#like consider this a conversation rather than a debate

[linkspooky]

To add to my previous post, I think a lot of the current debates raging in the My Hero Academia fandom on whether My Hero Academia has failed because at the end of the story there probably won’t be major changes to the society it takes place in are kind of silly. You see to remove any political message MHA is trying to send out of the equation. I think the big problem with MHA  is much simpler than anyone wants to admit. 

The biggest problem is that... it’s boring. 

It’s boring the same way Marvel Movies are boring. It’s swapped out what are potentially interesting and layered hero characters, for what are essentially characters with costumes and superhero powers and not much else going on for them. Enji and Hawks are the only heroes that have character flaws, and they are largely stagnant characters, Aizawa is introduced to us as a ruthless pragmatist and trickster mentor and he’s now just a generic “I love all my kids” mentor and the only thing he really has done in a hundred chapters is use his power. I don’t think this is a controversial opinion either, a lot of people didn’t like the deku alone arc, a lot of people think the current war arc is less satisfying to read than the previous one and it’s not well paced and it drags. 

You could say the kid heroes are interesting characters with potential for growth, but have you noticed the kid heroes have been consistently sidelined for the adult heroes who are shallower, just because they have stronger more flashy powers. Heck, Enji gets more screentime in the Todoroki family arc than Shoto does and Shoto is supposed to be a main character. I think the hero kids just not getting plot importance they used to get and being sidelined because they’re not as powerful as the adults is not even an MHA exclusive problem, it’s the reason I don’t like the Young Justie Cartoon, it’s a pretty common flaw in adolescent superhero stories. Because why focus on the kids when the adults get all the cool fights against the bigger bads? 

I think the reason people sympathize with the villains so much is not because they find them to have better politics, that’s probably a ex-posto facto applied reasoning (though I think that’s part of it). (Also if people are invested in the story in MHA because of the political issues it expressed, and they are disappointed because we’re not focusing on that, that’s a valid response too because Horikoshi is the one who set these ideas up as themes and then failed t follow through). (Or even if someone wants to critcize the way Hori dragged race as a metaphor into the story, they’re free to be displeased with how HOri handled it but also can still be invested in the story as a whole.) I don’t think the villains are sympathetic because they’re societal reformers, I think they’re just interesting because they have severe personality flaws and character arcs. Enji is the same character from the pro-hero work onward, the exact same character, he even does the exact same action his only true action to atone is to just defeat a big bad in AFO the same way he roasted the Noumu alive. You can’t say Shigaraki is the same character he was at the beginning of his arc, nor Himiko Toga, nor Dabi, nor Spinner, not even Twice and he has a tragic arc. Negative character development is still development, a stagnant character is dull a dynamic character is interesting. Maybe everyone is excited that Toga, and Dabi are at extreme low points in their character arcs, because it’s a change, and it’s compelling to see the extreme emotions they represent. Like, there’s so much discourse today on whether or not the League of Villains is a healthy friend group for one another, and like they’re not, they’re codependent and heavily flawed but that’s what makes them interesting dude. 

Compare that to Class 1-A which is a much bigger group of kids where they are all unconditionally supportive of each other, and a healthy influence on one another, and because there’s very little conflict in that group bond there’s also little development. The only reason Class 1-A is in fact something people are emotoinally invested in is because of the conflict they had earlier in their arcs, Bakugo and Deku is a long running conflict based on an unhealthy friendship and fixation they have on one another, it takes a long time for Bakugo and Todoroki to interact regularly as friends, Deku had to literally beat up Todoroki to get him to accept help or even admit he needed it, Iida would have straight up killed a man without Todoroki and Deku’s interference, and even early on Uraraka felt inferior and more selfish to her friends, and Iida also drew a line that Deku shouldn’t expect unconditional support and teamwork from Iida during the tournament  because they are compettitors competing for number one. 

Conflict creates depth which creates audience engagement. 

The Teen Titans are my favorite superhero team ever, and they are a heavily dysfunctional found family. In fact Cyborg even jokes at one point that their life is a soap opera. They are constantly breaking up and getting back together, and sometimes the group’s decision to collectively either neglect or enable someone has a bad influence on their personality (the second return of trigon arc comes about because no one was paying attention to Raven, heck, Raven is kidnapped by a cult and just left there for months because Donna was a poor leader). These character conflicts are also what makes them interesting as a group dynamic, I don’t think you should break the group apart because they’re not healthy, because there’s a better story to be told in them working through their dysfunction into a healthier group bond. 

I’ve said this a thousand times but I don’t think the hero kids are bad characters, I don’t even dislike them, I want to see more of them. Literally all I talk about on this blog are the villains, but the only fanfic about MHA I’ve ever written and managed to finish, is about Bakugo, Todoroki, Momo and Uraraka and in particular the great potential I see in those characters to be interesting, 

You could write a story where society does not change as a whole, but still circumstances get better for people because the kids are deciding to help people and be kind. Bleach is all about the fact you can’t really change the whole world or save everyone. Ichigo is just trying to protect his hometown and it’s my favorite shonen manga. I also think those stories matter just as much as like revolutionary fiction, because oftentimes people can’t change the world as an individual, and yet the action of helping people still matters, and I think also for a lot of normal people they tend to be paralyzed into not taking any action to help people at all because they believe that it won’t make a difference in the grand scheme of things. 

At the most basic level we haven’t even gotten that yet. We used to have it! I really liked the Overhaul arc, and that entire arc isn’t about societal reform, it was about several people striving to save a young girl because heroes are supposed to save people. We are thoroughly in shonen battle manga punch em ups and fisticuffs. And as a shonen battle manga it’s not even that interesting because the fights suck, they’re not well choreographed, we don’t know what’s happening most of the time, they’re incredibly crowded, there’s no tension because the heroes despite supposedly being outnumbered way outpower the bad guys. We are given the promise that might happen in the future, there is set up for the fact that these kids are going to as their final act in the story save the villains and sympathize them but all we’ve gotten between then and now is a whole bunch of fighting. And once again it doesn’t come from a hatred of the kids but a genuine desire to see more of them, I want to see Shoto’s thoughts and feelings about his brother, I want to see Uraraka try to be a rescue hero and grapple with the fact villains are suffering, I want to see Deku think about what saving Shigaraki actually means. What I don’t want to see is new super powers, kids trying out their super moves, or kids helping the adults in fight. 

And once again this isn’t to criticize people who enjoy MHA or are still emotoinally invested in it. Like I’m sure I’m going to get replies to this post “Why are you even reading MHA if you’re bored by it?” 

Like... because you can engage critically with something even if you’re not entertained by it? There’s more purpose to literature and media then just whether or not ti’s personally enjoyable? I think there’s still a fascinating conversation to be had, in what works in MHA, and what does not work. I like superhero comics, and MHA is a shonen mangaka’s commentary on how they perceive western comics to be. 

But yeah, I think the biggest most fundamental failing of MHA right now is that it’s a real snooze fest. As a comic book story, it doesn’t work because the heroes aren’t fun, it doesn’t seem to have much to say about the heroes besides very generic statements of heroes good. Heroes help people. Deku good. Deku saves. Deku punches. Deku wins. 

So like can everyone collectively agree to just stop yelling at people who are emotionally invested in the villains, or even want to see them win? And like I think people should be allowed to post salt on their own blogs privately or even try to like comment on why they think certain fandom opinions are wrong, but gosh some of these posts guys they’re just like acting like a vast majority of readers are stupid. PEOPLE AREN”T STUPID! In fact I think most people are actually really good at interpreting stories because we are exposed to stories from a young age, and we think and feel in narrative, it’s just a lot of people don’t have the tools to either analyze stories or express what they find engaging. In fact if you think someone is wrong, or even think they have a vastly different take then you’re own, I think you should ask them why they think that way if you’re really interested in a conversation with them. Heck Thy and I usually agree about a lot of things, but sometimes I’ll make a pretty extreme statement, and they go “Oh, I don’t think that, or that’s wrong.” And then I just walk it back and try to explain my reasoning and then even if they’re not convinced to agree with me we just both move on. 

People root for the villains because they’re underdogs. They’re sympathetic and flawed. They are also not stagnant as characters and we spend more time in their head. People aren’t stupid for being emotionally invested in them or reading the story wrong necessarily, so much as MHA has kind of failed to properly establish stakes and tension and make things difficult for the heroes like it should be, that’s just how engagement in a story works. There’s a reason that everyone hates the Yankees, but Cubs fans can stay fans for like a hundred years without a world series victory. I’m not even trying to directly insult anyone, or say that My Hero Academia is bad fiction, or not worth reading, I just wish people would chill a little bit and stop jumping on villain stans for liking the unhealthier or darker aspects of the characters. 

Everyone’s like “I love my murderous meow meows covered in blood” and then you actually say the reason you like Shigaraki is because he’s heavily flawed, and at times a vengeful, hateful little shit and suddenly it’s a problem. Spinner’s a codependent enabler, yeah it’s called having a personality with flaws. He wouldn’t even have a character arc if he wasn’t those things, he’d just be a lizard. The thing that is deliberately written by a flaw, called out in the plot, and he gets punished for. God has punished him for his sins. Right now he’s just lying on the floor nearly brain dead. Also sometimes characters don’t have like, big, operatic flaws. Like as murderous and nasty as Dabi is there’s like a catharsis and power in the way he calls out his abusers. Sometimes people are annoying and needy. I feel like more ficitonal characters should be annoying and needy! Sometimes the most interesting characters, are characters you like would hate to be friends with in real life because they’d just be too high maintennance and put-upon. 

I mean on top of that there are also stories where characters get worse, and only experience negative character development, and there are people who become engaged in those stories because of the dark turns it takes. 

You could say that the fandom downplays the darker aspects of these characters, but like that’s what every fandom does. Heck, don’t Bakugo and Deku have an extremely unhealthy friendship for a long time, that fandom likes to downplay because they want to see them in a much healthier version of their relationship? 

It’s also pretty much harmless. Beyond being frustrated with seeing an out of character version of a character being popularized, it doesn’t really harm people in any way that matters, you don’t have to yell at people for being wrong or even go out of your way to correct them. In fact, I think people having extremely different takes from the story that you do should be celebrated more. Isn’t it interesting two people can read the exact same events and interpret them in wildly different ways? Isn’t it weird, that we all have this collective agreed upon version of like “in character” and “Out of character” and yet people tend to either deviate or stay inside that framework. People also, tend to enjoy different aspects of the story. I don’t think the heroes are interesting at all, but if someone is a diehard hero stan and they like the heroes I’m glad they are having a fun time. 

Fandom is supposed to be a conversation, and like, you shouldn’t go out of your way to correct the people you’re talking with, because it’s a much more fun conversation to ask why people think the way they do and try to understand that then to just tell them they’re wrong and end the conversation there. The reason I have this blog is not because I think I’m right and other people are wrong, I just like to talk to people about my thoughts on the comic books I’m reading, and then other people ask me why I think the things I do and I try to explain it. 

Oh and by the way I’m not talking about people who disagree with me specifically. Like, Class1akids wrote a response to one of my posts. I think they have every right to disagree with me and they were pretty professional about the way they expressed their opinion, I follow them and like their takes because they’re good at stating the reasons behind what they think. I just didn’t interact with it because I was feeling lazy that day and didn’t want to type up a big response. I’m just in general asking people to chill and be nice and have fun. 

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐈𝐭 (𝟐) !

— pairing; vil schoenheit x ramshackle! reader

— summary; vil's dad thinks you're dating, and comes down to meet you

— notes; here is part 2, part 1 is here. please donate to my kofi or consider commissioning me if you like my work bc im broke and need cash. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ It’s a bright afternoon at Night Raven College when Eric Venue arrives at Night Raven College unannounced, causing a minor frenzy among students and staff alike. They’re starstruck; after all, seeing a famous actor on campus is a rarity, and Eric is surrounded by a crowd of adoring fans as he makes his way to Pomefiore.

❋ Vil, however, is not thrilled to see him. His father’s obviously come here to snoop, and Eric’s wide grin tells Vil there’s no escaping him today.

❋ Ever the professional actor, Eric insists he’s just here for a little visit. “Can’t a father see his son and stroll around the college campus for a while?”

❋ Vil reluctantly obliges, but he’s wary. Every time they pass a group of students (many of them gawking and staring and pointing), Eric gives each and every one of them a careful once-over, as if expecting you to magically appear. Vil notices and gives his father a dirty look, but Eric just shrugs, the very picture of innocence.

❋ Despite Vil’s attempts to keep his father far far away from you, your paths do eventually cross. You run into both father and son as you’re heading down to the cafeteria for lunch, and Eric’s eyes immediately light up with recognition. He strides over before Vil can stop him, extending a hand with a charming smile. “Ah, you must be the famous Ramshackle student! I’m Eric Venue, Vil’s father. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

❋ You’ve seen exactly zero of his movies. Thanks to Ace and Deuce giving you the lowdown, all you know about this guy is that he’s some big star — Leonardo DiCaprio level, maybe? Not that anyone here would know who he is . . .

❋ Realising that Eric’s waiting for a reply, you quickly recover, shaking his hand with a slightly awkward but friendly smile. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Venue.”

❋ Eric immediately wastes no time in drawing you into a conversation, asking you about your interests, your studies, and — much to Vil’s chagrin — what you think of his son. He’s so friendly and warm, it’s almost like talking to an old friend, rather than a famous celebrity.

❋ (The shy tinge to your smile, and the way your voice softens when you talk about Vil doesn’t go unnoticed by Eric, and only serves to confirm his suspicions.)  

❋ Vil is unnaturally tense through it all, a bow string about to snap. It’s almost as though he’s debating grabbing his father and making a break for it, public image be dammed. But instead, Vil settles for hovering beside you both, looking mortified and slightly flustered when his father asks you something just a little too personal.

❋ Finally, Vil manages to pull his father aside, insisting that they should let you get to lunch (Vil makes eyes at you and you take the hint, dutifully acting as though you’re absolutely starving).

❋ Eric sees right through your little act, but lets you leave with a wave and a laugh, expressing his desire to see you again. Afterwards, Eric turns to Vil with a knowing smile, quietly whispering, “I like them,” like it’s the final stamp of approval for the relationship Vil absolutely refuses to admit he’s in.

[steddiealltheway]

Thinking about Steve who has not a single idea about how social media works, but he downloads a few things like Instagram and Twitter only to check in on the kids. Other than that, he has zero knowledge of pop culture and kind of lives in that blissful bubble. Every once in a while, the kids will get a bit exasperated with him, but he enjoys listening to them explain things - and he knows they secretly love being able to rehash all the gossip.

And honestly, being out of the loop has it’s perks. Especially when he’s on a plane to Los Angeles, California to visit the Byers while they’re there for a concert and to do some sightseeing in the meantime. He’s sat next to someone who sits by the window seat but wears a baseball cap and sunglasses, curly hair tied back in a ponytail. He seems strangely on edge - maybe suffering from a hangover or scared of flying.

Steve can’t help but tap him on the arm. When the stranger turns, he has his mouth in a flat line looking strangely done with the conversation before it’s even begun. “Sorry, I was just going to ask if you’re okay,” Steve says.

The man frowns and tilts his head. He hesitates to reply, “Yes, I’m just… a bit on edge.”

“Tell me about it. This is my first time on a plane.”

The stranger’s mouth twitches. “Is it really?”

“Yeah. What about you?” Steve asks.

“I’ve been on hundreds of planes - would rather be on the road though,” the stranger says reaching up to grab at the end of his ponytail and twirl it around his finger.

Steve smiles and replies, “I get that. I’m Steve by the way.” He holds his hand out to the stranger who eyes it wearily.

“Eddie,” he replies quietly and shakes his hand.

Steve gets distracted by the rings on his hands and finds himself asking about them. The stranger looks at him for a moment, and, even with the sunglasses on, Steve can tell Eddie is strangely taken aback. Steve is about to take it back and apologize for… mentioning the rings? But Eddie points to the first one and explains.

The rest of the plane ride goes well, amazingly well even. Steve finds himself chatting away with Eddie and throughly enjoying his company - especially when he holds his hand while the plane takes off. He especially enjoys the moment when Eddie briefly takes his sunglasses out to look at the clouds, and Steve gets to see his beautiful brown eyes.

A range of emotions pass through those eyes before Eddie puts the sunglasses back on. Steve almost asks him to keep them off - entranced by the way they express everything he’s thinking. But that can be a dangerous thing, so he doesn’t press him about it.

When the captain announces that they’re about to land, Steve is truly upset to think about not getting the chance to see Eddie again. Maybe it’s the fact that Steve has taken a risk and finally left Indiana for once or maybe Eddie’s just one of the first people he’s hit it off with in a long time, but Steve asks, “Do you want to get coffee? After we land.”

Eddie’s tongue rests on his top lip, tracing it back and forth as he considers it. He finally responds, “I would love to, but I have an appointment as soon as we land.”

Steve lets the disappointment settle in him but tries his best not to let it show. “It’s alright.”

But Eddie fidgets with his rings, tongue still resting on his top lip as he debates something. “Do you have an Instagram?” He asks.

Steve laughs bashfully. “I do, but I never use it. Well, I do sometimes just to keep track of some kids I used to babysit honestly, like Dustin who I told you about.”

Eddie’s smile turns into a full blown grin. “Of course. Well, do you mind if I get your Instagram so I can message you with when I’m free? I would give you my number but… I’m afraid of it getting out. Not that you would do that but… people listening and whatnot…” Eddie spins his rings so anxiously fast that it makes Steve nearly laugh.

“Yes, I hope I remember it correctly because I didn’t come up with it,” Steve confesses. Eddie passes him his phone with the notes app open. He types in steve.the.hair.harrington and hands the phone back.

Eddie takes it back and laughs as he reads it. “It’s fitting,” he explains and reaches out to mess with a few strands.

“I try my best,” Steve replies with a shrug, wondering how he can get Eddie to touch his hair again.

“My hair stylist would love you,” Eddie says then freezes.

Steve smiles. “You have a hair stylist?”

Eddie struggles to respond but is given an out as the plane finally lands. He’s immediately reaching out to grab Steve’s hand, and he forgets all about the question.

Eddie doesn’t let go until people start making their way off the plane, using his hand to tilt his baseball cap a little lower and tuck in on himself. It’s as if he’s trying to avoid having someone see him, but Steve doesn’t want to pry so he doesn’t ask.

Eddie follows Steve off the plane and glances around once they get to the terminal. Then, he quickly pulls him into a hug and whispers, “Thank you for a normal flight.”

Steve has no idea what he means by that, but he just squeezes him back tighter. Eddie pulls away and lingers in his arms. Steve wants more than anything to take off his sunglasses and look into his eyes again.

There’s a sound of a camera going off that has Eddie jumping away and putting his hands in his pockets. “Think we’re near someone famous?” Steve jokes.

“Oh, I know we are,” Eddie says with a small smile that makes it seem like he knows something that Steve doesn’t. Before he can ask, Eddie is saying, “I hope I’ll see you again. Goodbye, Steve.” And with that he’s rushing off, pulling his baseball cap a little lower and directing his gaze towards the ground.

He’s strange, but Steve likes him.

The rest of his day, he has a spring in his step. And by the time he gets to his hotel, he collapses on his bed with a sigh of relief. He pulls out his phone and checks for any notifications before he realizes his phone has been on airplane mode. He turns it off and waits for a message from Robin or Dustin to appear on his screen.

Instead, he’s bombarded with notification after notification - including 27 missed calls from Dustin. He calls him immediately.

The phone rings for not even a second before Dustin is answering with a scream of, “Steve Harrington, why have you not answered your phone?!”

“I’ve been sightseeing. Is everything okay?”

“Check the photos I sent you!”

Steve rushes to his messages, finding them filled with people he hasn’t heard from in years. He ignores that and goes to his pinned messages with Dustin. He clicks on the first picture he sees.

It’s a poor quality photo of him and Eddie hugging in the terminal. He swipes to find a photo of him and Eddie holding hands on the plane. Then another one of him lingering in Eddie’s arm looking… very smitten. “Dustin where did you get these?” Steve asks swiping and even coming across a video of them talking on the plane, with Steve laughing as Eddie dramatically tells some sort of tale.

“Better question, how did this even happen Steve? Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Steve is thoroughly confused. “Dustin, I just met Eddie today. But seriously, how did you get these?”

There’s a pause on the other line and a breathed out, “Oh my god.” He can hear Dustin take a deep breath before he asks, “Steve, please tell me that you know who Eddie Munson is.”

“His last name is Munson?”

There’s a muffled scream on the other line before Dustin is launching into a speech about how Eddie is one of the most famous up and coming artists right now. And yeah Corroded Coffins does sound familiar, but it doesn’t click until Dustin explains that’s who Steve and the Byers are going to see in concert.

Oh.

Steve thinks back and everything clicks - especially the number of people who were staring at him and trying to sneak photos while he was out. He scrolls to a screenshot of a Twitter post with the caption, “did anyone else know that eddie munson has a boyfriend???”

Steve’s eyes widen. “Dustin, how many people think we’re dating?”

“The entire internet so basically the whole world,” Dustin says, and Steve doesn’t have time to even process that statement before Dustin is yelling, “Oh my god!”

“What?”

“Eddie Munson just liked a photo I was tagged in! Holy shit, he’s seen my face!”

“Yeah, dude, I told him all about you on the plane,” Steve says. And boy, that probably will not help with the kid’s ego.

Steve opens his Instagram, ignoring Dustin’s little screams on the other line, and takes in the sheer number of notifications. He quickly goes to his requests in his messages and finds one from therealeddiemunson. “Hey, Dustin, what does a blue checkmark mean?”

Dustin groans on the other line asking why it was Steve who got to meet him before finally explaining it. Steve accepts the request and stares at the message hey, you still on for that coffee?

Steve clicks on Eddie’s profile and his heart thuds. He’s pretty sure people aren’t supposed to have a “K” in their follower count. He looks at the recent photos and feels himself turn a bit red. He almost has no clue how the Eddie he met on the plane and Eddie Munson are the same guy.

“Dustin, if I turned down Eddie Munson for coffee would you ever be able to forgive me?”

“Don’t you fucking dare, or I swear to god I will never let my mom bake anything for you again.”

Steve laughs and with that he goes back to the messages and sends Absolutely :)

[eldritch-nightmare]

Can you make a scenario about how the pastas would react after an argument? Like, if the reader left to get some fresh air? (I crave angst)

-💫Anon

a/n: indeed i can my friend here's a healthy amount of (very mild) angst just for you. i'm so totally gonna use this idea in a future chapter for the silly lil scenarios book as well because uh angst. maybe the prompt got away from me just a little bit i won't lie.

how do they react after an argument?

includes: jeff the killer, laughing jack, slenderman, nina the killer, eyeless jack, jane the killer, candy pop, clockwork, ticci toby, nurse ann, x virus, kagekao, jason the toymaker, the puppeteer, homicidal liu, sully, the bloody painter, the doll maker, zalgo, and hobo heart.

warnings: the aftermath of an argument, relationship disputes, some of these are healthy and some of these are not, inconsistent length.

JEFF THE KILLER would honestly be more upset if you walked out after an argument. he's already upset enough as it is, so you turning your back to him and storming out just makes his blood boil. he won't follow after you, but he'll definitely disappear for the next few days. he really isn't the best at resolving arguments, no matter how small they are. and unless he really fucks up, then he isn't going to apologize even if he is in the wrong. he's jeff the fucking killer, what the hell does he have to feel sorry about? you should consider yourself lucky that he didn't gut you for pissing him off.

if you want to have any form of resolve to this argument, you'll have to force the conversation because he will actively try to shut you down. he can't. he literally can't. resolution is not something he is good at, and unless you're the one to apologize, even if you aren't the one who is at fault, he's just not going to let any of this resolve. does that make him an asshole? yeah, it does. does he feel guilty? just a little. does that change anything? no, not really.

LAUGHING JACK, similar to jeff, would feel more upset over you walking away from the fight rather than the fight itself. he can come off as pretty scary during an argument, especially if it's one where he feels like he's in the right. he gets frustrated easily, and he's just overall a very expressive person, so. and he can get pretty fucking mean if he wants to, so yeah honestly you needing to walk away makes complete and total sense and he knows that it makes sense but that doesn't make him any less upset.

he'll just blame it on his abandonment issues or something because seeing you leave just to go and calm down should not have hurt as much as it did. and he debates going after you but he ultimately decides it would be best if he didn't. he wants to resolve this though, and he'll try but it'll be painfully awkward because, i mean, yeah.

SLENDERMAN is, by default, a pretty scary being the begin with so i imagine an argument with it would be pretty unnerving. it isn't used to people arguing with it, that's for sure. i think it would be more amused than upset, seeing such a small being stare up at it as if trying to intimidate it... it's a cute sight to see, that's for sure. it'll keep that thought to itself, of course. it imagines that saying such a thing out loud may only make things worse.

slender won't be upset when you walk away. it understands that you're just going to cool off. it'll take this time to clear its own thoughts until the two of you are ready to talk again and clear up the tension.

NINA THE KILLER would be immensely frustrated seeing you walk away. she'll probably let out a groan and tell you to come back, but she won't follow after you. she understands that if the two of you kept arguing any longer, things would only get worse. she knows that, so she'll use this as a chance to calm down herself. nina gets over things easier than you would think, and if this argument wasn't over anything major then the next time you see her, she'll most likely be back to her usual self.

she'll probably be the first to apologize as well, even if she feels as if she's not the one at fault. she can't stand when you're upset at her, so just accept her apology so the two of you can move on, yeah?

EYELESS JACK is always viewed as mature and in control of his emotions. and he is. a little too in control if we're being honest here. for most arguments you guys may have, he'll keep his cool and will try to understand your point of view and where you're coming from. there are times, however, when the control he has over his emotions slips, and you get reminded that oh. your boyfriend is a cannibalistic demon that can literally kill you in the blink of an eye. he really doesn't mean to scare you, but it's definitely a good thing you choose that moment to walk away to cool off because he has to physically force himself to not go after you.

and once he calms down, he will apologize. it's a genuine apology, one written all over his face. he never wants to or means to invalidate you and your emotions, and he never wants to make you scared of him.

JANE THE KILLER would probably be the first to walk away from an argument, if we're being fairly honest. if this is richardson we're talking about, then she's definitely more mature about it and politely suggests that you both take fifteen minutes to cool off before continuing the conversation. she does it because it's one, a healthy thing to do for your relationship, and two, while she is heavily in control of her emotions, the liquid hate running through her veins enhances her anger and it would be really bad if she genuinely got angry.

if this is arkensaw, i think she'll be a little less mature than she would like. she portrays herself as someone in control of her emotions, but her emotions and her hatred are what drive her. she does her best to her burning-hot anger in check but if you two have an argument, then it's fairly difficult. if you walk away first, then it'll only serve to upset her more, but she won't go after you. honestly, she'll probably even avoid you in the coming days because her anger lingers. it always lingers.

CANDY POP thinks it's cute that this little argument of yours got you so worked up that you had to walk away from him. honestly hell yeah if i were you i'd walk away from him as well because there is simply no winning with this guy. worst man you could ever argue with, to be honest.

but as we all know, his mood can change in an instant with no warning so. one moment, he thinks you walking away from him is cute and adorable. the next, he's getting frustrated and following after you because you don't get to walk away from him, silly. haven't you realized that he owns you?

CLOCKWORK, while she has her own anger issues and tends to get easily frustrated by the smallest of things, does try her best to keep her emotions in check if you two ever have an argument. it's not easy, and there have been times when she's snapped at you, but she always apologizes immediately after.

you walking away would make sense. she understands, she knows that you both need to take time to calm down before things get too heated. she gets it. but depending on what you two are arguing about, doing so could only serve to make her more angry. it's... frustrating, really. she won't follow after you though, because she knows it's what is best.

TOBY would want you to walk away. he needs it, to be honest. he tries to avoid getting into arguments with you for various different reasons. arguing with you stresses him out more than he would like it to, and it reminds him of the hold you have on him. you walking away from the argument would give him time to clear his head and cool off.

once you've both calmed down, he'll probably be the first to approach you because he cannot stand the awkward tension that always lingers after arguments with people. he wants to clear the air so this can all just be water under the bridge. it'll be a painfully awkward conversation though. he's not good at... resolving arguments. never had a positive example, to be honest.

NURSE ANN struggles to speak, so i think she would try to avoid getting into an argument because she feels as if she won't be able to properly get her point across. but arguments are bound to happen sooner or later, even in the healthiest relationships. and ann, to put it simply, is a very angry person. she keeps that anger in check when you're around, but it's literally impossible to not slip up a few times.

since ann rarely ever vocally speaks, her anger is typically conveyed in her stares and her jerky gestures as she signs. you walking away is the smartest thing you could do in that moment, leaving her alone to stew in her always-burning anger that she'll choose to take out on any nearby destructible objects or some sad poor soul that just so happens to trespass at her hospital in the coming hours.

X-VIRUS seems like the type of guy who has never really been in any arguments, to be honest. maybe when he was at the orphanage he got into a few petty arguments between the other kids, but nothing that would warrant needing to walk away, y'know? and i definitely don't think he'd treat the argument seriously, brushing off your words and whatnot.

he only realizes that you were genuinely angry with him when you walked away. it's definitely like... a slap in the face that oh. i'm a fucking asshole. he's not really sure what to do in this moment, and he waits until you come back on your own to try and apologize. but he's not the best at apologies.

KAGEKAO wouldn't treat the argument seriously at all. at least, not at first. honestly, he'd probably purposefully get you even more upset just to get a reaction out of you. does that make him an asshole? oh, most certainly. he just likes seeing you feel anything towards him, even if it's anger. he likes getting a reaction out of you because it's him you're reacting to. and it's entertaining as well, though you don't need to know that.

when you walk away, he'll feel a little frustrated at not being able to see you but he won't follow after you. he knows when to stop his antics. shocking, i know. and, if you're lucky, he may even hold you in his arms once you calm down. it's his way of an apology, i suppose.

JASON THE TOYMAKER fucking hates arguing with you. you're his other half, so arguing with you makes him feel sick to his stomach because what if... what if you aren't the one? he likes you too much to lose you, so you have to be the one. he definitely seems like he'd try to keep the argument short, and he'll be relieved when you walk away to cool off.

you don't try to leave him afterward, even if he was at fault for whatever you two may have been bickering over. that's good, really. that means you want to stay with him, even if you two have arguments like this. that's... that's so good.

THE PUPPETEER can't stand when anyone argues with him, so yeah, any argument you may have with him will be horrible and tense and it will not be pretty. he has to be the one to get the final word. he has to be the one in the right, even if he isn't. you must be aware of this, right? i mean, you're (hopefully, i assume) willingly sticking around this guy, right? so you should know that there's no winning with him.

and you walking away is simply not something he'll take kindly to. it's something that'll more than likely get a how dare you reaction out of him. you're a fool if you think he's just going to let you walk away. no, he'll either follow after you, or he'll pull you back with his strings. the conversation isn't over until he says that it's over.

HOMICIDAL LIU definitely does try to avoid any potential arguments with you. to be honest, most of your arguments with him will more than likely stem from his almost blatant disregard for his health and safety when he's injured as well as his almost suffocating habit of needing to protect you and keep you safe. it's inevitable, even if it's something he tries so desperately to avoid. that desperation is what tends to lead to arguments as well, if we're being honest.

he's not upset when you walk away. honestly, he's glad that you do. he always feels pretty damn awful whenever you two fight, and he patiently waits until you're ready to pick things back up so you two can resolve things and move on.

SULLY listens to everything you say with rapt attention. the only thing that matters to him at that moment is whatever you two are arguing about. hell, he doesn't give a shit about the argument itself rather than what you say, the expressions you make, and your tone of voice. every little gesture or movement you make catches his attention. honestly, if you asked him what you two were arguing about, he'd just look at you with a slightly confused expression because he's already forgotten.

and when you walk away to cool off and get some air, he has to restrain himself from following after you. he forces himself to sit down and he bites his fist as his mind hyper-focuses on every word you said and the way you looked at him and just... yeah, he's already moved on from the argument he just wants to see your face and hear your voice again.

THE BLOODY PAINTER is definitely not someone you want to have an argument with, honestly. not because he's an angry person or scary to get into an argument with or anything like that, no. he's just... very apathetic. it'll feel like you're arguing with a brick wall rather than a person, and you'll maybe even feel as if he doesn't care about you or your feelings. he just stares at you, blank-faced and monotoned.

once you realize that this argument is going literally nowhere, you leave to calm yourself down and he stays behind. it's not that he doesn't care about you and your feelings, he does, truly, he just... well... i could go into heavy heavy detail about his apathy when it comes to arguments but to spare you the length of that, just know that he does care, he's just absolutely horrific at showing it. once you come back, he will apologize for not better expressing himself and for unintentionally invalidating you and your feelings. he'll be better, though it will take time for him to become expressive.

THE DOLL MAKER seems like the type of person who wouldn't handle arguments well, i think. he's a fairly closed-off person and has some trouble conveying his thoughts and feelings sometimes, so i think it would stress him out a bunch if he got into a fight with you. depending on how bad the argument is, he'll either try to diffuse the situation or he may get angry and make things worse.

the moment you walk off, vine will be throwing himself into work to both calm himself down and distract himself from any potentially needless thoughts. he'll certainly try his best to resolve the conflict with you once you've both taken time to calm down but it'll definitely be stiff.

ZALGO would be very amused if you try arguing with him over something. you, a silly little mortal that somehow managed to catch his interest, are trying to argue with him, an eldritch horror beyond human comprehension that literally creates chaos for shits and giggles? how adorable. he's not going to take you seriously at all, i hope you know that.

and even if you walk away, you won't exactly be alone. zalgo is always there with you, even if not physically. a part of him is stuck with you, so he's always able to watch you, to talk to you. he thinks you're being dramatic for getting upset over something that he deems to be so utterly insignificant. there won't be any form of conflict resolution with him, so don't expect any form of apology or empathy or anything of that sort.

HOBO HEART you gotta be careful with, i think. the last time he felt as if he'd been wronged by the person he loved, he tore her heart out. not to say he'd tear your heart out over a minor argument or anything like that, no, that would be pretty petty and... he doesn't really think he's a terrible enough person to do that. maybe. depending on how serious the argument is.

he'll be a little disheartened when you walk away because he would rather clear up the air and tension immediately rather than wait but he understood, somewhat, that it'd be better if you both took time to cool off before either of you tried to resolve the conflict hanging in the air.

[megwritesriddles]

Call Me (Anytime!) ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 17 - Sexting/Phone sex. Reader and Mike only ever text about work but they both want to change that. Once they do, things escalate very fast and Mike can only hope to keep his head.

Tags: Sexting, Phone sex, Masturbation (f and m), Dirty talk, Flirting, Coworkers, Friends to lovers, Developing relationship, Not canon complaint (no evil animatronics).

Word count: 2.6k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Your texts are purple, Mike's are blue!! Yes, I switched this around with my Spencer fic because I needed more time on it, sorry!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

PART 2 HERE !!

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You had his number purely for work reasons. To let each other know when you were running late or calling off sick. A mutual agreement, to make sure neither of you came to work one day and had two people’s jobs sprung on you unannounced. A show of worker solidarity. Texts were few and far between, especially because you saw each other almost daily, but mostly because there wasn’t much to talk about. 

“Hey, problems with Abby’s sitter, running ten mins late. Cover for me,”

“Off sick today with the flu! Hope you didn’t get it from me yesterday! Cya!”

“I got the flu from you. Now it’s my turn to take a few days off. Thanks,”

“Did you see they are changing our insurance provider?” 

“Cheapskates,”

“Tell me about it!”

The conversation was never about anything but work, occasionally you heard a little about his sister Abby, but only if it was in some way related to him needing to miss work. You liked Mike a lot, you had fun working with him. Although your job was to watch the monitors in the office and his to patrol the building, you saw a lot of one another. He stopped by the security office much more than was strictly necessary, but no one was there to chase you up about it. As long as he could still respond to a threat (not that any ever came), you were fine. He was not very talkative, but would still hang around in the doorway of the office, expecting you to speak to him. So you did, and he listened well, whatever it was you landed on. Sometimes you liked to gossip with him since you had no mutual friends and he couldn’t spread the word. He pretended not to care about the drama you provided him with, but would always subtly try to enquire more about it. He didn’t have much going on in his own life. Or rather, he had a whole lot going on, which meant he had time for nothing else. Working nights and taking care of Abby took up all his time, and he’d always been a bit of an introvert, so socialising had fallen to the wayside for several years now. Living vicariously through the stories of your friends' love lives was fun for him, as much as he loathed to admit it. He was grateful for you, that you were kind and willing to talk to him while on shift, even if he was a bad conversationalist. He considered you a friend, perhaps his best one, even though he knew he was far from the same thing to you. He was your coworker, considered a friend if he was very lucky. Unbeknownst to him, you did truly consider him a friend, even if you weren’t quite in the desperate position he was. 

Every time you picked up your phone, you debated texting him about something not work-related. You talked about plenty more than just work at work, so why did this seem like such an impossible boundary to cross? You’d always thought he was cute, from the moment you’d started working together and from all the information you’d gleaned from him over time at work, you knew he was a lonely guy. You were sure he would want your friendship and maybe even more than that, but the transition seemed impossible somehow. You wanted him to feel less lonely, whether through friendship or more. So one day, after he texts you something innocuous about getting to work late next week due to Abby’s school play (you found his dedication to his sister very sweet and were always happy to cover for him so he wouldn’t miss important things like this), you bite the bullet. You start small.

“Cute! What’s the play?”

“Robin Hood. Abby’s shy so she only made the sets, but still wants me to come see,”

You’re happy he doesn’t immediately shut you down, but you’re aware he might simply be being polite, or happy to talk about his sister like he always is. You think for a moment then text back, even though you’re sure he assumes the conversation is over now. 

“I suppose I’ll have to miss this one :( Hold me a ticket for the next one!”

You immediately wonder if you’ve gone too far, trying to insert yourself into his life, into his future like this. No, you tell yourself, you’re overthinking, he’ll just interpret you as being polite but not serious. It would be fine. It’s a while until he texts back, so long that you assume he isn’t going to and continue about your day. 

“Sure thing. What are you up to atm?” 

Mike’s heart pounds as he sends the message. He’s not used to carrying a conversation forward like this, but he’s also not used to you talking to him about more than work, he has to take this chance. The fear of rejection consumes him for the next few minutes as he waits. He knows it’s barely anything, that there were a hundred riskier options for what he could have texted you, but he’s still anxious.

“Folding laundry! You?”

Mike immediately wonders what sorts of clothes you might have. You dress very plain for the security job, jeans and hoodies, the occasional t-shirt when it’s a little warmer, but he’s always felt your body looks too good to be dressed like that. You must show it off at least a little, and god, he’d love to see it. He’s occasionally caught sight of lace at your hips when you’ve bent over at work. He imagines you touching those panties while you text him and hates that the thought excites him. He really ought to get out more. 

“Watching TV.”

He responds and realises he’s been a little too short with his answer. He racks his brain for something more to say.

“Girl on my show looks like you.” 

He adds, although it’s not even true. He has the news on, but he wanted an excuse to say something more, without having to comment on the miserable contents of the news.

“Is she cute? ;)”

You text back, unsure what possessed you to be flirty, you hope to God you can play it off if he reacts poorly, like you’re just messing with him and stroking your own ego. You’d sent it without thinking, the reply popping into your mind and onto your screen in mere seconds. Mike is just as shocked. You can’t really be flirting, can you? He hasn’t flirted in years and was never good at it to begin with. He really doesn’t want to mess this up with you, not only because you work together, but because he genuinely really likes you and he’s hopeful that now things have settled down a bit with Abby, he could maybe try and find some romance. Abby needed a feminine presence in her life, especially as she got older, and, selfishly, Mike wanted to be loved, someone to hold on cold nights. He also really really wanted to get laid. He was only a man, and as much as other concerns had dominated his mind for a long time, you had brought back long-dormant urges. This is the thought that drives him forward as he sends his next text.

“She’s cute. But, she hardly compares to you,” 

It’s another big risk, but he wants you so badly that he’s willing to take it. He’s not thinking with his head anymore. 

“How so?”

You retort, your heart fluttering a little at his compliment. But you want to be sure of how he feels, you don’t want him to beat around the bush. You need to know that he wants you.

“You’re too beautiful for anyone to compare,”

He responds earnestly. This is it, he’s been transparent, this would be incredibly hard to play off as a joke. If it was a joke it would be a cruel one, so his plausible deniability is gone, his cards are on the table. He waits with bated breath. You take a long time to respond, unsure what to say. Your instinct is to thank him, but it might end the conversation there, you need this to keep going. 

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Of course you are, no need to be modest. You could model,”

“Haha! No, I couldn’t model, certainly not runway, but thank you anyway :)” 

“Maybe a magazine? Star in a film at least?”

“I could star in your fantasies ;)” 

The text takes both of you off-guard, even though you’re the one who wrote it. You had been texting so fast back and forth that you once again hadn’t thought before sending. You nearly send a message back, taking back your words and apologising, but your confidence has inspired Mike’s as well and he shoots back a text while you’re formulating an apology.

“You already do,”

Mike feels hot all over when he sends the text, having to shed his hoodie before he starts properly sweating. As out of his depth as he feels, he’s positive by now that you’re flirting and he can’t lose this chance. He needs you, he needs you to want him too, and he’s finally allowing himself to believe that perhaps you do. 

“How often?”

“Every night,”

He can’t understand why he’s being so brazen, he could have easily scared you off by now, but you’re still texting him. He’s not thinking with his head anymore. His words make you excited, to know he thinks of you in this way, and every night is thrilling and arousing. You figure based on his last confession, that you can throw caution to the wind. You want him, he wants you, that much should be clear by now to the both of you. 

“Me too! I imagine you fucking me over the security desk,”

Oh my god. Mike’s hands shake violently as he reads the text, he can’t help but let out a strangled moan, incredibly glad he’s alone right now. Has he died and gone to heaven? Are you playing a cruel prank on him? No, you’ve always been too kind and this is a long way to go for a prank. You must want him like you say, the thought makes his head spin and his pants tighten even more. For the first time ever, he can’t wait to go to work. 

“Yeah? I think of that too,”

“Shall we? ;)”

“God, yes. I don’t even care if I get fired for it,”

“I won’t tell if you don’t!”

“My lips are sealed,”

God, he wants you so bad. He wishes he could come visit you and stop this agonising waiting game that’s begun, but his car is in the shop and the public transport nearby is virtually non-existent. This has all escalated so quickly, he had only hoped a few minutes ago for a brief non-work related chat, and now you were making plans with him for him to fuck you. He had to be in heaven, there was no other explanation. He was not going to get a single minute of work done next shift, or perhaps ever again. That poor desk doesn’t know what’s coming for it if he can have it his way. He prays you’re willing because he has about a million things he’d like to try with you.

His phone rings and he tenses. He doesn’t know whether to relax or tense further when he realises it’s you calling, but he quickly picks up anyway. As soon as he hears your voice, lower and sultrier than usual, he can’t help but buck his hips into the air slightly. 

“Hey Mike,” you whisper seductively. You’re lying back against your pillows, trembling with nerves and excitement.

“Hey… uh… beautiful…” he tries his best to be suave. You giggle softly, but not mockingly at his awkwardness.

“Thinking of me?

“Fuck, you can’t even imagine,” he groans. 

“Touching yourself?” 

“No, but… good idea… you don’t mind?” he exhales, although he’s already palming himself through his boxers, his jeans having been unzipped sometime a little while ago. He’s lost control of himself. You’re softly running your hand up and down your stomach, warming yourself up, eager to hear more. 

“If I was there, I’d do it for you,” you purr, enjoying the choked breath you hear on the other end of the line. He grips himself through the fabric, starting to stroke gently. 

“How long have you wanted me like this?” he groans into the receiver, embarrassed knowing he isn’t going to last long, the high of being wanted like this, by you of all people, really getting to him.

“Since we met,” you reply, your voice a little breathy. He can guess why and the thought makes him whimper.

“When I get my hands on you I am gonna worship you,” he promises, his voice low and hoarse, his hand now inside his boxers. “I don’t deserve your attention but God, if I have it, I’ll make sure I don’t lose it, I’ll please you all day and night,” he pants harshly between words and he can hear soft moans from your end that only spur him on. “I want to make you happy,” he groans. He means it in many ways, but right now, you hope you only interpret it as lust, he won’t let his stupid heart ruin this for him right now.

“I wanna make you happy too,” you whimper. The words hit him hard, his eyes squeezing shut and his whole body erupting in pleasure. He throws his head back against the couch, groaning loudly, hearing your moans pick up as a result is unendingly thrilling. He spills all over his hand, thick ropes of his need for you. He gasps for breath and listens intently as you fall apart on the other end. Your moans are like sweet music, and somehow you have his cock swelling again already. He wills it away as you come down from your high, gasping for breath, not wanting to push you too far. He needs this to not be a one-time thing, he needs you in person. In his mind, he pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead, telling you how happy you’ve made him.

“I wish you were here,” he says instead, figuring it’s a little safer. You laugh a little, but it seems more like a laugh of surprise than anything.

“Still? Even though you finished already?” you tease.

“Of course, I… I could never just be done with you like that,” he insists softly, hoping you feel similarly. It seems, now more than ever, that he’s craving love and connection and now he knows that it has to be with you in order to fill what’s missing in his life. You are perfect. He knew it before but he knows it completely now. You are everything. “I care… you know? This wasn’t just a horny thing for me,”

“You seemed pretty horny,”

“You know what I mean!” he protests and you giggle. He laughs too, though he’s still anxious about how you felt about his confession. 

“I care too, Mike,” you admit with a soft sigh, rolling onto your side. “I also want you here… Would you spoon me?”

“Of course, I would, gladly,” he promises, inwardly ecstatic that you want his affection. He wants to keep you warm and safe, tucked up against his chest, safe from harm. He imagines kissing your neck and he hears you sigh happily, he wonders if you share his fantasy. “I can’t wait to see you again. I’m so… grateful for all this… that you like me like this,” he hums, slowly tucking himself away and zipping up. He makes a mental note to buy you flowers for when he next sees you, hopefully, accompanied by the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend.

“I’ll see you at work,” you smile, blowing a kiss into the receiver.

“Yeah, see you at work,”

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xoxoxo

[roanofarcc]

MIDSUMMERS FIGHT CLUB

PAIRING: JJ Maybank X fem!reader

SUMMARY: In what may be considered a lapse in judgment, you help JJ out in an unfair fight that breaks out during Midsummers.  

WARNINGS: Doesn’t follow the scene to a T. Canon violence, kook!reader, a curse or two. 

master list | requests are open!

A/n: Every time I plan a short & sweet fic, it ends up being over 1k words. I, apparently, do not know how to be brief.

Midsummers was supposed to be the party of the summer. You attended every year and often looked forward to it, but you were incredibly bored. The bar was guarded by the country club owner to prevent underage kids from getting drunk and puking in the pool, again. That meant the only way to get drinks was by sweet-talking Rafe or Topper, and you’d rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do that. 

You were sober, the weather was too humid, the venue smelled like overpriced perfume, and all of your friends were too busy macking on their dates to spare you a glance. In a desperate attempt to entertain yourself and not get roped into another conversation with your mother, father, and their boring friends, you wandered inside the club in search of some form of entertainment. 

Much to your surprise, you didn’t have to look long. You were only inside for a couple of minutes, debating if you could sneak some champagne from the kitchen, when someone barreled into you, sending you both crashing against the ground. 

An impressive string of curse words came from the person who ran you over. It took you a moment to regain your barrings, but when you did, a somewhat familiar face was standing above you. JJ Maybank, a well-known Pouge for not many great reasons. Yet, he looked frantic and apologetic as he held out his hand. 

“Sorry,” he said in a rushed breath before his head snapped behind him. The sound of footsteps echoed from down the hall. “Shit,” JJ hissed under his breath as he looked past you and down the rest of the hallway corridor as he helped you up.

Topper, Rafe, and the rest of their buddies came into view, faces pinched in anger. JJ’s eyes widened as he dropped your hand and took off as the boys followed. 

You contemplated getting involved, knowing it was none of your business. But you were equal parts bored, curious, and a little concerned as to what those boys were going to do to each other. You had no reason to care about any of them, but from what little you knew about JJ’s reputation along with Rafe and his friends’ temper, you felt that walking away was a little cowardly. The thought of a fight made you nervous, even if it didn’t concern you whatsoever. 

So, you followed them, albeit a bit regrettably, into the boys’ locker room. When you arrived, though it had to have been less than a minute since they had passed you, JJ was in a headlock, Topper’s arm hooked around his throat while JJ struggled. 

Maybe you were a bit sheltered, having never witnessed a fight up close before. You’d been at parties where they’d broken out, but they were either in another room or you and your friends fled before the cops were called. You stood wide-eyed for a moment until they saw you introducing. 

“Beat it, princess,” Rafe spat, his tone mocking in the same way it always was. 

You rolled your eyes. “What are you doing?” you asked. Kooks and Pouges didn’t get along, but by the look on their faces, they were engaged in something larger than mere dislike. 

“None of your business,” Topper replied, squeezing his arm tighter around JJ. The boy was nearly turning blue. You surged forward, not exactly sure what you planned to do. 

Rafe stopped you, blocking your path before he mustered a fake smile. “This is sort of personal business between us and this Pouge, okay? You don’t wanna get involved.” It almost sounded like a threat, but while Rafe was the problem child of the Camerons, you weren’t particularly intimated by him in his polo and khaki shorts. He looked like every other douchey teen at the country club. 

JJ managed to wriggle free from Topper, stumbling backward with ragged breaths. You sidestepped Rafe and managed to get in between JJ and Topper before the latter could lurch forward. “Serious, Topper, what is your problem? Since when do you pick fights?” 

“Since Sarah started hanging out John B.,” one of the other boys answered, looking a little amused at the whole situation, but he shrugged when Topper sent him a glare. Unlike Rafe, Topper was more well-rounded, less likely to fly off the handle from what you'd seen and heard.

“It’s none of your business,” Topper said, his face showing how hard he was trying to quell his anger. “Get out of my way.” 

You pursed your lips as if you were in deep thought. “Or what?”

Topper said nothing; he pressed his lips in a thin line, unsure of what exactly his next move was. Rafe, however, was not as contemplative when it came to his actions, he was rash and grabbed your shoulders roughly before shoving you to the side. You stumbled, nearly toppling over but you caught yourself on one of the benches that lined the middle of the locker room. 

“Whoa, whoa, hey.” JJ’s voice filled the air as he caught his breath. He stepped up to Rafe, his face littered with cuts and bruises. They didn’t look like fresh wounds, but you wondered if they were gained in another fight with Rafe and Topper, which prompted the outburst in the locker room. “Come on, guys. We don’t need to get the lady involved.” 

You wanted to laugh at being called a lady, and maybe if Rafe didn’t look ready to try to choke the life out of JJ, you would have. He caught JJ by the fabric of his white button-down and threw him up against a wall of lockers, pinning him there while Topper got close beside Rafe, in JJ’s face. 

“Those are some nasty cuts on your face,” Rafe said, almost tauntingly. You stood upright, eyes flickered back and forth between the boys on one side of the room doing nothing to help or call off their friends, and the trio up against the lockers. “You’re starting to look more and more like your old man.” 

You were buzzing with adrenaline, pissed off that Rafe had the gull to shove you. In a quick motion, you pulled off your heavy wedged heel before bringing it down against the back of Rafe’s head. It was hard enough to get him off of JJ, but not enough to send him to the floor. Topper backed up as you raised your heel at him in a warning. 

A laugh fell from JJ’s lips looking a little bewildered. “Holy shit,” he said. 

Rafe’s face was red hot with anger. Topper placed a hand on his shoulder in a lame attempt to get him to back off and return to the party before things escalated, but Rafe lurched forward towards you. You had a feeling he held more than just the intention to shove you out of the way. 

You were unbalanced in one shoe but raised your heel in meek defensive against what you thought would be direct assault, but JJ moved in front of you, earning himself another blow from Rafe that nearly knocked both of them to the ground. Rafe raised his fist to punch, you tightened your grip on the shoe to hit him again, and JJ braced himself, but all of it was quickly put to a stop.

A voice bellowed from the entrance of the locker room. “What is going on in here?!” A security guard asked, jaw tight and stern. You recognized him from other country club events. 

Rafe backed off, as did JJ. Everyone tried their best to make themselves look like nothing that would get them kicked out of the party was occurring. 

JJ started talking, some boisterous declaration that he was the one not supposed to be there and needed to be escorted out. It was a smart move. 

The security guard started to lead him out, and you followed close behind, not wanting to be left with Rafe, Topper, and their useless friends. 

JJ turned around with a smug look on his face. “You Powerpuff girls have a great rest of your night!” 

Topper glared harshly. “Tell Kie she looks pretty hot for a Pouge.” 

Despite the security guard’s grip on JJ’s arm, he yanked himself free and looked ready to throw another punch. But he was caught before he could, the security guard grunting under his breath about ‘goddamn kids.’ You set your jaw and threw your wedge as hard as you could at Topper. He ducked and the shoe hit one of his friends. 

The security guard took a deep breath, and instead of the annoyance he seemed to have for JJ, he must have recognized you from your previous visits. He looked more disappointed than anything but said and did nothing. He tugged JJ along and led the way out of the locker room. 

“For a Kook, you fight like a Pouge,” JJ said. You weren’t sure if that was a compliment, but you decided to take it as one. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to throw something at Rafe.” 

He laughed lightly, catching your eye with a shake of his head. His blond hair fell against his forehead, covering up the cut above his brow. There was a light red mark around his neck, but it didn’t seem like Topper held him with enough force to leave too bad of a bruise in the coming days. It still looked like it hurt, though. 

“Remind me to call you next time I get into a fight.” The security guard side-eyed JJ, who offered him a terribly fake innocent smile. “Hypothetically, sir.” The man huffed and continued along the hall. 

“What was their deal anyway? I know they can be assholes but, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them like that.” 

“I’m afraid that’s confidential information,” JJ said with a playful smile. “I can’t discuss it; I’m on a top-secret mission tonight. And my job is done. That’s why this good man’s dragging me out of here.” He patted the security guard on the shoulder, and you were worried for a moment the man was going to break it by the glare in his eyes. 

Midsumers were always so serious, people mingling with fear of being judged by each other while they were judging each other. You usually got some break in the company of friends, but they were occupied. You worried that this year’s party would be painfully boring, but you were proven wrong in a matter of minutes. Despite the threat and act of violence, JJ had an infectious upbeat, mischievous attitude. While it felt a little silly, you itched for more. 

The three of you neared the crowd of people outside and JJ slowed his pace just slightly. “Well, I’m almost done. But I am about to make a scene in front of all of these people,” he said. “If I were you, I’d hang back.” His voice but a whisper, but you were pretty sure the security guard heard him because his grip tightened around JJ’s upper arm. 

“Noted,” you replied. “See you around?” It came out as more of a question. 

“Yeah, you will.” 

With that, JJ stumbled out into the crowd of people, loudly talking and stealing drinks from waiters. Guests looked confused while some looked mortified. Three people from the crowd that JJ must’ve known joined him, practically running out from under the pavilion and into the dark night. The teens were all laughing with each other, an endearing sight that probably very few felt beside you. 

Despite your loneliness the rest of the night, your mind of fully occupied by JJ Maybank. 

[aux-squiggle]

Daughter or Abortion #1

Conclusions at the bottom

The other week I made a tiktok post about how I will get an abortion if my fetus is male because I will only birth daughters and I found it hilarious how much it pissed off supposed "pro choicers."

And it's made me realize a lot of mainstream pro-choicers reasons for being pro choice isn't because they truly agree with the meat of pro-choicism, but rather because they approve of abortion in more cases than what we consider prolife.

They approve of abortion in cases of rape, poverty, medical necessity, lack of parental skill, career aspirations, unpreparedness etc. But that's not why pro-choicism exists. Pro choice is not about having a good reason to abort, or extending abortion to enough reasons, but because of arbitration.

Whether a woman will carry a fetus to term or not is a complete arbitration. She could decide to flip a coin on whether or not she'll have the baby and that's completely morally neutral. If that makes you uncomfortable, get over it.

Mainstream pro-choicers can justify the above "good reasons to abort" via an array of arguments including the argument that fetuses are not people (which is true). But in their complaint against me saying I will abort a male fetus when I am trying for children (via a separatist method btw I couldn't be caught dead fucking a man), they expose that they have not taken the "fetuses are not people" thought process to its logical end.

Fetuses pre-24 weeks are no better than an organ. They are just rapidly growing cells, that will mostl likely become a baby but is not yet a baby. But until it actually becomes a baby, it is just as "unbaby" as every other organ in your body.

Post 24 weeks fetuses have the brain structures necessary for consciousness (though when this consciousness actually "turns on" for the first time is debated. Let's say it's 24 weeks for the sake of the conversation even though it may be 28 weeks or even later).

Maybe you consider consciousness the start of personhood or maybe you consider being born the start of personhood (I personally consider first consciousness the start of personhood, however fetuses beyond 24 weeks still are at arbitration because the mother has the right to remove it at any time, same way if your body was hooked up to keep someone else alive, you can unhook it anytime).

Therefore I consider first consciousness the time a fetus becomes a baby, and babies are people. Fetuses are not babies, and are also not people.

Discrimination* is only a thing that happens to people.

*In the social sense of treating a group differently and/or unfairly because of their traits. Not the literal meaning of discriminate which is essentially akin to sorting or approaching things differently.

What does this mean? Fetuses cannot be discriminated against.

Abortion typically happens before 24 weeks (and any abortion I have will be pre-24w). Therefore no person is suffering or being treated differently if I abort it for being male, because fetuses aren't people.

Of course people immediately snap "oh what if someone aborts daughters huh?" First of all, a pre-24w abortion is incapable of harming the female fetus because it's not a person. That "potential daughter" did not experience the (presumed) misogyny behind the decision because it can't experience anything. It's not conscious, it was never conscious, and it's a not a person.

If the woman aborted the female fetus because of misogynistic messaging she's received in society, that's still her choice, and I still support her choice to do anything regarding her own pregnancy. The only victim in the situation is her from the misogyny she already experienced in life. An aborted female fetus is the consequence of misogyny and not a method of misogyny in and of itself. Her womb is not real estate for social justice and equality.

Let me say that again. Her womb is not real estate for social justice and equality.

If carrying a female fetus to term would upset her, because misogyny has told her it's better to have sons, then it doesn't matter if she ends up becoming the next Andrea Dworkin ultra feminist 20 years down the line, because the stress and anxiety she experienced from having a pregnancy she didn't want (even if I don't agree with the reason why she didn't want it) will become birth trauma which is one of the deepest forms of trauma someone can have.

It would be better for her to have aborted and be happy than give birth and be sad, even if I think the reason for the happiness and sadness is ridiculous or misogynistic.

Complete arbitration is necessary to be pro choice. If you don't like complete arbitration, then you're not pro choice, you're pro-abortion-for-more-situations-than-typical-pro-lifers. The two are not the same.

Additionally, had the daughter been born to a mom who doesn't want her, she'd be traumatized so it's better to never have known that suffering in the first place.

Inversely, if you are pro-choice it doesn't matter whether you agree or not with me not wanting sons. I don't want a walking liability, I don't want a ticking time bomb who I could feed feminism from the moment he says his first word yet can grow up into a sneako rat or the next Andrew prostate. The most laterally misogynistic daughter is not enabled to do as much harm as a mildly misogynistic son.

We've got to remember that the patriarchy doesn't give a fuck about women's opinions and feelings. The patriarchy only exists to serve men. Women tend to become internally misogynistic and/or laterally misogynistic to ease the cognitive dissonance that occurs from being a human woman, in a system that treats women as subhuman. But the patriarchy does not actually care if you internally agree or not, it just wants to control you. Internalized & lateral misogyny make you easier to control. But you could be a complete anti-patriarchal ultra radical feminist, but as long as you're as easy to control as a believing tradwife, patriarchy doesn't care. Men don't care.

Because the patriarchy doesn't give enough of a shit about you to truly care about your deepest opinions and just wants to control you, no woman in a patriarchal sphere of influence will be elevated to the level of authority and control as a man. Because of the fact she could use her authority to spread anti-patriarchal dissent by hiding her deepest opinions to get that authority in the first place.

This is especially concerning when it comes to intimate relationships and what men can get away with.

An ultra far right laterally misogynistic tradwife daughter posts bs propaganda on the internet and ruins her own life. A casually misogynistic man (on the right or the left) rapes women. Or beats women and calls it kink, or buys sex (another form of rape) and calls it female empowerment. The misogynistic daughter is an embarrassment, the misogynistic son is a targeted nuclear warhead heading for women that I helped fashion. Absolutely not, under no circumstances will I create such a risk to the female class.

A poor person who supports capitalism will never be as bad as an actual capitalist who benefits from labour they did not do, and often makes the material conditions for the proletariat unfair or abusive.

It's funny though because you need a LOT of abuse, social conditioning and often straight up programming to turn a daughter into such a class traitor, which my future daughter(s) will seldom have due to the fact they will grow up without a patriarch and without brothers.

Single sex schools are still fairly common in Ireland too so they'll most likely be going to those (and most of said single sex schools ban makeup for students too, and are uniformed, so way less expensive trends and self consciousness about the face). And Ireland, while not some beam of patriarchy-less sunshine, is one of the best for gender equality and as a woman living here I can attest it is much better Nigeria which I'm originally from. And honestly from what I see my American friends going through it seems to be a lot better than large swathed of the USA.

My future daughter(s) with all that, on top of a radfem GNC separatist mom, will be hard pressed to turn into a misogynistic tradwife, whereas a son only needs an internet connection to become a danger to humanity.

But ultimately it doesn't matter if you dislike my reasons for aborting male fetuses if I have one, because my womb is not real estate for social justice and equality.

Additionally it is majorly disrespectful to me but also any mom/future mom to say "don't have children if you're going to hate your child for their sex." Lol what? Obviously if a stork flew down with my magic male full-term or near-full term baby, that is my child and I will obviously love him and raise him as best as I can to be a feminist ally. A pre-24w fetus is not my child because it's not a person. Even after that, until it's born, it's up to a woman's interpretation when a fetus becomes a baby, and further when the baby becomes HER baby.

Overall wider culture but even people on the left, even so-called pro-choicers, seem to take issue with sacrifice minimization. It makes them uncomfortable that a woman will exercise her liberties to bring about the best and happiest outcomes for her child(ren) with the minimal amount of input.

Like described above, bringing about a son who truly respects women and isn't a misogynist at all, is magnitudes much harder than bringing a daughter who has female class consciousness. Why would I out myself through the stress for a son for the high likelihood of failing, when I could live a much more relaxed life with a daughter who is not only class conscious but happy, with way less stress?

I also find people invoke this kind of shame when they try to guilt women into having more than one baby. "Give your kid a sibling, they'll be lonely otherwise!" meanwhile having a sibling can also be lonely and it can cause actual trauma if the siblings don't get along. A lot of one-and-done moms talk about how much easier and more fun life is compared to their friends with 2+ kids. Not saying it's common for pro-choicers to shame women into having more kids, just saying there is a similarity between their distaste for sacrifice minimization.

The sacrifice minimization concept is also allegorical to the conversation about the ethics of aborting disabled fetuses.

Many people abort fetuses for congenital/antenatal disabilities because they view disabled people as lesser, people who don't belong in their family, invalid, they straight up hate disabled people which is extremely ableist. Which makes having kids contraindicated entirely, as any kid can become disabled or have an indetectable disability.

Issue is, the abortion of disabled fetuses is the culmination of extreme ableism, not an act of ableism in and of itself. Because fetuses aren't people, therefore no person was victimized or discriminated against when aborting.

And like I said before, no one's womb is real estate for social justice and equality. It's no one's place to judge what is or isn't evicted from someone's uterus (or who, if the pregnancy is post-24w).

Additionally, not everyone aborts disabled babies because they hate disabled people. To preface, of course disabled people as a whole are very very much not a privileged group. However within the demographic that is disabled people, most of us activists are privileged in comparison. Frankly any one of us who is able to access the internet is very privileged in comparison to some disabled people's difficulties, and this is the stuff that rarely gets posted.

I used to work as a healthcare assistant (for a short time before I had to quit due to my own disabilities) and without exposing anyone's private life, I can comfortably say that as a childhood torture survivor & ritual abuse survivor, still dealing with the physical injuries of torture, there are antenatal disabilities that cause such pain and suffering (to the disabled person) that makes my worst experiences as painful as bumping into a wall in comparison. And such disabilities are not as rare as we'd like them to be.

When it comes to the topic of sacrifice minimization, it's not about whether or not people think such people "deserve" to live or not or if aborting them "saves them from misery," let's put that aside. It is utterly ridiculous to tell a hopeful mom that she SHOULD go through the level of grief, stress, depression, and anxiety to a) go through the more dangerous pregnancy as these in-utero disabilities tend to come with higher risks and b) actively know her entire life will be changed to care for a child with such a high level of need, and then purposefully go through with that, and have that weight and guilt on her shoulders.

Mothers already deal with guilt when it comes to health issues completely unrelated to them, like freak accidents they weren't even present for or had any control over. That (misplaced) guilt is magnified an indescribable amount of times when she has a test showing fetal abnormality and she chooses to keep. That choice to keep, if it occurs, should not be egged on by detached so called pro-choice telling her aborting over this is somehow creating cruelty and hate. It's nobody's business to be swaying her either way.

On top of that, while one should prepare for one's child to be disabled, those possible disabilities often stack onto whatever congenital disability is under scrutiny in the first place. It's not like you get a set of illnesses and that's it, disability parking slots booked out for the future. Many disabled people are at higher risks for other disabilities too. Using one's given medical information to abort disabled fetuses also means only birthing babies with a relatively decreased risk of further disability as well, which means higher potential quality of life (depending on the disability, QoL varies a LOT, and some measurements of QoL are ableist in and of themselves and assume disabled ways of living are inherently worse. I mean QoL in the abstract here).

Babies without many certain antenatal disabilities have not only a far higher chance of survival, but also the mom has a lot more available resources to secure that child's wellbeing, safety and happiness, and are in a better position to address disabilities that appear later while the adults are still caring for the child (or even at birth conditions such as CP). Aborting disabled fetuses is often a form of sacrifice minimization (and probably the most common form of said minimization amongst selective abortions), not always from ableism (although I agree it often is both or just ableism). And mainstream pro-choice left clearly takes issue with sacrifice minimization to some degree.

—

Conclusion: 1) Fetuses (at the very least pre-24 week fetuses) are not people. Fetuses cannot suffer from being aborted. Fetuses that would grow to belong to certain demographics don't experience discrimination for being aborted because they're not people.

2) Abortions based on the future demographic of a fetus is not an act of discrimination in and of itself but is often a culmination of pre-existing discrimination.

3) People's uteruses are not the places for social justice or moralisms. There's no "wrong" thing to do with the contents of one's womb.

4) It is perfectly fine for women to use abortion to minimize their sacrifices in raising children, while still working for the best possible outcomes for the children they do decide to birth.

5) Some people who call themselves pro-choice don't understand point 1 or point 3 and need to work on that stat.

6) If you don't agree with the underlying principles of pro-choice, you're not pro-choice, you're just abortion-permissive to more situations than pro-lifers.

Note: Edited some sentences for clarity. Message of the post is the same

[cerastes]

This is absolutely the Lack Of Reading Comprehension Website, but there's another issue I've noticed that I never see brought up, and it doesn't exist completely excised from lacking reading comprehension, but it's definitely it's own topic.

Tumblr's a Bad Faith Website as well. Like the above, it's not something exclusive to Tumblr, but it definitely defines it in my opinion. A lot of people want to be Right, and disagreements are seen by a bunch of people as something to "win" rather than something to "have". You'll have randos that frame their entire argument against you based on latching onto technicalities to try to prove why you are wrong rather than actually engage with your argument to try and propose something else or turn it around. As someone who was in a debate club during university, I call it "debate-poisoned people" who see arguments and conversations as a sport more than an interaction or, well, an actual conversation to be had, or in other words, that consider every argument as a debate to be had, when a lot of the time, it's not that deep fam, and also the other person never really agreed to play under your rules, because, here's the thing, a debate is a very specific kind of interaction. In a debate, bad faith interaction and trying to erase the very floor the other party is standing on is a valid tactic, it's part of the game. In a conversation or an argument, bad faith interaction and trying to erase the floor the other party is standing on gets you rightfully called a moron who cannot use inference or extrapolation to actually engage with the topic at hand. I had one such weirdo like a week or so ago, even, who used so many words to say absolutely nothing, that I thought I accidentally performed a digital necromantic ritual and had actually found myself face to face with the spirit of Jacques Lacan.

Even in more innocuous, non-hostile scenarios, this still applies: A lot of people are so, so eager to Be Correct On The Internet, that they'll reblog something with a correction or an opinion seemingly so hastily that they did not in fact read the entire post or comprehend it. This feeds into the lack of reading comprehension, but in my opinion, it does also have to do with seeing something that they believe they can correct, and immediately chomping at the bit to correct it without stopping for a second to ask themselves, "Did I read this right? Does this need correction?", and a lot of the time, it turns out, yes, you did not in fact need to correct it, you just had to read it a bit slower without letting your quickdraw hand get the best of you, cowboy. The way I consider this to be Bad Faith, even if it's not really hostile or confrontational, is the long-held belief that The Internet Is Inhabited By People Stupid Enough To Actually Think Or Say Something This Stupid.

I'll be real with you: Yeah, you've seen wild stories on the internet, plenty of them true, about how stupid people can be. No, they do not define the majority of people that aren't you. A wild, flabbergasting story about idiocy gets traction because it's funny and wild. We don't hear stories about how User A made a compelling argument that seemed stupid at first but then turned out that their rationale was incredibly sound as much, because that's not funny and wild and doesn't make us feel good about ourselves, because we'd never make such a stupid mistake. You aren't a sage wearing the floatie of wisdom in an ocean of idiots, no matter what your echo chamber and/or carefully curated internet space makes you think. You are not exempt from having to think about things, and you are not exempt from having to acknowledge people that know things you don't, people wiser than you are out there. This isn't "you are dumb as shit, actually", because I personally believe most people are smart, this is "you are being superficial and too eager to be Correct, which only works to your detriment in the long run and makes you a rather unlikable person".

It's as simple as engaging in good faith, even when you disagree or dislike the other party. Rip apart their arguments properly, instead of trying to disqualify them with cheap gotchas from the get go just because you want to own someone. Yes, sometimes people don't make sense, period, but that's absolutely not as common as people like to claim it happens. Inevitably, you'll run into someone that will actually call out your bullshit and there goes your entire argument. And in less intense settings, really, no one likes a pedant who really wants to be Correct on fucking Tumblr of all places.

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: I thought I wasn't going to have strong opinions about the Laios-Shuro fight, but...

Laios was right about this! Yes, they had 2 physical fights first, but it's important to note that Laios was right about this!

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^ -man who would literally kill to stay in this room and observe this private conversation.

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Sir, your unfaltering little wide-eyed, amiable smile while seriously considering topics that are obviously un-smile-worth has charmed me utterly. I wish to study you like an climate-entomologist yearns for the butterfly that causes storms.

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She seems fine.

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If I start screencapping Laios's and Marcille's faces in this fight, I will never stop because literally every panel is devasting.

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Kuro has done distinctly the most damage so far this fight, just stabbing and gnawing, and I think we should recognize and appreciate that fact.

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I really miss the animation we got of Rin's lightning blast slicing narrowly past Laios.

I love how fast, if reluctantly, Laios accepts that if - not, that Falin is a true "monster", inhuman and hurting people relentlessly and unapologetically, and thus she needs to be killed before she kills them, like any other monster. I also love that Marcille doesn't accept this. Characters!

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+1 to qualification to kingship! Kabru is one again surprised (you can tell by how he's not smiling) (though this might also be due to the significant injuries he just took).

I do have several emotions about how Falin immediately yanks away and kills Kabru, without touching Laios. That's her brother!!

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I really like this little cluster because it says to me that Shuro still has very good "do what Marcille says when she abruptly shouts magic-related directions in combat" instincts. He's a mirror of the "You're already on the Christmas card, buddy" meme - more like, "You're still on the Christmas card." Just like Namari: no one really stops being fond of, and battle companions with, these weirdos.

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I think the most painful part of this probably is that Marcille isn't certain. Maybe this IS her fault. At minimum, she knows she might have mixed the dragon's soul into Falin's, which enabled this even if it didn't create it. But she can't 100% rule out the possibility that it's more her fault than that - which is, of course, the absolute worst thing to say to all of these people looking at her violently askance for using dark magic.

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yeahhhhhh "Lunatic Magician" REALLY lacks the oomph of "Mad Mage"

ANGRY LAIOS! It's such a rare expression on him, it's exciting to see.

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Yesss look at my man Chilchuck use available tools in his environment and save this little goober who thinks it's cool to resent adults.

I really like how they show the social consequences of dark magic. Much beyond Shuro's anger: the other mages are now shutting Marcille down, especially where resurrection magic is concerned. She's made herself untrusted by her peers, whether or not the magic she used on Falin is truly "evil."

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I really enjoy the, like, narratively obligatory, not actually real (well, maybe to Rin) "will they-won't they" between Kabru and Rin. In the story that this isn't, where Kabru is the protagonist with his quirky gang of found family who are helping him save the island and prevent another bloodbath like in his angsty backstory, she IS the One (Human) Female on the Team who is obviously his love interest - often the first to challenge him, battle mage rather than healer ie a Strong Female Character who nonetheless doesn't use unfeminine brute force, forced by happenstance to kiss...

Alas! Kabru is not the protagonist of this story, so Rin shall remain disappointed.

Also this montage of people healing and reuniting while in the background Laios and Shuro whale on each other remains SO funny. Flawless comedic timing.

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Alright, hot take time: I feel like all the debate I've seen about the Shuro/Laios fight depict it as revealing the friendship basically shattered, and never real in the first place. Whereas I'm mostly warmed by how real it clearly was despite everything that just happened?

Shuro is operating on no food and less sleep, desperate to save the woman he idolizes without truly understanding her loves, who is now apparently a monster who nearly slaughtered his most loyal followers. In the past like 2 weeks, Laios has: watched his sister die to save his life (his little sister, whom he is supposed to protect), walked headfirst into a nigh-unwinnable fight to get her back, held her skull in his hands, got her back and held her in his arms, lost her again about 6 hours later in an even more unwinnable fight, which was proven even more unwinnable when the Mage twisted the dungeon itself against them, saw her again but as a murderous monster now (which might be due to the magic he agreed to use to resurrect her), swiftly and sternly resigned himself to fighting and potentially killing her (his little sister! whom he is supposed to protect!), had her recognize him (and no one else!) despite her monstrosity, watched her be killed (again!) in part thanks to him distracting her, except it didn't work and then she fled.

This is an immature, ignoring-immediate-needs (ie, food, healing) knock-down drag-out fight between two men at the absolute ends of their ropes, who, sure, have built-up resentments against each other and the world, and an inciting incident pushing them over the edge - but mostly neither of them can punch in the face the fact that they can't save Falin. So they punch each other instead.

I won't even address the prologue to the fight, where Laios tells him about the black magic and Shuro promptly tries to strangle him then levels a sword at him. Kabru already nailed that: Shuro was worried about Falin - that the magic had hurt her, that the social consequences would be worse. Laios knew this enough that he didn't fight back, then. But now?

The first shove is Shuro demanding, Don't you fucking DARE give me false hope.

I cannot emphasize enough how hard I would also slap someone for suggesting that I wasn't taking the death and monsterization of my younger sibling seriously.

Shuro knows it, too. He doesn't respond to this, he just punches, and Laios punches back. Shuro doesn't speak again until Laios knocks him all the way down, and

Shuro is at his absolute depth. The lowest point he (feels that he) can go. He cannot save Falin. He's shamed himself as a leader and heir by getting his people killed (they got better, but that's beside the point.) He's been beaten in hand-to-hand combat by this idiot northern peasant. He lets down his guard and pride enough to mutter this self-deprecation aloud...and the idiot northern peasant hears, compounding every shame - and it's infuriating especially because he doesn't even hear properly, just like he never hears properly - he's so frustrating in his friendly but oblivious constant irritation and THIS, Shuro can still be furious about, to avoid his grief/hopelessness/self-loathing/shame. This, he can still fight about!

So he does.

They're both wrong in this fight. They're both right. Laios was consistently inconsiderate; knowing this about himself - because it's not like by his early 20s he didn't know that he didn't Get people the way most people Get people - he should've made more of an effort, and picked up any of the hints Shuro was laying down. Shuro was too caught up in his own pride and out-of-place manners: when it was clear that Laios wasn't going to pick up on even the strongest "hint", he should've said something plainly instead of just letting his resentment build until he was effectively lying to Laios about, if not their entire friendship, certainly the shape of it.

But they were friends. They are friends. This isn't the posture or conversation of two guys who don't like each other.

It's two guys who are still, in fact, fucking exhausted, physically and emotionally - but they just got rid of a lot of extra, furious, helpless energy, so they're finally satisfied to just sit. Their posture is relaxed and casual; their conversation straightforward and companionable, if serious.

This is two guys who've sat like this many time at a campfire, in just these poses. Who've kept watch together late at night and stayed awake by talking.

Laios cares about Falin more than anyone in the world, and even after the words and blows they just exchanged, he's still willing to put Shuro's suit to her. Shuro didn't tell Falin he was interested in her until he proposed to her, but he's telling it all to Laios. Admittedly, this is because Laios is, Shuro assumes, the closest he'll ever get to being able to tell it all to Falin...but still. And he admits vulnerability, which he clearly wouldn't have done before, even to his most loyal and loved companions as they urged him to eat and sleep.

Yeah, they're buddies. If I had to describe it, I'd say: their relationship was built on unsteady, false foundations, but they built something sturdy on it anyway, and the sturdy thing survives even when the foundations shake and re-settle.

Lol at Shuro. "I'm going to report you to the local authorities for your crimes because it's the right thing to do. But if you survive, I'll totally use my power and influence to help you flee the country, and live peacefully on my estate beyond where an extradition treaty can reach you."

[writingquestionsanswered]

I feel like I can write pretty good dialogue between characters, and come up with great plots. But my writing lacks depth and character growth because I struggle with writing descriptive internal dialogue. I feel like this prevents my story from moving forward, even though I have a planned plot and character arcs. Do you have any suggestions for exercising my skills in writing internal dialogue?

Writing Internal Dialogue Monologue

Monologue vs Dialogue - First, I think the labeling is important here.

Dialogue = a conversation between two or more people Monologue = one person talking

Most internal thought is going to be monologue... a person's inner voice processing thoughts and observations... rather than a conversation between a person's inner voice and their opposing inner voice.

When you think of it as "internal monologue" instead, it's sometimes easier to understand what types of things belong there.

Not Everyone Has an Inner Voice - Internal monologue can be tricky for some people to write because not everyone has an inner voice. Some people get mental images instead of an inner voice. Luckily, internal voices aren't hard to understand even if you don't have one yourself.

What Does an Inner Voice Do? - Our inner voices are an ongoing, often subconscious, mental commentary there to help us focus, process, and organize our thoughts and feelings related to our experiences. Internal monologue can include observations about the people and places around us, self-reflection, self-criticism, self-praise, self-motivation, planning/strategizing, processing feelings, recalling memories, and daydreaming.

What Does Internal Dialogue Do? - Internal dialogue usually happens when a character has a mental debate with themselves, such as when they're trying to solve a problem, make a decision, or consider more than one perspective.

What Inner Voice and Internal Dialogue REALLY Do - Inner voice and internal dialogue are both used to convey the character's thoughts to the reader. In third-person, the narrator will do the bulk of the expository work--things like describing people and places, relaying character observations, etc., but character thoughts can be added in italics to give the reader a glimpse inside the character's mind.

The house was dappled with shadows and golden light from the setting sun. It was beautiful and haunting, and it was home. Or it will be, as soon as I move my stuff in...

Alternatively, you can skip the italics and leave it to the narrator to tell the reader what the character is thinking...

The house was dappled with shadows and golden light from the setting sun. It was beautiful and haunting, and it was home. Or it would be, as soon as she moved her stuff in.

In first-person, the POV character is doing all the work... describing people and places, relaying observations, processing thoughts and feelings, recalling memories and having flashbacks... anything that happens inside the character's heart and mind.

The house is dappled with shadows and golden light from the setting sun. It is beautiful and haunting, and it is home... or it will be, as soon as I move my stuff in. My heart fluttered with the joy of possibility, and I aimed a hopeful smile toward the house before climbing back into my car and starting down the driveway. In the fading light, the surrounding woods no longer feel enchanting. I drive a little faster to escape the long shadows and reaching branches.

Don't Overthink It - Too often, the thing that stumps writers about writing inner monologue is feeling like, "I don't sound like this in my head. I wouldn't walk into a room and mentally describe it to myself." And that's fair, because even most people who do have internal monologue don't exactly do that. But remember: you're writing a story. Unlike other mediums, you can't rely on visuals to show the reader what a character is seeing or what a character is thinking about. The only method available to you is to use words to describe those things. Again, in third-person you can rely on the narrator to do the bulk of it, so it doesn't feel as awkward. But in first-person, the POV character IS the narrator, so if you want the reader to know what the room looks like, your primary choice is to have the character mentally describe it to themselves. You can also do a little bit of showing... for example, instead of noting that there's a red velvet couch, they could sit on a red velvet couch, which shows the reader it's there. But, again, mostly they'll mentally describe things to themselves, and as weird as it may feel, it's a necessary part of writing fiction.

I hope this gives you some ideas about how you can use internal monologue (and internal dialogue) to explore your character's thoughts, feelings, observations, problems, etc. to go deeper into who they are, what they want, and what they need.

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[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 3

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, minor political conversation, minor mentions of sexual encounters.

It was the sound of your coffee pot automatically brewing that originally roused you from sleeping, the beeping signalling it was done the reason you finally got out of bed. Traipsing down the stairs still in your silk pj set you yawned, starting to stretch out your body, dropping your phone on the breakfast bar before padding through the living room to open the blinds. The sun slowly rising through the sky and you deemed it warm enough to crack one of the windows, letting yourself actually get some fresh air on a work day. Wandering back to the kitchen you pulled down a coffee mug, adding a bit of creamer from the fridge before filling it with coffee. Right as you went to take your first sip, your phone buzzed on the countertop and you let out a huff, scooping up the device to a text from Heather.

‘You can work from home, it’s a low day.’

‘Thank god. I really didn’t want to put real clothes on.’

‘Well you’ll have to at some point. You’ve got lunch at Old Ebbitt Grill at two.’

‘Who am I schmoozing for you?’

‘Emily Prentiss.’

‘The fed from yesterday? What’d’ you need with the FBI?’

‘She asked to meet with you. You’ll have to discuss it with her.’ ‘Put it on my card.’

‘Alright. Thanks.’

‘Wear that Tom Ford blouse I like so much.’

‘The blue one?’

‘It brings out your eyes.’

‘I’m beginning to think you might have ulterior motives going on here...’

‘Enjoy your lunch.’

You dropped the phone back onto the counter with a huff, knowing you weren’t getting another word out of her on the subject. It wasn’t unlike Heather to send you in to do a certain level of dirty work when it came to getting other politicians to do what she wanted. It was technically part of your job, she would simply just suggest you use your assets in a way she couldn’t to get them to lean her way, and it almost always worked. Still, you couldn’t possibly imagine what a Section Chief from the FBI would want with your skill set, surely the bureau had their own type of publicists to deal with whatever kind of a situation this was.

You glanced to the clock above the stove to find it was barely eight o’clock and nearly debated going back to bed but you knew that was a bad idea and turned to your coffee instead. You thought about what to do for breakfast while you grabbed your work phone and laptop from your bag, setting them up on the breakfast bar before opening the fridge. You settled on some easy eggs and avocado on toast and restarted the coffee machine to brew a fresh pot, turning on an instrumental playlist on your phone to get your day going and your brain running.

Finished with the food, you refilled your coffee and settled in at the counter to start sorting through emails, shooting one off to Heather with reminders of all the upcoming week’s appointments, meetings and appearances. The rest of the morning felt rather dull, the anticipation of lunch piquing your curiosity more often than not, sending you down spirals rather than focusing on your actual work. You caught yourself leafing through FBI websites and any news articles you could get your hands on, and considering the status you held, that was more than the general public.

Finally around eleven thirty your brain couldn’t get through another email and you opted to jump over to the gym for a quick workout to distract yourself for a bit. You left more than enough time to shower, making sure you were fresh and styled, selecting the blue blouse Heather had recommended before finally leaving your house.

Old Ebbitt Grill wasn’t far, it only took you ten minutes to get there, especially considering the lack of midafternoon traffic. You’d been there a few times before, a standard choice for business lunches among the elite of Washington, close enough to Capitol Hill that it was convenient but just far enough away that it was slightly more away from eavesdropping ears. You pulled up the drive in front and were offered valet service that you accepted, passing off a five for a tip before heading inside where you were greeted by a young bubbly hostess.

“Hi,” you smiled back, “reservation at two, could be under Walton, Prentiss or Dunbar. I think it’s only for two.”

Her finger began scanning through the reservation look in search of one of the names, “oh! There you are.” She beamed up at you, “Walton for two. You’re the first to arrive, would you like to wait or be seated?”

“I’ll sit.” You laughed softly, “god knows I could use a drink.”                                                    

“Of course, right this way.”

You were led past the bar area to the dining room and directed to a green velvet back booth, white table cloth adorning the table. You slid in as the hostess scooped up the extra place settings and wine glasses,

“Can I get something started for you?”

“Uh… two waters and a glass of pinot grigio would be fantastic, thanks.”

With another smile she was gone from the table and you were left to settle in, glancing at your watch you realized you were practically twenty minutes early and let out a soft sigh. Punctuality was almost too much of your strong point, but at least you were never late for things. You scanned the menu quickly, sliding it off to the side to pull out a work file that you’d been putting off looking through, thanking the server that came back with your drinks.

*

When Emily entered the restaurant she wasn’t entirely too sure what she was getting into, it almost felt weird to be doing this during the day, especially on what was technically a work day. She’d gotten an out of office lunch and work from home afternoon approved so she didn’t have to drive back, and it was Friday so she just kept telling herself it was an early weekend. The hostess picked up right away that she was meeting someone and offered up your last name to confirm before guiding her through the room.

The moment they were through the bar Emily had eyes on you, neatly tucked into a booth, a pen in your hand and a file folder in front of you that all your attention was focused on. Your hair was pulled back off your face but most of it still down and loosely styled. The make up on your face was slightly more detailed than it had been when she’d met you at the office, a little heavier around the eyes, a slightly less neutral lip. Your outfit hugged your frame, accentuating your body perfectly, blue top dipping slightly to expose a tasteful amount of cleavage, black pencil skirt leaving just enough leg out to be admired, and of course designer heels on your feet. It was all accented with a silver bracelet, necklace resting on the swell of your chest and jeweled earrings to match your shirt. You glanced up at the movement coming toward you, a smile taking over your face as you greeted her.

“Agent Prentiss,” you smiled as she slipped into the booth, “or, is that a demotion? Should it be Section Chief Prentiss?”

“That’s way too much of a mouthful.” She laughed, “just Emily’s fine.”

“Alright.” You shot her a grin, flipping the file shut and capping the pen before you slid it back into your purse, “sorry, work never ends.”

“I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?” While she was concerned she may have been late, she was happy to see that you were completely content on your own, and that you took work on the go, already another green flag in her book.

“Oh not at all, I have a habit of being insanely early wherever I go.”

There was a slight pause as the server came over to ask about drinks and Emily glanced towards you, your eyes flicked to your half empty glass and you thought about it for a second.

“You may as well bring another one.”

“Heather okay with you drinking on the clock?” Emily asked with a small grin.

“Have you met a politician who doesn’t?” You laughed, “you know… I think that’s the biggest difference between our branches of government, you’re usually armed. The only weapons we carry are our words and nefarious blackmail.”

Emily chuckled at that, watching as you took a sip, “well I took a half day.” She turned to the server, “I’ll have a sauvignon blanc please.”

A few moments later they returned with Emily’s wine and the two of you placed an order for a round of appetizers consisting of scallops, beet and burrata, calamari and the bread service. Conversation flowed easily enough, chatting here and there about the day, how the weather seemed to finally be warm enough to enjoy being outside, little tidbits about work. Emily found joy in the fact that you could keep up with her when she mentioned work, that it didn’t take an extra three tangents of explaining details for you to understand what she meant. By the time the food came out, the two of you were fully comfortable around each other and after a bite of a scallop, you decided to make the jump to attempt to get to the point.

“So, I know I’ve heard that the BAU’s in a bit of hot water right now, but I didn’t think you needed a full PR takeover. Don’t you have your own communications team for those kind of things?”

Emily stalled, quickly popping a piece of calamari into her mouth to spare her a few seconds to figure out how to start things. “Uhm….” She swallowed the food down, chuckling awkwardly, “that’s not exactly why I wanted to meet. Heather… recommended you for something else.”

“Ah…” You leant back against the booth, your elbow draping over the back of it, “I knew Heather had ulterior motives about today but I didn’t realize she was passing me off to utilize the extra skill set.” You chuckled, having now figured out exactly what Emily was alluding to, but you weren’t going to let her off that easy, you wanted to hear her say it. The corner of your lips twitched up at the way she tensed across the table from you and you went in with another tease and false lead. “You want to know what other PR teams I’m close with, whose assistants have loose lips or an axe to grind, dig up a little dirt on someone. Director Bailey? AG? Who’s the thorn in your side, hmm?”

The knot in her stomach burst at the latter part of your sentence, suddenly distracted she glanced up at you with a furrowed brow, “wait, you could really get in with the AG for me?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded over a sip of wine, “she thinks she’s a good friend, would you like me to do some nosing around?”

“No, no.” She waved you off, “that could get you in trouble.”

“Emily, believe me, with most of them all you need is a few too many glasses of wine, a little flattery, maybe a hint of an illegal substance and they’ll tell you whatever you want.”

She let out a low laugh, “I’m going to ignore that last part.” You chuckled as she picked up her wine, taking another sip while you scooped up another scallop. “You certainly have some kind of pedigree, don’t you?”

“I had a lot of ladders to climb to get where I am now, and a decent education and quick thinking always helps.”

“Was PR always the goal, or did you have your eye on Capitol Hill?” She asked and you nearly snorted.

“Where I am is where I want to be. Communications Major at UCONN, followed by a stint at Georgetown.”

“What does a ‘stint’ consist of?” She asked with a raised brow.

“Just a little law degree, never really intended to use it just wanted the knowledge.”

“Did you write the bar?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded, taking another sip of wine, “passed with flying colours. Just never really saw myself as a lawyer, fighting in courtrooms isn’t my style.”

“So why bother with the extra three years then?”

You shrugged, “Heather paid for it. Said if I was overqualified for a role I could bargain for better pay.”

“Wow…” Emily’s eyes widened, “she must really like you.”

“We’ve known each other a long time. She always knew she wanted me working for her in some capacity and she needed someone who she could trust, someone who was going to know what they were doing and was right for the field. When you work for Dunbar you have to fit the brand. Now making sure that brand is upheld is my job, she had to start with someone.”

“You enjoy working for her? She’s a good boss?”

“Are you kidding me?” You laughed, “being on her payroll is better than any other politician in the country, maybe even the world. She has a much higher level of expectations that always need to be met, she knows quality, she knows class and she demands it out of everyone. So she supplements with extras to make sure we know how appreciated we are and to keep us loyal.”

“Sounds like she knows what she’s doing.”

“She always does.” You leant forward, bracing your elbow on the table so your chin could rest in the palm of your hand, “which is why I know whatever she suggested I help you with is exactly what you need. But I’m starting to feel like I have to sign an NDA to even have this conversation.”

Emily sucked in a deep breath letting out a sigh before reaching for her wine glass, “well… I am hoping for a certain level of discretion and the previous couple of times I’ve tried this it didn’t exactly work in my favour.” She glanced back across the table to find your head still perched on your hand, eyes full of curiosity as you looked back at her and she nearly gulped.

“Do tell… what is it you want from me Agent Prentiss?” Your voice was lowered, both an attempt to get her to own up and to make sure you weren’t overheard, “I work in PR, I know how to uphold an image and believe me, I know how to keep a secret.”

She swallowed down a gulp of wine before slowly beginning to speak, “I’m… looking for someone who is willing to spend a night or two a week together, could be friendly company, could be more if you’re comfortable. And I’m willing to pay.” She winced, suddenly stopping herself, “wait, that sounded bad.”

You chuckled softly, smiling across the table at her to urge her to continue.

“Basically, I’ve got a bit of spare time and extra finances. I need someone who understands I can’t always be around, that work can and will upend plans constantly and suddenly. Someone who values privacy. I don’t have time to do the whole dating thing, the strings that come along with that.”

“Casual intimacy in exchange for fancy dinners, pricey jewels and lavish vacations?” You murmured softly, your head tilting in her direction and she nodded, “well… now we’re finally on the same page.”

“And you’re comfortable with that?”

Your eyes slowly raked over her, taking in her beauty, a small grin on your lips as you nodded, “Mmhm.”

“And the stipulations that come along with my work?”

“Not an issue. As you know, I have my own career and working for Heather can be a twenty four seven, seven days a week job and similar to yours, it includes a lot of travel. Discretion is easily attainable and I know how to uphold a certain image.”

“Good.” She let out a low huff of a laugh, “the last couple of dates I went on before this were garbage.”

“Mmm… I think you likely got caught with the ‘professional’ babies… they don’t want to work; they just want to get paid for being hot.” You rolled your eyes, “they don’t care about careers, they want to be center of attention at all times.”

“And lord knows I don’t have the time or patience for any of that.”

Before you could reply your phone began a series of buzzes on the table top, your eyes flicking to the lit screen and you sighed, “hold on, it’s Heather.” You picked up the device to swipe open the text chain, half muttering to yourself, “bitch said I could work from home today but god knows I can’t go twenty four hours without having to put out a fire.”

“Duty calls?” Emily asked with a near grin, watching as you finished your wine.

“Unfortunately.” You cast a smile in her direction, “and right as we were getting to the good part, sorry.”

“No apology necessary, go. I’ll take care of this.” She gestured to the table.

“Are you sure?”

“All things considered; I think it’s my responsibility.”

“Right.” You laughed softly, popping your phone back into your purse as you slid out of the booth, “you have my number?”

“I do.” She nodded, “I’ll make a reservation for next Friday, we can do dinner and discuss this further?”

“Of course.” You smiled at her, “I’ll see you Friday Emily.”

_______________

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[dinocanid]

The voluntary/involuntary debate (-is making me lose my mind)

I don't see anyone saying this, but something being missed in the whole "therianthropy (and otherkinity) is completely involuntary!" conversation is that so much of the argument is overcorrection, and it's being treated as a binary when the lines are all grey. Which makes the constant back and forth feel very tiring.

First: context

10-ish years ago (even today in some crotchety circles), therianthropy-focused spaces were chomping at the bit to "weed out the fluff" due to the surrounding alt culture at the time (teen wolves) and the release of a few documentaries that many considered quite cringe-y and embarrassing. They went "oh god, we can't be associate with those weird people" and, while that wasn't the only contributor to the gatekeeping and grilling culture at the time, it was a significant one. So any new therians hoping to join communities were often grilled the hell out of, because people wanted to check if they were ""real"" therians and not those "fluffy teen werewolves" on TV. Therianthropy wasn't a game or a trend, it's a part of you, which is true. But "it's not a game" got bastardized into "it's involuntary" due to overcorrection and a lack of preserving nuance. Regardless if you think you were born a therian or if someone goes "I really want to be a [nonhuman animal]" and starts to embrace that identity, that's still therianthropy. "I want to be this, therefore I'm going to be this, and I am this" is still therianthropy.

This problem isn't unique to therianthropy either, "otherkinity must be involuntary" is also a result of overcorrection, more specifically due to the ableism and damage kinnie culture has done to the fictionkin community. Dragonheart Collective wrote a concise essay on this, so I will link that [right here] rather than repeat things, other than I have noticed "voluntary" be conflated with "kinnie" when it should not be. "Being kin isn't just relating to or liking something" got bastardized into "otherkinity is involuntary" by the community. Regardless if you think you were born otherkin or if someone goes "I really want to be a [character or nonhuman creature]" and starts to embrace that identity, that's still otherkinity "I want to be this, therefore I'm going to be this, and I am this" is still otherkinity.

Second: nuance.

No, involuntary doesn't inherently mean "it's a game". What counts as voluntary or involuntary is so blurry that a common conclusion can rarely even be reached on what it means. Things that have been seen considered voluntary:

Noticing the identity and choosing to embrace it versus shove it down and dismiss it

Waking up one day

Really wanting to be something and deciding to embrace it, versus dismissing it

Was born with the identity but picks and chooses which parts they prefer to focus on and explore

etc. along the above lines

And these are all perfectly fine ways of experiencing therianthropy and otherkinity, people have been having experiences like that for years. This is completely normal and nothing new and it's so tiring seeing people point fingers at places that these things didn't even come from, like TikTok.

"But what about linking then?"

This debate is much older than "-linking" terminology, which in and of itself is a product of this very debate. People made new words because so many were arguing if someone's identity is real if it originates in a particular way. This doesn't change how "-link" terminology should be used today, but it is worth noting that those are perfectly normal ways to experience otherkinity and therianthropy even if these other terms exist. It means you can use whichever personally feels best to you. It does not mean that people need to be shoved out of the non-link labels.

[oswildin]

Debated making this, but oh well, here we are…

I rewatched the Loki series.

Going to add here quickly that I have been a fan of Loki since 2012/2013, and I personally relate to his character for a multitude of reasons.

Now, I enjoy the series, but I wish they made it more character focused than they had. I do feel like they prioritised story in terms of making it fit the next phase over exploring and expanding on Loki’s character to some degree (a lot of it was surface level).

For example, I would’ve loved to have seen:

Exploring Loki’s Jotun heritage, even if it was a variant of him in the void that embraced it, dropped his aesir form, a conversation between Loki and his Jotun variant as they explain why they chose to embrace it, giving a different view to maybe how our Loki sees himself/the Jotuns. If ‘What If’ could have a frost giant Loki variant, why couldn’t the show?

Expanding upon what happened to Loki during that year after his fall from the Bifrost. The reason for this is self explanatory really, it would add more lore/depth to his experiences/actions during the Avengers. Maybe address the trauma he has from it.

Loki fighting with his so-called ‘desire’ for a throne more. By this I mean, I felt he flipped pretty quickly from his plan to overthrow the time keepers to just following along with Sylvie - which is fine, but I kinda thought there would be more push back from him. I get it was a life or death situation and Loki’s whole thing is ‘survival’, but it would’ve added to their dynamic and the fact the writers clearly wanted to push how Sylvie was different to other Loki’s.

Exploring Sylvie’s backstory more. It really did feel like it was an afterthought, which is a shame. I suppose they left it ambiguous for certain reasons, but I think they should’ve had more flashback scenes of what Sylvie could remember. I think it would’ve helped people understand and relate to her more. (I do love her though).

Actually showed Loki’s gender fluidity & shapeshifting ability more. Again, self explanatory really & important to his character, plus the whole implied only ‘woman variant’ thing with Sylvie should’ve not been a thing, like at all.

They should’ve given Loki more time to process everything. This show really should’ve had 8 episodes each season, I get that’s not the writers fault, likely Disney/marvel’s doing. Perhaps then the shift in his character wouldn’t have felt so jarring, especially considering he’s 2012 Loki. I do agree they wrote him as if he was Ragnarok!Loki, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it just felt jarring considering the last we saw of this Loki was Avengers. But then I could also argue that maybe he thought ‘what’s the point of it’ because the TVA know everything about him, but I digress.

Used Sylvie more in S2. It did feel like they didn’t quite know what to do with her, her and Loki clearly just needed to sit and discuss the citadel fight, but the closest thing we got is in EP3 where Sylvie says ‘this is all rather familiar, isn’t it?’, referencing their different/opposing opinions on the TVA/He Who Remains. And also maybe the pie room scene, but it’s very vague/not directly addressed.

Explored the fact that Mobius is not a good guy more. Because, he isn’t. And that’s okay. To me, the whole point of the show is based on Loki’s quote of ‘no one good is ever truly good, and no one bad is ever truly bad’, and whilst they do reference Mobius’ own morally grey actions/traits, they don’t particularly make it clear and most just see him as this ‘happy go lucky old man who likes pie and loves Loki variants’. In fact, I actually really liked the scene where Sylvie confronts him - which is a very unpopular opinion to have it seems, lol.

Delved into the psychology of Loki further than surface level/what we already know about him. Yes, we know he’s the God of Mischief. Yes, we know he isn’t evil. Yes, we know he is redeemable. Yes, we know he’s cunning, manipulative and selfish. We get that he projects this ‘illusion’ of himself, but it was only really mentioned in S1 EP1, maybe slightly EP2, before it’s never really mentioned again. I suppose S2 does this to a degree with the bar scene and EP5 of S1 in the time cell with Sif - also I think they tried to take the narcissist angle from the pov that it’s because of his low self-esteem as to why he needs validation and it’s a defence mechanism, but they didn’t particularly make that clear and made it seem like he just thinks highly of himself.

I know it seems like I have a lot of issues with the show, and I do, but I still enjoyed it. It’s okay to be critical of a piece of media and still enjoy it.

I do prefer S2 to S1, mostly because I prefer the direction they took it in and whilst I, of course, wanted better for Loki, I can’t deny S2 EP6 is a stunning finale. I sobbed so hard during the ending and still feel the grief that I actually lost someone I knew personally. But I also have hope that this means Loki is now a main player in the next phase (am I delusional? Maybe).

I enjoyed the dynamics, the back and forth/chemistry, the story was interesting, the set & costume design, the acting, the directing/colour grading, the music (Natalie Holt, you are genius), the emotions, the fun, the characters…

So this is not a hate post by any means, I will once again state, I enjoyed the show. But, I do have issues with it, and that’s okay too.

Please, dni if you’re just going to be argumentative or confrontational. I also don’t want to hear that just because I enjoyed the show that I’m ‘not a real fan’ lmao. I’m sorry, but I’ve been a Loki stan for over a decade, and I will not have someone tell me I’m not a real fan because of a piece of fictional media. Also, please do not mention anything regarding ships on this post, I do not care for it because it always ends up in arguments and I am a multishipper so I don’t tend to fight for any side. Thank you! :) /gen

[seongwars]

away with the wind | x

Pairing: dragonrider!Seonghwa x ex-dragonrider!Reader AU: dragon rider au | strangers -> lovers Summary: a spinal injury forces you to retire from dragon racing, and with it, the end of your engagement to Song Mingi. Park Seonghwa, a rising star in the world of dragon racing and heir to the prestigious House Park, seeks a new dragon after an unfortunate accident on the skyway. As the saying goes, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Word Count: 5.2K Warnings: poor use of biology and science terms, mentions of child abduction, dragon poop (because I'm immature)

a/n: finally no more filler chapters

Fic Masterlist

The grand chambers of the capitol building echoed with the weight of authority. High lords, resplendent in their embroidered robes and suits, gathered in the chambers set for another day of debate. Yunho rushed past the oncoming crowd, his footsteps a hurried staccato against the marble floor. He weaved through the throng of lords and officials, his eyes fixed on his destination. With a quick, practiced motion, he handed Seonghwa the agenda of the day before bowing out, his duty fulfilled for the moment.

Amidst the orderly chaos, a cry pierced the air. “My son, please help me find my son!” The voice was raw, breaking with emotion. A man, disheveled and desperate, moved through the crowd, his eyes wide with panic. He approached every assembly member and lord he encountered as they passed through the rotunda, but they all brushed past him, too engrossed in their own affairs to notice his plight.

Ham Jinsu was frantic and desperate. He moved through the corridors with a sense of urgency, his hands trembling slightly as he clutched a photograph of his missing son. His voice, though breaking with emotion, carried a determined plea for help. The lines on his face deepened with each passing moment, reflecting the weight of his fear and the depth of his love for his child.

“Please sir, my son is missing!” he implored, his voice echoing off the grand pillars and high ceilings.

A lord brushed past him, bumping his shoulder without a single look. The indifference stung, but Jinsu pressed on, his desperation giving him strength.

“My son is missing, I need help. Please, anyone!” he cried out again, his voice growing hoarse.

Yet his pleas fell on deaf ears. The assembly members and lords continued their march towards the chambers, their minds occupied with the day’s agenda, oblivious to the man’s suffering. Jinsu’s heart ached with each step he took, the photograph in his hand a constant reminder of his missing child. The grand hall, with all its splendor and authority, felt cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the warmth and love he sought to reclaim.

“I see Lady Lee is here today,” Seonghwa said quietly to Lord Kim as they observed the assembly room, his eyes discreetly following Lady Lee’s entrance.

Lord Kim glanced in her direction and raised an eyebrow. “That she is.” 

Seonghwa shifted his gaze back to Sangjoong, his curiosity evident. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask—what was the nature of your conversation with Lady Lee the other day? You mentioned she had personal matters to attend to.”

“Indeed. She was rather vague about the details of these ‘personal matters.’ What struck me as odd was how emphatic she was about their urgency. It seemed rather out of character for her, considering her usual commitment to events that align with her interests.”

“It does seem peculiar. I wonder if there might be more to her absence than she let on. Her sudden, unexplained absence from such an important gathering certainly raises questions,” Seonghwa observed. 

Lord Kim’s gaze drifted back to Lady Lee, who was now engaging in animated conversation with another member of the Assembly. “Perhaps. It’s worth keeping an eye on her. Sometimes, what seems like a simple excuse can be a cover for more significant matters.”

The chamber’s air was charged with the weight of the day’s agenda, a pivotal decision that could shape the future of their society. Madame President Jung, a figure of calm authority, stood at the podium, her gaze sweeping over the assembly.

“What do we have before us today, Lady Lee?”

“Madame President, esteemed colleagues,” Lady Lee began, her tone resolute and clear, “We stand at a critical juncture in our efforts to advance dragon behavior research and ensure the safety and well-being of both our dragons and their riders. The recent incident at the Inferno Cup has underscored the urgent need for innovative solutions to address behavioral issues that can arise in these magnificent creatures.”

She paused briefly, allowing her words to resonate. The Assembly’s members shifted in their seats, clearly engaged as Lady Lee continued.

“Today I propose we bring Cromer Labs on board in the proposal process,” she announced confidently, her voice carrying across the hall.

The Assembly responded with a mix of murmurs; some lords nodded in agreement, while others exchanged skeptical glances. Lord Kim locked eyes with Seonghwa who had been quietly observing from his seat. With a look of deep concern, Seonghwa suddenly rose to his feet.

“Do you have something to say, Lord Park?” Madame Jung inquired. 

“I do, Madame President. Colleagues,” Seonghwa began, his voice resonating with conviction, “we cannot, in good conscience, align ourselves with an organization so novel that it seeks to overshadow the millennia of knowledge and ethical standards upheld by the Institute.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in. Lady Lee’s face flushed with a mix of frustration and disbelief. 

“Lord Park, while I respect your opinion, Cromer Labs has shown remarkable innovation. We need fresh perspectives to tackle the challenges we face.”

Seonghwa met her gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Innovation is crucial, Lady Lee, but so is experience and ethical integrity. The Institute has a proven track record of balancing progress with the well-being of dragons. They are the better option for guiding us through this transition.”

Lady Lee took a deep breath, her initial frustration giving way to a more measured tone. “I understand your concerns, Lord Park. Yet, we must also consider the potential benefits that Cromer Labs offers. Their pioneering methods and technologies have the potential to significantly enhance safety and management practices. We cannot overlook the advancements they bring to the table.”

Seonghwa remained unfazed, his expression as cold as ever. “And what might those advancements be?” 

Lady Lee’s eyes flashed with malice. “Cromer Labs offers us a chance to break free from their outdated methods and truly advance. Their genetic research holds the potential to significantly reduce the incidence of hereditary diseases and other health issues that currently affect our dragons. This could lead to a healthier population overall, which also means healthier temperaments.”

"And what is it that Cromer Labs can do that the Institute cannot?" he asked, his tone laced with skepticism. Are you so eager to embrace Cromer's methods because the Institute's standards are too... antiquated for your tastes? Or is it simply that you have a personal, vested interest?"

As Seonghwa's words lingered, the rest of the high lords and ladies shifted uneasily. A few exchanged uneasy glances, while others murmured in hushed tones, the tension in the room palpable. Lady Lee's eyes blazed with fury, and she opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, Madame Jung brought the hammer down onto the gavel. 

"Perhaps this discussion is better suited for another time," Madame Jung interjected, her voice soothing as she gave Seonghwa a pointed look. "We have many matters to attend to today, and I'm sure we all want to ensure that our priorities remain aligned."

Seonghwa simply leaned back in his chair, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips, satisfied that he'd achieved exactly what he intended.

With Yunho’s task completed, he took the opportunity to take a breather, his shoulders easing as the weight of responsibility momentarily lifted. The capitol building, usually a place where he felt the constant press of duty, seemed almost distant now–it was a place of wealth and power, a world where appearances mattered more than substance.

Yet, even as he observed this, something pulled his attention away from the hollowness of his settings. A distress call. Without a second thought, Yunho moved toward the man, his long strides purposeful. As he approached, he noticed the tremor in the man's hands, the way his breath hitched with every sob. This was no ordinary outcry—this was a father's grief, raw and unfiltered.

“Excuse me sir? Is your son missing?”

“Yes!” he choked out, his voice breaking. “Yes, m-my son Jinsik has gone missing!” The words tumbled out in a rush, as he gathered himself before the handler. “He was last seen at the skyway—he’s training to be a rider!”

“A rider? Did he want to pursue a career in racing?” Yunho's mind raced as he processed the urgency of the situation. Yet, in Jinsu's trembling form and tear-streaked face, Yunho recognized a father's determination and the sheer desperation of a man clinging to hope.

“He was a student at the academy and was recruited by Cromer Labs! They were covering his training expenses and even provided him with a dragon. Here’s his photo!” 

Yunho took the photo carefully, his eyes scanning the image of a young boy with a bright, hopeful smile. The boy’s face was full of promise, a future ahead of him that had been cruelly snatched away. But what truly caught Yunho’s attention was the mention of Cromer Labs.

“Come with me,” Yunho said quietly, slipping the photograph back into the man’s hands and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. His voice was low, meant only for the man’s ears, as he guided him away. “There’s someone who might be able to help.”

The weight of the day’s endless meetings, tiresome discussions, and layers of bureaucracy clung to Seonghwa like an unwelcome shadow. His head ached from the sheer monotony of it all—the endless back-and-forth over trivial matters, the careful balancing of politics, the feigned interest in matters that bored him.

Swinging the door open, his plans for solitude were quickly dashed–he found Yunho and a disheveled man sitting there, waiting for him. 

“You’re back!” Yunho’s voice cut through the silence, relief evident in his tone as he stood up. 

“I’m back,” he confirmed, his gaze shifting from Yunho to the stranger sitting beside him. “And this is…?”

“Y-You’re Park Seonghwa,” Jinsu stammered, his voice trembling with a mix of nerves and admiration. “The Park Seonghwa. I never thought… I never imagined I’d be sitting here, in front of you!”

Seonghwa, who was used to such reactions, offered a small, almost weary smile. “Well,” he drawled, leaning back against the doorframe with a raised eyebrow, “this is certainly not what I expected to find when I returned. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Ah, this is Ham Jinsu,” Yunho explained, his voice taking on a more serious note. “He needs our help.”

Seonghwa’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze shifting to Jinsu, who was now clutching a photograph. “My son, Jinsik, was training to be a rider,” he added. “He’s been following your career since you started all those years ago. He idolized you. Wanted to be just like you.”

He took a step closer, his eyes fixed on the photograph Jinsu held. “May I?” he asked gently, reaching out. Jinsu hesitated for a moment before handing over the picture, his hands shaking slightly.

“We couldn’t afford to send him to a traditional training center or hire a trainer. That’s when Cromer Labs stepped in and recruited him from the academy. They covered the training fees, and even provided him with a dragon that he kept boarded at their facility. He was last seen at the skyway just before it closed.” 

“Cromer Labs,” Seonghwa repeated, his voice carefully controlled, though there was an edge to it. Seonghwa recalled his conversation with you about Cromer Labs and how they had engaged Mingi in the same process 10 years ago.

“Did the lab expect anything in return? Was there anything unusual about his training?”

Jinsu shook his head. “No… He was so excited about the opportunity. He mentioned that if he completed his training and passed the final trial, they’d sponsor him. It seemed like everything he ever wanted, and he worked hard to prove himself.”

“And no one saw him after the skyway closed?” Seonghwa asked, his tone probing gently but firmly. His instincts told him that there was more to this situation as he and Yunho exchanged looks. 

“Nothing,” Jinsu replied, his voice breaking slightly. “It’s like he just vanished.”

“There could be more at play here,” Yunho commented, his voice steady as he turned back to Jinsu. “Are you aware of other missing children?”

Jinsu shook his head. “Not that I know of. But if I do I’ll be sure to let you know,” he sighed, tightening his grip on the photograph. “This means so much to my family, your grace. I can’t thank you enough for your support.” 

Seonghwa’s gaze softened slightly, though his mind remained focused. “We’ll do everything we can to find Jinsik. If you think of anything else, no matter how small, please let us know immediately. Every detail could be important.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much, your grace,” Jinsu nodded vigorously, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of hope after what seemed like an eternity. 

For both Seonghwa and Yunho, the gravity of the situation was clear, and both understood that the investigation into Jinsik’s disappearance would likely lead them into dangerous and uncharted territory.

“Cromer Labs,” Seonghwa muttered, his arms crossed. “Lady Lee just so happened to try and convince the rest of the Assembly to work with them in the proposal process for the behavioral study.”

Yunho’s eyes narrowed, his expression growing more serious. “Do you think there’s a link with Jinsik’s disappearance?”

Seonghwa sighed deeply, his fingers pressing into his temples as if to ward off the mounting tension. “It might explain why she wasn’t at the gala or General Choi’s birthday celebration. Her absence wasn’t just coincidental,” he muttered, more to himself than to Yunho. “But there’s still nothing connecting her with Cromer Labs or Jinsik—not yet, at least. I should probably swing by the Institute.”

Yunho tilted his head, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Why the sudden rush?” he asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

Seonghwa shot him a look, though there was no real heat behind it. “I need to loop Hongjoong in on this.”

“Uh-huh. You mean, “Kim Hongjoong who only goes home once a month and is going to ask you to return all the overdue scrolls you’ve borrowed”, Kim Hongjoong.”

“This is about work, Yunho. There are serious things at play.”

Yunho rolled his eyes, understanding Seonghwa’s true intentions. “Y/N is not going to be happy if you show up unannounced. She has an actual job that requires her full undivided attention. It’s not like she’s just sitting around waiting for you to show up.”

“Go away,” you said, not bothering to look up as you typed furiously. Your voice was muffled by the sea of papers on your desk.

“But it’s important!” Seonghwa pleaded, his tone a mix of frustration and playful annoyance. He leaned against the doorframe, watching you with a frown. This wasn’t the Park Seonghwa you were accustomed to, and it was probably your fault for indulging him the night of General Choi’s celebration.

You paused for a moment, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you considered whether or not to entertain him. “What?”

“Come with me to see Hongjoong,” he pleaded, his eyes searching yours for any willingness.

“Are you serious right now?” you retorted, eyes narrowing as you considered the interruption. “I’m sifting through six months of work because someone begged me to train him. I don’t have the luxury of assisting you on your side quests.”

“But you could,” he pouted slightly, crossing his arms defensively.

“Could I now?” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your words. “I can think of someone else who might want to hear about your ‘important’ mission.” Without warning you wheeled your swivel chair away from your desk and stuck your head out into the hallway. 

“Wooyoung! Wooyoung, Lord Park is here to see you!” Your voice echoed down the hall, and you knew it would carry straight to your boss’s office. It was times like these that you were grateful for his open door policy. 

Seonghwa’s eyes widened in panic, and he straightened up, looking genuinely alarmed. “No, please! Don’t do that!”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to have you here. You know how he loves to dig into your personal life.” You smirked, enjoying his reaction.

Seonghwa’s expression softened, a sheepish grin creeping onto his face. “Alright, I get it. I’ll back off,” he said, raising his hands up in defense. “But there is something you should know.”

“And what’s that?” You asked, your playful demeanor quickly fading. 

Seonghwa glanced out the door as if making sure no one else was around to overhear. Then, he leaned in slightly, his voice low. “You’ll find out if you go down to the archives with me.”

“Fine,” you muttered, feeling the last of your resistance crumble. As you followed him out, you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly you were getting yourself into this time—and why, despite the nagging voice of caution in the back of your mind, you were looking forward to finding out.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hongjoong muttered, clearly unimpressed by the unexpected visitor. His eyes narrowed as he scanned Seonghwa’s face, then shifted to you. “Last I checked, a Lord should not be shirking his duties to the people of Aurora.” 

“There’s a first time for everything. Besides, I thought you might want to hear something.” 

“And you couldn’t just send me a message like a normal person? What, did you need an audience or something?”

“It’s about Cromer Labs.”

You and Hongjoong exchanged a glance, both of you immediately sensing the gravity of the situation. You could feel a knot tightening in your stomach, a creeping sense of anxiety at what Seonghwa had to share.

His expression was grim, his usual confident demeanor overshadowed by the weight of the news he was about to deliver. “A student recruited by the lab has gone missing,” he said, his voice low and serious.

“Missing?” Hongjoong repeated, his tone laced with suspicion. “For how long?” His eyes narrowed, and you saw his jaw clench slightly as he processed the information. 

“Right before the skyway closed,” Seonghwa replied, his gaze shifting between the two of you. “His name is Ham Jinsik. He was recruited under the pretense of becoming a rider. They gave him a dragon and were training him. But one day, he just… vanished. No one’s seen or heard from him since.”

You felt a chill run down your spine, the implications of Seonghwa’s words sinking in. “A child has gone missing and no one’s done anything about it? How is that possible?”

Seonghwa shook his head, his frustration clear. “His father has been desperately trying to get anyone to listen. He showed up at the Assembly today, but he was rebuffed until Yunho ran into him. What’s even more troubling is that his father mentioned something about a trial.”

You stared at Seonghwa, your concern quickly morphing into anger. “A trial? Cromer Labs is running trials on minors now?” you demanded, your voice seething with fury. “Did the father say anything else?”

Seonghwa shook his head, his expression troubled. “No, not much. He mentioned that Jinsik would receive full sponsorship once he completed it. The details were sparse, and he looked like he was barely holding it together.”

Your anger only intensified, a seething fury bubbling just beneath the surface. The gravity of the situation hit you with full force, and you struggled to keep your voice steady. “What else?” you pressed. “There must be more to this.”

Seonghwa hesitated for a moment, clearly sensing your growing frustration. “Lady Lee was pushing hard for Cromer Labs to lead the behavioral research project,” he finally added. “She made a presentation to the full Assembly earlier today.”

The revelation struck you, and you took a moment to process the connection. “So get us an in with the lab,” you suggested. The idea had struck you suddenly, the connection between Lady Lee and the Cromer Labs was too significant to ignore. It wasn’t just a coincidence—it was a potential opening, a narrow window that could lead you closer to the truth.

But before you could even finish the thought, Hongjoong’s eyes widened, and he shot you a look that was equal parts disbelief and concern. “Are you crazy?” he blurted out, the words escaped him before he could temper his tone. “Do you even know what you’re asking? Getting close to her could be dangerous—no, it will be dangerous.”

“It’s a viable plan,” you countered, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed the uncertainty you were trying to suppress. “And I’m not saying it’s without risk. But we can’t afford to keep chasing our tails when we have all the pieces right before us. If Lady Lee is our way into the lab, we have to take a chance,” you pressed on, feeling the weight of the decision settle on your shoulders. “Especially when missing children are involved.”

Seonghwa nodded in agreement, his expression growing more resolute. “If Cromer Labs is as involved as we suspect, every moment we delay could be critical. We need to act on this opportunity,” he finally said.

The archives fell into a tense silence as Hongjoong considered Seonghwa’s words. His expression shifted from frustration to reluctant agreement. “Do either of you have a plan?”

“Seonghwa should charm his way into Lady Lee’s good graces,” you suggested, your tone practical and decisive as you turned to face him. “Approach her with a request to open up a tour of the facility—something that seems entirely plausible and public facing.”

Seonghwa made a face, one that mixed both skepticism and mild distaste. “I’d rather not, but it would give us an opportunity to gather more information without arousing suspicion.”

“You’ll need to do more than just flatter her. We’ll have to provide compelling reasons why a tour of the facility would be beneficial for her. Play it up with the rest of the Assembly,” Hongjoong added, his expression thoughtful. 

“And then what?” Seonghwa asked. 

“The public gains access to the facility,” you explained. “We’ll blend in with the crowd and use the opportunity to gather as much information as we can. Our goal is to identify key areas of interest, such as restricted zones or locations where sensitive activities might be taking place.”

Seonghwa’s expression shifted from skepticism to determination, signaling his readiness to tackle the challenge ahead. “Well then, I guess we’ll have to play our parts convincingly then.”

“Lord Park Seonghwa is requesting a meeting with you, my lady.”

Lady Lee glanced up from her work, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. “Lord Park, you say?” She tapped her chin thoughtfully with her pen, considering the implications of such a request. “Very well. Send him in.”

As Seonghwa entered Lady Lee's office, he offered a courteous bow before taking a seat across from her. “Lady Lee, thank you for meeting with me today,” he began, his tone carefully measured.

Lady Lee acknowledged him with a nod, her curiosity piqued. “Of course, Lord Park. What brings you here?”

Seonghwa took a deep breath, his expression a practiced blend of professionalism and feigned humility. “ I wanted to take this moment to address the recent debate we had. I realize it might have seemed more confrontational than I intended. I apologize if it caused any frustration or misunderstanding.”

“I appreciate your candor. Though I assume it is the nature of being a fledgling Lord?” Lady Lee raised an eyebrow, momentarily caught off guard by his directness. 

Seonghwa smiled, his demeanor composed. “It’s certainly true that the role can sometimes lead to passionate discussions. Nevertheless, I believe it’s important to address any concerns directly and with respect. I hope we can move past any previous tensions.”

Lady Lee nodded, her curiosity shifting back to the current discussion. “Very well. What is it you wish to discuss today?”

“I’ve taken your presentation during the Assembly today into consideration. Upon further reflection, I find your proposal quite compelling,” Seonghwa began, his tone both measured and thoughtful. He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in before continuing. 

“I propose that a public tour of the facility could provide valuable exposure for Cromer Labs and highlight the significant advancements being made there. This initiative could foster a stronger connection with the community, showcasing the lab’s commitment to innovation and excellence.”

He gauged Lady Lee’s reaction, noting her thoughtful expression. With a smooth transition, he continued, “Moreover, such a tour could serve as an educational opportunity, inspiring future generations of scientists and researchers. It would also allow the Assembly to address any public concerns directly, building trust and support for ongoing projects.”

Lady Lee’s reaction was thoughtful as she listened to Seonghwa’s words. She nodded slowly, her eyes focused intently on him as she weighed his proposal. Her demeanor suggested she was carefully considering the broader implications of the tour, reflecting on both its educational value and its potential to address public concerns. 

“Your proposal is indeed intriguing, Lord Park,” she began, her voice calm yet authoritative. ���A public tour could certainly enhance our visibility and foster goodwill within the community. I will discuss these points further with my team and assess the proposal’s viability.” 

Seonghwa smiled appreciatively, sensing that his approach had struck the right chord. “Thank you, Lady Lee. I look forward to the possibility of working together on this initiative.”

As Seonghwa left the office with a deep bow, he felt a surge of confidence. His plan was now in motion, and everything needed to access Cromer Labs was set.

“Uh, Dr. Kang?” Minjae began nervously, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yeosang, deeply engrossed in the delicate dissection of a dragon limb, barely glanced up. “Hm?” he replied absently, focused on his work.

“We just got a request from Y/N in Conservation,” Minjae continued, trying to keep his voice steady. “She’s asking for a phenotype sequencing report for a Nettled Kuku.”

Yeosang’s hands paused mid-motion as he finally looked up, a hint of irritation crossing his face. “A Kuku?”

Minjae shifted uncomfortably, sensing the growing tension. “It came in about an hour ago. Y/N mentioned it’s urgent for their ongoing project. Should I prioritize it?”

Yeosang sighed, placing his tools down with a deliberate clink. “Alright, get it sorted.”

Minjae nodded quickly, relief visible in his expression. “Understood.”

As Minjae hurried out of the lab, Yeosang’s thoughts lingered on the oddity of the situation. He returned to his work, his mind racing with questions about your motives and the true urgency behind the request.

“Is it necessary for you to gather every little thing about Ajax?” San scrunched his nose in mild irritation as he watched you sift through the cluttered remnants of the dragon’s lair. 

Mingi had always prided himself on his independence, but at San’s father’s insistence, the Choi family provided Ajax with a dedicated lair in their caverns. Once a grand and imposing space, Ajax’s dwelling was now a chaotic mess of shattered scales and scorched bones. Dust and debris floated through the air with every movement, catching the flickering light of the torch.

“I can’t overlook anything that might have DNA evidence,” you replied, carefully examining a cracked bone that could potentially hold valuable traces. San sighed and leaned against the cavern wall, his arms crossed and a look of both curiosity and annoyance on his face. 

“How are you supposed to find anything useful in all this debris?”

You paused, meeting his gaze with a determined expression. “Ajax’s DNA is all over this place. I need to collect enough samples for Jongho to run it against the phenotype sequencing report and check for a match with the Kuku.”

San raised an eyebrow. “And why not do it through the Institute? Wouldn’t it be more efficient?”

“The report given to the Council isn’t entirely reliable. We need to ensure accuracy ourselves, without any potential bias or errors from external sources,” you replied, shaking your head. 

"I'm surprised you're going through all this trouble for Park Seonghwa," San smirked, watching you pick up one of Ajax’s discarded scales. 

You paused for a moment, meeting his eyes with a resolute expression. “It’s not about helping Park Seonghwa. It’s about uncovering the truth, particularly with a missing child involved and the threat of unstable dragons like Ajax disrupting the natural balance.”

You shook the bag of DNA evidence in front of San, the clink of the vials inside breaking the silence between you. “Let’s get this to Jongho,” you said, determination in your voice as you tucked the bag securely under your arm. 

As you and San emerged from the Choi’s caverns, he glanced over at you with a contemplative look. The two of you walked in silence for a moment, the quiet of the surroundings amplifying the tension between you.

“I couldn’t help but notice how happy you seemed the other night,” he remarked, as you left the Choi’s caverns. His tone suggested there was more to the story. “I have to ask—do you have feelings for Seonghwa?”

His question hung in the air, charged with an underlying sense of knowing. San’s gaze was steady, suggesting he sensed there was more to your relationship with Seonghwa than just friendship. 

You hesitated, caught off guard by his perceptiveness. For a moment, you tried to gather your thoughts, the impact of his words settling in.

“Oh come on,” you said with a half-hearted laugh in an attempt to downplay the situation. “It’s not as complicated as you’re making it out to be. I was his trainer.”

San raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. He continued to observe you as if waiting for a more sincere response. “I’m not buying it,” he said firmly.

You sighed and turned to face him, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Look,” you said, trying to downplay the situation, “the idea of being with Seonghwa is laughable. He’ll find a suitable match from a noble Lady—someone who'll make a fine mistress for his House. And I’m sure she won’t yell at him every time he screws up a maneuver on the skyway.”

San’s expression softened slightly, though skepticism remained in his eyes. He leaned in with a teasing tone, “There’s nothing wrong with being honest with yourself, Y/N.”

You glanced down, feeling a twinge of frustration as you fidgeted with the items in your bag. “I’m fine with how things are,” you said, your voice steady but strained. “I’d rather not complicate them.” 

You knew San’s persistent curiosity struck a nerve, one that you were desperately trying to avoid. The thought of potentially disrupting your relationship with Seonghwa loomed over you like a storm cloud–the possibility of a rift was daunting, and you weren’t ready to confront those uncertainties. The idea of opening up about your feelings seemed too risky, especially when the stakes were so high.

As you rummaged through your bag, searching for anything to distract from the uncomfortable conversation, your hand closed around a small jar filled with what looked like fossilized rocks. 

“Keep asking me about my feelings,” you warned with a smirk, “and I’ll throw dragon poop at you.”

<< daylight | xi >>

a/n: I swear more action packed chapters are coming, we've reached the turning point in the story. also thanks to xikers for existing because I needed more characters to make cameos

taglist: @litolmochi @syubseokie @park-simphwa @szakias @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @maliamaiden @signingsongbird

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (9)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: A shocking call has Spencer questioning her involvement in the case. wc: 3.7k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

MASTERLIST

SPENCER COULDN'T REMEMBER THE LAST TIME HE FELT AT PEACE. Although protecting people and making them safe gave him a certain comfort, the pressure of being involved in harrowing cases took a toll on him more than he expected. But amid the ongoing investigation, he felt rather...calm.

He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly the reason why, between his responsibilities and obligations, he found himself embraced by this unexpected peace. It certainly had to do with the woman still nestled in his bed as he now stood in his kitchen, contemplating whether she preferred drinking coffee or perhaps something sweeter to start her day.

He couldn't believe it. He never imagined himself debating on another person's choice of beverage. Yet here he was, making a new pot of fresh coffee and setting out another mug to prepare a nice, warm cup of hot chocolate because its rich sweetness reminded him of her. If he didn't know which one she preferred between the two, he was going to make both.

He let out a sigh. He was a fool, wasn't he? Spencer was never one to indulge himself in romance. It wasn't easy for him to get swept away by any potential relationships. Falling in love again seemed like an illusion for him, something so far out of his reach. It seemed impossible to find someone he genuinely liked after losing the only person he ever considered spending the rest of his life with.

But look at him now, falling for somebody he met less than two weeks ago. For a smart person with an IQ of 187, he certainly was a fool.

Although having to know her for a mere fraction of time, Spencer had never fathomed that he could harbor such feelings. Having her soft body pressed against his side let him understand how much her presence stirred his heart.

And it wasn't just the physical aspect. The night wasn't simply spent with the warm feeling of her bare skin, but it was also filled with her laughter. Their late-night conversations delved into the realms of dreams and vulnerabilities, effortlessly bridging the gap between two strangers. With each passing conversation, he discovered the captivating intricacies of her mind which he wanted to understand better.

He liked her. He really did.

Maybe after all this ordeal, after he could disclose this current case, he could ask her out on a proper date. When there was no more boundary between them, when he wasn't an authority and she wasn't someone linked to a case, he would finally enjoy her company without feeling guilty.

He was pouring the fresh pot of coffee into a mug when his phone suddenly rang. He let out a groan, knowing what was waiting for him as he noticed Garcia's name plastered on the screen.

"Hey, Garcia," he greeted, slipping his phone between his face and his shoulder. "New update?"

"Reid."

He froze, noticing the strain in her voice. He quickly stopped what he was doing and straightened himself, pressing his phone against his ear. "What's wrong?"

"Are you sitting down?"

"Uh—no." He frowned at her question. "Why?"

"You might want to sit down."

He didn't, of course. But his mind was already buzzing with curiosity. "What is it?"

"Reid," she whispered, her voice dropping low as if trying to keep quiet. "You're the first person I called which means nobody else knows about this...yet."

"Garcia," he probed, suddenly feeling anxious. "What is it?"

There was a shuffling at the end of the line before her voice filled his ear again.

"Okay, so I crossed references that could help me find any articles Jamison Lynch wrote that might involve Kevin Marshall, and it turns out, there are none. Nothing. Nada." There was an unsettling pause before she continued, "Although there is one article mentioning Mr. Marshall by a journalist, who as of now, is an active employee at the publishing firm Jamison worked at. Guess who it is?"

He clutched the phone tighter as a tumultuous mix of emotions churned in his gut. In that moment, time seemed to stretch, waiting for his response. He paused, his mind spiraling into a web of confusion and disbelief as he pieced together the verity of this call.

"I'm guessing by your silence you already know why I wanted to call you first."

He did. He knew why it was important for Garcia to be informing him before anyone else. His eyes then glanced towards his bedroom door. Gone was the peaceful bliss he had felt, replaced by a gnawing sense of unease. Confusion suddenly swirled within him, clouding his thoughts and casting shadows upon the woman who still lay peacefully on the other side of the wall.

The warmth he relished this morning was now replaced by a chill of uncertainty that seeped into his veins.

"What—" He suddenly cleared his throat, hating how his voice sounded so foreign to him. He took a deep breath. "What else did you find?"

"I did more sleuthing and found Y/n's name as one of the people who filed a complaint against Jamison—which meant nothing, really, since he was known as a complete douchebag." Garcia then stopped. "May he rest in peace."

"Is there anything else?"

"Well, as it turns out, Jamison Lynch wasn't the first person Y/n filed a complaint for. There was also a complaint against Mr. Marshall."

"I thought Kevin Marshall was clean?"

"He was until I hacked into his company's database system and found this single complaint sent by her, which by the looks of it, seemed to be buried under a lot of firewalls." The clicking sound of a keyboard played in the background. "It was as if the company he worked for, or even Mr. Marshall himself, tried to hide it."

His burrows furrowed. "What was the complaint for?"

"Sexual Harassment."

His heart pounded in his chest, a fiery rage suddenly coursing through his body. The revelation he had just uncovered struck him like a thunderbolt, leaving him torn between seething anger and a torrent of conflicting emotions. The person he came to like had once suffered the unimaginable—a vile act of assault perpetrated by the man who now lay lifeless, a victim of murder.

Yet beneath the simmering rage, doubt festered like a poisonous seed. He was suddenly questioning the nature of her involvement. Not only did she know one of the victims, but she was also acquainted with both of them. His thoughts churned, torn between the desire to dismiss this uncertainty and the nagging voice of suspicion that echoed in the depths of his mind.

"Reid," Garcia called out when she was met with silence. "I don't what this means. I don't understand how or why she's linked between these two victims but please, please, don't do anything stupid."

His eyes drew back to his bedroom. Even when he was stuck between the depths of his emotions, the rational part of his brain managed to turn its gear. "Garcia, I need you to find out whether she knew the third victim."

"You mean the suicidal case that doesn't seem like suicide?"

"Harvey Webb," he confirmed, the name printed in his brain.

"Alright, I will. Oh—and Reid?" He hummed a reply. "Don't act on impulse. Please don't go concluding stuff on your own when you're obviously involved with her."

"I..." He took a deep breath. "I'm not involved with her."

"You're telling me you asked for her address and you didn't do anything about it?" When he didn't respond, she clicked her tongue. "Exactly. Now listen, I need to go and tell the others this, so come by the office and we'll deal with it together, okay?"

He glanced towards the cup of coffee now sitting cold by the counter. "Thanks, Garcia."

"You're welcome, boy genius."

As the phone call ended, Spencer found himself adrift in a sea of swirling emotions. This information was a step further into the investigation now that he found a link between the victims. But as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, a cloud of doubt descended upon his thoughts.

The deeper he delved into the complexities of the situation, the more elusive the truth became. Was it really possible she had anything to do with the murder? Could the trauma she had endured have pushed her to take matters into her own hands?

The questions lingered like a toxic fog, polluting his mind.

"Good morning."

Spencer looked up to see Y/n padding across the room wearing nothing but his shirt. The way the material draped over her form accentuated her curves, holding an allure that was impossible to ignore. His eyes traced the lines of her body, from the tousled strands of her hair to the subtle curve of her hip. It was an intimate sight that would have once mesmerized him completely.

But his mind was too clouded with his doubt.

"I hope you don't mind me borrowing your shirt—" She stopped when her eyes fell on him. "What's wrong? Is it the shirt?" She looked down at herself. "Should I change out of it?"

As quickly as the enchantment had taken hold, the weight of his doubts resurfaced. At that moment, the air crackled with unspoken words, an invisible barrier separating them. Spencer's heart ached with the weight of uncertainty.

How could the woman he had fallen for potentially be connected to a heinous crime? It seemed inconceivable, yet the voice at the back of his head urged him to question his doubt.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew Kevin Marshall?"

The unexpected question startled her, her feet instinctively taking a step back. "What?"

"When I questioned you that day, why didn't you mention that you knew him?"

She studied him, wondering where this was suddenly coming from. "I didn't think it was important," she finally responded. "And technically, I didn't know him personally. I interviewed him once for work."

"What happened that day?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you interviewed him, what happened?"

She felt his gaze upon her, intense and penetrating, and a shiver ran down her spine. It was as though he had glimpsed into the depths of her soul, unraveling something not many people were aware of.

"You know." It was more of a statement rather than a question. She took another step back. "Nobody else knows except a few of my closest friends but—" She shook her head. "That doesn't matter. What matters is how you know. I don't even think that company kept the files, they practically ignored my complaint."

"They kept it," he mused.

"And how do you know this?"

"The technical analyst in our team managed to find your files hidden."

"Technical analyst—why were you even searching for it?" She crossed her arms across her chest, focusing her attention on him. "Answer me. Why was your technical analyst searching for my complaint?"

Her heart was pounding against her chest as she waited for his answer.

"Because you're currently the only person linked between the two cases we're working on."

She frowned. "You mean the cases you think are done by the same killer? The death between my late boss and Kevin Marshall?"

"Yes. But this is only procedure, we do an investigation on any leads that we find."

"Investigation?" Then it dawned on her. It fucking dawned on her. Offense suddenly surged through her while his words, accusing and laced with suspicion, struck her with a sense of betrayal. "You think I have to do something with the murders."

The atmosphere, once a sanctuary of shared affection, now felt suffocating, closing in around her as the weight of his accusations settled heavily on her shoulders. His silence spoke louder than words.

"Unbelievable." Her eyes blazed with anger, her voice sharp and defensive. She turned away and stalked back to his room. "Unbelievable."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving," she hissed, noticing him trailing behind her. "Did you expect me to stay here and let you interrogate me like I'm some kind of criminal?"

His face twisted in frustration. "I just want to know what happened the day you interviewed Kevin Marshall."

"Why? So you can accuse me even further?”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“You’re questioning me. You want to know whether I have some kind of vendetta against him."

"I'm not trying to accuse you of anything."

"But you are." Without any warning, she gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it over her head. "You're practically cornering me with all the questioning, especially with that look on your face."

He quickly looked away and she stopped herself from scoffing at the absurdity of it. She was about to divulge how his sudden modesty was unnecessary when he spoke, "I wouldn't have to constantly ask you if you had answered me sooner."

This time she did scoff, grabbing onto her own pair of clothes. "You caught me off guard. What was I supposed to do?"

"Answer the question and not avoid it like what you're doing now."

"You think I'm avoiding the question on purpose?"

He drew his eyes back to her. "A study shows that body language plays a crucial role in interpersonal communication, and based on its verbal indicator, an attempt to avoid answering the question is notable by your vague response."

"And you're analyzing me based on that?"

"It's my job to analyze anyone involved in the case.”

"Anyone involved?" She screeched, dumbfounded by his judgment of her. "I trusted you last night, I opened up to you, and now you're throwing these baseless accusations at me?"

"I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm trying to make some sense of where you're connected in all of this."

"You don't even know how I'm involved!"

"That's what I'm trying to find out!"

The air crackled with tension, heavy with the echoes of their heated words. The silence that followed was almost deafening, a palpable strain that hung in the air like a fragile thread. The once intimate space now felt hollow, as if drained of its energy by the intensity of their emotions.

Breathless and emotionally drained, they stared at each other, their eyes mirroring a mix of regret, hurt, and lingering anger. But as the echoes of their heated argument faded, she felt a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over her. The adrenaline that had fueled her anger now deserted her, leaving her drained.

"You know what was on my mind this morning?" She suddenly spoke. "I woke up thinking I was happy to run into you again. It didn't take long for me to understand that, albeit the circumstances, I actually came to like you."

As the words spilled from her trembling lips, her voice quivered with vulnerability. But then a shadow of doubt danced in her eyes. A new wave of anger surfaced, overpowering the fragility of her confession.

"But the person I like is not this version of you. Who I like is Spencer Reid, not Doctor Reid."

He frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, right now, you're not the same guy I spent the night with. You're scrutinizing me, you're—what is it that you do again? Ah, yes, a profiler." She pointed a finger at him. "You're trying to profile me, you're trying to read my mind in my most vulnerable state because if you haven't noticed, Spencer, I'm standing here half naked while you're pestering me with your questions."

He quickly glanced away, noticing the truth in her words. He had let his anger and suspicion cloud his judgment of her, something Garcia had warned him not to do. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I'll go wait outside."

"Don't bother, I'm almost done."

But he was already out of her vision, and when she heard the soft click of the door closing behind her, she let out a shaking breath.

She stood there, her heart aching with a mix of disappointment and betrayal. His accusations had cut deep, searing through the bliss they had nurtured the past night. The warmth that once enveloped them had been replaced by a cold emptiness, leaving her feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

Her eyes drifted to the unmade bed before her. The memory of the night lingered in her mind like a bittersweet melody, playing on the strings of her heart. The tender moments they had shared, the warmth that had enveloped them seemed so distant now, overshadowed by the disappointment and anger that colored her mind.

She had hoped for a peaceful morning, a continuation of the intimacy they had shared under the cover of darkness. Instead, she found herself faced with the harsh truth of their current reality, the dissonance of their unspoken tensions. His doubt had tarnished the tender memories, leaving a bitter taste on her lips.

With a heavy sigh, she let the memories of last night linger for a moment longer before gathering her strength. She walked out of the room once she was fully clothed to find him standing by his couch, his body turning at the sound of her footsteps.

"Y/n."

“Thanks for listening to me last night."

"Y/n."

"Thank you for letting me stay too."

"Y/n."

"Stop."

Her hands clenched into fists, a physical manifestation of the conflicting emotions raging within her. He watched her, and as the silence stretched between them, she saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a recognition of the hurt he had inflicted. Perhaps he had acted out of fear, allowing the shadows of the investigation to cast doubt on her. But the betrayal still lingered too deeply.

"You know what frustrates me?" She wondered. His silence was a sign for her to continue. "You're questioning me not because you genuinely want to know, you're doing it out of your obligation because you think it's your job to do so."

She held out a hand when he took a step closer.

"And it's fine," she went on. "It is your job. You're the federal agent here and I'm merely someone whose name is linked to the case."

"Y/n, I didn't mean to—"

"With that being said, we should keep our relationship strictly that way."

Her words hung heavy in the air, each syllable an arrow piercing his heart. He stood there, frozen, his eyes fixed on her as if searching for a flicker of hesitation, a glimmer of doubt. But her resolve was unwavering. With a deep breath, she mustered the courage to speak once more, her voice steady and resolute.

“If you really want to know what happened, call me into your office, I'll answer your questions then.”

Her expression dulled as she held his gaze, and with one last jaded look etched in her somber eyes, she finally turned around without sparing another glance, excusing herself from his apartment.

He watched as the door closed behind her.

Spencer stood there, surrounded by an oppressive silence that echoed the void she had left behind. Time seemed to stand still as he grappled with the overwhelming flood of emotions. The truth of the situation settled upon his shoulders, the reality that their paths had diverged and the bliss they had once shared had transformed into something unrecognizable.

Just as the weight of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him entirely, his phone suddenly pinged with a new alert. Startled, he reached for it, his fingers trembling as he unlocked the screen. The digital glow illuminated his face, casting a pale light upon his features as he read the message.

PENELOPE: THEY'RE CALLING HER IN. SHE KNEW THE THIRD VICTIM.

Spencer stood frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at the words. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat reverberating through his entire being. He dialed Garcia’s number only to be rejected as soon as the first ring echoed in his ear.

PENELOPE: CAN'T TALK. HOTCH IS BESIDE ME.

His heart raced, his breath quickened, and a mixture of anger, confusion, and fear surged through his veins. Spencer quickly walked over towards his window and saw a glimpse of Y/n climbing into a cab, her phone pressed against her ear. He ran a hand through his curls in frustration as his phone alerted a new message.

PENELOPE: GET YOUR ASS HERE, REID.

SPENCER: I'm on my way.

Confusion clouded him, the lines between truth and lies blurring in his head. And beneath it all, fear lurked, whispering doubts about his judgment.

A heaviness settled upon his chest, constricting his breath and swarming his thoughts. The calm that had graced his waking moments seemed like a distant memory now—his peace only lasted briefly.

>> NEXT PART

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[xhikatsu]

Topaz and Aventurine’s Silent Acceptance

Aventurine and Topaz, despite seemingly very opposite of each other, actually seem to get along with each other far more than they have shown with Jade. It’s rather ironic considering we don’t get to see them together really, yet there’s so many bits and hints they work together often.

Despite the way Topaz seems to openly admit to disagreeing with Aventurine, even sometimes sounding rather begrudgingly working with him, she always seems to be willing to back Aventurine up when he needs her. And vice versa, Aventurine has shown to be there for her when she needs it as well.

Throughout the Penacony quest, despite not making an appearance until the end, Topaz has been supporting him from the sidelines. Just making some assumptions due to her being in constant communications with him, she was probably the one trying to help contact allies for him while being in reality and Aventurine in the dreamscape.

She even asked Trailblazer to help Aventurine out when the time comes, so it’s not too far off to assume that it is possible she might have been the one contacting others with/for him. For example, such as the Knights of Beauty since she has connections to them with her probably knowing Wilder from the Aetherium Wars, the younger twin of Velite who was part of Argenti’s quest.

Overall, she is stuck in the reality hotel in Penacony. Instead of doing nothing, she was most likely helping Aventurine in any way she can since she is his project manager and he was in the dream world alone. This may also mean she might have been the one who ordered a doctor of chaos for him after being slashed by Acheron's blade, sending him to the Nihility and affecting him a bit after escaping (Thanks to Mr. Knight of Beauty as well).

Handling the negotiations, which was most likely her main duty in the project, she only had to work with Jade for this bit since Aventurine overplayed in giving them the opportunity and chance by getting the Emanator of Nihility involved to cause a scene. This means if things went as planned without extra complications, it would have just been the two of them working on the project while Jade only included her stone as part of the deal made prior to Penacony.

But even after that, during the meeting with the other Stonehearts, Topaz has continued her support towards him. Specifically, she was the first person to vote for Aventurine to have him stay in the Stonehearts during the debate on whether he should be kicked out or not. When Sugilite probes Aventurine that his "death" and ruining the Cornerstone was unnecessary, hinting that he probably did it out of his own selfishness of wanting to give his life away, Topaz was the one to shut down that line-of-thought by immediately voting to counter him. She specifically states to not ignore the facts, most likely pertaining to the results that Aventurine did complete the project and won Penacony for the IPC. On top of that, she never fully stated her reason for voting for Aventurine, only defending him against Sugilite's accusation.

Ironically, this was a similar case to Aventurine staying on call after Topaz’s demotion. After the 1.4 quest with Topaz on Jarilo VI, Aventurine was the only one to stay on call with her when she clearly did not seem happy by being demoted. Right after taking his voice changer off, Topaz seems visibly more happy compared to how she looked during the discussion of her demotion and Aventurine immediately seems to tease her (similarly to how the two bickered or poked at each other during the Checking Out quest after 2.3).

On top of that, Aventurine did two things during this conversation. First, he warned her about her kind heart when he didn’t need to. According to his words, he already warned her ahead of time that the project was more risky than beneficial but still continued to warn her of the potential harm that it may cause to her. Why is that? On top of this, the second thing he did after this was immediately recruit her to his Penacony project even though she just “failed” her project. His words in the CN text was:

“No one but you” instead of “what do you say”

What makes this conversation interesting is how he seems to continue to worry for her, hinting that he keeps warning her to be careful on the kind of projects she takes and even advise against it. Since in this particular case she ended up "failing", he immediately seems to try to cheer her up by staying in call with her to try and tease her like he usually would. But, he also even tries to offer her an opportunity to help her rank back up. Now do recall, Topaz does not care about ranks. But also, she has mentioned in Penacony that she is only there just because of Aventurine. The project was not something she cared for, but merely joined because Aventurine seemed to have personally asked for her help and specifically her out of all people despite her just being demoted when he asked.

This silent acceptance to help one another and continually support each other has always been an interesting trend between the two. Despite bickering and poking at each other, almost as if they are rivals or sorts, they have shown to be far kinder and closer to each other so far than the other Stonehearts that they have had interactions with in the main story, character stories, or myriad trailers.

Original Date of Posting on Tumblr: Oct 2, 2024