about being excited for his POV inspired me, lol. SO, I went back and did some writing. Now, you all get what I'm calling a few Cassian clips.

When Nesta awoke the next morning, she knew before she even moved that something was very, very wrong.

She tried to stand, worrying that perhaps her instincts were telling her that someone had infiltrated their cave despite the sigils. But she’d stumbled immediately, her leg not able to bear any weight at all. The wall of the cave was sharp against her skin, making her hiss. Stars bloomed behind her closed eyes, and she knew with great clarity that her leg was deeply infected. 

Cassian, of course, hadn’t missed a beat. He sprung up like he wasn’t injured at all as Nesta yelped and leaned heavily against the wall. 

“You’re injured?”

She waved him off, grumbling. “It was fine last night when I put the poultice on.”

“It’s clearly not fine now.” He helped her back to the ground. “Settle, I’m alright.”

“Your wing–”

“–is fine today.” He ruffled the wing behind him as though to show her that the injury felt better, but she scowled up at him. 

“You should be taking it easy. There’s no way it’s healed,” she snapped back, trying to ease, but more so collapsing, to the ground. 

“It isn’t healed, but it’s well enough that it doesn’t hurt. And I’ve slept for nearly a full day. I won’t be able to fly for a good while, but it doesn’t mean I can’t function.” He was already shuttling more wood towards the dying fire, his eyes not leaving her.

Fuck . It hurt like fire was seizing her leg, the panic clawing up her throat every second. She could barely walk, let alone travel or care for herself. The walls of the cave began to feel like they were growing closer.

“You don’t have to mother me.” She spit the words like venom, hated that she couldn’t just get up and leave.

“I’m not mothering,” he replied, his voice infuriatingly even. She closed her eyes, ignoring him and the feeling of his eyes back on her again as her head swam with the pain.

The ache was so bone deep it made her grit her teeth. She knew the telltale traits of infection from treating Feyre’s many injuries and overhearing the horror stories from the family guards, and she knew these weren’t good signs. She pulled the gauze to the side as she clamped her jaw tightly shut. The skin around the wound was angry and red, dark streaks spiraling out from it beneath her skin. The injury was not healing the way it had been before. 

Was it worth it for her to chew another entire root and knock out just to heal? It had healed her ankle before, but was she willing to be completely unconscious for hours around Cassian?

Absolutely not.

The thought of a stranger with her while she hallucinated was so overwhelming that she shut the thought down immediately. She didn’t care how badly off she was, she wasn’t risking it. 

He seems like a good man. He would take care of me.

She fought with her mind again, forcing it to shut up as it tried to convince her otherwise. Normally, Nesta felt she had a good head on her shoulders, a solid perspective and direction to move at each decision. But lately, it seemed like her mind had split in two, and each part of her wanted something very different. Especially when it came to Cassian. 

He wants to help.

She growled in irritation and pain. 

No.

She’d made it this far on her own. She could get through a measly infection.

“Gods, Nesta.” His shocked exclamation startled her from her own back and forth, and she went to cover her leg with her hands. But in a heartbeat, he was kneeling in front of her, wings spread wide behind him, the light of the fire dotting through the remaining unhealed openings. He was right– they were substantially fewer and farther between now. The sight spun a little in front of her, vision doubling then coming back to normal.

He had her wrists in his hands, prying them away from the cut with surprising gentleness. She hesitated, but he paused with her, his eyes meeting hers. Something in the way he waited, in the halting of his own movements…

He was a stranger. But, in this moment, he felt safe. 

She let him touch her, the size of his hands positively dwarfing her own. They were warm and calloused against the skin of her wrist, her pulse fluttering wildly beneath them. 

“Why didn’t you say how badly you were hurt?” His eyes found hers through a deeply furrowed brow, that scar flexing as they moved. 

“It wasn’t so bad when I fell asleep. I thought the poultice would heal it.” 

“You’ve been limping around on this?”

“I told you already, it didn’t hurt this badly yesterday,” she snapped back. The sharp movement made her yelp before she could stop it, and a look flashed over Cassian’s face so intensely that it stole her breath. 

“Where is everything you used on my wing? Tell me, and I’ll get it for you.”

“You don’t have to–”

“Nesta. I’m not asking.” She was taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor. It was far removed from the jovial teasing of the last day.

Nesta wasn’t used to it from him. She wasn’t used to it from anyone. 

“Alright, don’t get your pants in a twist. The bowls and cloths are next to my bag.” She pointed. “There should be a little water left. I was going to go out this morning and find a new water source.” She suddenly felt guilty for putting it off. 

“I can do it.”

“It isn’t far,” she offered as he busied himself, getting the fire roaring and the skin of water boiling over the flames.

“Can you describe to me where the water source is?” he asked. She remembered the map didn’t work for him, the ink enchanted only for her. 

“Fetch it out of the bag and let me see it.” He did so without protest, handing the ragged map back to her as she pinpointed the nearby stream she’d seen yesterday. “It’s a five minute walk east from here. Not the way we came.”

He leveled her with a stare. “I know what east means, Nesta.” 

She scoffed in response, ignoring him otherwise. “It looks like it’s a stream banked by two boulders right to the left of the path. One is shaped a bit like an egg.”

“That map must have decent markers.” The levity had returned to his voice. “I’ll go now while this heats. Don’t move.” 

“Yes, Mother,” she lobbed back, smirking sarcastically as he glowered at her. 

She followed his directions while he was gone. 

Mostly. 

She had painstakingly crawled over to her bag once she heard his footsteps fade, pulling it back with her to the bedroll with a shot of pain that had her holding back a groan. She needed to see if there were any attainable alternatives for medicinal plants that would help her heal. She was definitely well on her way to infection, if not already situated firmly within it, but there was no way she’d be comfortable taking the char root in a quantity large enough to help. She nibbled the tip of it just to take the edge off the pain and flipped through the book. There were plenty of poultice-type recipes, but nothing stronger than what she already had. 

You can trust him.

She gritted her teeth.

Can I? 

He hadn’t given her any reason not to. But still…

To be that vulnerable, that incapacitated in front of him. The thought was unbearable. Nesta knew how men were, what they wanted and how they took it. She’d met enough men like that to last her more than a lifetime. 

She stumbled outside to relieve herself before he returned, each step feeling like a roaring flame erupting around her leg. It was so unbearable that her vision began to white out as she staggered back into the cave after finishing. She all but threw herself down against the wall and into her bedroll, her breath coming in sharp pants.

Take the root. 

She couldn’t.

She’d simply need to clean it well and keep it well wrapped while she managed the pain and hoped it resolved on its own.

She had enough dried fruit and mushrooms to get them by for a few days, but without foraging, she’d run out before long. The jerky was entirely gone now. She put what was left of the food near the fire, then laid her head back against the cave wall and sighed, closing her eyes and waiting. 

Cassian was back in what felt like a blink, his shirt still off and the water skins full and heavy in his arms. 

“Good stream. Just about the distance you said.”

“Did you think I'd lie?” she asked with an eyebrow raised, but her labored breathing made her remarks come out hoarse. Cassian stalled with concern painted as clear as day across his face. He set the skins down, shuffling the boiling water off the open flame to cool and already getting to work arranging the items she’d need.

He worried over her like a mother hen. “Let me see it.” She shuffled a bit. 

“I can do it myself. Stop hovering.”

He leveled her with another glare. “I know a bit about injuries. You cared for mine when I couldn’t. Now let me help.”

She grit her teeth and all but growled at him. “I said , it’s fine.”

He rolled his eyes and Nesta’s defenses were up again. “You’re hurt. What was that you said about it would hurt less if you’d just let me help? ” He threw her own words back at her.

Nesta begrudgingly relented, choosing again to not correct him about the equalizing of their scales. He’d saved her life, he was going to stay on with her as she hiked to the Illyrian Mountains, now he was tending her wounds. The scales were tipping irreparably to one side already. But there was no room for argument. Cassian was already shifting so the light from the fire could fall on her leg as he inspected it. 

She sat restlessly beneath his watchful eyes, the soft press of his fingers near the wound causing her to inhale a sharp breath. If she was any more in her right mind, the indecency of the placement of his hands might have upset her more, but the char root had her feeling numbed, a pleasant buzzing in her ears as she let him take in the damage. 

“This is from the beast in the woods?” he asked, his hazel eyes lifting to meet hers. 

They were a dark, lush green. So deep that they looked like evergreen trees in the moonlight. From any other distance, they might be mistaken for a brown so dark it teetered on black, if not for the golden flecks in them. They rotated around the iris, almost red towards the center. She’d never seen any eyes like his, the colors in them melding like paints in a pool of fallen leaves on the forest floor.

“Nesta?”

She blinked, and her heart thumped. 

What had he asked?

“Is this from the monster?”

“Oh, yes. It got me just before you landed. A single claw, but it was enough.” 

He hummed thoughtfully, turning her leg in the flickering light. “I’m going to clean it. It’s showing signs of infection, and I worry that the poultice won’t be enough.”

Exactly what I thought, too.

The first touch of the warm cloth on her skin had her jumping, the sting of the wound nearly unbearable beneath his steady hands. 

“ Fuck, that hurts.” 

“I’m sorry.” And he sounded like he meant it. “Do you have any more of the char root you could take?”

Trust him.

Trust him.

No . 

“No, it’s gone. I took the last tiny bit of it while you were out.”

He looked at her apologetically. “I’ll be quick.” And he was. She could tell without looking that he’d done this before. She wanted to ask him about it–ask him to distract her with stories of the more gruesome injuries that he’d treated in his lifetime so she could think about anything but her own. 

But she couldn’t, her jaw clenched tightly as she tried not to scream. She should have eaten more of the root, taken a larger bite and damned the consequences. It hurt , and her mind was screaming as he cleaned the infected skin, dutifully making sure he missed nothing. 

After countless swipes with the cloth, Nesta felt near delusional with the effort of holding herself together. 

“...esta. Nesta?” Her thoughts swam back into focus as she blinked her eyes open, only to see Cassian’s own staring worriedly into hers. “I’m done. You still with me?”

She nodded feebly, wetting her cracked lips with her tongue. Her throat felt raw. Had she actually been screaming? Cassian looked so concerned as he crouched on the ground in front of her. 

“I reapplied the poultice and wrapped it. We’re done.” She looked down in surprise. She had missed him doing that in the cloud of relentless pain. 

“Thank you,” she rasped out, and he leaned over to grab her a water skin and place it in her hands. “How bad is it?”

He cringed. “It isn’t great.”

“But you’ve seen worse?” She tried to crack a joke, but the question just came out sounding desperate. Cassian hid another grimace badly. 

“Of course. I’ve lived through wars. I’ve seen much, much worse.” 

She nodded, then let her head fall back against the wall. She could hear the unsaid words. 

I’ve seen worse, and it ended how you might expect.

“There are still mushrooms and dried fruit by the fire,” she croaked pitifully. 

Cassian nodded, then busied himself in the cave, cleaning and putting the supplies near her bag. She’d have to do it all again tomorrow. The thought exhausted her. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, Cassian was asleep on the ground. Closer now than he had been before.

She must have fallen asleep. 

She blinked again and he was awake beside her, reading one of her books. When she stirred, he bent down and offering her some of the fruit. The thought turned her stomach. 

“Nesta, you need to eat.” The words echoed in and out, the sound reverberating as though bouncing around in her mind. She tried to shake her head, thought she might have, but the darkness was closing in again, the things in her vision catching and blurring. 

She had a final thought that this wasn’t normal. 

When Nesta woke again, the cave was quiet save for the crackling of the fire and Cassian’s steady breathing by her side. He was propped beside her against the wall of the cave. 

At first, she thought he might be asleep, but he opened his eyes and looked at her the moment she moved. His face swam in and out of her vision. 

His beautiful face.

Some emotion flickered across it and she wondered if she hadn’t spoken the words aloud. She thought she might be blushing, but her whole body felt hot. 

“Nesta, is there anything else in your bag that might help?” His voice was warped, the sound quiet and loud all at once. 

She wanted to answer, but the words wouldn’t come. Her mouth was so dry, her eyes hurt with the effort to keep them open as sharp fractals of firelight magnified and swam across her vision. She wanted to tell him to get the char root, but it was too late. Her mouth wouldn’t move with the words she wanted so badly for it to say. She could see plain as day the horror on his face as he watched her. 

Nesta would die here, not from some animal attack or a mythical beast, but from a simple infection and her own blasted stubbornness. 

She could feel his hand on her jaw, warm and large, nearly encompassing her entire face. 

“Please, Nesta. If there’s anything else…”

She opened her mouth. She wanted so badly to tell him. The thought hit her from the depths of her spinning consciousness. 

She didn’t want this to be the last time she saw him. 

She didn’t want to die in this cave. 

Her adventure wasn’t over. Her purpose not yet fulfilled. She hadn’t risked everything to die like this. 

“--ch–char.” She had no idea if she’d actually managed to say the words aloud until Cassian reacted.

He leaned in immediately. “What? Nesta, say it again.”

“Bag–root.” She tried to point but her hand barely moved. 

“There’s more char root in your bag?” It sounded like he was screaming the words as he moved, the air cold around her at his sudden absence. 

“ You stupid, stubborn woman… ”

She could have laughed at the words, but her consciousness was slipping again, the awareness like grains of sand in an hour glass, dropping through the hole one by one. Certainly, Cassian was not the only one who thought that about her.

She felt the gentle opening of her mouth, something wet and sticky and coarse dropping into it. 

“Chew it, Nesta. Chew and swallow.” She tried. 

Was she doing it? Was anything happening? 

She tried again. 

She could hear Cassian distantly cursing.

“Nesta, please… ”

The words drifted as she did, a pleasant feeling of rumbling nothing sweeping through her body. She tried, again and again, unsure if it was all in her mind or if anything was actually happening. Blissfully, the pain was ebbing, the reality of it all slipping away. There, in the firelight, she could only feel the warmth of a single bloodred wing embracing her. 

Am I already dreaming?

“Sleep, Nesta. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

+++

She could feel the strangling lace of the wedding dress beneath her fingers, the corset tight around her ribs and waist. She couldn’t see anything, the air around her opaque with something like a white, smoky haze.

It was hard to breathe, the strings pulling tighter and tighter as she fruitlessly tried to gulp lungfuls of air against the tugging on her chest. 

“Suck it in, Nesta.” The words rattled around in her mind. Not because of what they were, but because of who said them. She recognized that voice, though for years she’d only heard it in her nightmares. “Tomas won’t want a fat bride. Your chest doesn’t do you any favors.” 

Her mother tugged the corset tighter, tighter, until Nesta couldn’t breathe at all, the world spinning around her and the lace itching her skin raw. 

“Don’t. Please don’t make me do this.” She was crying, uncaring of who saw the break in her carefully curated walls. She would scream, cry, and beg on her knees if it got her out of this. “You know what he’s like, Momma. Please. Please.”

She felt the slap on her face, her skin burning up. 

“Pathetic.” The word echoed. 

Pathetic.

“You’re lucky he’s even still taking this deal.” Her mother’s voice hissed around her in the sightless gloom. “Feyre gone, the Archeron name sullied. Because of  you. You had a single job and you couldn’t do it. Pathetic.”

Pathetic. 

Unlovable. 

Couldn’t do it.

“You will serve him, Nesta. Whatever he wants.”

“No! Momma, please.” She went to turn but found she couldn’t, her hands dragging down as great chains bound her to the floor. “You know what he’s like. Don’t do this.”

Her chest heaved now with sobs. She grabbed for her mother’s dress in the haze like a child, casting her hands out into the void until she felt fabric.

“I’ll do anything. Anything. Please, Momma. He’ll break me, he’ll–”

“And it will be what you deserve.”

The air around her blustered, the fabric slipping from her hands and the smoke swirling. Her mother was gone.

It is what I deserve.

The words hung heavy. Her soul hung heavy. 

Someone grabbed her arms, the hands large and hot near her shoulders. For a moment, she wondered if it was Cassian, here to save her again when she didn’t deserve it. But the voice in her ear was not his. 

“It is what you deserve.” She flinched by reflex, Tomas’ low voice creeping around the nape of her neck and making her recoil. “ I am what you deserve.”

She tore at the chains, but it was no use. She could feel him behind her, pressed against her back. He was closing in, and there was nothing she could do. No one left here for her. 

“I don’t want this. I don’t want this…”

But the words meant nothing. They never had. 

Nesta was there to serve a purpose, to fill a role, no matter what she might have wanted. She wasn’t wanted for her, only her name, her position, her family, her breeding potential. Never her. 

She sobbed again in the quiet haze, the hopelessness of her situation sinking in.

But nothing happened. 

The silence stretched on and on, no more threats or horrid words. Then Nesta realized the weight at her wrists was gone, the hands on her arms, too. There was a caress across her skin, soft as a breeze around her hands. She blinked her eyes open to find the haze had been replaced with a soft, orange glow. She could hear a muted crackling, like the low burning of logs on an open flame.

Am I by the fire?

She looked down. Around her hands fluttered a rope–no, a ribbon. It was the same orangeish red hue, glowing brightly, flickering around her hands as though it wanted her to grab it. It was warm when she wrapped her hands around it, solid to the touch. It pulled her forward, and she followed.

She felt warmth all around her now instead of the desolate clammy mist that had covered her before. There was a sense of safety as she moved through the cloudy brightness with the ribbon in her hands. 

I am safe here.

Wherever here was. The ribbon stopped tugging, disappearing into the glow.

Some part of her recognized that red suffusion of light, the comfort of it easing her tension and fear and replacing it with exhaustion. 

Here, I can sleep. Here, I can rest.

+++

Cassian

In the low light, Cassian watched her sleep. 

It was the softest he’d seen her since he met her, the peace on her face making her look exactly as young as she was. Her body was finally still, the twitching stopping as her fever began to break, that frantic worry that had filled him starting to ease off. Her head still rested on his thigh where he’d put it to keep an eye on her while she slept. There was something strangely enchanting about her now—lying there, still, her chest rising and falling with the slow, rhythmic ease of someone who didn’t need to fight.

Her breath caught lightly on an inhale, the tiniest snore Cassian had ever heard, and her lips stayed parted as the flickering firelight cast shadows across her skin.

Nesta Archeron.

What were the fucking odds?

He’d spent much of the last two days wondering exactly this. Cassian wasn’t one to put much stock into fate, but he wasn’t an idiot either. There had been so many moments in his life where the timing had been something spectacular, something nearly unbelievable, but nothing quite so stark as this. If he hadn’t heard her scream, if he hadn’t been slowed by his wings and flying over at that exact moment, he’d have passed right by this place–right over her. He refused to think of what would have happened to her if he’d been only moments later.

She murmured something he couldn’t make out, her lips dry and cracked. The urge to dip his fingers into the water skin and run them over her lips almost possessed him, but he already knew she’d be uncomfortable with the way she slept–he wasn’t going to push it. 

It didn’t take much to understand that Nesta didn’t allow many, if any, people to see her this way. The memory Rhys had shared with him had told him that much, certainly. Feyre probably knew her own sister better than anyone else, and she’d outright told them how closed off she was–how many walls she had up to prevent people from being let in. Cassian brushed a light touch over Nesta’s brow as it furrowed in sleep. It was sticky with sweat but cooling now, her fever finally broken. He breathed a sigh of relief at that, at least. 

He’d been almost sure that they were too late. 

Stubborn, willful woman. 

His eyes studied her face again as they had at every opportunity since he’d met her. Stubborn, willful, beautiful woman. 

She’d refused the char root, lied about having it, all because she didn’t trust him. He understood–he’d probably have done the same in her situation. Strangely, she reminded him so much of Azriel that it had knocked the breath from him more than once. But still, the lack of trust stung more than he cared to admit. When he’d come back to the cave to find her looking like death, he’d panicked. He hadn’t smelled the infection on her, the cloying mint of the poultice covering the decay of gangrene in her skin. She’d been feeding him and caring for his injuries all this time, and he’d missed how badly she was hurt. 

She’d done a good enough job of covering it that Cassian didn’t doubt a word Feyre had shared about her. This was a woman used to hiding her own suffering through any and all means. And when she’d let him finally see the severity of it, he’d nearly passed out himself. 

How had a human been functioning on this leg? He’d fought wars with men that this injury would have incapacitated. He’d done what he could, taking great care to clean and dress it as well as possible while she grit her teeth in pain. He’d lost her a few times, the pain of it all slipping her off to somewhere else, compartmentalizing the agony in her mind. But the way she’d looked at him when she was lucid, her small hand gripping him for dear life…

It had done something to Cassian– changed something within him. 

The moment when he saw her resolve flutter, that ice-cold exterior cracking just enough to let him in, had nearly undone him. Now, as he stroked a hand lightly across her hair, smoothing it away from her face, he knew that was true. In the short time since he’d plummeted from the sky, he had become strangely attached to this fierce human woman–his High Lady’s sister. 

Even human, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Nesta reminded him of sharpened steel, the beautiful glint of a newly hewn sword or dagger. She reminded him of the tearing winds off Ramiel’s face, the glittering ice on the way up. She was jagged edges and unyielding determination and grit and ferocity. But there was something hidden and soft about her that kept drawing Cassian closer. 

“She is distant and cold because she knows if she isn’t, then she can be hurt.” How long had it been since Nesta could relax? Strangely, Cassian wanted to be the one to see her let her guard down, and he somehow knew he’d do anything for it. 

She murmured in her sleep again, and he let his hand smooth her hair down. Silver eyes flickered back and forth beneath shut lids, and she whimpered low in her throat. He couldn't help himself from brushing another sweaty lock of hair from her forehead and letting his hand linger on her cheek. He wanted to soothe the worry away–take whatever it was that was haunting her and do anything he could to help her find some peace.

She calmed again, her body relaxing against him and the hard stone of the floor as he tugged the blanket back up that she’d shrugged off. At least they were out of danger. He leaned his head back against the cave wall and closed his eyes. His wings rustled, trying to find a more comfortable position. He couldn’t believe the speed with which she’d mended them, no pause or hesitation in her methods. As a human, she’d likely never seen anything even remotely like his wings before–she probably hadn’t known for more than the weeks she’d spent in Prythian that creatures like him existed at all. Still, she’d stitched them together, holding him down with one arm while he’d writhed in the strangest combination of pain and overwhelming arousal that he’d ever experienced. Her fingers had been strong but delicate, the touch of them sending him into some mental space he’d never quite entered before. No one touched his wings but him. Even when he’d been injured in the past, he’d been knocked out while they were fixed. But he hadn’t stopped her. He didn’t regret it. 

And he couldn’t help but prod her when she’d understood what was happening–couldn’t resist teasing out that beautiful blush that crept up her neck to her high cheekbones. But the way she’d touched them, cared for them…it had felt intimate beyond belief. Instead of feeling vulnerable or snapping, Cassian had felt so oddly safe under the care of this prickly woman he’d only just met, even with her sharp-barbed words. 

He sighed, reaching out with his mind again in the silence of the cave to find only a foggy darkness. 

Rhys…

He’d been trying since the first night, only to be met with nothing but eerie, heavy quiet. It reminded him too much of the way things had been for the last five decades, and it made him so uncomfortable he itched. Either the distance or The Middle was interfering, but regardless, nothing was getting through. 

Would they come for him eventually? They had no way to know where he had landed, no way to know he hadn't made it to The Human Lands. They hadn’t even set up any check ins, assuming that he wouldn’t run into any difficulties. When would they start to wonder? Would they find them walking north to Illyria? Hopefully, by the time they reached a friendlier court, he could reach out to Rhys somehow and get help.

Abruptly, Nesta cried out, her body trying to curl in on itself so violently that Cassian lurched forward to keep her head from hitting the floor. 

“Please… Please! ” Her voice was anguished, the cries desperate as they fell from her mouth. 

“I’ll do anything. Anything.” She cried out again, and it was all Cassian could do to hook an arm around her shoulders to keep her still. He ran a thumb in circles over her shoulder, trying hard to be a soothing presence. He’d had his experiences with char root enough times to know that attempting to wake someone during the nightmares was a horrible idea. Still, he held her through it, hoping that the gentle rocking motion would soothe her rather than frighten her further.

“ Please, Momma. He’ll break me, he’ll–” The words echoed in the cave as she whimpered, her voice sounding so frail and unlike her. But it was the words themselves that made Cassian see red. 

Who had hurt her? Who had this fearsome woman of steel and stone so frightened that she ran from them in her worst nightmares? He’d seen the way she’d reacted when he’d lost his temper and slammed his fist into the cave floor–had seen the way she drew back into herself like she had to remember where she was. Nesta had been hurt by someone–likely a man–and the thought brought such wrath and fury to the surface of Cassian’s consciousness that he needed to force himself to take a breath.

Someone had hurt her, and the thought sent his feelings careening into a rage he’d rarely felt off the battlefield. Her nose and brow scrunched, almost as if in pain, and the glint of a single tear at the corner of her eye almost pushed him over the edge. 

He needed to rein it in for her. She was vulnerable. She didn’t need his wrath, she needed his comfort. He leaned down to whisper the words in her ear, brushing the tear away as it made a track down her temple.

“You’re safe, Nesta. You can rest.”

Though she didn’t wake, she seemed to calm at the words, a deep, shuddering exhale leaving her. 

“I’ll keep you safe.” The words left him without him even thinking about it, as though he hadn’t meant to say them at all. But he had the bone-deep knowledge immediately that he meant them. That he’d do anything to make sure that she wasn’t harmed. He’d come here for Rhys and Feyre, but there was no doubt in his mind that, now, he was here for Nesta.

Still asleep, her hand shot up to grab at his where it rested on her shoulder, her small fingers twisting to interlock with his like she needed the contact, the anchor. Her pulse beat against his fingers, the fluttering of it like the thumping of a wild rabbit in a trap. Slowly, it returned to normal, her breathing evening back out as whatever nightmare plagued her faded away. 

Once she was settled, he relaxed back against the wall again. Even though she was asleep, even though it meant nothing, she had trusted him. His heart pulsed strangely at the sentiment, a warmth that he wasn’t familiar with beating through his veins. Once she woke, her walls would rise again, as if nothing had changed–he wasn’t foolish enough to think otherwise. Her harshness would return, the distance between them would widen, and the woman who had let him care for her would be gone. But for now, in the firelight, she was beautiful beyond words—soft, unguarded, and safe enough that she’d let him care for her in a way she wouldn’t let anyone else.

It wasn’t long before he was falling asleep to the steady beat of her heartbeat against his skin. 

+++

Nesta’s eyelids felt like stone and dust as she blinked back into consciousness. 

Her head felt heavy and clouded, her tongue a useless weight in her mouth. 

How long have I been asleep?

She was immediately aware of what had occurred, remembering the char root that she’d taken by force at the last possible moment. 

Stupid, Nesta. So incredibly stupid. 

She was already more lucid than she had been before, painfully aware now of how close she’d come to irreparable damage for her pride. She took stock of her body as she blinked, trying to focus her eyes. Her body ached, her thigh tender, and her skin itched with the sensation of dried sweat. 

Lovely. 

Her fever must have broken in the night, the steady orange light of the fire the only thing illuminating the cave. As her vision returned, she realized that she was staring at the rocky ceiling, the stone jagged above her head as it caught the flickering shadows. Her head was on something soft and warm, her neck cradled on the material like a pillow. Then the pillow moved. 

She startled, her body jerking to attention as though she’d been shocked. She had been resting on Cassian’s lap, her head cradled on one of his thighs as she slept. 

Her body recoiled sharply, but everything spun madly around her and the arm she’d tried to use wasn’t supporting her weight. The nausea was so overwhelming that she thought she might vomit, might fall straight into it after, but two hands lightly gripped her shoulders. 

She remembered her dream. 

But these hands weren’t rough, weren’t hard on her skin. 

She thought she’d panic, but she didn’t feel trapped. The hands were large, warm, but they supported her. They didn’t drag her down, but eased her, turning her gently. She recognized his voice. 

“You’re okay, you’re safe. Take it easy.”

She could see his blurry face swim in her vision as she felt her body eased back to the cave floor. His eyes–beautiful eyes–looked so concerned, so relieved. It was a balm on her frenzied thoughts, a reprieve to the terror. 

It’s what you deserve.

The words were heavy and acidic, but they also felt hollow and far away as they were drowned out by “Just breathe, I’ve got you.”

She relaxed into her bedroll on the cave floor, her eyes still feeling swollen and her emotions raw. 

“You’re okay, Nesta. All healed.”

She tried to nod, his voice reassuring in the near dark.

I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.

She pulled at her wrists, and though they moved strangely, distantly, she could tell that they weren’t chained. She could feel the light linen of her top and not the stifling, tight lace of a dress and corset. 

Safe. 

She sighed. 

Cassian was quiet for a moment while she came back into her body before he asked, “Why didn’t you take the char root?” There was no accusation left in his voice, just genuine concern. 

She tried to open her mouth to speak, but it felt filled with ash and dirt. She cleared her throat and tried again, only to feel him pressing the mouth of the water skin to her lips. She drank, and it tasted better than anything she could remember. 

When she’d had her fill, she tried again. “It made me hallucinate before. I was unconscious for hours.”

“And you were scared.” It wasn’t a question.

“How long was it?”

“About ten hours.”

Ten hours. He’d sat with her for ten hours. 

“It’s healed?”

“You’ll have a nasty scar, but it’s healed.” He spoke the words tightly. There was no levity in his voice. “You didn’t trust me.” 

A statement. A fact. She tried to ignore what was plainly hurt in his voice, and she also ignored the way it made her feel empty in her chest, horrid. 

She didn’t answer for a while, her dream fresh in her mind. “You’re a stranger.”

He wasted no time in response. “I would never hurt you.”

She fought the urge to scoff, refusing to look at him. “You’re a man.”

“No, I'm a male.”

“What’s the difference?” The words were biting, but the interest was genuine, even as she faded between waking and dreaming.

“I am not mortal. We do not function the same ways as human men, and so we don’t call ourselves men.” He answered the question as though it were simple information everyone knew. She didn’t see the difference. All men, and likely all males, were the same. 

“Do males not feel entitled to take?” She shot the question with barbs, her hurt more evident that she wanted it to be, but it was out before she could stop it. 

Still, Cassian's words were soft when he answered. “Some might, but I do not. I would not.”

She didn’t expect the boundless bubble of emotion that emerged in her throat at the response. He said it so assuredly, so matter-of-factly. In his voice, she could hear the pity, and she hated it. She knew what it meant. 

She couldn’t respond, just shut her eyes, the exhaustion so bone deep that she thought she might actually cry. 

I would not.

After silence that stretched so long she worried he’d left, he spoke quietly but firmly. “You can trust me, you know.”

I know , she wanted to say–the reaction immediate. Against her better judgement, she did know it. Some deep layer of her felt it.

She wanted to believe it. She wanted it to be true.

Instead, she let her breaths even out. 

She wouldn’t acknowledge it aloud, wouldn’t tell him. Couldn’t tell him. But she would try to believe him, allowing herself the privilege of safety to drift back into a dreamless sleep.

[variousqueerthings]

read those last four pages of the earlier draft of the due south ending and wild how much it aligns with my overall predictions of how the show was going to end, so clearly i was seeing what some of those earlier intentions were (and it makes me wonder why they changed it)

to be honest, it could've pretty much ended that way with very few other changes -- the major two being meg saying she wouldn't move north, although she could still say that and be seen in a cushy office. it's the discomfort of fraser's general lifestyle/being a wild man of nature that she doesn't necessarily want, not canada itself, she canonically misses ottawa. and the other one perhaps being ray's and stella's relationship, but that could still be a thing that's dangled without needing to put too much of a line beneath what it may or may not become post-credits

it's really just the epilogue -- which felt oddly tacked-on to me -- that changes the ending, and im coming at that with a mix of "well, since most of it is making jokes about the characters i can ignore it" and "ray vecchio and stella elope and divorce almost immediately (due to ray's post-undercover ptsd)"

beyond that i wasn't totally sold on ray kowalski going up north at the end -- at least not for the longhaul, although i really do quite like the openness of him and fraser going to look for franklin's hand, so that wasn't the bit of the epilogue i was really scratching my head over, although, there are things about it that suggest that it's not the place either of them really need to be/would choose to be for too long moving forwards (also lol, ray you're wearing a thin coat and you hated most of your journey in canada so far, sir your rose-tinted glasses are blowing right off your face with the first blizzard -- but that's a part of him, he's not a hugely practical guy outside of the things he Knows How To Do, that is, he'll wear a thin coat in northern canada and eat smarties for breakfast and forget to clean his apartment and stalk his ex-wife but not out of malice and she doesn't feel threatened by it and he'll get himself beaten up in a boxing match he shouldn't be in and he'll smack computers, etc)

im still musing on how i read rayk's character, but a Big Big thing that is explored in canon is that he's someone who needs someone to tell him who to be, and that used to be stella until she correctly identified the amount of emotional labour that was being required by her vis a vis his various unexamined issues (and i believe she probably started at least some of the arguments, but at its core this is a solid lady and an unsolid man, it's easy to see where the issue lay), and now it's fraser, and all the while ray is asking, with some self-awareness: when he's not around other people (a single other person) telling him who to be, who is he? and we never do find out and nor does he, which is interesting -- it makes the franklin's hand ending quite melancholy to me, that alongside how it pertains to fraser himself

it suggests that him leaving with fraser is more about needing fraser as a crutch (like he needed stella). i was thinking there'd be some openness to the ending (people aren't at their final destination just because the story has ended), but ray doesn't need a yes-man like fraser (who sucks at boundaries), he needs... well ray vecchio, i think. and ray vecchio needs him, because of their very unique shared experience. there's an implicit understanding between them that's obvious in just the short amount of time they're together in the finale and that's really one of the main interesting things i want to think about/explore more moving forwards

the other thing that i'm circling back to in terms of the ending, is that fraser started the story very much alone, sans diefenbaker (whom one can say many things about in terms of what he represents -- friend, brother, same soul, metaphor, spirit). he ends the story with a community -- ray'n'ray, meg, maggie, turnbull to an extent, the whole precinct really, arguably parts of chicago itself, and i think that original ending makes that much clearer

the end of the story onscreen had a melancholy to it, as i said -- the epilogue puts both ray vecchio and meg far away (for no real reason that i could gather/sorta out of character for them both), effectively splitting up the community that had formed around fraser, and the northwest passage isn't the happiest of songs to end on. its story is that of a journey that is futile and circular, that to go out there is to ultimately try and find a way back home. so there's a lot of ambiguity to the onscreen ending that i am enjoying reading along the lines of how that community can come back together again afterwards, whilst still allowing fraser to fundamentally be who he is, which is wild and fairytale-like and other

the expression on his face when he first returns to the snow and the wild -- that fraser balanced with people anchoring him and telling him that whenever he wishes, they will be there for him (whilst knowing that there is, fundamentally, something about him that is of the wild and therefore untameable and also shouldn't be tamed, because then he wouldn't be fraser)

i think the main things im interested in right now are: 1. the rayk and rayv dynamic in a million different ways 2. exploring meg and maggie (apart, but also together in the same space in some way or other) 3. fraser and the balance of his two selves (the part that is always called by the wild and the part that has People whom he cares about, who are His People, not just people as an ideal) 4. also fraser and how he feels post-knowing-all-of-that-about-his-past-now-and-aftershocks-thereof 5. rayv and vegas and the aftermath of that, and including stella in that because the finale puts her in an interesting place to develop alongside both the rays 6. rayk and trying to find out who he is, because this too has been my big [?] whilst watching him. who are you sir? what do you want? (you want to know who you are, that's what you want. you want to feel real in your own skin. i want to explore what that journey looks like for him) 7. permutations of ray'n'ray and fraser either staying in or leaving law enforcement -- am fascinated by the fact that this is played with across both versions, so clearly it was a questionmark for the writing as well (my favourite idea of post-canon this is ray'n'ray open up a detective agency in some way or other)

so yeah. questions about the onscreen epilogue. what prompted it and when did it change, but im pretty chill about it, im just scooting it mildly to the left to bring all the characters back into frame a little more so i can ask the questions i want to ask of them

[abiiors]

haunt // bed - pt. 1

a/n: a while ago, i wrote do me a favour after which i said, i would write a matty hate sex fic. well this is it (and perhaps a bit more than anyone asked for), read dmaf again if you want to refresh your memory, or don't. there are 3 parts to this + an epilogue. i also know very little about western weddings, so ignore the inconsistencies lol.

a note about the banner: the photo in it is only meant to describe the dress, not the race, body type, hair colour, etc of the reader <3

minors dni! part 2, part 3

wc: 2.7k

see u in an hour xx

charli’s text flashes on your screen, illuminating a small corner of the dimly lit room. it’s not that late in the day, in fact, it’s quite early—only about 10 am. you’re supposed to be hurrying around the room, checking for any last minutes things you might have forgotten. you won’t be back home until tomorrow after all. yet here you are, surrounded by the things that should have been packed in your bag last night. 

the dress, laid out on your bed, feels like a weapon; red silk slippery enough to slide between your fingers effortlessly. “a wily vixen”, that’s what charli had called you when she'd seen you in it for the first. the thought of that day—bridesmaids dress shopping with four other excited girls—brings a small smile to your face. 

everything laid out here is a weapon really; your four-inch, sharp heels, the delicate and dainty diamond jewellery, the makeup you plan on wearing—blood red lipstick, a perfect shade match for the dress. an expensive crystal bottle of the same perfume you have used for the past six years. 

familiarity breeds contempt. familiarity is also an excellent knife to twist in someone’s gut. because everything here, today, is meant to maul and wound him.

see you in an hour babe, love you. you write back and chuck your phone onto the pillow where it bounces a little before nestling between its creases. you stare at it, maybe your body still yearns for a call that will never come? no more can’t wait to see you up there. no more cheeky selfies in a state of half-undress. just a smooth, black screen.

right then…time to get going. 

charli has been flittering around the room for the last twenty minutes. her white dress fits her like a dream, her makeup is a work of art and her excitement about marrying george is so palpable in the room that at least one person squeals or sighs every five minutes. 

most importantly, the smile on her face is a permanent fixture. and every time you look at it, a warmth spreads through your body. she deserves this—the happiness, the celebration. the happily ever after. no matter how your marriage ended, you won’t stop believing in it for her. 

“so!” charli walks over to you and takes your hand, “how do i look?” she twirls and the dress swirls around her, the tiny crystals catching light and making her shimmer like starlight.

you laugh in response, “like george is about to go into cardiac arrest the minute he sees you!”

the pair of you giggles like teenagers. you can so clearly picture it before it has even happened. the joy and love that will shine on george’s face; his excitement, quiet yet infectious and for a brief moment you’re transported back to your own walk down the aisle. 

small, unsure steps, worried about falling flat on your face in those tall heels, but all of that had evaporated the second you had seen his tear-stained face. and the bright smile that had bloomed a split second later. 

but that’s how long the ache lasts; a brief moment. it’s bad enough that you’re going to have to be civil to him, there’s no need to make it worse with unnecessary nostalgia. 

besides, there’s her to think about. 

she in question is a beautiful, leggy blonde who is at least seven years younger than him. not that you’ve seen either of them today…yet. it’s only because you and charli got drunk one night, four weeks before the wedding, and she felt bad about keeping it from you that matty had a plus one. and that’s how you fell into the rabbit hole of scrolling through this girl’s Instagram profile at two in the morning. 

if you thought you knew his type, you would be dead wrong. physically speaking, she is the exact opposite of you—someone who looks like they belong on a giant billboard in times square, perfect and stunning. then there’s the more questionable aspects of her feed. the flat tummy tea adverts and the paid partnerships with various brands that are always under fire for being unethical.

but that’s the ugly green monster rearing its head. it’s not like you aren’t known for indulging in vanity every once in a while. 

she will be here today, no doubt, clinging onto his arm like a decorative little thing—woah, where did that snide thought come from?! you shake your head to yourself, at least a little embarrassed. he’s not even here yet and he’s already screwing with your head; pushing you back into old jealous and insecure habits. someone clears their throat. 

nora, one of charli’s longtime friends, has her champagne glass raised. a toast. she takes a deep, shaky breath and smiles tearily at the room, about to give her sentimental speech when a resounding knock echoes and cuts her off before she has even begun. 

five heads turn to the locked door and you happen to be standing closest to it. 

‘i’ll get it,’ you tell no one in particular, hand already on the doorknob. the possibility of it hits you way too late. 

it hits you right as his clean-shaven face comes into view. 

it has been ten months. ten months since you gave up the last name healy and changed it back to your maiden name on all your official documents. it had felt like a form of catharsis, getting it done with such urgency back then. but you also remember the days when you would be asked to state your full name and stagger a little at how odd it sounded to no longer have healy in it. to not have a ring around your finger to fidget with. no one to hold you at night. 

but back to now. back to here. 

it’s not hard to see that he has changed a lot in the last ten months. he looks serious; not necessarily sombre—it’s his best friend’s wedding, after all—but mature, more grown up. the grey in his hair, in his beautiful curls, is now much more prominent. the crow's feet around his eyes are more or less the same (and it sends a small pang through you; has he not laughed recently?). his mouth holds—held—a faint smile that’s already slipping, already morphing into a thin line. the exact same face that you woke up to for years now turning into a mask of carefully arranged neutrality.

“charli,” he whispers roughly and then clears his throat, “here to check on charli.” and just like that, he steps past you and into the room where he’s engulfed into a hug by the bride (and slapped on the bum by another bridesmaid but you ignore that for now).

pointedly, you also ignore the sting that comes with being sidestepped so easily. 

you stand by the door, back still to the room, for a second longer than necessary. it doesn’t even register that you’re letting the warm spring air in. is this really how little seeing you impacts him? it must have. because if he’s here then she is also here. 

“tell him i’m fine!” charli’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, making you shut the door softly. “and tell him not to meddle, i’ve got my girls.” she looks at you over his shoulder and throws a wink. your gut tells you it’s nothing but a charity gesture, just trying to gauge the tension between you two. guilt gnaws at you—she shouldn’t have to play peacemaker, she shouldn’t have to worry about two adults behaving themselves. 

“only doing my duty here,” matty raises his hands defensively, “keeping the groom happy.” 

the rest of them tease and taunt him playfully while you take the time to admire—no, simply look at—his suit. it’s nowhere near as nice as the one he wore at your wedding, of course not. but it’s beautifully made, tailored to fit and accentuate his muscles. and there are a lot of those now, that much is evident from the way his sleeves stretch over his biceps. he fills it out nicely, not that he didn’t before, but something about the fabric straining across his arms does funny things to your stomach. funny, you thought that feeling was a thing of the past. then there’s the navy trousers that compliment his backside rather nicely. 

there’s a part of you that is appalled at all these observations you have been making but there’s another part—bored and much more matter-of-fact—that reminds you that there’s nothing under those clothes that you haven’t seen, touched, licked or sucked before. there’s nothing new. he is still the same as he was before, just now with a few extra muscles. 

“go away,” charli’s nudges him gently toward the door. “we’ll be out in fifteen.”

he hugs her just before he leaves, dropping a friendly kiss on her head. after everything you’re glad no one had to pick sides in the divorce. you’ve at least managed to hold the friend group together, even though the same can’t be said about your marriage. 

matty leaves just like he came in, sidestepping you and making sure he’s looking straight ahead. there’s a brief second however—a fraction of one really—when he slows down and breathes in. his adam’s apple bobs roughly and his face struggles to hold the blank expression. 

but it must have just been you projecting right? no one can go through that much in half a second. 

“there you are, darling,” denise walks in on you mid-smoke. “i was looking for you.”

she’s in a beautiful pink dress that brushes her knees and makes her look ten years younger than she is. you blush slightly at having been caught smoking; it’s a recent habit, not one she would be aware of, and you don’t want her to judge you for it. 

“denise,” you try to hide the half-smoked cigarette, “you look beautiful.”

she pointedly looks at your hand and laughs. “my son does enough of that.” then she straightens up, as if bringing matty so casually into this conversation was a mistake. you suppose it was—it does make your heart skip a beat. 

“i just wanted to say hi, darling,” she adds hastily, “and look at you…” her eyes scan you from head to toe, linger on your face for just a second before she smiles again. “simply stunning.”

“thank you.” your voice comes out in a whisper, fighting to get past the lump in your throat. you didn’t think there would ever come a day when she would have to so formally stop by to ‘say hi’. yet here you are, almost a pair of estranged mother and daughter. 

“i don’t…” she starts but shakes her head minutely, “i don’t want to condescend you. but are you okay? with matty bringing that girl, i mean.”

that piques your interest. “that girl?” you stifle a little giggle. “sounds like you don’t like her…”

denise shrugs, leaning against the wall and looking at the bushes in front of her. “she’s okay, i guess.” then she takes a bit to smooth out her dress. “but she’s not you.”

“dearly beloved…” the officiant, charli’s godfather, begins, which you tune out instantly. weddings are lovely and romantic, wedding speeches are dull and boring. besides, like it or not, something else has captured your attention. 

you stand behind the bride, holding the ring she’s supposed to put on george later. and right in front of you stands matty, holding the matching platinum band in his hands. adam and ross stand behind him, smiling and occasionally laughing along with the rest of the guests. you tried it at first too, to only keep your attention on george—who looks very handsome and beams wide the whole time—but it’s impossible when you feel your ex’s piercing stare right on you. 

you would have thought he would stick to the little ignoring act from before. instead, his eyes have lingered on you from the second you walked down the aisle as a part of the processional. tracking your every move, every small step. frankly, it’s insulting. does he think you would ruin the wedding as some sort of diabolical revenge against him? you scoff internally; of course, he would think such self-centred thoughts, it’s just all about him, after all.

you raise an eyebrow at him. what’s your fucking problem?

he smiles back; an arrogant curl of his mouth that turns his face from sweet to insufferable within a matter of seconds. you, his eyes seem to say, you’re my problem. 

well too fucking bad then…

you huff and look away to the side at the guests. it’s only about fifty people from both sides. just family and friends—a lovely kind of intimacy the couple had asked for. you smile at george’s parents who sit in the first row. his mum dabs at her eyes, clearly overwhelmed with emotion. and behind them sit denise and tim. right next to her. 

she’s exactly what she looks like on her instagram page. dainty and beautiful, picture-perfect elegant. her whole face looks like it could be hand-crafted by the gods (or very expensive surgeons according to the snide little voice in your brain) but her eyes are bone dry. 

that’s because she doesn’t belong here, your brain chimes in. not among your friends and your family. 

well, ex-family…

her name doesn’t immediately come to the forefront of your mind. all you know from that drunken night is how charli made you block all her socials at the end of it. as if you were going to go back to them again and again. as if you have no purpose in life other than obsessing over your ex’s new girl. 

she sighs, then looks out the window with a bored expression on her face and you have to focus your attention back to the bride and groom before you do something drastic. not before you catch matty looking at you from the corner of your eye, however. 

not just at you…he’s staring at the plunging neckline of your dress that shows off your cleavage wonderfully. with the big window to your side, it’s so clear to see every little detail of his face—his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip (he’s unaware that he’s doing it. you know that for a fact). his pupils that are blown out wide, making almost the entirety of his eyes look black; dark and hungry. 

your mouth curls into a smirk, arrogant enough to mirror his own. well, this is interesting. 

matty’s mouth presses into a thin line. even now, after you caught him so red-handed, he’s trying to deny it. but you don’t miss his ears turning the telltale shade of pink. 

“...and i promise to love you for the rest of my life.” george’s voice breaks on the last word, the tears flowing freely but he smiles through all of it. in front of you, charli’s shoulders shake. they haven’t even put the rings on each other yet and they’re already emotional. it makes you laugh, and surprising, you feel the tears escaping your eyes.

i promise to love you for the rest of my life. that’s what matty had said too. i promise to dance in the kitchen with you and do all my silly little romantic gestures. i promise to never let you fall. i promise, i promise, i promise…

so many of them unkept, so many of them just pretty words spoken on a perfect day in front of a tearful audience. 

“i do!” charli squeals before the question is even finished, making everyone laugh. a wet chuckle escapes you at her infectious joy. 

“do you, george, take charli to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the officiant asks. 

“i do,” he says patiently and charli sticks her tongue out at him. 

you sincerely hope they stay like this for the rest of their lives—polar opposites who complete each other. not people who are so similar, they don’t know how to exist in the same space anymore. 

matty smiles, first at the couple and then, shockingly, at you. husband and wife he mouths. 

jarringly still, you smile back. 

i would love to hear what you think 🤭

[starlight-eclipsed]

Honestly if the chain saw most of legato's clothes

I genuinely hope they didn’t have to endure either the cheetah or cheerleader outfit

Because those two are their own category of questionable

The frost bite tunic,voe tunic (totk) kind of weird in fact

Like it looks like it would not do a good job protecting legato from injuries

When it really is just a cat girl outfit and a very short two piece with Pom Poms

Like that looks like drag and on one hand good for him for having the courage to wear it (most likely at a publicly viewed event at that… cheerleader is hilarious in the drabland because you can cheer people on with a fun animation but is more of a meme in the arena because it has low damage output…like how cursed thighs outfit mains sometimes appear for fun when it is the most ridiculous outfit next to bear minimum)

But also the chain probably would freak out if legato showed up in either of the three outfits in any kind of arena lol

First thing he has basically no armor in a gladiator ring of all places

Second they think he just a lil guy who is already in a bad spot with a horrible childhood (yeah the childhood part kinda true though ) being exploited for entertainment

And then also the fact that the whole stadium probably is having a blast over the eccentrics and depending on how much the announcer plays with the fact that a joke battle is happening

Yeah the chain is probably going to combust with rage while legato is trying to tell them to chill out and that putting on a good performance in a joke battle can be good publicity even when you lose most times (completely ignoring the fact that they don’t want him to have that kind of publicity or any kind of publicity and are probably just barely restraining themselves from burning the entire kingdom down over it)

Would be even worse if legato by that point realized that it probably looks horrible with the context of them thinking he is a lil guy then tells them technically he is an adult since the moment he entered the drab lands (accidentally not realizing just how vague he was lol)

While time has flashbacks of the time when termina considered him an adult for having a sword and completely hates the implications

Because by that point even if legato tried to mention that it was obvious legal and he was an adult

The chain probably would have taken it the wrong way regardless

He is just eternally a lil guy and it already happened to be a bit too long for him to reveal he is an adult

Oh, I absolutely left those out for a reason. There is no context I could put them in that isn't creepy for the child that Legato appears as, so while I personally adore the cheerleader outfit and appreciate the speed buff with the cheetah...Legato is smart enough to know what would've happened if the Chain saw those outfits. If Warriors freaked out about the Showstopper, those other outfits were a no-go. He'd rather avoid starting a second witch hunt thank you very much.

(Granted, the undersuit that comes with his epilogue outfit puts those options back on the table, somewhat. It'll probably be fine so long as nobody thinks about it too much.)

[chthonicarcher]

Hello!! I've been a fan of your art and writing for a while now, and I wanted you to know your works a big inspiration and comfort to me!! Anywho, thoughts on Davebot and Commander Vantas :]

first of all, wow, thank you so much!! that’s so kind <3

mkay so...

the thing is,

sigh. so. okay.

okay listen—

OKAY THE FIRST THING I GOTTA SAY, and I mean this ought to go *without* saying but I’m still just going to say it: this is all JUST MY OPINION!! it’s subjective, I’m not saying other people are wrong just bc we may happen to disagree about this!

TO BE HONEST WITH YOU, though, I only really engage with “beyond canon” or “dubious canon” or “post-canon” content in the way I’m doing right here, which is to say, drawing silly requests to dress up CKat as Hatsune Miku or whatever. or sometimes drawing something featuring meat or candy DaveKat specifically for my dear friend bug, who loves the epilogues and HS2, and still has a lot of hope for a happy DaveKat ending in *both* timelines. (love you bug, love your optimism, and I hope for your sake that HS2 doesn’t disappoint!)

because **MY** opinion of all that is that it sucks and shouldn’t exist, lol. sorry!! I hate its very existence! I ignore it and I mostly avoid it because it upsets me deeply, and I only engage (very shallowly) with the elements I can fully get behind, which usually means “cool outfits” or “cool designs.” Davebot looks real cool, man! that’s about all I can say about him without wanting to vomit!! his very existence makes me sad as fuck and I hate it, idk what else to tell you. I hate that even though that story goes out of its way to point out how non-canon it is, just by nature of being an officially sanctioned product it kinda IS canon, and the fans sure treat it that way, and I’m not even saying they’re wrong. if Hussie wanted the epilogues to actually be treated like fanfic maybe they shouldn’t’ve attached their name, man, idk.

anyway, I know drawing CKat and Davebot as just silly little guys without actually fully engaging with/reading post-canon sorta makes me part of “the problem,” like those “fans” of Homestuck who don’t understand it at all bc they HAVEN’T READ IT yet insist on making art about it that misunderstands the characters? but tbh I just don’t like or respect post-canon stuff in the same way I like and respect the original work. to me it is fanfic, and not even like a good one that I would bookmark or download a PDF of, lol. sorry if this disappoints you! I still think the designs are cool ✌️

[emblemxeno]

This might just be me being petty

I saw a take about how Ingrid's racism should've been handled better so that Ingrid's character could be done justice and I'm like, you want to talk racism because the white girl deserves better???

Maybe I'm just splitting hairs here, but like....

Something feels off here

LMAOOOO yeah that's kind of crazy lol

Edit: This turned into a rant I wasn't expecting I'm really sorry

And, here's the thing, I like Ingrid--just for everything that's not involving Duscur.

I think what gets me about that case, and every case of the racism and xenophobia in 3H's narrative, is that it's treated as so utterly secondary in both the macro and micro sense.

Ingrid's hatred towards the Duscur people is in one support chain, in her dislikes, and one monastery line that's not even available if you pick the Eagles or Deer.

The hatred and ignorance towards the people of Brigid is only really displayed in subtext besides Petra's support with Hubert iirc. Dagda? Can't recall any meaningful discussion on that part that isn't just the Imperial war with them and Shamir being Shamir. Sreng? Barely a footnote in 3H, and I remember Hopes handling them badly too.

And Almyra? Biggest waste of time in the grand scheme, with its story relevant conflict settled off screen and the grander friction settled in an epilogue. And the only representation of that nation is a prince who has to hide his ancestry, and a former slave who had to be rescued that everyone in the fandom hates basically (if you think about it long enough) because he's a child.

The cherry on top is how pretty much any valuable social commentary is undercut by the game putting so much value on Crests in its story, to the point that it reads as lacking in self awareness.

Racism and xenophobia? Secondary, compared to the "obviously" more important topic of how Crests have affected rich kids.

Government and Religion being involved with one another? Questioned, but given less priority than lore dumps and sympathizing with imperialists.

Crest Breeding? It would be a fantasic read on societal misogyny and keeping women oppressed since they're basically sold by their families, but no, it's about Crests because the game said so and also men like Sylvain and Hanneman are miffed about it too (ignore how Sylvain is a "women are whores only after my money" type of douchebag and Hanneman's backstory makes no fucking logical sense because he could've easily just been the one to sleep with tons of women to make Crests instead of his sister fucking DYING FROM HEART FAILURE AFTER GIVING BIRTH TOO OFTEN).

Even the idea that should be aligned with the Crest narrative, that being the dynamic of societal hierarchy and power between classes, is superseded by Crests themselves.

It ignores Crestless nobles: Caspar's still a rich kid with an influential father, but he obviously has it rough cuz he's Crestless right?

It ignores poor nobles: let's not talk about how Ingrid's house and family are constantly starving and on the brink of collapse because her being married off for her Crest is the more pressing issue.

It ignores rich merchants: cuz I guess business acumen isn't an actual skill worth anything? And instead Ignatz is trying to be a knight and Raphael is gunning it as a merc, like uhhhh, no the mercantile class isn't as cut and dry as that.

It ignores successful commoners: two successful and famous songstresses and you have them whine about nobles keeping them down even though they literally made it? and both of them are desperately seeking marriage to the point of coming across pathetic? Fuck off, this is why Leonie is better commoner representation.

It ignores FOREIGN FUCKING ROYALTY and the dynamics of other countries: Petra is one of the most disrespected characters in the game, that's a forever truth IMO.

And see, I'd be fine with it if Crests were logically written to be the cause of this type of stuff. If Crests passed down more easily from mothers, it'd make more sense to have the blatant misogyny angle. If people in Fodlan more openly looked down on other countries for not having Crests, there you go, that's a connection. If there were more active barring of commoners and/or Crestless individuals rising up in the world, like a max quota of those people being allowed in the Academy by nobles who control the majority of funding for the place, that fixes it.

But all you have is missable or irrelevant. If your racism, misogyny and class warfare story elements are incomparable and incompatible to your made up magic blood? Maybe don't include it.

[otakween]

Digimon World 3 - Final Thoughts

I've beaten the third Digimon World woohoo!! It was a brisk 40 hours, the perfect JRPG length. Overall, it was way better than Digimon World 2, but maybe not better than 1?? I dunno. It was definitely more enjoyable than 1 gameplay-wise, but if I look at it big picture it was way more generic and less memorable. Defeating the first Digimon World felt like more of a triumph and beating 3 felt kinda hollow (because it was easy and anticlimactic).

Despite any gripes I have, I could see myself replaying this. I'm especially interested in a potential revisit (like 10 years from now lol) because I found out that the PAL version of the game (Digimon World 2003) is the true, complete version of the game. Whoops...

So uh...Lord Megadeath and Snatchmon huh...great naming sense guys, good job.

Confession: I straight-up ignored all of the side quests in this game. Skipped all of the card battles, never got the fishing pole, etc. In the end, I don't really regret it because those card battles were kind of pointless anyway.

Confession part 2: I WAS planning on getting back to the side quests in the post-game until I realized that there is no post-game in this game. This is one of those games where you beat the final boss and they kick you back to the start screen with no opportunity to save. I hate it when games do that TT__TT now there's now proof that I beat it!

That ending was kinda lame. I liked the final battle with all of the epic FMVs, but the epilogue with the kids was literally so boring. They did not make me care about any of these characters in the slightest.

Speaking of FMVs, this game had so many!! The FMVs combined with the awesome pixel art definitely made this game great. It was a little lame how half of the world was just the same environments but palette swapped, but eh...whatever. There was enough variation to keep me excited.

Travel in this game was BULLSHIT. I said in one of my previous posts "fast travel will probably come soon!" NOPE, never came. The worst was when you beat a boss and then they made you back track throughout the whole dungeon for no reason. Thank God I played this on an emulator because an unexpected death would have set me back AGES. Very often it would take me an hour in REAL TIME to get to the next place I needed to be. Entire game sessions were just me walking across the map. If it wasn't for this mechanic, the game would have been like 10 hours long lol. Definitely artificial padding.

I noticed a couple of digimon here and there that I had never seen before. I think this game had a great variety in its wild encounters, although it was kind of weird to battle so many ultimates and whoop their butts so easily.

Speaking of easy...I think this game was maybe too easy or at least too exploitable. Health items were dirt cheap so it was super simple to stock up on 99 of each at all times, the counter crest allowed me to deal massive damage beyond my digimon's levels. The final boss fight with Galacticmon was just a game of letting my digimon attack until they died, resurrecting them with a healing item, and repeating that cycle until the battle was finished. The resurrection item brings back all digimon in your party with their full health which is pretty OP. By the 2nd half of the game this strategy became unbeatable and battles became kind of stale.

SO many random battles, like an obnoxious amount. I would leave one random battle, take a single step and another one would be triggered. I listened to a lot of podcasts slogging through this.

One of the weakest parts of this game was the plot/writing, but that was also weak in Digimon World 1 & 2. At least the translation seemed pretty decent this time around. I guess the "stuck in the game world" cliche was kinda fun.

The other thing I ignored in this game was the bonus digimon you can pickup along the way. I did end up getting two of them, but I never used them. They start at level 1 and ain't nobody got time to level up digimon from level 1 halfway through the game. Also, I wasn't super interested in using Guilmon when my Renamon already had MegaloGrowmon in their digivolve roster. I kind of wish this game allowed you to catch the wild digimon because you could create some really crazy parties.

My "main digimon" that I ended up using the most was Kotemon in their Kyukimon form. This was unfortunate because I think Kyukimon is butt ugly, but oh well lol.

The blasted mechanic in battles was really great and I hope they bring it back in future games! It allows you a second chance when you're in a pinch and just feels epic. I rarely used the digivolve option in battles, so it was nice getting a "free" digivolve every now and then.

I could go on and on about this game apparently, but I'm gonna wrap it up here. I have many many more games to get through before I start the next season of the anime. Onwards!

I give Digimon World 3 a solid 6.5 out of 10

[biohazard2017]

feel free to ignore but I'm actually interested in the transfem naoto headcanon if you wanna share your thoughts on it. it sounds like it would make the storyline a lot more sweet if Naoto struggled with wanting to be a girl but scared of the consequences and being immediately accepted by their new friends like Rise. In a transfem way rather than a strangely terfy way. lol

hi this is very sweet thank you anon. sorry you have unleashed the beast

transfem naoto really speaks to me specifically bc to me, it manages to ACTUALLY tie together the intended theme of her storyline with the trans coding. like, no hate to transmasc naoto enjoyers, but ive alw felt ppl were way too quick to 1. ignore the actual story (bc i do think its genuinely compelling!!! just tied down by the baggage of how they coded it. will elaborate later on!) 2. assume naoto would ""prefer"" to be a guy instead of a girl despite canon evidence to the contrary (though ofc as a hc, canon isnt really the priority) and 3. Genuinely. people wanting her and kanji to get together while kanji is gay (which is a WHOLE other can of worms, bc i may be the only person alive who enjoys kanjis storyline and wouldnt change it at ALL on his end like im of the camp that kanjis sexuality was not the point, its all about masculinity and taking all of that to just say kanjis gay does detract from the whole point of the story. though i digress).

naotos canon storyline is all about how she feels that as a girl, and later on as she accepts the crux of it (how the story portrays it) as a teenager, she would never get recognition for her work, so she chooses to present as a guy to work past the misogyny of her field and ignore the reality that she really is still a child and thats ok. she starts to become more comfortable presenting as a girl publicly obviously as it progresses through to the epilogue - and this is explained by how she "realises" that atp in her career, its not even her gender that will restrict her, its her age, so she doesnt feel the need to hide a separate part of herself just for something she'll eventually outgrow.

and i like this! i think its pretty nuanced in how people will blame one part of themselves for something else they cant control, and watching naoto become more confident in her femininity is a very sweet parallel to kanji growing into masculinity on his own terms, since the 2 are supposed to be foils anyway

like i said, having naoto be transmasc, on some level to me, feels like a step back. shes clearly immersed herself in being the Ideal Guy Detective, bc she thinks its the only way she'll be recognised for her efforts. so just by comparing the narrative of

> "naoto being ftm, so the idea of hiding himself and not accepting who he is is only really relevant to the age part, thus removing the impact of his gender on the story since he publicly transitioned at a young enough age no one even knew he was afab" vs

> "naoto being mtf, feeling afraid / hesitant to transition for fear of the backlash of being a transfem detective, compounded with her young age already affecting how she's perceived, and then accepting with the support of her friends who she is and making that step" like. im sorry but!! which is more compelling!!! (also please lmk if im not being very fair to the transmasc naoto hc, bc this is just how i see it and i may be missing something that makes it a little bit more compelling)

and yes, like you mentioned, in general i think it really supports her interactions in the group! the story feels much better thinking of it as everyone immediately affirming her femininity and helping her bridge the confidence gap. honestly it also helps that this way means the story doesnt constantly misgender her after her dungeon, as opposed to a different gender hc HAHA

so yes this is my thesis on transfem naoto ❤️ love and light ❤️