#like people have come to just. associate me with this game at this point

[dresshistorynerd]

"Really wasn't saying much" is an interesting response to getting criticised for agreeing with intensely Islamophobic rant. If they weren't saying more than "I like long skirts, but they are impractical in the moors" (which is incorrect as a blanket statement as others pointed out) then perhaps they shouldn't have gone out of their way to agree with Islamophobia?

(For context I'm talking about this post.)

But as was pointed out by @/marzipanandminutiae this idea that skirts, even long ones, can only be comfortable and practical in very limited circumstances is false (point which the OP seemingly failed to understand). The OP said in the original post: "if your mode of transport is foot, bike, or horse, pants are more practical." So in addition to skirts being impractical in moors apparently skirts are also more impractical *checks notes* for walking. I can agree that pants are usually more practical for riding a bike, but most skirt are imo fine for biking, so sometimes when counting in the weather, the comfortability, etc. a skirt is the better and more practical option for me (it of course depends on what you find comfortable) even though I'm going to use a bike. But for walking? There's absolutely no reason why skirts would be inherently less practical for walking. Sure some skirts might be less practical than some pants, but also some pants would be less practical than some skirts. And when it comes to the moors? Skirt is again not inherently less practical. Even a long one. For most skirts you can easily raise the hem by folding some of it to the hip and securing it with a belt, technique which women, especially working women, (at least in Europe) have used thorough history.

You can't do that for pants. So pants would in fact more likely be impractical in the moors by getting their hems wet and stained by the grass. It's true that historically people of steppe environments have often used pants, but that's because in steppe environments horse riding has usually been so central to the culture. (Though horses were introduced outside Eurasia pretty late in the game, but still Eurasia does have pretty large part of the world's steppe areas.)

Historically pants have been used in extreme cold (trapping the air properly with skirt is not possible when you move around) and for horse riding. Without modern comforts you would think practicality was of utmost importance for the pre-modern humans, but pants were only popularized outside horse riding and extreme cold climates in the Early Modern Era (I go through that history in detail in this post). That's because the skirt is in fact the more practical garment in the vast majority of circumstances. Skirts have just gotten bad rep because they have become associated with womanhood, and women am I right??? Women simply can't be the ones used the more practical garment because as we all know women are irrational and vein and women be shopping you know?

In the Victorian Era upper class women used quite impractical dresses, as upper class people have always done (to show you are rich enough so you don't have to do physical labour), while upper class men wore less impractical pants (for reasons that are too complex to go into here, but shortly it was because modern masculinity was build up from romanization of a rural gentleman and a military man), so it was decided that skirts are simply less practical. Of course working women used practical skirts, but they didn't count. It was the mainstream Late Victorian feminists (not all feminists at the time agreed), who cemented this view on skirts, because they accepted the idea that skirts were simply less practical and that men's dress in general was just more rational, because men were more rational, so to free themselves from the confines of womanhood, women needed to stop being vein and adopt masculine dress, including pants. They ended up being very successful with their campaign and they managed to make it acceptable for women to wear pants. It was a legit great achievement, controlling what women can and can't wear is bad actually, but at the same time they conceded that femininity is irrational and skirts are impractical. Eventually the skirt was marginalized to a more formal dress status (which is usually by design impractical), which is why, even after all our feminist progress, the idea that skirt is impractical still persists.

[the-fruitiest-fae]

I get kinda nervous sometimes that my irl’s are gonna get sick of me constantly talking about Hollow Knight but like, they’ve said they’re chill with it & I’m just excited because for the first time in literal years I can just. Openly and unapologetically hyperfixate around other people who not only aren’t going to judge me for it but are actually kind of INTERESTED in what i have to say?? About my hyperfixation?? And I really don’t have to pretend to hide my interests for fear of rejection anymore?!?! It’s this absolutely foreign, wild, wonderful concept and I’m still getting used to it and i love it and i love them (platonically). It’s not just me & my sister anymore I have a whole ass friend group who for once aren’t using me or seem like they’re just gonna ditch me for no reason & like. That’s new

Like I have these wonderful friends who care about me AND i get to study a subject I’m interested in college is the 2nd best thing that has ever happened to me (second only to my sister i love that funky buff lil lesbian with everything i have)

[featherymainffins]

Hoes in my playthrough of BG3 are suffering because nobody has the guts to break up with "Osob" or otherwise tell him to go fuck himself.

Meanwhile Solas of Dragon Age fame, who is the champion of breaking up in psychic damage inducing ways, and just hit the bricks on Adabo's ass,...well actually from what I know he's also suffering. But at least the suffering is his own doing.

[mrchoppedslefthand]

[SPOILERS] Homicipher Is Actually Romantic, Convince Me Otherwise [Analysis/Opinion] [SFW]

Word count: 3,332

Edit: 11/7/2024

[Feel free to skip to the last objective "Individual route discussion + what made it romantic" if you want to get straight to the point]

Homicipher is truthfully a romantic (or platonic) game. It is a game that has to be looked at from a different perspective when it comes to love/romance. A game where you have to take in consideration of the characters and the nature of their 'other world'. Today's post will discuss into what I believe made Homicipher an oddly, but romantic game, despite its shortcoming and abrupt ends.

⚠️[MAJOR LORE/CHARACTER ROUTE SPOILERS] ⚠️

Discussion Objectives:

Definition of Love & how it plays into Homicipher

The nature of the 'other world' and ghosts

Individual route discussion + what made it romantic (thoughts)

What Is Love & How Does It Play Into Homicipher?

Love has many layers of definition and associations. Maybe, that is why some may deem Homicipher to be "unromantic" and some disagree on that thought. It also varies based on the type of content/exposure you had consume in the category of love [whether romantic or platonic]. Socially, from a common standpoint, love is a strong attachment or affection for someone. Often from a social standpoint associated with dates, affection, and intimacy. However, love is always changing, since it is a social script on what its suppose to be, and changes as society progresses. Some notions stay the same but some begin to change (just like how language and certain concepts begin to change in the other world, a different society from our own). For the sake of a "true" definition of love. I will be using the definition offered by the Oxford Language Dictionary. So, what is love?

Love as a noun is...

"An intense feeling of deep affection"

"A great interest and pleasure in something"

"A person or thing that one loves"

Love as a verb is...

"Feel deep affection for (someone)"

"Like or enjoy very much"

Not long after its release there had been a fair number of comments/reviews criticizing Homicipher for its lack of romance. This claim is NOT entirely wrong. From the expectations of a "normal" Otome/dating sim it doesn't necessarily meet the requirements because of its lack of intimacy, affection and interest from a HUMAN/SOCIETAL perspective. We must remember that romance/love does not necessarily equate to kissing, hand holding, and intimacy especially considering that these are the HUMAN (societal) views on what romance/love is. A concept that had become lost in the 'other world'. So how can we call Homicipher romantic if we have to cross out the influence of our society? The answer is that we can't fully avoid it, HOWEVER, we must be open to a different perspective of what 'their' version of love is (platonic love/or romantic). No matter how lacking, dense, twisted and grotesque the moments we have spent with these ghosts are. In some shape and form it CAN equate itself to love (platonic/ or romantic). I think a lot of people forget that time itself can be equate to some complicated level of love. The fact you spend time with someone, and it develops to something further for worse or better, something that even love may not be able to name, is what this game demonstrates.

Homicipher has a consistent theme, the loss of truth, the acceptance of ignorance and the concept of eternity. Which shockingly is where the romance comes from. When we allow ourselves to rot in that world. When we ignore the exit and choose to stay, is where the romance comes through. Love is complicated. What can I say?

·:¨༺ ��✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

The Nature of the 'Other World' & Ghosts

Alot of the ghosts we encounter can be friendly, but also just as deadly. We hear it from almost all of the casts warning or discussing about how dangerous a lot of the ghosts (including themselves) roam in this world, and in different endings, succumb to this danger ourselves. The longer we stay in this world, we soon start to become no different. As we, a human, begin to slowly transform into a different entity. We begin to react more violently (though it can be argued that since our MC is a serial killer, she might have just been violent and cruel in general). When angered, or things start not to go her way, she gets filled with bloodlust and takes it out on who she's with. Killing is a common thing to do in this world, especially when experiencing anger, sadness and even boredom. The concept of death is a little complicated as they can easily regenerate themselves back to "life". As the game progresses, we learn that some of these ghosts cannot grasp certain concepts (such as love), remember their own name and self, and don't have exact words (sometimes none) for items.

When sometimes even confessing that you like some of the ghosts they question you, and state that they cannot understand you or that feeling (platonic/ or romantic). We are in a setting that is beyond the mortal realm, there aren't any exactly "ideal" dates in a place different from the moral realm... so you're going to be stuck in a scary place, having a scary "date".

However just because they cannot understand the concept of love, doesn't meant that they can't feel it. It is something that the body may still feel, and the mind not being able to put an identity to that feeling or even situation, since meanings and concepts get lost within this realm. The fact that we are allowed to spend an eternity in this realm, with our handsome casts of ghosts. Is oddly and sadly romantic. For Mr. Crawling it is his devotion and loyalty to you, it is how he worries and cares for you, it is his affection and attempts to soothe you. For Mr. Silvair it is his care for you (as research of course lol), your usefulness (which is why he is attracted to you), but even then, one of his endings he keeps you as a head, when you had become useless to him. For Mr. Gap he finds you intriguing, he wants to play and follow you around, always asking for parts of you with consent, loves to brag about himself to you. For Mr. Chopped it is his want to rely on you, to feel safe with you, to protect him, to spend time with him. For Mr. Hood it his willingness to help you for an eternity, to roam with you forever, keeping you away from danger. For Mr. Machete it is the fact you both spend an eternity searching for a home together, to suffer boredom together, to suffer within each other's presence. For Mr. Scarletella it is his obsession for you and his willingness to spend an eternity with you.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Individual Routes + What Made Them Romantic

[Not in any particular order]

Mr. Crawling

If I had to rank who had the most "romantic" route overall, it would be Mr. Crawling. With the definition usage of love from the Oxford dictionary, verb and noun he checks all the list. Not only that, but we spend time with him the most out of all the other casts. He was the very first ghost we meet (briefly in the beginning) and got stuck with. We are like a baby bird imprinting on him because we saw him first and spent time with him the most, so of course we might feel the most attached to him compared to the others. As the game progresses Mr. Crawling doesn't fail to let us know that he cares for us and our safety warning us of the dangers that come and explaining how to navigate our way around danger. He expresses his worries when we disappeared. He seems to have some concept of love (platonic/ or romantic) as he admittedly tells us that he likes us and ask us if we like him. He expresses how he wants to follow and protect us. He also has so many cute scenes! Scenes where he pats our head, scenes where we lay together, chat a lot together. He is devoted and loyal to us, never harming us even once.

We even get a scene where he gets jealous when we called Mr. Chopped cute with the cat headband! So, he also makes an attempt to be cute too! We are always together with him, and that makes us BOTH happy. Although we don't have our traditional romantic dates like shopping, movie night. We get a bed scene and get to take him back home with us.

There are many types of romance. Platonic and romantic. You the reader/player is allowed to view it however you want. The game does not punish you for the lack of interactions with the casts. You just end up missing out on certain scenes/moments with them is all. However, for the sake of this post I will be making attempts to talk about the romantic aspect (but platonic romance can also be put into place).

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Mr. Silvair

lt's apparent that Mr. Silvair keeps us as research material and confines us in his lair. He is interested in our body, and also interested in returning our mind/intellect back to its original state. It is this interest in us that makes him "love" us. Does confinement and research count as love? Well...maybe not in terms of human definition but in the Mr. Silvair way, it's the closest thing you can get to romantic (or platonic). Afterall, the concept of love has become lost in this world.

I believe he still has some attachment to us, because in the ending A Head's Life, he still keeps you as a companion along with Mr. Chopped. He claims that you are no longer useful/capable but that it is okay, as long as danger is no longer here. When you choose to ask him why he did what he did and ask if he likes you, he tells you it was for research and that love is something he cannot understand. He also doesn't understand why you get so angry when he helped you return your intellect back. He still though has some sort of concept of empathy, because in his route when you choose to kill him and hide yourself away. He comes follow you and expresses that he's sorry and tells you a little about himself. He allows you free will, at this point, allowing you to leave him or stay with him.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Mr. Gap

Mr. Gap always wants a piece of us, literally. Why does he? Because it's just for fun. The most interaction we get with him is through the multiple crevices within this world and the short route he gets in chapter 4. He takes but sometimes may give. However, he doesn't fail to be thoughtful. It's hilarious how in chapter 4 when he offers us a crowbar in exchange for your heart, you can just smack him for it with no consequences. He also likes to brag about himself to you which honestly is a little cute. With his ending Return, we only have him left in the 'other world'. Our comfort lies with him, although he may be a little annoying, he is the only one we have left. We maybe have become a little codependent on him, but maybe he likes that?

God his annoyed/disgusted face is so hilarious, do it again Mr. Gap! He seems to stick around with us mainly just for funsies and being nosy, and honestly, he is so real for that. But it seems he likes to stay around with us at least. In the return end he is with us, and continues to stay lurking, perhaps watching over us until he is needed. Quite handy am I right? Haha.

He is depicted as quite the gentleman, but also just as fun and teasing. There are times where he does help you with no charge, such as barging into his hole (the face he makes in that scene is hilarious). Again, when presented with beating him for your crowbar, he gets a little upset but, honestly still helps you out. He probably thinks violence is funny which is why he constantly still teases you by asking to take away your body parts. It's just too fun!

Someone had brought up to my attention that Mr.Gap tends to ask for parts that can be easy to part with as we progress. Asking for our feet, legs, and fingers instead, when he seems to still clearly prefer the heart over the other parts. He adjusts his request when he realizes we won’t give our heart.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Mr. Chopped

Mr. Chopped is just a head; how can he possibly be or have anything romantic? Well, not necessarily to the level of Mr. Crawling but, we get to have a few small moments with him and spend some time with him. Since he is just a head, he can't help but need to rely on others. Of course, he has to be selectively about it because falling in the wrong hands devastates him.

Mr. Chopped when he gets forced into playing with the deer child, he seems happy to see a familiar face and calls us out to help him. Our poor baby was in trouble!

His ending head hunt is tragically sad but also bittersweet. MC cares so much about Mr. Chopped that she spends an eternity as an entity searching for a lost head, searching for Mr. Chopped who she failed to rescue.

During his own special route Mr. Chopped does his best to help us, but there is only so much a head can do. To make up for his lack of body though, he seems to be more expressive with his mouth and emotions. We get to take him to get a haircut and wash his hair. This seems pretty date like to me. Although our time was abrupt and short with Mr. Chopped. It makes me happy that we get this small, cute scene with him, which makes him much more lovable.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Mr. Hood

Mr. Hood protects you from harm, and also heeds your commands. He also carries you around. He means no harm and is there to guide. He cares for your safety and seems to dislike anything dangerous or threatening towards him and others that he protects.

At the end of his route, he states how often you get in danger and takes you with him, telling you that he must protect you since you asked him to (referring to an earlier scenario when you asked him to stay with you, when you reunited with Mr. Crawling and the others, but he leaves). So I would assume he would always be by your side now eternally staying together and protecting you from danger when needed. How cute! Some people are into that. But personally, for me Mr. Hood felt more like a father/brother to me. Maybe it was because he was always willing to guide us? But some people are into the brotherly/fatherly type of men, and hey I don't judge.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Mr. Machete

At first, I did not see the appeal to Mr. Machete, he seemed like a ghost that killed for boredom and most of the time we just followed him around aimlessly...WELL, after playing his route and letting it soak in my brain. That is entirely the whole point of his character. He is a ghost that had become bored because he had too much time on his hands and continues to search for his home. He is our tsundere dummy macho ghost, and honestly, I love that about him. He could've killed us again like how he tried earlier, but after that first attempt, he reluctantly allows us to follow him. It's funny how much he runs away if the odds are against him, and when he mocks us it's even more hilarious. Mr. Machete likes us if we are strong opponent for him, he even expresses that he thinks we are fun and likes us when we defeat Mr. Hugeface on our own.

Not going to lie, I fell for Mr. Machete right here. We were low on blood, and he just slices his hand, FEEDING us HIS BLOOD. Like OMG that was so hot, he opens our mouth forceful, and we drink his blood. He somewhat cares about us, to be doing all of that for us. After that we get a timed choice to stall or follow him. When you choose to stall he pauses with you and asks if you're okay and to catch up with him. For someone who had been reluctant and annoyed at us for following him, took a moment of his time to wait for you. He WANTED you to tag along with him. We then venture on with him aimlessly searching for his and our home. Torturing each other with our presences. But maybe, just maybe, they can slowly become that home together that they were searching for.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Mr. Scarletella

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. At first, he appears to be just any ghost that wants to attack us. It took me a while to warm up to him because of so little we knew about him. I thought he wanted to take our name for fun/or collection, but then it's revealed that he knows us. That he harbors some sort of love and obsession for us and believes that we love him because of all the blood and bodies we "offered" him. In a twisted way, this situation is a cute and romantic misunderstanding. Mr. Scarletella fell in love with us for providing him many blood and bodies. He wants us to spend an eternity with him. He WANTS to spend an eternity with us. He invites us to this other world because perhaps he wants us to become a ghostly being just like him, or maybe he wants to have easier access to us (since his myth that he only appears on rainy days) to meet us. Although we didn't get to have as many interactions with him, that is what makes this love toxic. It is a parasocial love, he fell in love with us from afar. When you piece everything together with your dictionary the words he proposes to you sound like wedding vows when you give your name to him. Which make it all so more lovely, even if he takes our soul away.

(My translation/interpretation of the scene, where he asks for your name)

Chapter 2, Scene 24

Scarletella: "You found your name...?"

Scarletella: "Teach me your name." (ARF ARF WRARF)

Scarletella: "I want you." (YES PLEASE)

Scarletella: "Will you give your name?" (OF COURSE)

Scarletella: "Your name?" (👁️👄👁️)

*You give him your name here*

Scarletella: "I have your name."

Scarletella: "I have obtained you." (YES YOU DID, COME TAKE ME)

Scarletella: "Let's leave together." (ARF ARF WRARFFFFFFFF)

Scarletella: "I love you"

Scarletella: "And you love me."

Scarletella: "You gave it to me...Thank you" (I'LL GIVE YOU IT ALL)

Scarletella: "Forever/eternally together..." (YES SIR)

Scarletella: "Together." (ARF ARF WRARRF ARFA)

He is quite the romancer hehe. It seems like Mr. Scarletella has some form of concept when it comes to love, which is to be together forever, even if you end up as a blood pool. Together is together.

I find it interesting how his two endings: Scarletella and Scarlet Rain parallels each other so well. In the Scarletella ending, we (mc unknowingly) give our consent to being together forever with Mr. Scarletella, but we are still alive. When MC wakes up, she sees a clear umbrella on the floor and picks it up. I believe that we have now embodied or spirited the umbrella, spending eternity with Mr. Scarletella. He owns us now.

However, in the Scarlet Rain end he becomes ours, the umbrella stays red, and we still, eternally are together forever.

[pucksandpower]

Critics and Lovers

Max Verstappen x journalist!Reader

Summary: how would the paddock react if they knew that the woman writing scathing critiques about the reigning world champion weekend after weekend was the same woman who whispers sweet nothings in his ear at night?

“Did you really go to school for half a decade to get your journalism degree just to ask if I think I’ll win?”

Max’s voice cuts through the bustle of the press room, drawing the attention of a few journalists milling around with their notebooks and recorders. He leans back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, his smirk more amused than annoyed. His blue eyes — always so intense under the brim of his cap — lock onto yours, daring you to respond.

You raise an eyebrow, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at him. “I’m asking the questions the people want answers to, Max. It’s my job, remember?”

“Your job is to provoke me, apparently,” he counters, leaning forward slightly, his smirk widening. “But you know, you could at least pretend to be creative. Ask something that might surprise me for once.”

“I wasn’t aware you had the capacity to be surprised,” you quip, your pen hovering over your notepad as if ready to jot down his response.

Max lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Touché. But if you’re expecting me to give you a soundbite for your next article, you’ll have to do better than that.”

The exchange draws a few chuckles from the nearby journalists, but they quickly refocus on their own tasks, used to the banter between the two of you. After all, it’s no secret that you’re Max Verstappen’s biggest critic.

Week after week, your articles dissect his performances with surgical precision, never shying away from pointing out his flaws, his temper, his moments of questionable judgment. To everyone else, you’re just doing your job, holding one of the sport’s biggest stars accountable. But to Max — well, he seems to take it in stride, brushing off your critiques with the same ease he shows on track.

What no one else knows, though, is that this verbal sparring is just another part of the complicated dance you and Max have been perfecting for years. A dance that begins in front of cameras and microphones, and ends in private, where the lines between your professional rivalry and personal relationship blur into something neither of you can fully define.

“Okay, fine,” you say, pretending to think hard about your next question. “How about this: what’s your plan for today? Any new strategies to surprise us with?”

Max raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “That’s almost worse than your first question. Did you really think that would get me talking?”

You sigh, exasperated. “Maybe if you gave me a straight answer for once, I wouldn’t have to keep asking.”

He leans in closer, lowering his voice just enough so only you can hear. “Maybe if you asked me something off the record, I’d actually consider it.”

“Off the record doesn’t sell papers, Max,” you reply, your tone equally low but tinged with something more affectionate, something that would be impossible to miss for anyone paying close attention.

Max’s smirk softens into something more sincere, his eyes flickering with the warmth that you’ve come to associate with the quiet moments you share away from the track, away from the scrutiny of the world.

It’s a look that says he knows you’re playing a role, just like he is. That despite the biting comments and the professional jabs, there’s a mutual understanding between you. A connection that runs deeper than anything either of you would ever admit in public.

But here, in this crowded room filled with reporters who’d kill for the kind of scoop only you could provide, that connection has to stay hidden. Because if anyone ever found out the truth — if they knew that you, the woman who writes those scathing critiques of Max Verstappen, were the same woman who shares his bed at night — it would be the end of both your careers.

And so, the game continues, with both of you playing your parts to perfection.

“Next time, try asking me something interesting,” Max says, his voice returning to its usual volume as he straightens in his chair, signaling the end of your private moment. “Otherwise, I’ll start thinking you’re getting lazy.”

You give him a look that’s meant to be stern but can’t quite hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Lazy? I think you’re confusing me with your performance last weekend.”

The jab earns you a mock glare from Max, but he doesn’t take the bait, instead giving a noncommittal shrug. “We’ll see who’s lazy when I’m on top of the podium later.”

“Confident as ever, I see,” you remark, jotting down a few notes that you know you’ll never actually use.

“Just stating facts,” he says, and for a moment, you can’t help but admire the way he carries himself, the ease with which he navigates this world of high stakes and even higher expectations. It’s one of the things that drew you to him in the first place, back when neither of you had any idea where this relationship was heading.

“Well, good luck out there,” you say, finally stepping back to let the next reporter have their turn. But as you move away, you catch the briefest flash of something in his eyes — something that tells you he’s not just thinking about the race ahead, but about the conversation you’ll have later, away from prying eyes.

As you find a spot at the back of the room, your phone buzzes in your pocket. A quick glance tells you it’s a message from Max, sent under the guise of a work-related email, as usual.

You know I’m going to make you pay for that lazy comment later, right?

You bite back a smile, typing out a quick response.

Promises, promises.

The rest of the press conference goes by in a blur of questions and answers, none of which capture your attention the way Max does. You’re barely listening when the moderator finally wraps things up, and the drivers start to file out.

But before Max can make his exit, he pauses just long enough to catch your eye, giving you a look that’s all too familiar. It’s the same look he gave you the first time you met, back when he was just another driver on the grid and you were the new journalist determined to make a name for yourself. A look that says he’s already planning what he’s going to say to you later, when the cameras are off and the real conversations can begin.

You follow the crowd out of the room, blending in with the other journalists as you make your way toward the paddock. But your thoughts are already drifting to the end of the day, to the moment when you’ll finally be alone with Max, free to drop the pretense and just be yourselves.

Because despite the roles you play in public — the critical journalist and the cocky driver — in private, you’re something else entirely. Something that neither of you can fully explain, but neither of you wants to give up.

“Heading back to the media center?” One of your colleagues asks as you step outside, the midday sun beating down on the paddock.

“Yeah, I’ve got a deadline to meet,” you reply, forcing your mind back to the task at hand. But even as you say it, you know that your thoughts will be elsewhere for the rest of the day. On Max, and the secret you both share. A secret that, for now, is safe.

But how long can it stay that way?

The question lingers in your mind as you head back to your desk, the usual chatter of the paddock fading into the background. You’ve always known that this arrangement couldn’t last forever, that eventually, something would give.

The world of Formula 1 is too small, too tightly knit, for secrets like this to stay buried forever. And when the truth finally comes out — because it’s not a matter of if, but when — you know that everything will change.

But for now, you push those thoughts aside, focusing on the article you need to write. It’s what you’re good at, after all — crafting narratives, shaping stories. And today, the story is about Max, the driver who never fails to surprise you, both on and off the track.

The press room is quieter now, most of the other journalists having moved on to other tasks. You sit down at your laptop, the screen reflecting your determined expression. The cursor blinks at you, waiting. And as you begin to type, the words flow easily, the story taking shape with each keystroke.

It’s a story the world has seen before — another race, another analysis of Max Verstappen’s performance. But underneath it all, there’s a subtext that only you can see, a hidden layer that tells the real story. The one that will never make it to print.

The one that belongs to just you and Max.

Hours pass in a blur, your fingers flying over the keyboard as you lose yourself in the work. It’s almost too easy to write about Max, to analyze his every move, his every decision. You know him better than anyone, after all — better than any other journalist in this room, better than most of the people in his life. It’s a knowledge that comes with a price, though, a price you’re all too aware of.

But as the final paragraph falls into place, you sit back, satisfied. The article is done, the narrative complete. And with it, the day’s work is finally over. You stretch, glancing around the empty press room, and for a moment, you allow yourself to relax. To let go of the role you’ve been playing all day, and just be yourself.

Your phone buzzes again, pulling you back to reality. Another message from Max.

Meet me in the usual place?

You don’t hesitate before typing out a reply.

On my way.

The media center is almost deserted as you make your way out, the soft hum of electronics the only sound filling the room. You slip your laptop into your bag and sling it over your shoulder, feeling the weight of the day lift slightly as you step into the paddock. The evening air is cooler now, a welcome relief after the day’s heat, and the sky is streaked with shades of orange and pink as the sun dips below the horizon.

You walk with purpose, navigating the familiar maze of trailers and motorhomes, heading toward the secluded spot where you and Max often meet. It’s tucked away from the main pathways, a place where no one would think to look for you, and that’s exactly why it works. You reach the spot and pause, taking a deep breath before stepping around the corner.

Max is already there, leaning against the side of a trailer, his cap pulled low over his eyes, hands shoved in his pockets. He looks up as you approach, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Took you long enough,” he says, his tone teasing.

“Had to finish that article you’re so eager to read,” you reply, stopping a few feet away from him, just outside the reach of his hands.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s a glowing review of my abilities,” he says, pushing off the trailer and closing the distance between you in two strides. He reaches for your hand, pulling you closer, and you don’t resist. Here, in this quiet corner of the paddock, the walls come down, and the roles you play for the cameras melt away.

“Glowing might be a stretch,” you say, allowing yourself a small smile as his hand lingers on your waist. “But it’s fair.”

“Fair is good,” he murmurs, leaning in so his forehead rests against yours. “But if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re going easy on me.”

“Maybe I am,” you admit, your voice softening. “Or maybe I just think you deserve a break every now and then.”

“From the criticism? Or from you?” He asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Both,” you say, giving him a playful shove, but he doesn’t budge, his grip on you firm yet gentle.

“You know I’d never take a break from you,” he says, his voice low, serious now. His thumb strokes your side, sending a shiver up your spine.

You close your eyes for a moment, letting the sensation wash over you. It’s these moments you treasure the most, the ones where it’s just the two of you, no expectations, no pressure. Just Max and you, stripped down to the simplest version of yourselves.

“I know,” you whisper, opening your eyes to meet his gaze. “I’d never let you.”

His smile turns tender, and he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. “Good,” he says simply, before closing the small gap between you and pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is soft, unhurried, a stark contrast to the fast-paced world you both live in. It’s a reminder of what you have, what you’ve built together despite the odds. And as you kiss him back, you feel a warmth spread through you, one that has nothing to do with the lingering heat of the day.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours again, he lets out a small sigh, as if he’s been holding his breath all day and can finally relax. “I hate this,” he admits quietly.

“Hate what?” You ask, your fingers playing with the edge of his shirt, needing the physical connection to anchor you.

“Hiding,” he says, the word heavy with the weight of months, years of secrecy. “I hate that we have to keep doing this, sneaking around like we’re doing something wrong.”

You feel a pang in your chest, because you hate it too. Hate the way you have to pretend to be something you’re not in front of everyone else. Hate the way you have to watch your words, your actions, every time you’re in the same room as him. But more than that, you hate the idea of what would happen if the truth came out. The scrutiny, the backlash, the way it would change everything.

“I know,” you say softly, your fingers stilling on his shirt. “But it’s the only way right now. We both knew that going into this.”

“I know we did,” he replies, his voice tinged with frustration. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

“No,” you agree, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “It doesn’t.”

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and for a while, neither of you says anything. The silence is comforting, a shared understanding that words can’t always convey. It’s moments like these that make the rest of it bearable — the stolen kisses, the secret glances, the knowledge that, no matter what happens, you’ll always have each other.

Eventually, Max pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression softer now, the frustration replaced with something gentler, more resigned. “I just wish it could be different,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” you admit, your heart aching with the truth of it. “But we’ll get through this, Max. We always do.”

He nods, though you can see the doubt lingering in his eyes. “Yeah, we will,” he says, as if trying to convince himself as much as you. “And when we do, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

“Together,” you echo, holding onto the word like a lifeline.

He leans in to kiss you again, and this time, it’s slower, more deliberate, as if he’s trying to memorize every detail, every sensation. And you let him, because you’re doing the same, savoring the feel of him, the taste of him, the way his hand cradles the back of your head like you’re something precious.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, and the world feels a little less heavy, a little less overwhelming. Max rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his breath warm against your skin.

“I love you,” he says, the words so simple, yet so profound in the way they ground you, remind you of what’s important.

“I love you too,” you reply, your voice steady, certain.

He smiles then, that slow, genuine smile that’s just for you, the one that makes your heart skip a beat every time. And in that moment, everything else fades away — the doubts, the fears, the uncertainty of what the future holds. Because right now, in this quiet corner of the paddock, it’s just the two of you, and that’s enough.

For now, it’s enough.

“Come on,” Max says after a moment, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s get out of here before someone comes looking for us.”

You nod, and together, you slip out of the shadows, making your way back through the maze of trailers and motorhomes, hand in hand. The paddock is quieter now, most of the crew having called it a day, and the sky is a deep, dusky blue as night settles in.

As you walk, you can’t help but glance at Max, the way his profile is lit by the dim lights of the paddock, the way his grip on your hand never wavers. It’s moments like these that make it all worth it — the sacrifices, the secrecy, the constant balancing act between your public and private lives.

Because at the end of the day, it’s not the criticism or the articles or even the races that matter. It’s this — being with him, knowing that no matter what, you’ll always have each other.

And as you slip out of the paddock together, unnoticed by anyone, you hold onto that thought, letting it carry you through the darkness, through the uncertainty of what tomorrow might bring.

Because for now, it’s enough.

And that’s all you need.

***

The Hidden Truth: Why I Kept My Marriage a Secret

By: Y/N Y/L/N

For as long as I’ve been a journalist, I’ve prided myself on one thing: honesty. I’ve built a career on asking the tough questions, on digging for the truth even when it’s uncomfortable, and on holding the powerful accountable. That’s why, as I sit down to write this, I find myself in an unfamiliar position — one where I’m the subject of my own scrutiny.

Over the past few years, I’ve become known as Max Verstappen’s biggest critic. I’ve questioned his decisions on track, his attitude off it, and his approach to the sport we both love. I’ve written article after article dissecting his every move, never once pulling my punches. And, in doing so, I’ve created a persona that many have come to recognize — a journalist who isn’t afraid to speak her mind, no matter who she’s writing about.

But there’s something I’ve kept hidden. Something I’ve chosen not to share, not because I’m ashamed of it, but because it’s deeply personal. And now, it’s time to tell the truth.

Max Verstappen is my husband.

Yes, you read that correctly. The man I’ve spent years publicly scrutinizing is the same man I wake up next to every morning, the same man who knows me better than anyone else in this world. We’ve been married for two years, together for even longer, and our relationship is something I hold incredibly dear.

I can already hear the questions — how could I, a journalist dedicated to transparency, keep such a monumental secret? How could I write so critically about the man I love, knowing the impact my words would have? The answers are complex, but I’ll do my best to explain.

When Max and I first started dating, it was easy to keep our relationship private. We were just two people trying to navigate the chaotic world of Formula 1, and neither of us wanted the added pressure of public scrutiny. But as our relationship grew more serious, we both knew that revealing it would come with consequences — not just for us, but for our careers, our reputations, and our personal lives.

So we made a choice. We decided that our relationship was something we wanted to protect, something we wanted to keep just for ourselves. And yes, that meant keeping it a secret from the public, from our colleagues, even from some of our closest friends.

But the secrecy wasn’t about hiding. It was about creating a space where we could be ourselves, away from the cameras, the interviews, the constant analysis of every move we made. It was about having something that was ours and ours alone, in a world where so much is shared, dissected, and often distorted.

Now, as for the criticism — many of you will likely wonder how I could write so harshly about the man I love. The truth is, when I put on my journalist hat, I’m not Max Verstappen’s wife. I’m not Y/N, the woman who loves him. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, the journalist who has a job to do. And that job is to report on the sport objectively, to ask the tough questions, and to hold everyone — including my husband — accountable.

Max knew this from the beginning, and he respected it. In fact, he encouraged it. He didn’t want me to go easy on him just because of our relationship. He wanted me to be true to myself and to my profession, even if that meant writing things that were difficult for both of us. And yes, there were times when it was hard — when I wrote something that hurt him, when we had to have difficult conversations about where to draw the line between my role as a journalist and my role as his partner.

But through it all, we’ve managed to keep our relationship strong, because we both understand that what happens on the track, what’s written in the press, isn’t the full story. The full story is what happens behind closed doors, away from the public eye, in the quiet moments we share when it’s just the two of us.

And now, the secret’s out. I know this revelation will come as a shock to many, and I’m prepared for the questions, the speculation, and yes, the criticism that will inevitably follow. But I want to make one thing clear — I’m not sorry.

I’m not sorry for keeping our relationship private. I’m not sorry for protecting something that means the world to me. And I’m not sorry for continuing to do my job with integrity, even when it meant writing things that were difficult for both of us.

This is our truth. It’s messy, it’s complicated, but it’s ours. And now, it’s out there for the world to see. I’m not asking for understanding or approval, because I know this will be a difficult pill for some to swallow. But I am asking for respect — for my choices, for our relationship, and for the fact that, at the end of the day, we’re just two people who fell in love in a world that’s anything but ordinary.

Max and I are still the same people we were before you knew about us. He’s still the incredible driver you’ve come to admire, and I’m still the journalist who will continue to ask the tough questions, no matter who’s on the other side of them.

The only difference now is that you know the full story.

And I’m okay with that.

***

The Other Side: Why We Chose to Keep Our Love Private

By: Max Verstappen

I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge, whether on the track or off. Racing is in my blood — it’s what I’ve known and loved my entire life. But writing? That’s a whole different race, one where I’m definitely out of my comfort zone. So, when Y/N suggested I write this article, I wasn’t sure if it was such a great idea. But she convinced me — like she always does — so here I am, trying to find the words to explain what’s been one of the most significant parts of my life, one that I’ve kept hidden from the world until now.

As you’ve probably read by now, Y/N Y/L/N, the journalist who has been my harshest critic, is also my wife. Let that sink in for a moment — I know it took me a while to get used to the idea too. Not the fact that she’s my wife, but that the world now knows something we’ve kept private for so long.

When Y/N and I started dating, we had no idea where it would lead. We were just two people who happened to find something special in each other, despite the chaos of our worlds. But as our relationship deepened, so did the challenges. How do you navigate a relationship when one of you is in the spotlight 24/7, and the other’s job is to shine that light as brightly as possible, even when it’s uncomfortable?

We quickly realized that what we had was too important to let the world dictate how we lived it. So, we made a choice — a choice to keep our relationship private, not because we were ashamed, but because we wanted something for ourselves, something that wasn’t up for public debate or scrutiny.

People will ask why we did it, why we went to such lengths to keep it a secret, and the answer is simple: because we had to. Being a Formula 1 driver means living your life under a microscope. Every move you make, every word you say, is analyzed, criticized, and often misunderstood. It’s a pressure cooker, and adding a public relationship into that mix was something we weren’t willing to do.

It wasn’t an easy decision. There were times when I wanted to scream from the rooftops about how much I love this woman, how much she means to me, and how proud I am of her. But I knew that doing so would open us up to a level of scrutiny neither of us wanted or needed. And so, we kept it quiet, we kept it private, and we built something strong and real away from the cameras.

That’s not to say it was without its challenges. Y/N’s articles about me — some of which were less than flattering — were hard to swallow at times. But I respected her too much to ask her to change the way she does her job. She’s a journalist, and a damn good one at that. She has a responsibility to her readers, to the sport, and to herself to be honest, even if that honesty stings.

Did it hurt when she wrote something critical about me? Of course, it did. But I also understood that what she wrote came from a place of integrity, not malice. It was her job to ask the tough questions, to hold me accountable, and to do so without bias. And I loved her even more for it.

You might wonder how we managed to keep our relationship strong despite the secrecy and the criticism. The truth is, we did it by being honest with each other in ways we couldn’t be with anyone else. We talked — about everything. About the articles, about the pressures we were both under, about our fears and our hopes for the future. We made sure that, no matter what happened on the track or in the press, we were solid in our relationship. And we were.

But now that the secret’s out, I know things will change. People will have opinions, and they’ll want to know every detail of how we made this work. They’ll want to dissect our relationship just like they dissect my races. And that’s fine — we knew this day would come eventually.

What I want people to understand, though, is that our decision to keep our relationship private wasn’t about deception. It was about protection. We wanted to protect what we had, to give ourselves the space to grow as a couple without the pressures of the outside world bearing down on us.

I’ve always been a private person, and that’s not going to change just because the truth is out. But I’m also incredibly proud of what Y/N and I have built together. She’s my toughest critic, yes, but she’s also my biggest supporter, my partner, and the person I trust more than anyone else in this world.

So, why write this now? Because I want to set the record straight. I want people to understand that our relationship is real, that it’s built on love, respect, and a shared understanding of what it means to live in this crazy world of Formula 1. We didn’t hide it because we were ashamed — we hid it because we wanted to protect it, to keep it safe from the chaos that surrounds us every day.

And now that the secret’s out, I’m not afraid of what’s to come. I know there will be challenges, but I also know that we’ll face them together, just like we’ve faced everything else.

This is our story. It’s not perfect, and it’s far from simple, but it’s ours. And now, the world knows it too.

***

The sun hangs low over the paddock as you walk beside Max, your hand nestled comfortably in his. The usually bustling environment feels different today, like the air has thickened with anticipation. You can feel the eyes on you — hundreds of them, some curious, some incredulous, all hungry for the next piece of the puzzle that is you and Max Verstappen.

You’ve written about this very paddock more times than you can count. You’ve captured its energy, its chaos, its unpredictability. But today, for the first time, you’re the story.

Max squeezes your hand, a silent reassurance, and you glance up at him. He’s calm, or at least he appears to be. You know him well enough to see the subtle signs of tension — the set of his jaw, the way his eyes scan the crowd with a little more intensity than usual. He’s ready for whatever comes next. So are you, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.

“Ready?” He asks, his voice low, meant only for you.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply, managing a small smile.

The first few steps into the paddock are deceptively quiet, almost serene. But then, as if someone has flipped a switch, the cameras flash, the microphones extend, and the questions start flying at you from every direction.

“Max! Is it true you’ve been married for two years?”

“Y/N, why did you keep it a secret?”

“How does this change your dynamic on the grid?”

“Will you be writing about Max differently now?”

You and Max exchange a glance, a wordless conversation in the middle of the media frenzy. His hand tightens around yours, a steady anchor in the chaos. You can feel the eyes of your colleagues, the other journalists who are now looking at you not as one of them but as a subject. It’s a disorienting feeling, like the world has suddenly shifted and you’re standing in a place you no longer recognize.

Max leans in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “Welcome to my world.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up, a sound that cuts through the tension like a knife. It’s absurd, this whole situation. You’ve spent years writing about him, criticizing him, analyzing his every move, and now you’re on the other side of that scrutiny.

You straighten your shoulders, drawing on every ounce of professionalism you have. This is what you signed up for. You’ve spent years dissecting the lives of others, and now it’s your turn to be under the microscope. It’s only fair.

But Max isn’t letting you go it alone. He steps forward, his presence commanding as he addresses the swarm of reporters. “We’ll take questions, but let’s keep it civil,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The first question comes from a reporter you recognize, someone you’ve shared more than a few press rooms with. “Max, how does it feel to have your relationship with Y/N out in the open?”

Max glances at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It feels good. We’ve wanted to keep this part of our lives private, but now that it’s out, we’re ready to move forward.”

Another reporter jumps in, this one more aggressive. “Y/N, how do you expect to remain unbiased in your reporting now that everyone knows you’re married to Max?”

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm. “I’ve always strived for objectivity in my work, and that won’t change. My relationship with Max is separate from my role as a journalist. I’ll continue to ask the tough questions, just as I always have.”

It’s a carefully crafted answer, one you rehearsed in your head a dozen times before stepping into the paddock. But you can see the skepticism in their eyes, the doubt that you can truly keep your professional and personal lives separate. It stings, but you knew it was coming.

Max’s voice cuts through the murmurs. “Y/N has always been one of the best in the business, and that’s not going to change just because we’re married. If anything, she’ll probably be even harder on me now.”

There’s a ripple of laughter, a brief moment of levity in the tension-filled space. But it’s short-lived. The questions keep coming, each one sharper than the last.

“Max, do you think your performance on the track will be affected now that your marriage is public?”

“Y/N, do you regret keeping this a secret for so long?”

“What about the other drivers? How do they feel about this?”

You’re starting to feel the weight of it all, the relentless pressure of the cameras, the voices, the questions that seem to dig deeper and deeper. But Max is by your side, unwavering, and that gives you strength.

“I don’t regret anything,” you say firmly, your voice cutting through the noise. “Max and I made the decision to keep our relationship private because it was what was best for us. We wanted to protect something that mattered to us, and I don’t think anyone can fault us for that.”

Max nods, his hand still wrapped around yours. “We knew this would come with challenges, but we’re ready to face them together.”

There’s a moment of silence, a pause as the reporters digest your words. But you know this isn’t the end of it. The scrutiny, the questions, they’re not going to stop anytime soon. You’ve become the story, and that’s something you’ll have to live with.

But as you stand there, side by side with Max, you realize that you’re okay with it. You’ve spent years writing about other people’s lives, their triumphs and failures, their relationships and rivalries. Now, it’s your turn to be in the spotlight, and you’re ready for it.

“Max, Y/N,” a voice calls out, one of the more seasoned journalists you’ve always respected. “What’s next for you two? How do you plan to navigate this new chapter?”

Max looks at you, his eyes softening. “We’re going to keep doing what we’ve always done. I’ll keep racing, Y/N will keep writing, and we’ll keep supporting each other every step of the way. This is just another challenge, and we’re more than ready to face it.”

You nod, feeling a surge of confidence. “We’re not going to let this change who we are or what we do. We’ve always been a team, and that’s not going to change now.”

There’s a finality to your words, a sense that you’ve said all there is to say. The reporters sense it too, the questions starting to taper off as they realize they’re not going to get anything more out of you today.

Max squeezes your hand one last time before turning to the crowd. “Thanks, everyone. We’ll see you in the media pen.”

With that, he starts to lead you away, but not before you catch the eyes of a few of your colleagues. There’s a mix of emotions there — some understanding, some curiosity, and yes, some judgment. But you don’t let it get to you. You’ve spent your career building a reputation, and one revelation isn’t going to tear that down.

As you walk away from the crowd, Max’s arm slips around your waist, pulling you close. “Not so bad, huh?” He murmurs.

You laugh softly, leaning into him. “Speak for yourself. I think I’ll stick to writing the articles, not being the subject of them.”

Max chuckles, his breath warm against your temple. “Now you know why I’m not a fan of the media. Present company excluded, of course.”

“Of course,” you echo, smiling up at him.

The paddock is still buzzing with energy, the usual pre-race preparations in full swing. But you and Max walk through it with a new sense of purpose, a newfound clarity. The secret is out, and while it comes with challenges, it also comes with freedom — a freedom to be yourselves, to love each other openly, without the burden of secrecy.

You know the road ahead won’t be easy. There will be more questions, more scrutiny, more judgment. But as long as you have Max by your side, you know you can handle whatever comes your way.

[retroaria]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 boyfriend nagi.ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⊹ ࣪ ˖ another set of bf headcanons finally !! ⊹ ࣪ ˖

warnings: this is post Blue Lock, not a high school!au

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 🌵 - aria

pre-boyfriend!nagi who spends weeks, months even, questioning what exactly it is he feels for you because he just can’t wrap his head around it. doesn’t know why his heart throbs when you say his name, why his hands get sweaty when you sit close to him, why he feels the need to lie about certain things to make himself look better, why he feels the constant urge to just fall into your arms and lay there forever.

pre-boyfriend!nagi who goes to Reo for advice on the matter only to be called an idiot and have his own feelings explained to him at his big age

pre-boyfriend!nagi who now can associate those feelings with wanting a relationship with you, it’s all he thinks about. he yearns for you so bad. wants to have you in his arms, nap with you, teach you how to play games, let you cook for him (and feed him lol), introduce you to choki, show you all his cool soccer moves. it makes him really sad that he can’t just have you already, and it’s gonna be a hassle to ask you out.

pre-boyfriend!nagi who isn’t ready to ask you out but still wants to share his affections with you. He’s very touchy, always hugging you, leaning on your shoulder, brushing strands of hair out of your face so he can see your eyes. Asks you to hang out with him almost every day, even if he knows you’re gonna be busy, he still has to ask just in case you can.

pre-boyfriend!nagi who realizes that holding his feelings in is way more of a hassle than confessing so he does exactly that. He’s very straightforward about it. “Hey, I’ve liked you for a while now. Wanna go on a date?”. If you say yes he’d probably just kiss you on the spot. He hasn’t even taken you on the first date yet but in his head you guys are already dating.

pre-boyfriend!nagi who takes you to an arcade on the first date, beats you at every game, but then wins you a bunch of claw machine stuffies to make up for it.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

boyfriend!nagi who asks you to come live with him early on the relationship. He has such a straightforward mindset that he can’t wrap his head around how you guys are together but not “together”, as in together all the time (if that makes sense). He has to learn the concept of personal space in a relationship and eventually even after you guys start living together understands why he can’t cling to you every second of every day. He’ll still try sometimes and gets sad when you go off to do your own thing but gets over it once he’s preoccupied watching matches or playing games.

boyfriend!nagi who gets jealous very easily, but not in the stereotypical sense. He doesn’t get mad or aggressive when he’s jealous but he’s totally the type to deadpan you with “do you not love me anymore?” If he sees you giving anyone else more attention than him. This feeling he gets isn’t just towards guys or even people your age, it’s anyone. “Why were you talking to that old woman at the store for so long? I was right there.” “Nagi, she was ringing us up, she’s a cashier, it’s her job.” He actually has very little reaction to other guys flirting with you because he simply thinks that’s a stupid thing for them to do and is confident you’ll reject them.

boyfriend!nagi who lets you dress him up, style his hair, do his makeup for fun, would honestly let you give him a tattoo if you really wanted to. His mind doesn’t have negative preconceived notions about many things, and he thinks it’s adorable watching you have fun with him. Really likes when you do his hair just so he can feel your hands on his scalp. Same with doing his makeup, thinks both activities are relaxing and hassle free bonding moments for you two. All he has to do is sit there and look pretty.

boyfriend!nagi who mentions you unconsciously all the time. Along with football and video games, you’re a focal point of his life and you’ve become integrated in almost everything he does or thinks about. So much so that when responding to questions and such, he’ll say “we” more often than ”I”. “Nagi, did you get a chance to watch that match last week?” / “Yeah we watched it the other night.” / “There’s this new manga that just came out I think you’d be into it Nagi.” / “Oh alright, we’ll definitely check it out.”

boyfriend!nagi who drops the love bomb very early on because if he had feelings for you strong enough to even notice or care about, he’s confident it has to be love. He has different variations of “I love you”, the most commonly used ones are groggy and drawn out, “love youuuu~” or “Mhmm, love.” It’s a pet name and a confession all in one, verbal shortcuts make life easier (nagi logic 101). When he really wants you to hear it, he’ll say “I love you” in full but repeatedly. Either while he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck or following you around the house begging you to forgive him for sleeping all day instead of the chores you asked him to do.

boyfriend!nagi who wants to put more and more effort into himself and his lifestyle now that he has you. He wants to be the best he can be, give you everything you want and need, show his love for you in a million different ways. It’s so bad that he sometimes cries to himself thinking about all the ways he might mess up the relationship, he doesn’t know what he would do if you left him, he’d just feel so empty. :((

boyfriend!nagi who clings to you at every moment that he can, his heart stings at the feeling you leaving his grasp even if it’s just for a moment.

boyfriend!nagi who is absolutely whipped and unafraid to admit it. He’s so open and honest about his feelings with you because it’s a pain to not be able to tell you things. Is constantly reminding you how much he thinks about you and yearns for you. So much love with this boy <3

[orlesianhennin]

I really feel like so many people who hate Vivienne for being power hungry do not fully grasp and appreciate the desperation that Vivienne feels because she conceals it so well… as little content as she got, she honestly is expertly written and presented and it’s why it disappoints me so much when people hate her for surface level reasons… her writer deserves so much more appreciation.

I think it is subtle because she hides it and you really have to care about the character to seek out these threads and understand her motivations… she is in danger of total irrelevance, being cast aside by society (and history), and she is forced to ride the coattails of some upstart organization because all of the institutions she is invested in have either totally failed her or cast her aside.

She is clearly a prideful person who does not readily admit this… but her true talent is how clearly she can evaluate this and understand her own position. She suffers no delusions. She knows the Circle’s standing in society is diminished to nothing if it doesn’t house and account for the majority of mages, and she is left with just meek Chantry loyalists and sycophants who are lost without her guiding hand, as even otherwise pro-Circle mages with any sense have abandoned ship and left both rebels and loyalists at this point to see where the chips fall (Ellandra) - and the Chantry itself has been all but decimated in terms of military and political power. The one lifeline she has is the Imperial Court, and the fickle nobility have moved on from her - the mages are now a threat that she cannot control or offer any meaningful opposition to, and Celene’s favor has turned to Morrigan, and Vivienne does not know if she will ever have it again. She knows Bastien is dying, and that all that she has left at court will be those who hold kind feelings towards her such as his family, and that is a position she can never accept - being at the mercy of others.

We meet Vivienne, this impressive, powerful mage, who has made a life for herself by maneuvering brilliantly, all to improve her own standing, at a point where she is in danger of losing everything she has. And she doesn’t let on, at least not explicitly, but she joins the Inquisition out of desperation - it’s obvious she sees it as an opportunity, but the gravity of the situation for her isn’t clear from the start. She refuses to lay down and fade away. Vivienne would never had joined this fledgling upstart organization if she was in a better position at Court or there wasn’t a vacuum of power. She is very close to having nothing left, and starting over - and so she does. Before the rug can be pulled from under her, she gets out and sets off for herself again.

Vivienne, often accused of pride, privilege, and self importance, comes to the Inquisitor out of pure humility. She knows she is reduced. And her gamble ultimately pays off, and the Inquisition becomes the political juggernaut that it does, and she becomes more powerful and important than ever just by association. And I like to think, especially with an Inquisitor who respects and befriends her, that she plays no small part in shaping the organization.

I think this is also why, potentially, she plays it so cool at the Winter Palace. She doesn’t get involved… she doesn’t need to. Simply being present is a statement to the court, and she truly doesn’t care about who wins; it’s not just the Game, it’s personal, despite what she claims. That they cast her aside, and now they are interested again… not necessarily in her, but still, she sees the paradigm shifting again. She is now a part of the organization who gets to change Orlais, and favor with the Inquisition is quickly becoming just as important as favor with Celene.

The whole arc is a subtle one as she really doesn’t get much attention, but if you pay close attention, it shows how expertly Vivienne plays politics. We already know she came from nothing and maneuvered into a powerful position. But I think not everyone realizes she is nearly back to nothing when we first meet her… and through the course of the game’s events, by allying with the right people, she plays the game well enough to become an advisor to the most influential person in southern Thedas… and potentially even Divine. But her initial plea to the Inquisitor, for all the great lengths she goes to keep up the appearance of strength and invulnerability, comes from a place of utter desperation.

[viperbunnies]

"Nothing good ever comes out when I start hoping... but maybe just a little bit."

[Thank you to @.unfinished-projects-galore , @.ai-kan1 and @.stestylius-arts for the assets! Thank you as well to @jovieinramshackle for giving me the inspo to finally start on this, and to @crystallizsch , @angelwishess and @twstgo whose oc intros I took inspo for the layout 🫶]

An outlier from the school, due to his situation he was home-schooled for the majority of his first year. They have decided to accompany the Ramshackle prefect in their daily endeavors, serving as a guide and as a companion in the worn-down dorm.

BASIC INFO.

NAME: Oswald "Oz" Damarys BIRTHNAME: ???? ??????? ALIAS: Oz, Ozzie, Flashlight Fish (Floyd), Monsieur Porcelaine (Rook) Shortie-senpai (Yuudai) AGE: 17 BIRTHDATE: August 26 HEIGHT: 154 cm SPECIES: Half-human half beastmen GENDER: Demi-boy (Uses they/he and masc titles) ORIENTATION: Demisexual ALIGNMENT: Lawful Neutral MBTI: ISFP Voice claim: Here! (Stc)

LIKES: Stargazy pie, Seafood in general, Acrobatics, Crochet, Art in general, Reading, Fairytales, Music boxes, Classical Music, Card games, Mystery books, Sightseeing, DISLIKES:Wishmaking, Shooting stars, Crowded places, Performing, Being observed, People touching his birthmark, His "Luck", Basketballs

Unique Magic Your Next Line is! [ Flash Forward ] — "An indisputable future is what I see... Your Next Line is!" Oswald is able to take a peek into someone's future as long as they keep contact with his pearly white eye. It can be anything from 5 seconds from now or a day later - This visions manifests like rolls of film - Lately It appears his unique magic is going haywire, showing him visions without the need of eye contact. (They aren't pleasant visions)

TRAITS +  Easy-going; Flexible; Warm; Appreciative =  Tolerant; Perceptive; Witty; Impartial -  Overworker; Indecisive; Reliant; Worrisome

BRIEF OVERVIEW (STC)

Oz is a man of many tricks; he was raised to entertain the audience, which is why he is great at lightening up the mood of the room. The many tricks he can do reminds others of a puppy trained on how to play dead, or shake hands. Despite that, Oz actually struggles in actually expressing the his true feelings— used to being the brunt of many jokes growing up, he believes that he is simply a puppet used for the entertainment of others. He sees himself as a hollow doll with no real personality, only meant for display. He is confused about who his truly is, used to what others want to see and not what he wants to show. Slowly, he is realizing that he is merely human, and that he should live for his own sake. (Old info from my notes)

TIDBITS

Random Facts - Part-beastmen, specifically a rabbit beastmen but he lacks actual features aside for his tail that was cauterized off when he was younger - He doesn't look the part but he also likes getting into shenanigans, sometimes instigating Yuu and Adeuce with the pranks they do (No one really believes the trio when they say it was Oz's idea) - He's double jointed which is helpful with his Acrobatic hobby. - Love language is gift giving, and has a tendency to make crochets for other people. They're typically things that remind them of the other. - Has a lot of birthmarks on his face, but he started to cover them with foundation after Floyd made fun of it. - Has a terrible sense of direction so he gets lost easily, but he'd like to travel around the world someday. - He has terrible luck, and while he doesn't believe in superstitions he began to be wary about them. Doesn't want to get knocked out unconscious by a basketball whenever he passes by the gym. - Doesn't really mind being called Oswald, but he associated that to whenever he'd get scolded... so Oz is his more go to nickname.

TYPING QUIRK: - His friend got him into using Kaomojis, he likes the ones with bunny ears. - Likes sending voice messages to get his point across. - Usually types in sentence cases, (although when he isn't feeling well he types in lower cases) SPEAKING QUIRK: - Uses a lot of onomatopoeia to describe unknown things. - Speaks firmly when he feels strong emotions. - Sometimes bites his tongue when he rambles, or not focused. BEHAVIOURAL QUIRKS: - Nose has a tendency to twitch when he’s interested, or irritated. - He also unconsciously thumps his foot when he’s annoyed.

RELATIONSHIPS (WIP)

(Might put a brief overview on their more notable relationships in the future!) Note: - Main Oc x Canon is with Jamil (ignore that pink on silver and jade) - Divus is his foster parent

PNGS BELOW:

p∀ƎH ⅄W NI פNIH┴ƎWOS SI ƎɹƎH┴

[syluriar]

vunerable - sylus x mc!reader

sypnosis: sylus has never been one to give up control, so you try and help him.

a/n: inspired by @yes-no-maybe-soo i legit just read your sylus hc's today and my brain scrambles to write this because althoug i love sylus bing a sub, you made some excellent points of it being hard for him to give up control because of what he went through in his past life (still haven't recovered, anyone else?).

contains: sylus being scared to give up control and not liking these feelings, mc (you) being so gentle with him. there's a slight mention of attmepted murder from sylus' enemies in the past. sylus crying (of that ever happens in game i swear to god-). angst & comfort.

word count: 1381

you straddle him with your hands resting at his hips, his chest is bare that allows you to see his breathing clearer. he's watching you with those ruby eyes you love so much, but you can see a bit of fear in them, unsurprising at the vulnerable position he's in.

it was your idea to do this, to give him the attention he gives you - the warmth, safety and consent. he knows you would never hurt him, but the image of losing all his control reminds him of his past life, as the dragon who has been beaten and chained for thousands of years. when the past you finally freed him he was determined to take control of his life, to never go back to the scared dragon.

he adores you, and you know that, he would do anything for you...but to give up all control, even if it is just you who takes it away...fear creeps back into him.

you lift a hand and reach up to caress his cheek which he immediately nuzzles into to, and he kisses the palm before releasing a sigh,

"it's only me," your voice is so soft, just louder than a whisper, like it was coaxing an animal out of it's shelter. you lean up and cup his face, thumbs brushing against his cheeks. "i'm the only one that's here."

you take one on your hands to gently run through his hair, an action that has him close his eyes to enjoy the feeling, and it makes your heart swell. "we can stop anytime you like, ok?"

a hum comes from his lips as he opens his eyes, and you see that small amount of fear has been replaced by something else.

he hates that you have to him like this, like he's weak, like he's a scared child who needs comforting - he doesn't like that he's showing this side to you, because how can you depend on him if he doesn't stay strong in front of you?

you kiss his forehead and you can feel some of the tension leave his body. a part of you wants to do this fats, you show sylus that yes of course, he can be like this with you, there's no shame and it and you'll always ben there for him , but you need to take it slow. you will show him all these things by listening to him, both words and body. you don't care how long it will take, because it's what he deserves.

you start to leave kisses all over his face, his cheeks, nose, even his chin that makes a small amused huff leave his lips. you're still gentle when you finally place your lips over his own, his hands coming to hold your waist. at any other moment it would be intense, fingers digging into clothing as your tongues fight each other.

but right now it's soft, like a perfect fluffy cushion you relax in. sylus groans at your mouth and you feel good knowing he does too. you see it in his eyes when you pull away, and the slight pink on his cheeks and the tip of his ears.

you giggle. "do you know how cute you look when you blush?"

he sucks in a breath, clearly surprised by your compliment. "cute?" he looks almost amused. "that not a word people associate with me."

"well they don't know you like i do." you give his lips a quick peck to his lips before your hands descend lower to his shoulders, a lot looser than before. "i kinda like it that way."

"and you call me possessive." he chuckles. the air around you two has become easier, the tension slowly fading away.

for some reason your eyes go to his neck, such a strong thing that often aches because of how much he has to look down at you. you move your hands towards his neck, his sharp intake making you freeze.

"oh..." how could you forget a lot of his enemies go for his neck? a common way to end someones life. you felt stupid. "sorry...i was going to massage it. it aches because of how much you have look down on me, doesn't it?"

he doesn't answer you, his eyes cast aside as he continues to breath heavily. your heart aches at the sight and you retract your hands, placing one back on his cheek. "hey, remember, your still in control. stay stop and i will."

his breath shudders and his shoulders tense up once more, his hands now gripping your waist. he sucks through gritted teeth and turns his head away, as if he was ashamed of himself. 

your heart sings with distress at the sight and you want to feel anger of the people that have made sylus this way, but what good will that do here? 

sylus…” you lean your head to meet him and see something shine from his eyes, falling down his cheek.

a tear.

“oh…” you couldn’t hold back at your reach to brush it away, but when your skin makes contact he flinches, and it makes you want to cry yourself. “it’s me, my love. only me. i’m here.” you brush the tear away, fingers gently thumbing in his cheek to help calm him. 

a strangled noise comes from his throat. “i don’t…i didn’t want you to see me like this…” his voice is in a tone you’ve never heard before, one of pain and distress.

“like what?” you reply softly.

he doesn’t answer straight away and you wait patiently, rubbing soothing circles on his shoulders like he had done to yours in times like this. 

“like i am weak, scared…vulnerable.”

you swallow the lump in your throat at his words, each piercing you harshly through the heart. “sylus…there’s nothing with you feeling any of those things.”

“i need to be strong for you.”

“do the strong always require to be strong?”

repeating his own words to him hit him like bricks, his eyes widening and lips parted in shock. ever so gently you cradle his face, his eyes still looking away from you. “wasn’t it you who said that?”

“...it’s not the same.”

“how isn’t it?” you ask, but he doesn’t reply, so you keep talking. “i don’t need you to be strong for me sylus. don’t you think there’s a strongness in being those things? weak, scared and vulnerable?...to me there is.”

your words make him finally look at you, his eyes still holding surprise. “...there is?”

you nod. “even plants and animals have those types of feelings, so you having them is normal. showing them to me is…letting yourself be loved by me even more than you do now. it shows that you trust me to see you this way, and trust me that i won’t turn you away.” 

you lean forward and turn his face to you before grabbing one of his hands and placing it on your chest, your heart beating loudly underneath. “trust me that i will always be patient with you, that i will never rush you and listen to what you say,”

you grab his other hand and bring it to your lips, softly kissing his knuckles and palm before placing it over your cheek. “and trust me that i will always love you, no matter what.”

he hears your love, your utter devotion to him that makes his heart sing. he stares at you with such loving eyes one might say they never knew it existed, but it’s right here, right in this room and in each other's arms.

he kisses you with such intensity, with such love that it almost makes you fall. with your hands on his shoulders you meet his passion, his devotion, his affection and so much more. he cradles your face as your lips part, heavy breaths falling from both. 

“i love you too, my beloved, so so much.”

he holds you tightly with his head buried in your neck, your arms around his neck and brushing through his hair.

you don’t care how many times this needs to happen, to assure him of your love and devotion, of your patient and his consent. 

because you will never, ever hurt him - he deserves better.

[jalicecookie]

Purple Haired Friend

You're visit the set of Squid Game 2 , to surprise your Father Ha-neul Kang. Unfortunately, you get lost while searching for him and end up near the men's toilets, completely shy and lost of orientation. Luckily for you, an Actor with black and purple hair and a big heart , is your savior. Or in short Words - Seung-hyun helps a Toddler to find her Father on the set of Squid Game 2.

⁓ A little Gift for the very talented @thanosscross. The Way you write Seung Hyun is super inspiring and made me try my very ever first Jump , into writing something, that is about the filming Set of an Series/ the Actor Career Focus Point. I can imagine that T.O.P// Seung Hyun as a very gentle soul , with a good Heart for Kids, so yeah i hope i could surprise you with this small Project <3 ⁓

Check out her Stories and her Works she wrote, it is very good and i enjoy every Post from he that shows up on my Dashboard :-)

TW: None, just a lot of Cuteness and Fluffness (at least i tried to write it so ^^)

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

"….Appa will definitely be happy to see us, it will be a great surprise! Sometimes there are a lot of people on a set, he said, so we have to be good and not cause any trouble, okay? And when we see Appa, we'll shout "surprise" really loudly, okay?" - the words of your big brother Min-Jun come into your field of vision, as does the face of the 9-year-old, while your mother parks the car in the studio's visitor parking lot and puts on the handbrake.

It was a special day and, unlike your older brother, you still can't understand the bigger picture , behind your father - Ha-Neul-Kang's - public life and the man's associated success as an actor in film productions and television series.

For you, since you have better understood the rough structure of the day, it is completely normal that your father comes home earlier or later due to the working day and the overtime during filming.

Sometimes you visit him as a family on the set of different productions and in most cases you hardly notice the hustle and bustle and the crowds of people on the studio premises.

In the past , you usually slept through the whole drama or shyly fled into your mother's arms and avoided all eye contact… it was strange to often see your father under makeup and with a different haircut, it always took a lot of convincing for your father to really convince you that this stranger was not a strange person but still your Appa.

You were always more of a shy, timid toddler and your third birthday, which you celebrated together with the family a few days ago (Ha-Neul specially blew up the balloons on the decorated dining room table himself and hoped that they would blow out the candles on the chocolate cake for you!) didn't really change much… well… apart from the fact that your big brother seemed to somehow lure you out of your shell with his euphoria about the surprise visit.

"Surprise!" you say, giggling and clapping your hands once.

"Not until we see Appa and are allowed to go to him, Silly," your big brother replied and helped you to unbuckle the seat belt of the child seat before your mother picked you up and took Min-Jun's hand to go through security together and then let one of the nice crew members lead you through the long corridors and hallways of the set.

"Mommy? Down? wanna walk like Min-Ju" - you say as you make a short stop and are near the cafeteria, where your mother and brother meet a family friend (mother and daughter) whose father also stars in the Netflix series Squid Game and they start talking.

"You stay with Mommy and Min-Ju, okay? Don't run away or walk off okay", - your mother said to you as she slowly put you on the floor. You obey…for a period of 2 minutes…the adult women talk, your big brother and the big girl talk too and…oh does that one adult look like your dad? In the suit…sometimes your dad wears a similar suit.

You tug on your mommy's sleeve once but she is so engrossed in the conversation with the other adult, that she didn't notice for the moment…and your big brother started playing rock paper scissors with the other girl and then a mini version of tag…what if the man in the suit was Appa and wouldn't hear if they all shouted surprise?

You look away from your mother and big brother, the man in the suit is talking to another adult and then walks away from the hallway…you can still hear the parting words of the suit wearer's conversation partner echoing over to you.

"…..you should go to the mask trailer - Gong-Yoo"

Gong-Yoo….wasn't that the last name that Mommy and Appa sometimes use to answer a phone call - Kang….Gong-Yoo…..that sounded kind of the same and since you couldn't see the man's face for the moment, you decided to do the most sensible thing your little 3-year-old brain was capable of - follow the suit man who could possibly be your father. Great idea right?

Maybe it was because the set of a series production was so crowded that several people were bustling around the aisles and a school class was visiting that no one noticed how clumsily and shyly you were simply following the man in the suit, like a little duckling blindly following its mother duck… until you lost your bearings because the man whose name sounded so similar to the name your parents always use to answer boring adult calls, of course didn't know or notice that someone was following him.

(How were you supposed to know that the actor playing the salesman/recruiter would just take a quick bathroom break before going to the make-up room and that he just happened to wear a similar suit to your father at premieres and press conferences/interviews was really mean of fate, wasn't it?)

In any case, you lose sight of the man because you quickly lose sight of your father and find yourself completely clueless and shy in front of the men's toilets in the studio. You look around uncertainly, but there is no sign of the suit wearer or your father anywhere…where were Mommy and Min-Ju again?

You stumble somewhat aimlessly into the area of ​​the sinks in the men's restroom in the hope of spotting the suit there, but here too there was a gaping emptiness…you became afraid and were about to cry quietly when the footsteps approached and suddenly stopped.

"Hello - are you lost, young lady?"

You flinch and look up for a moment…not far from the sinks stood an adult in a green suit and purple-black hair. His look seemed to be confused and surprised at the same time to find a young child completely alone in the bathrooms…but your overwhelm and fear made this question and the appearance of the strange man, even more threatening for you…where was your family?

You shake your head, sniff fearfully and shyly take a few steps back towards the toilet cabines.

Now the first tears are running down your cheeks and a quiet whimper escapes you.

"Mommy! Appa! Min-Ju!" - you cry quietly and of course you don't trust the strange adult one bit.

You have always been shy around strangers and just wanted the safety of your family around you.

"Did you got lost? Were is your Family? Oh no, we can look for them together?" - the voice of the man with the purple hair took on a very cautious and calming tone as you keep backing away and land backwards on your bottom in your fear of this overwhelming situation.

"You don't need to be afraid…actually…I think I'll just sit down for a litle while as well okay?" - the tone was still calming and you still watched with fear and uncertainty as the purple adult man simply sat down cross-legged on the floor a few steps away from you and gave you space…he didn't go any further towards you and with this gesture he put himself at eye level with you…which in this case was not only very sensitive, but also the right decision for your shy nature.

There was silence for a moment and your quiet crying echoed off the high ceilings of the bathroom.

"Is orange your favorite color? Look, two of my fingernails are orange too," said the man in a now shy tone…just like you feel, shy and unsure.

You briefly look down at the color of the orange jacket you are wearing.

It is your favorite jacket…and one of your favorite colors. At home you have orange rubber boots with little ducks on them.

Mommy said you can't wear those rubber boots today, because it hasn't rained.

"Orange?" - you say carefully and tap your T-shirt once and then you cast a very cautious glance at the purple adult , who is still sitting cross-legged on the floor and holding out his hand to you so that you can see that one of his fingernails is also orange.

Then the stranger held out his other hand to you, one of the fingernails was also painted orange.

"One…two…two orange" - you say, looking from the stranger's hands back to your T-shirt and lowering your gaze again.

"Do you know the other colors to? My Fingernails very colorful today aren´t they?" - the adult said kindly, somewhat in his shy tone, and the fact that he stayed where he was and made no attempt to simply pick you up or even grab your hand or otherwise pressure you, made you look up in dismay… and crawl very carefully closer to the man, at arm's length of course - to look at the other colors on his fingernails.

He was right… there were other colors besides orange. What colorful fingernails.

"That's right, it really does look like a rainbow, hm? May I ask what your name is, young lady? My name is Seung-Hyun," - the adult replied with a quiet laugh at the rainbow comparison.

It took a moment, until you could come out of your shell a little further and shyly answer the question…but the interest in the dark colors on the back of Seung-hyun's hand captured your interest.

"Me - Nali.....Ouchie on Seung hand?", was your reply.

A gentle smile creeps onto the adult's face as he answers your question.

"This one? Oh no, it's a tattoo… well, not a real one, it's just color, but shhh, don't tell, okay Nali?", he said playfully and a few moments later he makes a shhh gesture by holding a finger in front of his mouth.

You imitate him and carefully do the same.

Then your gaze slides back to the adult's hair and you tilt your head for a moment.

"Hair too, shhh - secret?" - you ask, pointing to the man's purple-black hair.

"Not really, but I know a magic trick - what do you have behind your right ear, Nali?", said Seung in surprise and his right hand went once in the direction of your left ear before you heard something jingling and looked surprised into Seung's still closed hand.

"What's behind Nali's ear? Magic trick?", you said now, a little curious.

"Hm… it sounds like… you can't find a coin? But… oh, I can't open my hand, the magic trick was probably too difficult for me… can you maybe help me?", said Seung to you in surprise and when he tried to open his fist, he couldn't do it even with all his effort… that must have been a pretty difficult magic trick!

You nod, thawing out a little more with every passing minute and Seung's calm, level-headed and slightly shy manner suits your own insecure character, he is just right when dealing with you and the fact that he can do magic is a great bonus.

"Nali help Seung… but how?" you ask and nod once.

"Okay Nali… we'll both say the magic spell now - and then you have to tap my fist once, OK?"

You nod again and after your new friend whispers the magic spell to you very quietly, you do exactly what he told you and oooooh it worked! After you carefully tapped Seung's closed fist, the adult was able to open it very slowly and one of the rings appeared (which he had previously taken off without you noticing)

"Magic! Ring! Nali helped!" - you say in surprise and clap your hands once.

"Well done Nali… would you like to hold the ring for me for a moment? I don't want to lose it… if you want to hold my hand, we could see if we can find your family?" - Seugn suggested and you very slowly and carefully take the ring and nod slowly.

Your haired purple friend was nice to you and you slowly stand up, bridge the last few steps and very carefully reach for the hand - or rather the little and ring finger of Seugn's right hand, while your free hand holds the ring proudly and importantly.

Seugn slowly stands up too and nods at you in praise before you leave the sanitary facilities of the men's toilet together.

In the hallway, Seugn makes sure that you don't get lost, but you continue to hold onto his little finger and ring finger, as you walk on the adult's right side and repeatedly make cautious eye contact with him.

He asks you, among other things, if you know where you last saw your family, if you know the names of your mommy and your appa and how old you are.

You know the answer to some of the questions, but you just shake your head to the others and when a group of crew members pass you, you press yourself closer to the man's leg for protection.

"Oh, thank God! Nali!" - your father's voice echoes across the hallway and both Seugn and your steps stop - you don't let go of your new purple-haired friend and look in the direction from which your father's voice echoes to you.

A short exchange of words followed between Seugn and Ha-Neul before your mother and big brother joined the group and expressed their relief at finding you.

You, still holding Seugn's hand, cast a long, critical look at your Appa… before you burst into a childish giggle and utter the following unfiltered words.

"Appa long hair! No purple ! Appa look funny!"

Your parents told you again , that it wasn't okay to just run away like that (they worried a lot) and that they were very grateful to , Seugn for finding you and bringing you back.

And yet you were a little sad, when you had to say goodbye to your new purple-haired friend - because he had to shoot a new scene with the other actors very soon.

Seugn forgot to take the ring back, though.

By pure Coincidence.

Of course.

THE END

[43qh]

talk for a minute? (m)

quinn hughes x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut, fluff

warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, yearning, self-doubt, rejection

word count: 4.6k

summary: your own vows to not associate with anyone your last year in college all comes crashing down the second quinn hughes enters your life.

you made vows.

vows to yourself, at least. you’ll focus on studies, graduate with honors this coming year, no distractions. you made fucking vows. so when a man named quinn hughes has sudden interest in your loneliness, you scowl. your snarls and distaste in his presence hasn’t made him go away. not yet, at least.

quinn randomly popped into your life when he sat across you in your campus library. his eyes gleamed a pretty color you didn’t want to discover too deeply. you raised an eyebrow at the time, not sure why a man was sitting across from you, no books in hand. you didn’t know quinn back then. quite frankly, you didn’t know many people. you were a loner, if you will. you hated the term, though. you just chose your studies over friendships.

people could call you a prune all they want, it never deterred you. at least you’d graduate with your head held high.

so, when quinn approached you that day with a glimmering “hi”, you scowled. and he would try every day for the past three weeks trying to get something different, but it never worked. but he never stopped approaching you. never stopped pursuing you.

when quinn doesn’t show up at his usual time, you’re a little muddled in your seat. quinn made it a point to be punctual in your ‘meet ups’. so, when he comes an hour late, you scrunch your eyebrows at him.

he clears his throat a bit, trying to remain quiet in the library, “hi.”

you almost scowl in his face, but your demeanor was falling apart in front of his eyes. you sit still, “you’re late.”

quinn’s eyebrows raise, but he can’t stop the smile errupting on his face, “you noticed?”

you scoff, looking back at your books. he wanted you to notice. he wanted you to react. he craved it.

quinn rests his chin on his hand, elbow on the table, “if you’re wondering where i was-”

“i wasn’t.” you snark.

“-i had to call my mother. we do this monthly thing where she checks in on me.”

quinn being a mommy’s boy made you want to smile. you didn’t know much about quinn. you knew he played hockey, had two brothers, had lots of friends, and you knew girls flocked at him. quinn wasn’t bad looking. maybe he knew he was a looker, who knows. but knowing he was also a mama’s boy, added to your short list of what you knew about quinn. it was almost charming.

if only you didn’t have a reputation to uphold.

you don’t even nod in acknowledgment to his words about the call with his mother. you don’t look up, you don’t stop typing on your laptop. and quinn just sits like usual, in silence. you’re not sure what game he’s playing at, but you’re not sure you’re going to like it, whatever it is.

you didn’t even know the man’s name before he approached you, and now you know more than you’d like to. it made you scoff in your head.

only in his wet dreams will he get a chance to talk to you.

you hate this.

you hate that quinn’s silence was starting to become a comfortable daily routine. you hated that you were starting to anticipate his entrance. you hated the coil in your stomach when he approached you after giving a familiar handshake to one of his friends.

you hate him.

he’s a nuisance. always in the way when you’re trying to concentrate. in all reality, you could probably find another place and spot to study. but you knowingly chose not to. and that’s really what kills you. you were tormenting yourself on purpose.

you were hating him on purpose.

“hi,” his familiar voice rings in your ears as you take notes.

you want to say ‘hi’ back. you want to greet him properly, let him into your world. you want to become apart of his world, maybe. your mind wins over your heart, though.

you stay silent, not daring to look up in fear that you’ll crack. quinn never pushes you for conversation. he simply sits quietly until you’re done with your studies for the evening. maybe that’s what drew you towards him. he was patient, never really, truly invading your space. quinn just sat in your bubble, silently scrolling through his phone. he doesn’t even strike up conversations, he just sits there.

is this infatuation?

were you really wanting to break vows for a man you barely knew?

you lick your lips, eyes flickering towards him for only a second, maybe even less than that. he was handsome, from what you gathered. he dressed nicely, his clothes neat and not a wrinkle in place. your nostrils flare as you get a small whiff of his cologne from where he sat. earthy and light.

he looked a bit too good to be true.

you sigh softly, eyes focused on your paper in front of you. your exams are close, and you can feel the anxiety start to creep up.

you were so consumed by quinn for the past few minutes that you were slightly behind on your preferred schedule. you frown, making sure to bury your nose deep into your notes.

you weren’t sure, but you swore you could see a soft smirk on quinn’s lips out of the corner of your eye.

your resolve was disappearing.

quinn’s hair was wet, dressed in a loose sweater and sweatpants. his hands grip his phone a bit too tight. he greets you with a grunt, unusual to his chipper tone. it sent a shock down your spine. were you supposed to react that way to a frustrated man?

you sigh, trying your best to concentrate, but something was clearly bothering quinn as his brows furrowed in anger. your heart was aching for him.

god, you were aching for him.

as the weeks pass, doubt clouds your mind. what if this was a game to get you to talk? what if he just wanted what every other man wanted? what if he was playing with you?

all doubt leaves your mind for the moment when you notice the slouch in his posture.

“you okay?” you ask with a meek voice. it wasn’t like you to appear shy, someone with less resolve than what they’re credited for. but quinn breaks all your rules.

quinn looks up at you with a raised brow, “you’re asking?” his tone was playful.

you wanted to scoff and turn back to your books, but your body reacts quicker than your mind. “yeah.” you breathe. you sound out of breath, looking at him with a shy glint that almost drives him a bit crazy.

you were just so precious to him.

quinn didn’t see you as shy, quite the opposite actually. but seeing you fall apart just talking to him? he couldn’t help the fact that it boosted his ego. you were kind of known for blowing people off. so, when you asked about his well-being, he felt like he had to get on his knees for you.

not that he’d admit it.

“lost a game,” quinn tilts his head at you. watching your every move like you were bound to cower away any minute.

you nod, adverting eyes just for a split second before you’re greeted with a smirk on his lips. you twist in your seat a bit, “you’re smirking.”

“how am i supposed to stay composed?” he questions, leaning closer so his chest presses against the desk separating the two of you, elbows on the table, fingers interlocked after putting his phone down, “you’re just so cute when concerned.”

you puff your cheeks out, looking away from him completely. you wanted to brush off his compliment like you do with everyone else. you wanted to dig your nose in your books. you wanted to even possibly disappear.

at some point, you lose track of time. you’re not sure how long the two of you have been sitting in that awkward silence while you collect yourself. you’re not sure how long quinn has been looking at you.

you just know it’s longer than you would have liked.

“you’re conceited to think i was concerned,” you look at your laptop, not really bothering with your notes anymore, just simply looking away from quinn.

“so, you’re not?” he asks, leaning his head on his hand now.

you scoff, “you wish i was.”

“so what if i do?” he raises an eyebrow, “you barely know how to even look at me. i think it’d be a privilege to be cared by you.”

you squirm a bit in your seat, “what gives you that privilege then?”

quinn shrugs his shoulders, “only you know that.” he pauses, leaning back in his seat as he continues observing you, “but i’d be more than willing to get it, work hard for it. i know you’re a hard worker, how about letting me take over the hard work?”

you lick your lips, his words sounding more suggestive than you’d like them to. it sounds appealing to you. “work for it, then, i guess.”

quinn’s mouth sparkles in an infamous smile that makes your stomach flip, “giving me permission?”

you look at him finally, studying the way he looks at you. like you’re a challenge he’s not willing to give up on so easily.

“only for you.”

quinn doesn’t want to seem to ecstatic at your words, but he also hates the idea of you thinking he’s ungrateful. truth is, he’s more than ecstatic. he’s fucking off the wall happy. when those words slipped past your beautiful lips, he could hear birds start singing, he swears.

as the days pass, he slowly learns a little more about you. he can see how frightened you are. he can sense that a part of you hates this. hates the idea of him knowing you more than anyone else but yourself. he knows you’re guarded.

quinn doesn’t let it distract or deter him, though. he just patiently and slowly gets to know you more and more. he finally knows your favorite color, your favorite fruit, your favorite sweet. basic stuff that would normally bore someone, but in quinn’s reality, anything you give him is like gold. he even starts wearing your favorite color more often.

you notice the effort, and you can’t say you’re not affected by it. the closer you get to quinn, the more scared you get. but, also, the more curious you get. you would be lying if you said you weren’t interested in quinn, as well.

for all you knew, you could be signing up for your own downfall. but so could he.

maybe quinn wasn’t out to get you.

you sighed, sitting on your dorm bed. your roommate had gone out like she usually does, leaving you alone in the room. your thoughts start to bounce a bit, drifting towards quinn, against your better judgement.

as you’re about to lay down after showering and changing into something comfortable, you hear a knock. you scrunch your eyebrows, wondering if your roommate forgot her key. when you open the door and are instantly greeted with a big smile from such a gruff man, you feel shock down to your feet.

“how are you here?” your voice was incredulous, looking at quinn with big eyes.

“walked,” he shrugged, licking his lips with a smirk on his face.

“no, i mean,” you roll your eyes, “how do you know my dorm?”

“your roommate told me.” he looks at you, “saw her walking down the hallway, and she said that if i was looking for you, you were here.”

of course she did. your roommate didn’t exactly disrespect your boundaries, but she definitely did want you to get out there more. she was kind and more extroverted than you’d ever be. you figured at some point she would catch on to the fact that quinn was around you. it’s not like she never caught the two of you at the library talking.

you huff, “so you thought it was okay to come here?”

quinn shrugs, “thought maybe we were getting closer.”

you bite your lip, and quinn’s eyes travel downwards on instinct. oh how he wished he could just kiss you. he had been thinking about it for awhile. a lot longer than he’d like to admit.

“i guess,” you finally answer, looking into his eyes with vulnerability and uncertainty. he so desperately wanted to wash away all your doubts. especially the one’s about yourself.

“gonna let me in?” he quirks an eyebrow, expecting you to scoff in his face and shut the door on him. but you do the opposite, stepping aside and nodding your head.

“my roommate will be gone for awhile.” you state as he steps inside with cautious steps. you could feel the tension increase the second the door closes.

quinn’s eyes looked concerned, “are you sure this is okay with you? i mean i-”

you nod, stepping closer to him, “yeah, i don’t mind.”

you wanted to say how much you hated the way you could smell his specific cologne and soap. you wanted to say how much you hated how close the two of you were. you wanted to say how much you hated how badly you wanted to kiss him.

but all the hate burns into something different. a beautiful pit in your stomach that makes you step even closer to him.

quinn tenses up at your advances, looking at the way your night shorts rose higher along your thighs. seeing the way your shirt dipped. it made him visibly gulp. you were a sight for sore eyes, and he was afraid he would lose control if you continued your advances.

you could feel his breath fan your face in anxious waves, making you smile to yourself at just how nervous he actually gets around you. he had a strong, flirtatious resolve. just like you had a strong, reserved resolve. maybe the two of you weren’t too different, afterall.

you stand still, and the room goes quiet. you don’t move any further, waiting and anticipating quinn’s next move in action. it all felt slow-motion. something out of a movie, maybe.

quinn slowly raises a hand to your cheek, and you lean into his touch. he let’s out a breath of relief, your eyes connecting. it felt like the world stopped spinning for him. like he was looking straight into the eyes of an angel.

he could feel your skin start to burn at his touch, and he wanted to touch you everywhere after that. he wanted to break, fall apart into your arms and take what you give to him. take what you allow.

god, maybe he was falling in love.

“lost for words, hughes?” your face was still cradled into his hand, and he swallows.

he’s breathless, “i think so.”

your smile ignites something within him.

you were burning a fire within him that he couldn’t contain.

“don’t speak, then.” you say, eyes glimmering in the soft shade of your lamp in your dorm.

he can’t stop himself from leaning to close the gap between the two of you. he stops just before your lips touch, looking for approval. he sees the way your eyes flutter close, and he takes it as a sign to softly press his lips to yours.

quinn fears for his life the second your lips touch. he fears he will never get enough of this. little does he know that when you reach up to place your hand in his hair, you’re thinking the same thing.

your lips move slowly, languidly. it’s like the two of you want to embrace the moment as it is. something just as simple as a kiss, but just as complex as a blossoming relationship.

quinn has careful hand placements, staying on your face while the other is lightly tugging you closer by your back. you have a hand in his hair still, your other placed respectfully on his chest.

it’s a kiss you never imagined having. a kiss you never thought you wanted until this very moment. your whole world shifts on its axel and you become consumed by the way his beard brushes against you, the way his lips capture yours in a sweetness like honey.

you were trapped in quinn’s hold.

quinn was trapped in yours.

“how can you just say no?” quinn’s eyebrows furrow in frustration. he feels a slight sense of danger in the pit of his stomach when you turn to look at him.

“i don’t date, i don’t do dates. i can’t date.” you shook your head, scowling as you continue your walk towards your dorm. you felt like you were in some kind of romance show, and you hated it.

“says who?” quinn asks, following your trail like a puppy. he isn’t very subtle about how eager he has been to get to know you more as the days passed since you kissed. quinn became slowly more and more affectionate, throwing you off and messing with your head.

you purse your lips before responding, “says me.”

“so, you’re just going to reject me? for what reason?” quinn couldn’t understand you. he thought the two of you were genuinely getting closer. that he finally had a shot with you, especially after such a kiss that still sends tingles down his spine.

you’re almost at your door before quinn gently grabs your hand, making you stop in your tracks at the touch. he wasn’t pulling you towards him, no force involved in the act. it was all just pure instinct on your behalf on why you stopped.

you close your eyes and sigh before turning to look at him, “i need to make sure i graduate with honors, quinn. i made vows that i wouldn’t get involved with anyone, not even friends.”

“why? what good does that do?” quinn’s hand is cold against your own, “you’re doing so well. i’ve seen how hard you work, nobody can take that away from you. especially not me, i don’t even want to. i just want to..” he pauses, looking around as his cheeks turn a pretty pink, “i just want to be with… you.”

you want that too.

and your eyes soften at all the effort he has put in to getting to know you. to getting past all the doubts and walls you built up. no one has ever made the effort to know you as well as he does, and you’re not sure you’ll ever find that again if you let him walk away.

the idea of him no longer pursuing you and wanting you makes your heart ache. you wished you could hate it, but in all reality, you knew you wanted to keep pursuing and wanting him, too.

you were so used to being left alone before quinn arrived.

now you couldn’t imagine a day where quinn wasn’t there.

so, with strength, you grip his hand back. your warm hand surprises him when he feels your reassuring squeeze. he swears he could fall to his knees, kiss the ground you walk on. instead, he opts for kissing you.

it’s so rushed, emotions taking over as he grips your waist as if you’ll disappear. guilt washes over you when you realize that he does fear you’ll disappear. that you’ll walk away the second he stops kissing you.

you inhibitions are thrown out the window when quinn grabs your hand again, guiding you towards your dorm. you let out a soft laugh at his eagerness when he pulls the keys out of your jeans pocket to open the door. he sighs the second he realizes your roommate isn’t there, so fucking relieved.

he turns to kiss you again when he hears you shut your door, going back to how it had been just a few second ago. he was eager, so eager. he couldn’t help the way his hands trailed beneath your shirt and beneath your bra to cup your breast. he feels the gasp you let out between kisses, making him groan as he pinches your nipple just a couple times before pulling back.

you look disheveled, and he was so honored to be the reason why. when you approach him, he steps back. you frown, looking at him with concerned eyes.

“strip.” his words are demanding as he sits at the foot of your bed. he leans back, hands resting on your mattress. you swallow down your pride, quickly making rid of your shirt and bra. “all of it.”

his tone was husky, making you clench your legs together before following even more of his demands. it was like he had hold on you. he watched with hungry eyes, trailing all across your body as your lacy panties fall down with your jeans, leaving you vulnerable and left in nothing but socks.

he hums in appreciation before beckoning you towards him, and you don’t dare refuse. “i’m a bit underdressed here.” you whisper, and quinn chuckles a bit. he tugs at the seam of his shirt, pulling it over his head. he makes quick work of the buttons on his jeans and his boxers follow suit. you gasp a bit at the sudden action, adverting your eyes from his cock as it sprung up against his stomach.

quinn smirks to himself when he notices how shy you really, truly are. he grabs at your hand to bring you back to reality, your eyes meet, and it takes everything in him not to devour you completely. how could someone with such a strong head, have such a beautiful doe eyed expression when vulnerable?

“there you go, baby.” the nickname consumes you, swallowing you whole. your ears are ringing as you walk closer to him, feeling the soft pull of his hand to tug you towards him. “you’re gorgeous.”

he sounds breathless, like he’s seen nothing like it before. like it’s his first time seeing someone naked. it’s not, but you’re definitely the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in that very moment.

you make way to straddle him, and he hums in happiness, a smile spreading across his features. “want this cock, sweetheart?” he tilts to look at you, holding your face in one of his hands so you don’t look away.

you lick your lips, eyes glossy as they stay connected with his, “yes.”

quinn smiles, placing a soft kiss to your lips before flipping the two of you over. you let out a soft sound at the sudden change of scenery, him hovering over you with a determined look in his eye.

quinn reaches down, feeling just how soaked you are. “oh?” he perches an eyebrow up, slipping his fingers through your folds, “so wet already, could slide right in.”

“please,” your voice is meek, small but still breaking through the tension just enough to gather quinn’s attention. it honestly drives him crazy.

quinn groans, “wanted to tease you a bit more,” he says in defeat as he begins to line his cock up with your tight entrance, “but it’ll have to wait another time. really need to fuck you. been needing it for weeks.”

his confession makes the stretch he causes all the more pleasurable when he finally pushes in. you were so tight, making him stop the second he bottoms out. he really couldn’t handle cumming too fast right now.

your sounds are symphonies. he listens to every single one, making sure to pack them away for days he needed release and thought of you. he can feel the way you’re gripping so tightly onto his shoulders, almost like you’re trying to ground yourself.

everything about this moment was electrifying.

quinn kisses your temple, “gonna move, okay?” he waits for your eager little nod before he continues. he’s slow at first, groaning at the tight pull your pussy gives him. “you feel like a fucking dream.” his voice is coarse, struggling to keep composure.

you buck your hips up, “more. need more.”

he can’t stop himself now. not when your voice comes out in whiny little gasps. not when you’re rolling your hips up to feel even more of him. no, not when you’re allowing him to have you.

you gasp when he picks up speed, eyes rolling back as he hits a spot inside you that has you wrapping your legs around his torso. quinn observes all of your reactions, making note of where to thrust, how hard, how fast. and it all feels too good.

he can feel your fingers digging into his shoulders, your moans becoming increasingly louder with each thrust of his hips. it was all so magnetic, so natural between the two of you. nothing felt awkward as he fucked you.

when you start to feel a tug in your lower belly, you tug on his hair, “quinn..” you gasp, opening your eyes and seeing the sweat starting to form on his forehead. “fuck, i’m-”

“i know, can feel you clenching, baby.” quinn picks up his pace, more eager than before to see you cum for him. “cum on my cock, know you want to. need to see you, need to feel you.”

you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel the flutter of your cunt around his dick. you cum with a small squeak, moans falling out of your mouth relentlessly. it wasn’t like anything you’ve felt before. your own release triggers quinn’s, he really couldn’t help it with how tight your pussy clung to him and how beautiful you looked cumming for him.

he swears this was his heaven.

he needed you forever.

your labored breathing brought him back to reality as you slowly released your hold on him. he’s quick to grab tissues from your bedside and clean you up.

“uh,” quinn says awkwardly, staring at you after throwing away the tissues, “do you have a shower?” you smile to yourself before nodding, admiring the way he now looks less territorial, and more soft. he nods back before helping you up. “let’s shower, then.”

you don’t argue.

this seemed to be the end of fighting your feelings for quinn hughes.

“i passed!” you exclaim, rushing towards your boyfriend as he makes quick work to catch you in a tight hug. “i did it, quinn!” your smile was so radiant, something he could never stop admiring.

quinn kisses your cheek, “of course you did, baby. i always knew you could.”

you look at him with excited eyes, “they’re all almost perfect scores, quinn.”

quinn nods, a smile adorning his beautiful features, “you’ve always had it in you.” he pauses before smirking, “see? i didn’t distract you too much.”

you scoff, wrapping your arms up around his neck, “you would’ve if i let you.”

quinn shrugs, knowing you were right.

when quinn approached you, you had to battle all your internal battles with yourself. you had to put down your vows for him, and still hold true to your word about graduating with honors. quinn frightened you, but it was in the best way possible.

quinn fought for you when you didn’t want to be fought for. at least, that’s what you thought. you didn’t know you needed someone like quinn hughes in your life before he showed up and turned your world upside down.

it’s such a cliché, it almost makes you sick.

but, for now, you’ll ignore it.

you lean up to kiss your now boyfriend, quinn hughes.

if you had never decided to talk that day in the library, you were sure you wouldn’t be so elated right now.

all it took, was to just talk.

talk just for a minute.

[the-irreverend]

The Inferno Theory: The Chara Theory to End All Chara Theories

Here we are! Nine years of Undertale. And seeing how Chara is heavily associated with the number 9 (AND THAT TOBY FOX FINALLY TALKED ABOUT THEM), I can't think of a better way to celebrate the occasion than by dedicating this 5000-word-long theory about them? Y'all remember when people used to make long-ass theories about Chara? Yeah, they're coming back with a vengeance! To say I have a colossal hyperfixation is a massive understatement. No character in all of fiction has had a bigger impact on my life than this little rose-cheeked, cocoa-addicted freak. I’ve been a Chara fan for as long as I’ve been an Undertale fan, and you can bet that my understanding of them has changed a lot since. And now I have the pleasure of sharing said understandings with y’all!

Once upon a time, there was an aroace autistic who, like most of y’all, had a very unhealthy obsession with Undertale. And unlike most of you, he thought the Genocide Route was really fun. Most fans talk about how unhappy they felt killing everyone, but for me, I felt like a polar bear at a baby harp seal convention. I got a disturbing level of happiness out of turning everyone to dust. Hell, the only unhappiness I felt was when I couldn’t turn Monster Kid to dust.

Oh well, at least I got a good consolation prize!

I was one sadistic son of a gun, and so I was even more delighted to find out I had a secret admirer/partner-in-crime and that they joined in on the fun because I was such a goshdarn inspiration to them. Not wishing to disappoint my self-appointed partner, I erased the world without a second thought, eagerly awaiting what we might get to do together.

So you can guess I was pretty taken aback when, instead of a warm welcome, they started lecturing me about how I couldn’t accept the world’s destruction and that I was the one fully responsible for it (even though they were eager to take credit for it earlier). I didn’t think much of it at first. Initially, I just thought that they were just irritated that I was undoing what we had worked so hard to accomplish.

But as this game taught me time after time, you should never trust your first impressions. Those first impressions would crumble to dust when they said this.

To say I was completely baffled is an understatement. Why the hell would this prepubescent genocidal maniac be so obsessed over whether or not I think I’m above consequences? So obsessed to the point they would tell me to go to hell if I told them no? It was at that moment I realized there was something more to this character than meets the eye. But for a long time, I couldn’t seem to figure out what that something was. And it didn’t seem like anyone could figure that out either.

I’m very much a veteran of the fan wars that have emerged surrounding Chara. In fact, one might even say I am a deserter of sorts, as I am a former member of the Chara Defence Squad, Offense Squad, and Neutralist Squad. But I’m not gonna be a stuck-up and say everyone’s a canon-ignoring idiot except for me and that I’m the only one who knows what Toby Fox intended Chara to be. Even though I ended up with a very different take than yours (and will certainly argue why it’s the best), I owe you all your discussions a huge debt, and I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t gotten invested in your interpretations, to begin with. Not to mention that, contrary to what some may argue, you’ve made some valid points to complement them.

And while the debate that resulted from Chara’s ambiguous morality has led to a lot of controversy and even toxicity, it has also been a source of some FANTASTIC CONTENT. Like seriously, would we have gotten those badass renditions of Stronger Than You if no one thought Chara was an awful person? Would we have gotten Man on the Internet’s beautiful rendition of Star if no one thought Chara was a good person (turned awful)?

It would be utter hypocrisy for me to ask of you to approach me and my arguments (or anyone who accepts them) with understanding and good faith only to then not do the same to anyone who doesn’t agree with me. In this theory, I will definitely argue why some points made about Chara are flawed; points that you might hold yourself. But that doesn’t automatically mean that you (or your takes) are intellectually or morally inferior to mine. And besides, I’m not Toby Fox.

So with that said, why did I eventually came to disagree with pretty much everyone about Chara? Because, one way or another, I couldn’t find a take that clicked with me personally as I felt there were various inconsistencies and issues holding them back. I looked at YouTube videos, subreddits, Tumblr essays, Twitter threads, and even forums on the Steam Community. But I couldn’t really find what I thought were satisfactory answers to the questions I had about Chara’s motivations, role in the game, and relationship with the player.

And then, one day, I found those answers. It all happened when I asked myself: “What if Chara didn’t turn against me… because they were always against me from the start?!”

I don’t mean that Chara only saw you as a means to an end. I mean that YOU were the end. What if Chara didn’t use you so they could screw over the monsters but they used the monsters so they could screw over YOU.

You probably think I’m insane, don’t you? And you’re right! I AM INSANE! AND SO IS THIS WHOLE DAMN THEORY!!! But somehow, someway, it just works!! And I’ll show you why and how!!!

What you are about to read is the culmination of six years of reading and critiquing Chara takes and theories of every kind and quality, whether it be Judgement Boy’s Who is the Real Villain of Undertale to Wandydoodles’ Oblivion Theory. Six years of examining the arguments and counterarguments of Chara defenders, offenders, and neutralists alike. Six years of looking in every corner of the UTDR fandom. From the tranquil lands of Quora. To the dark recesses of Reddit. To the intellectual wastelands of Twitter. To the fiery hellsite of Tumblr. So, without further ado, get ready for some of the most pure, unadulterated, high-octane, universe-collapsing neurodivergence you’ve ever seen in your life!!!!!

Part 1: The demonic heritage of the "demon who comes when people call its name".

Have you ever had one of those moments where you’ve asked yourself, “What the actual hell is this guy talking about?” I bet you’re having that moment right now. Everything about their character post-death, including their motives, their methods, and their relationship with you, is perfectly reflected in one of their most famous (or rather infamous) lines:

When most people hear the word demon, the first thing that comes to mind is a being made of pure evil whose only purpose in life is to destroy all things good in the world. Right?

Well, yes, but actually, no. It’s a little more complicated than that. To argue that Chara is a demon because they’re simply “an evil little twerp that enjoys being evil” doesn’t do them or their role in Undertale justice (although that hasn’t stopped people from trying to argue that). To understand why calling themselves a demon is EXTREMELY important, we need to dive into the wonderful (and totally not controversial) world of religious beliefs!

In ancient and modern religions, demons are a little more complex than just ethereal jackasses with a vendetta against virtue and righteousness. Though they vary from faith to faith, most demons have a specific set of qualities and tropes that make them integral to whatever faith they’re in. You also see these demonic qualities in fiction that’s derived or inspired by religions, and since Undertale’s lore and worldbuilding have a heavy emphasis on the spiritual and divine, you can see them in Chara. Since Undertale is a game of “Western” origin, you can definitely see they share qualities that are all too familiar with devils of “Western” religions. In classic devil fashion, they target those with weak integrities or suspect morals; they tempt you with the promise of fulfilling your desires at your and everyone else’s expense; they’re able to control your body as you grow their power through your sins, and hell, they even do the thing where they make a deal for your soul. Also...

But though it's evident that Chara encourages you to do “evil,” THEY THEMSELVES are not responsible for it. Yes, Chara encouraged you to kill, but YOU are the one who acted on those encouragements. In fact, YOU are the one who encouraged THEM to help you out! They walked down the dark path with you, but you didn’t really give them anywhere else they could walk. You had all the power and every chance to turn back and no reason to keep walking. And yet you persisted.

But that does beg the question, why did you walk it at all? What could possibly inspire you to give all of these characters happiness, satisfaction, and peace and then rip it all away? Because you decided that giving everyone the most satisfying ending was not satisfying enough for you. Because there was more that you could experience for yourself, even if it meant making everyone else experience something absolutely horrific. It wasn’t enough for you to fill the glass only halfway. You needed to fill it to the brim. You wanted to reach the absolute. Even if doing the Genocide Run was a bad experience for you, you CANNOT deny it was a fulfilling one. And Chara knows it, too. It ain’t exactly a coincidence that fulfillment and fullness are recurring motifs in Chara’s character.

Like all demons, Chara is able to tempt the wicked and sinful by targeting our greatest weaknesses and deficiencies. It’s no different from how Succubi and Incubi target those who succumb to the sin of lust. That’s why you won’t go after my aroace ass anytime soon. But I digress.

But Chara doesn't just tempt us by exploiting our need to fill the glass to the brim but also because of how they exploit the satisfaction we get from watching it fill up, that is to say, the satisfaction that comes from trying to achieve fulfillment.

We humans are addicted to progression as much as we are to completion, and in an RPG like Undertale, the satisfaction of progression comes in the form of NUMBERS. Not just the numbers that flash on the screen when you battle enemies but also the ones that go up when you finish said enemies off, whether it be your hit points, experience points, and so on. And Undertale isn’t any ordinary RPG; it’s one where its RPG elements are interwoven into the fabric of the game’s universe. Because of that, Chara is able to use these elements in their world to influence those outside of it.

But Chara does not just influence us through the numbers that increase but also the ones that decrease. That’s why the first thing they do when we reach Snowdin is give us a tally. 

It’s not just there to measure progress. It’s also there to incentivize us to keep progressing. It gives us a small dose of satisfaction that’s enough to distract us from the mundanity and misery of the murder run, like a loading bar on a loading screen. And just like with loading screens, the farther it progresses, the harder it gets to turn away. Why would you want all the lives you’ve taken and the stats you’ve gained to amount to nothing? Why would you want to hit reset and go through those brutal fights with Sans and Undyne again? You can’t empty out the glass, not when you’re that much closer to filling it to the brim. Speaking of Sans and Undyne, it’s quite interesting that even though they barely know you, they know exactly why you won’t take your foot off the pedal, so to speak.

But that’s not the only thing driving you, isn’t it? Chara knows that there was something else that was spurning you along. Something more powerful and more dangerous than your addiction to progression and completion: PRIDE. 

Perhaps the real reason you kept giving in to sin until it was far too late was because you didn’t think it would be too late. You didn’t hold back because you thought you would be able to go back. You thought you could just absolve your sins with the press of a button like you did in countless worlds before. You thought you could dive in, touch the bottom, and come back out of the water. But what were you getting into? How deep would you have gone? And would you have gone in if you knew you couldn’t possibly return? You know you wouldn’t. And Chara knows it, too. That brings us back to the dialogue I showed you at the beginning of this theory. The one said changed everything I knew about this character, and I firmly believe that this is the MOST important line of dialogue in the entire franchise.

PART 2: THE PART WHERE I (PRETEND TO) DESTROY 9 YEARS OF ESTABLISHED FANON!

When I say that that little blurb about being above consequences is ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL, I do not say that lightly. It isn’t just important to Chara's character, but the game of Undertale as a whole! Anyone who’s serious about Chara’s character should never take this for granted because Chara sure as hell does not.

It’s not just our refusal to accept the world’s destruction that’s a huge-ass deal to Chara; it’s the arrogance and complacency that accompanies it, rooted in the position and privileges we have as the player. It matters to them so much that they’re willing to completely forgo bartering for our soul (which they say they want) if we don’t admit that we have that belief!

And yet, despite Chara taking this subject so seriously, the people who are analyzing their character ironically don’t. Generally speaking, most people simply brush this line off as nothing more than something they do to help them on their quest to achieve their goals. So, with that said, let’s talk about what those supposed goals actually are.

In all my years of reading and assessing countless Chara theories and interpretations, I’ve discovered that everyone actually agrees on what Chara's goals are. They just can’t agree on why they want them. Said goals are A) reach the absolute, B) max out their numbers/power, C) erase the world, and/or D) eradicate all monsters. But what if it’s actually the other way around? What if those things were the means to an end rather than the ends themselves?

What if the true goal of the “demon who comes when people call its name” was just like that of the demons of old: not to be your partner in crime, but to torment and punish you for your crimes? To make you face CONSEQUENCES!

I’m not making this argument simply because it makes Chara look more badass (though I think it totally does, lol). I firmly believe that Undertale’s post-Genocide content is written so that Chara’s character can only make sense if that was Chara’s goal from start to finish. Because if Chara’s endgame was any of those four I mentioned earlier, their character kinda falls apart because they're awfully inconsistent about fulfilling them. And those inconsistencies are evident in the Second Geno Ending.

Discrepancy 1) They say they will “appear time and time again” to help us “eradicate the enemy and become strong,” and yet they call us perverted for eradicating everyone time and time again.

You can argue that they didn’t want us to recreate the world in the first place and just move on to another world, but if so, why let us come back at all? And if it’s to get our soul, why do they keep around this world after we have it? This leads us to...

Discrepancy 2) They tell us to ERASE the world and move on to the next, and yet they allow us to restore it without a hitch after we give them our SOUL, seeing how there’s no black void when we start the game again.

If Chara was powerless to stop us from coming back, this wouldn’t be such a big deal. But they CLEARLY DEMONSTRATE that they’re able to stop the player from restoring the world, as seen in the first post-genocide ending. And yet they don’t use this power after the first time the world is erased (WHICH YOU WOULD THINK THEY WOULD WANT TO USE SINCE THEY WANT TO ERASE THE WORLD AND MOVE ON TO ANOTHER)! Seeing how the world is back again without us doing anything makes the restoration of the world like something that Chara CHOSE ON THEIR OWN VOLITION. And what makes this all the more damning is...

Discrepancy 3) They tell us they’re down bad for increasing our ATK, DEF, EXP, and LV to the max and erasing the world and everyone in it, and yet they TELL US TO DEVIATE FROM THE ONLY ROUTE THAT ACCOMPLISHES THAT (which, as stated before, they call us perverse for doing it again).

So, let me get something straight. You tell us you want to ”eradicate the enemy” and “ erase this pointless world,” and yet not only are you allowing us to undo all of that, you want us to do something INSTEAD OF THAT??? It’s funny how you lecture us about how we cannot accept the world’s destruction BECAUSE, APPARENTLY, YOU WON’T EITHER!!!!! Also, before I forget...

Discrepancy 4)

WHAT KIND OF MISANTHROPE DEDICATES THEIR WHOLE LIFE TO WIPING OUT HUMANITY, GETS GIFT-WRAPPED A CHANCE TO DO THAT, AND THEN JUST PASSES IT UP?!?!?!

On behalf of misanthropes everywhere, I am DEEPLY disappointed in you!

So it doesn’t matter if you believe Chara is always evil, good, or detached from morality entirely. Because Chara has the same goal across all versions, they all succumb to the same inconsistencies!

Funny how most people see them as this embodiment of the addictive nature of levelling up and consuming everything in a piece of media and all that jazz WHEN THEY SEEM TO CASUALLY GIVE UP ON IT!!!!!!

And if you argue they want a Soulless Pacifist Run when they suggest “another path,” then ask yourself, what does that give them that a Genocide Run doesn’t? Keep in mind, aside from a scribbled-out photograph, we don’t see how many monsters or humans they killed besides the main characters or how much power and stats they gained from it. And it’s not like we see them erase the world afterward since only the genocide run has that infamous wall of red 9s. Not to mention, the genocide run is the most secure way of accomplishing their goals since they have the backing of the player. Not only that, but it’s also the safest and most efficient way to erase everyone and increase stats to the fullest, and we all know how Chara feels about efficiency.

So Chara has no reason to pick the Soulless pacifist ending over the Genocide Run if they want to achieve their end of increasing numbers and consuming the world… unless those things were a means to an end rather than ends themselves.

Indeed it is coming together! That’s the other reason their statement, “You think you’re above consequences,” is so damn important! They’re not telling us why we sinned, but it reveals they intend to make us suffer for those sins, and how.

That’s why Chara is seemingly so inconsistent about erasing the world. Because it was never about the world. It was all about YOU.

[SIDE NOTE: I’m sure many of you will point out that if Chara wanted us to get a Soulless ending in this world, then why would they encourage us to “move on to the next?” I don’t think this is too big an issue for two reasons. First, this line is meant to emphasize that, like all demons, Chara is inescapable and that no matter what world you go to (within their own universe), Chara will always follow you now that you’ve unleashed them. Second, because their goal concerns us and not the world they’re a part of, their character avoids the aforementioned inconsistencies that hamper the other Chara theories much more severely, in my opinion.]

Part 3: Contrapasso

Now I’m sure some of y’all might think that Chara doesn’t need to yearn for our torment to achieve the impact of the Soulless ending and that just because Chara is a demon doesn’t automatically mean they need to screw us over. You are right in that not everyone who makes a Faustian Bargain needs to have malicious intentions toward the people they’re taking advantage of (Kuybey from Madoka Magica is a great example of that). But Chara does need it! Not only does it make their character more narratively cohesive, but also makes their character more thematically impactful. And it’s more in tune with their demonic nature for them to want to torment us.

Because demons represent something more terrifying than evil itself. They represent the terrible price of embracing it, a price that all evildoers fear more than anything, and that all demons want seek to inflict upon us. Like most demons, Chara isn’t encouraging us to sin to fill the emptiness in our soul (or even their own). They did it to perpetuate that torturously empty and unfulfilled state for all eternity, a state which even themselves now endure.

Now, you’ve probably noticed that I’ve talked a lot about the themes of fulfillment and emptiness, and it’s for a good reason since those themes are heavily featured in Undertale. I mean, how could it not? Because concepts of demons, hell, and sins (which are explicitly mentioned in the game) are deeply intertwined with the concept of emptiness. The theologian Thomas Aquinas once defined evil as not a presence but as an absence (of that which is good). Darkness is the absence of light; war is the absence of peace; bigotry is the absence of tolerance; pride is the absence of humility, etc. You see this reflected in not just Christian theology but also fiction as a whole, as a lot of villains are motivated by a desire to obtain something that they believe can’t be without. Whether it be wealth, status, recognition, power, the death of an individual, or even just sadistic pleasure.

Since demons are beings that are inseparable from evil itself, the life of a demon is forever cursed by unceasing and unbearable emptiness. Hell, the word damnation originated from the Latin word damnum, which literally means loss! They’re not exactly partying in hell while your immortal soul is being slow-roasted for eternity. They’re burning in that lake of fire and brimstone along with you! They can’t end their damnation, not because they don’t want to but because they simply can’t. They’re fated to be bereft of the satisfaction or fulfillment found in Heaven or Earth, a fate that is worse than death in every sense of the word, especially since they can’t experience death anymore. Because of that, a demon embodies what is perhaps the most terrifying form of evil of all: not one rooted in a desire to rid the emptiness and unfulfillment within themselves, but a desire to inflict them upon others. Because as a wise philosopher once said:

We see this horrific state of mutually assured suffering everywhere across fiction. From goofy, lighthearted tokusatsu's...

...to nightmarish sci-fi dystopias...

...to a little indie game made 9 years ago.

Oh yeah. Don’t think I was gonna talk about emptiness without mentioning everyone’s favourite homicidal fauna-turned-flora, especially not with lines like this.

Take one to know one! And it can’t be a coincidence that the game emphasizes the theme of emptiness when giving the spotlight to the three characters that have committed the most “evil”: Flowey/Asriel, Chara, and YOU.

Quite the unholy trinity going on here, eh? It truly is fascinating how the emptiness led us to work with each other to exterminate all monsters. And it’s also interesting how the unique kind of emptiness we have eventually led us to work against each other. Whether it be Flowey wishing to preserve his sentimentality for his long-gone sibling, us players wanting to maintain our (perverted) sentimentality for the world of Undertale, or Chara weaponizing these sentimentalities to exact their misanthropic hatred.

Remember how I said that Chara was a lousy misanthrope because they keep letting us bring back the humans they wanted annihilated when they were alive? That does make them a lousy misanthrope… unless their misanthropy found a higher priority target: YOU!!!!! Chara’s desire to torment us didn’t come out of thin air. The same hatred that drove them to wipe out the humans of their world years ago is the same hatred that’s driving them to get at the humans of our world, even if it means destroying those who once embraced them. And now, that hatred is more potent and destructive than ever before, so much so that it’s no wonder Toriel was able to feel it when she endured that fatal blow after the Geno Run began.

Do you think witnessing what soullessness did to sweet little Asriel wasn’t already terrifying and tragic enough? Just try to imagine what it could‘ve done to a vengeful, traumatized, chocolate-addicted problem child so consumed by hatred that they poisoned themselves just for a chance to wipe out their own kind. All of that hatred of humanity is still alive and well, and now it has no humanity to hold it back. 

And what could be a more fitting target for a MISANTHROPE that calls themselves a DEMON… than a HUMAN that wants to play GOD?

After all, the only thing demons love more than tormenting mortals is warring with Gods.

Why else do you think that Chara winks right at you if we make Frisk stay with Toriel? Because that’s who the Soulless Ending was meant for. It’s when they’re finally able to unleash all that animosity and hatred that’s been lurking behind that smile ever since we killed everyone in the Ruins. It’s the moment that they’ve been patiently waiting for because they knew that’s when it would hit you the hardest.

And what makes the Soulless Pacifist Ending very special compared to other “bad endings” isn’t simply because they destroy those we pretend to care about (may I remind you that you did do the genocide run, after all). But they destroy something much more valuable to us as the players: OUR OMNIPOTENCE. Chara doesn’t destroy people for the sake of destroying them. But because in doing so they destroy our arrogant belief that nothing could possibly challenge the invisibility and invulnerability we players take for granted.

It's all too human that those with the most power are the least willing to lose it (or even take responsibility for it). And in a world where we should have absolute power, we thought there would be no consequences for abusing it. So what could be a more fitting and frightful punishment than having to actually face them? Missing out on the best ending in a video game is one thing. But to forever lose the power to achieve it ever again?! Now that’s terrifying!

Throughout myth, legend, and religion, sinners are often punished in a way befitting of the sin they’ve committed. In Greek Mythology, Tantalus was damned for trying to feed the Gods the flesh of his murdered son with eternal hunger and thirst despite being within arm’s reach of water and food. In Dante’s Inferno, those who succumb to wrath are forever doomed to fight each other in a river of mud. And since Undertale is no stranger to concepts such as hell, sins, and demons, you can damn well be sure that there’s going to be damnation fitting for the sins that drove you to complete the genocide run.

You completed the Genocide Run because you believed ending their lives would be fulfilling. Now, you can no longer get any fulfillment out of saving their lives.

I mean, where else can you get your precious fulfillment? Those paltry neutral endings? They only offer a fraction of what the pacifist ending offered. And the genocide ending has been drained of its satisfaction like the pacifist! Would you do all that tedious grinding and brutal boss fights just to hear your so-called “partner” lecture you again on perverted sentimentality and say you should choose another path, even though there’s nothing that they could offer? Of course not. In the end, you’re just like poor Tantalus agonizing in the pits of Tartarus, feeling the water vanish from his hands just before it touches his lips.

The ultimate triumph of Chara isn’t making you suffer a total defeat, but perhaps something much worse to you as a gamer: a pyrrhic victory. It’s like having a Twinkie that's been drained of the creamy center. Everything is still there except the thing you treasure most. You’re damned to play a challenge forever deprived of any and all fulfillment you once got from it, a satisfying journey that will always be doomed to reach a dissatisfying destination.

In the end, Chara leaves you with the world exactly as they described it the first time they met you face-to-face: POINTLESS.

You can have the world exactly as it was before (and the people within it). But in the end, Chara will always have the last laugh.

Figuratively and literally.

Welcome to hell!

Part 4: Why Consequences Matter

Woooooo!!! Man, that was quite the read, wasn’t it? And yeah, I wasn't kidding when I said this is going to be autistic as all hell! I don’t doubt you have a lot of thoughts in your mind, and then you’re gonna share them by the time you’re finished reading this post. Some of you might think this is the Chara theory to end Chara theories. Some of you believe that this is the worst thing that has happened to this fandom since Sebastian Wolff. Some of y’all, I’m whitewashing them because I argue they’re driven by a desire to punish the wicked by any means necessary. Some will think I’m demonizing them because I say that they’re, well, a demon. 

[SIDE NOTE: Just so I don’t miscommunicate what I believe about Chara’s morality, here are some key points to take away from this theory. A) Chara sought to make you pay for the evil you committed. In fact, the idea that the Soulless Ending is Chara punishing our sins has been around for a while, especially by those who think Chara was “corrupted. B) However, in this theory, Chara's actions are all done with the intent of accomplishing that goal. This means that Chara was aware of what they were doing, they wanted to do it, and that THEY KNEW IT WAS EVIL. C) But you still have to remember that Chara is also A LITERAL CHILD. And D) They’re a child who endured a great deal of hardship (and possibly trauma), which made them so embittered and vengeful. Also, E) Remember that they’re also soulless, just like Asriel when he was Flowey.]

But I think most of you were gonna look at this interpretation of Chara and feel the same thing that I have about most of yours: a take that’s not without issues, but not without a fair bit of interesting points.

But regardless of what you think of this theory overall, there’s one thing I won’t leave up for debate: I deeply treasure Chara’s character. Not just because I think they’re fun, cool, or interesting but also because I firmly believe they’re invaluable Undertale. And yet, at the same time, I think they’re severely undervalued by the fandom. And who can blame them?

The characters of Undertale speak very little of Chara, and Chara speaks for themselves even less. But just like Johan Liebert from the anime Monster, even though they’re not seen too often, they still manage to exert a massive presence and impact within Undertale’s narrative. And that presence is made all the more impactful because they perfectly represent the themes of the narrative: and that theme is CONSEQUENCES, or more accurately, the CONSEQUENCES OF VIOLENCE.

From the violence that drove Chara to climb Mt Ebott to the violence their brother Asriel inflicted in hopes of being with them forever. From something as grand as a war between two civilizations to something as small as dismembering a snowman. Everywhere you look, you will see that violence (and its repercussions) haunts the story and characters of Undertale. But what makes Undertale stand out from other media that tackles this subject is that it’s not just an integral part of its narrative but also its metanarrative. The most ingenious way it does this is by giving meaning to the actions/mechanics that we take for granted, specifically monster encounters.

Our Lord and Saviour Toby Fox said it best:

Because the monsters of Undetale are treated as something more than just enemies to be killed, there are going to be consequences for choosing to kill them away. Some argue that it goes too far in how it admonishes you for killing even a single monster, even to the point of being preachy (I’m looking at you, ScottFalco, but that’s a response for another day).

That argument is deeply flawed because it fails to account for the fact that without these ramifications, the game’s themes would be rendered null and void. The last thing that a game with a narrative centred around the consequences of violence can afford to do is afford you the luxury of avoiding them. And that principle especially applies if you dare to choose nothing BUT violence. //////If you were to bring them all back as if nothing happened, then your decision to commit genocide would be completely meaningless, which would totally disservice Undertale themes regarding violence. There needs to be consequences. LASTING CONSEQUENCES. Undertale can’t drive home its messages and them without lasting consequences. Undertale can’t deliver those consequences without Chara in the driver’s seat. And Chara’s character can only be at their most narratively cohesive and thematically impactful if seeking to make us suffer consequences was their intended destination.

Regardless of whatever detail about Chara you’re discussing or what side of the discussion you’re on, one thing is very clear: they’re absolutely essential to Undertale in the same way that Mephistopheles is essential to Faust, the Cenobites are essential to Hellraiser, and Kuybey is essential to Madoka Magica. And they’re the only ones with the means, motives, and deep-seated misanthropy to hold this whole damn game together.

Sans is right. We deserve to be burning in hell for what we did to those poor monsters. And I can't think of anyone more qualified to have us humans “burning in hell” than a self-proclaimed demon with a seething hatred of humanity.

And how fitting is it that the skeleton who judges our sins is followed by a human child who punishes us for them?

BUT HEY, THAT'S JUST A THEORY!

A CHARA THEORY!

THANKS FOR READING!

[project-sekai-facts]

The saki glue theory isn’t true?!

I mean it is just a theory… A GAME THEO-

Okay, I’ll stop. But I do wonder why you think that especially since that theory is incredibly popular.

The Saki glue theory, at least from what I've seen, says that if Saki died in middle school it would mean that none of the units in the game would form. The things is, it literally makes no sense if you think about it properly for more than a few seconds.

Of course Leo/need wouldn't exist, because it's not Leo/need without all four of them, and Saki was a key player in mending their friendship. As for Tsukasa, by middle school he was already a theatre kid, so he's not just gonna drop that because his sister died. Yes he would be greatly affected by it but he also wouldn't quit (it's during this point that he actually pushed aside and forgot his original motivations, so he doesn't associate Saki with his dream here). And Tsukasa would still encourage Toya to rebel against his dad, so Toya still meets Akito and they still form Bad Dogs and eventually VBS.

When it comes to MMJ and N25 it becomes really obvious that this theory is grasping at straws. The main explanations I've seen as to how Saki could possibly affect them is that Shiho and Honami become depressed, so Shizuku quits idol work to be there for Shiho, and Honami never becomes Kanade's housekeeper so doesn't call an ambulance for her when she collapsed of dehydration, and Kanade dies.

It just doesn't make sense at all. Yes, Shizuku loves Shiho and would obviously be there to comfort her, but she isn't just going to quit being an idol for that. Shizuku is her own character with her own complicated feelings towards said idol job. She isn't going to drop everything for her sister. And while I think Honami would still become a housekeeper, if she didn't Kanade would just have another housekeeper who probably would've found her the exact same way Honami did. Also at least some people who push for this forget that Shiho and Honami already were not in a great place mentally when Saki was in hospital in middle school. We already have insight into how they coped with losing Saki (not in that sense) and MMJ and N25 still exist despite this. Yes grief is different, but you get the idea.

The Saki glue theory is just a cheap grab at angst rather than anything that actually considers how Saki would impact other characters and their relationships. Yes she does affect some characters but she is not going to drastically rewrite the narrative if she dies nor will everyone close to her become too depressed to function. If we're being really, really, honest, you can kinda tell this theory probably exists partially to give pointless angst to her brother, which is a whole separate issue.

Like, Saki is important to some characters don't get me wrong, but she's only important to the narratives of four, those being the other members of Leo/need, and Tsukasa. She absolutely does not affect every character in the game, even by proxy. Chart:

I'm not saying angst in fandom is a bad thing, and it can be interesting to explore darker and more negative themes/emotions with characters who don't get to experience these a lot in the source material, but within this fandom there is an issue with pulling out nonsensical explanations for dark stories, which like 50% of the time involve killing off the chronically ill character. And a lot of those are to write angst for her brother and ignoring what actually is written in canon about him and his relationship with Saki. Ableism and misogyny with one move. Real nice.

[acesw]

Disabled Characters in Reverse: 1999 - Part 3

Welcome to the final installment of this list of the game's disabled characters (for now), and we are ending it with the most interesting of them: the neurodivergent characters!

These characters are particularly special since a lot of them are mainly speculated, but they draw heavy parallels to their respective conditions that they had to be taken note of.

Now because there are so many characters, they became an entire category of their own instead of being lumped with the previous post, and this became undoubtedly one of the longest texts I've written down among most of the analysis posts I've made for this game.

I hope that you enjoy reading this final piece, let's get started.

Autism: 37, Horropedia, Melania, Balloon Party, Avgust

All of these characters are incredibly similar to each other, and yet they all have their share differences. For example, both Horropedia and 37 are characters that embody one of the main stereotypes about autism: Incredibly intelligent characters who fixate on specific subjects. 37’s focus is on mathematics, while Horropedia’s is the horror genre. Even their personalities are quite similar: arrogant yet kind and understanding people.

They lace their speech with associations to their topic of interest, and will infodump about it unprompted. The two of them also struggle to pick up social cues, nor can tell if the information they’re sharing is unsolicited because the information is normal to themselves.

However, the difference between them in this is that Horropedia is more carefree about it, whilst 37 is more self-aware about the fact that she can’t come to a mutual understanding with others.

The rest of the characters here also share these traits, but they all stand out in their own ways:

Melania’s intricate way of making plans tends to be in the form of academic exams. These tend to be her greatest motivator when it comes to doing work, and gets easily frustrated when having to change them. She also has a set routine that she gets easily surprised by sudden interruptions.

Balloon Party’s speech is found to be unconventional (i.e. the speech impediment from earlier, the tone of her voice is found to be naturally flat) and is paired with word association and echolalia.

Avgust has a unique understanding of the world around him, with him associating everything and everyone with more innocent concepts. (e.g. his father’s death is often referred to as him “sleeping in the mines”) None of these mean that he doesn’t understand things like death as what they are, only that he’s very young among the cast and has been raised in a healthy environment that allows him to continue thinking this way for a bit longer.

ADHD: Regulus & Eagle

With Regulus, it’s more of a headcanon than it is backed by evidence, but the main points that can be found for her are her restlessness, lacking attention span, and her impulsivity. They’re common aspects (hyperactive) in ADHD, and thus they aren’t exactly conclusive.

But I also found that Regulus also tends to bring her interests to light when navigating through conversations, and this with the reasons mentioned above makes me personally believe that Regulus does not just strictly have ADHD, but still overall neurodivergent.

Eagle seems to have the inattentive type of ADHD. A more established indicator of her likely having it is through her anecdote, where she was said to have had some sort of attention-deficit. In that anecdote, Eagle mainly acts on her own impulses such as jumping to try to find the missing boy scout, and even helping X if it meant that it progressed her mission.

She struggles to take rejection and constantly tries to prove herself to be able to gain the acceptance she’s looking for. It made me believe that she has Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria. (RSD)

While these alone aren’t conclusive either, they still give me enough reason to believe that Eagle could be implied to be neurodivergent too.

AuDHD (Autism + ADHD): Vertin, Marcus, AliEn T

From the earlier points, we find that some of the mixed traits that make for auDHD are found in Vertin, Marcus, and AliEn T. All three of them are quite emotional (even Vertin in spite of her stoicism) and impulsive people, where they tend to jump into action when they have a rough plan set in mind. They also have their own interests (wildlife, reading, Earth) and tend to get absorbed into their own thoughts quite often. Because of the latter, they tend to lead themselves into executive dysfunction. Some things about them differ, however.

Starting with Vertin, most of the “obvious” signs are present in her childhood, where she was restless and curious of the world beyond SPDM, making it difficult for her to focus in school. Yet, she still kept up with topics that interested her, going as far as skipping classes to learn in her own way.

She has gotten punished often for her “defiance,” and ended up being radicalized by it and by the trauma she faced in Chapter 3. Currently, she masks quite heavily to a degree, leaving her main indicators to be her tactile tendencies (i.e. touching things and others out of curiosity) and her becoming absorbed to her own thoughts.

Meanwhile, Marcus is an incredibly anxious person. She often relied on someone like Hofmann to socialize with others and make decisions for her since she struggled greatly in that aspect. She can be easily upset by things and even by her own overthinking, taking rejection quite poorly before resorting to immediately coming up with ways to resolve it.

She often retreats back to reading to be able to ground herself from any stress. But now with everything that’s happened, Marcus has begun working on herself and mustering the courage to be able to push her limits independently.

We’re not entirely sure about how AliEn T’s home society is structured, but it can be argued that his and our societies tend to parallel each other. For example, AliEn T is seen as a bit eccentric to his kind like the regional manager and co-workers because of him being emotionally prone and being very fixated on the Earth. (which his society collectively avoids)

A lot of his notes about his home in the anecdote imply that in his home society, they have their equivalent of some of the struggles found in the neurodivergent experience, which is why he and Officer Williams in the anecdote could empathize with each other.

Others / Related but non-diagnostic: Mesmer Jr., Isolde, Pickles, Kaalaa Baunaa, Tooth Fairy, Blonney

As I explained in the previous post, Mesmer Jr. and Isolde both greatly suffer from conditions that particularly stem from their trauma and subsequent C-PTSD.

Again, Mesmer Jr. is heavily hinted to have OCD, while Isolde has many disorders linked to C-PTSD. (formerly named as "hysteria") Due to the nature of their respective conditions, they both deserve a place here in this list.

It can be assumed that Pickles is neurodivergent due to him being nicknamed as an “indigo pup.” While this might be related to his arcane skill, the nickname is also intriguing because it's like the term “indigo children.” 

“Indigo children” are classified as those who are incredibly intelligent and possess special talents or powers according to the New Age concept. However, this classification is closely associated with neurodivergence due to the similar descriptions.

Meanwhile, Kaalaa Baunaa, Tooth Fairy, and Blonney have shared stories in which they've had to maintain some form of distance towards their arcanist identities due to the hostile nature of their environments. They embraced it as part of themselves in the end, though.

Kaalaa Baunaa has been an avid researcher ever since she was young, and enjoys maintaining punctuality through routines. However, she had been often discriminated against in her initial workplace, where her arcanist identity had been picked out first before taking her research in consideration; even her research had been disregarded due to the “unconventional” methods that she applied to conduct them.

It can be considered a familiar feeling among neurodivergent people and it is incredibly frustrating when it happens. For KB, it had gotten bad to the point of her (and Kumar) getting kicked out of their institution, but it never stopped either of them from continuing to do their work.

Tooth Fairy and Blonney both grew up in mixed societies, where they had to force themselves to conform to be able to be accepted in both human and arcanist social spaces.

Tooth Fairy, while achieving this balance in her college years, had never been treated as an equal by either side due to both her arcanist identity and frequency to interact with humans. She was bullied for it and was even taken advantage of when she made the medicine in her character story. These experiences led her to accept her own identity and eventually stop overtly conforming to both societies.

Blonney meanwhile moved to a predominantly human society, where she greatly conformed to human ideals and trends to “fit in” with the humans. But she was still off-handedly discriminated against due to simply just being an arcanist. She tried really hard to suppress herself, to the point that she dimmed her own “light” and was unable to use her personalized arcane skill. But when she came back to Green Lake, her mask slowly fell apart, and then it reignited her passion, which allowed her to begin accepting herself again.

Honorable Mentions

Sonetto, Matilda, Sotheby, Ezra, Jessica - Autism (mainly credited from: @/H0LOdm on twt)

While these are mainly headcanon, some of these characters here do display neurodivergent traits in their own ways, most especially the latter 3 of these characters here. They all struggle to pick up social cues and tend to struggle in (conventionally) socializing/empathizing with others.

Sotheby and Jessica in particular both lace their language using their interests and the environment they grew up in. Ezra also uses his interests in fungi as a conversation starter with others, eager to see any mushrooms that might be potentially found anywhere.

Final Notes and Thanks

When I started writing these down I didn't really think much of it outside of the fact that there were so many characters who were particularly neurodivergent, which then further extended to the rest of the disabled characters as well. I tried my best to word these as respectfully as I can, and that I hope people could find fun in reading these as much as I did writing them.

I give my acknowledgements to these people for their help and support for the creation of list in entirety: Jager, Lupjo, Reg, Bee ( @e-0timely ) , Abyss ( @abyss-idiot ), and Tokki

Considering the nature of this list, I want to say that are non-conclusive and can be interpreted in any way you want. As I said in my previous version of this post, "...Every experience is different, and I think these characters here openly show that."

Feel free to add your own insights, corrections, and even your own headcanons here. Thanks for reading, and have the two links to the first two lists down here.

Physically Disabled Characters Psychologically Disabled Characters

[yarrayora]

i like how falin being a maiden to be saved, a reward to be coveted, isn't a point to criticize in dungeon meshi. because we have various other female characters who are written as having their own agency

we have marcille, of course, whose story can be observed since chapter 1. how she's not depicted as the "girl team member" but "part of the team". when you're writing a protagonist group where there's only one female character among the male cast, you can always feel this sense of alienation in the writing, like she doesn't belong in the group as the story focuses on the rest of the boys. the way masashi kishimoto writes team 7 is a major example

but marcille is still allowed to be a "typical girl" who doesn't want to eat gross things and enjoy feminine clothing without forgetting the fact that she's a multifaceted person. she's a researcher who isn't afraid to get dirty when it's something relevant to magic and her goal, even though she's also grossed out at the idea of feces being used as fertilizer for crops

and when falin comes back as a monster who can't speak, it's still not a point to criticize. oftentimes stories involving female characters losing their speech (or, well, becoming disabled in some way) is meant to make her vulnerable, a fragile 'something' to be protected. but this is not an argument about how chimera falin is super strong, because that's a shallow way of thinking that ignores the fact that being a Girlboss doesn't ensure your female character is written as a fully realized person. this is about the fact that almost right after that Izutsumi joins Laios' party.

She joins late in the game, so it'll be easy for her to only be tacked on as an afterthought. A notable example would be Okumura Haru from Persona 5, where her character gets overshadowed a lot by the other party members' more colorful personalities, as if the writer wasn't sure how to integrate her into the already developed dynamic.

there's also how she's written as a sweet and shy girl yet the way her school uniform is designed betrays that image. it's heavily customized even compared to the trendy girl like ann which means it's impossible for her outfit to not go against school regulation. not something an obedient girl would have done. which makes me wonder if they couldn't decide on her writing until last minute.

but Izutsumi is different. her involvement and her own personal story arc eventually intertwines to the overarching plot. she hates having her options limited. she hates having responsibilities to uphold. she hates eating veggies! she hates that people expects her to do things their way! she wants freedom to do whatever she wants!

but in the end she learns that to have the freedom to choose, she has to uphold her responsibilities. starting from the simple things like taking care of her health by eating balanced meals, not just the ones she enjoy. she has to do work to get enough money for her food and travels. and she has to learn how society works so she can live independently. she has to learn which desire she has to prioritize that she can balance out with her responsibility as a living being.

her own self-realization culminates into her giving advice to laios that leads to him steeling his resolves to become king.

so you have Falin, who gets turned into a monster that cant communicate her desire and needs while under the mad sorcerer's control, and in exchange you get Izutsumi, the 'beastman' who knows exactly what she wants and throws a tantrum about it without shame, not understanding that what you want isn't always what you need. i think it's a really cool parallel!

this is a prime example of how tropes that get associated with misogynistic writing can be used as a proper tool that serves a narrative when you have more than multiple female characters having their own character arcs

in fact, you can apply this to pretty much every other things. when you're writing gay characters, having only one of them and they act camp can make people raise an eyebrow at whether this is meant to be a caricature of gay people or not. having two of them and one acts camp and one acts normie can be read as a bias against gay people expressing themselves. writing multiple gay characters, all with different personalities and desires will avoid accidental stereotyping.

even the minor female characters, be it the canaries or namari, help show that the way the narrative treats Falin isn't born from thinking that women are an alien breed compared to men. that her lack of agency means something for the themes involved.

[marlynnofmany]

Arboreal Species

We had plenty of options for ways to keep occupied while waiting for the client to show up and collect his delivery. Several of the crew were playing card games with the captain, using a delivery crate as a table, and she was beating the pants off all of them. (Though none of these particular aliens wore pants. You know what I mean.) Some of the others waited inside the ship, declaring boredom with this particular patch of exotic wilderness.

The rest chatted with crew from the ship that had arrived after us, which was also delivering cargo for the same late-to-arrive local. They had plenty to complain about. They also had food to share, and a decent chance that it would be edible by those they shared it with.

While Alien Food Roulette was always exciting, I’d found a much better option.

“Hey, they tell me your species climbs things,” the stranger from the other ship had said, long snout curling into a smile. She looked like a mix of 3/4 baboon and 1/4 crocodile.

“They’re right!” I replied easily. There weren’t many climbing opportunities on our little courier ship, and I was curious where this was going.

The alien pointed at a huge tree on the edge of the landing pad, which boasted smooth orange bark with branches every couple feet. “I’m gonna go climb that. Care to join me?”

“Would I ever!” I said, already heading toward it. I called back over my shoulder, “If you guys need me, I’ll be up a tree!”

Captain Sunlight didn’t even look away from the game, just waving distractedly, her scaly face intent on whatever play Mur had just made. He was chuckling about it and rubbing his tentacles together in a way that was probably a bluff. As soon as I looked away, he made a noise that said the good captain had just wrecked his clever plan. Trrili hissed with laughter.

None of them cared that I was about to climb to a dangerous height. None thought this was out of character in the slightest, and all of them were missing out on an excellent climbing experience.

It was a great tree. The bark was smooth but not slippery, reminding me of a madrone tree from back home, just without the flaky outer layer. And it didn’t feel as cold. If anything, it was warm as we scampered skyward, almost as if the tree welcomed a good climb by people who’d appreciate it.

The alien stopped, picking a branch to sit on and leaning back against another. “Now that is a nice view.”

I had to agree. “It is!” I found my own convenient pair of branches, draping my arms over the top one and finding a nice footrest on a third. “Everybody down there doesn’t know what they’re missing.” The forest around the landing pad was bright with oranges and yellows, the kind of vivid colors that I associated with autumn, but which could have been year-round here. Rolling hills lined the horizon, with a river sparkling merrily in the distance. The only straight line was the road. It made a nice counterpoint to all the gentler natural shapes.

My new friend cupped a hand to her snout unnecessarily. “Hey, everybody down there! You should come see this view!”

To no one’s surprise, she got a chorus of “no thanks.”

I shook my head. “Such a shame. They’re missing out on all the knowledge that comes from above, too. Hey, Paint!” I yelled down to the crewmate who had just dropped a box of round things. “One rolled under the ramp, and two are over in the grass!” I pointed them out.

A distant “Thank you!” reached my ears.

The alien nodded. “Wisdom of the heights indeed. What else can we see, that those on the ground can’t?”

We spent a good few minutes pointing things out to each other and swapping stories. Apparently her people were called the Farsights, for exactly this reason.

“Oh, motion on the road!” she declared, squinting into the distance. “Looks like somebody’s in a rush to be a little less late.”

“Well that ship has launched,” I said, following her eyes. “Nice thought, though. Say, is that one car or two?”

The Farsight didn’t answer immediately, which made me worry a little. Then she said “Uh oh,” which made me worry a lot.

“Uh oh what?”

She stood up on the branch and bellowed, “INCOMING! Client’s being chased by hostile fauna!”

“Oh jeez.” Now I could see it too: something large and antlered galloping after the little surface skimmer. Both were headed straight toward our landing pad.

Chaos erupted down below as we slid off our perches and scrambled downward. The bark was still friendly-smooth.

“I think that creature eats these!” my friend said, bounding out toward the end of a branch to shake loose a bundle of round seedpod things. “I’ve seen them before!”

“Will that matter?” I asked, slowing. “It looks pretty mad!”

“Can’t hurt!”

I couldn’t argue that. There were more than a few seedpods waiting on my path down, all of which came loose with a little judicious bouncing of the branches. When I hit the ground, it was in a sea of baseball-shaped plant bits.

The rest of the crew was scrambling to move crates and dash into the ships for anything weaponlike. A handful of beefy individuals from the other crew lined up to stare the thing down as it approached, and my ship’s biggest and scariest hurried to join them. Trrili claimed a place in front with her black-and-red carapace gleaming in the sun, pincher arms spread wide. She left space for the skimmer to zip past, but only just.

I grabbed seedpods, making a basket with my shirt. “Will we need these? Is it going to stop?”

“Beats me!” said my new friend. She grabbed an armload and ran. “Let’s find out!”

I raced after. We joined the lineup just before the gigantic whatever-it-was skidded to a halt, rearing to paw the air and roar thunderously. The guy in the skimmer was trying to park behind our ship. The various scary aliens yelled back at the huge moose-rhino.

“How well can you throw?” asked my friend, not waiting for an answer. She dumped her armload and started chucking seedpods.

“Pretty well!” I didn’t bother dropping mine, just grabbing them one by one from my shirt basket and aiming for the head.

I didn’t count how many of those direct shots were me, but I’m going to say most of them. The pods burst into squishy fruit with a solid core, doing a great job of annoying the creature as well as coating it with presumably-tasty purple goo.

Its forefeet hit the ground with a teeth-rattling thud. It roared some more, but half-heartedly, like it was just trying to save face at this point.

My friend the Farsight had run out of seedpods, so I gave her some of mine. While our crewmates did their best threat displays, we pelted the dangerous beastie with fruit until it turned to lope in the other direction. I made sure to throw a few on the road near it, in case it felt like picking up a bite to eat on the way. It didn’t, but I did see a tongue lick out as it turned its back on us.

Belatedly, Kavlae and Eggskin skidded out of our ship with stun guns at the same time as a couple people from the other — was that a rocket launcher or a flare gun? — none of which turned out to be necessary.

“Take that and eat it!” crowed the Farsight.

“Yeah!” I agreed. “It’s probably delicious!”

“It probably is, actually,” she said as the congratulations started to pour in.

I picked up a seedpod I’d dropped and sniffed it. “Smells a bit like kumquat.”

Captain Sunlight, busy trying to coax the client out of his vehicle, yelled across the landing pad, “Don’t eat that until Eggskin runs it through the medscanner!”

“Aw, really?” I complained, perfectly in synch with my new friend.

“Yes really!” She shook her lizardy head. I couldn’t make out her muttering from here, but I could guess it was about omnivorous habits, self-preservation instincts, absurd treeclimbing species, or all of the above.

The Farsight said, “If these are safe, I’m taking some back with me.”

“Even if they’re not, the seeds would make good souvenirs,” I pointed out, pulling at the pod where it had separated. “Look how perfectly round they are.”

“Oh yeah, those are nice.”

Trrili stalked past with a haughty tilt to her antennae. “You two get along far too well.”

“Like two seeds in a pod!” the Farsight quipped.

That made me smile. “Hey, my people say that too!”

We had plenty to talk about while everybody else handled the actual delivery we were there for. Eventually Eggskin did check the thing with a medscanner. It tasted like sour kumquat. The seeds cleaned up nicely.

And most importantly, my new friend had family with a whole enclave at the next space station my ship was planning to visit. And they had a climbing structure three stories high. I couldn’t wait.

The rest of the crew thought that sounded pointless and dangerous, of course, but none of them had ancestors who danced through the tree branches, so clearly they have no taste.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!