#lots and lots and lots of needless character bashing

[writingquestionsanswered]

Is it okay to use generators to help you start writing or to give ideas? I see a lot of writers on other platforms bashing them and saying that by using them you are not a real writer.

I use them because I personally feel like I'm not that creative, and it gives me a vague start to go on.

Thank you, and I really love your blog!

Using Random Generators for Inspiration

It depends on what you actually mean when you say "generators." Random Generators - Random generators have existed on the internet for years and years and years. Some popular ones are Fantasy Names .com and Seventh Sanctum .com. These use predefined options that were created by someone who is offering them up for the express purpose of writers using them as prompts, inspiration, and ideas. These are absolutely fine to use, are used by even seasoned writers, and in no way undermine your validity as a writer.

Generative AI - Generative AI is relatively new on the scene and includes things like ChatGPT and Notion AI. These use data that is scraped from other sources without permission from the creators. In other words, the ideas and text isn't generated by a person who specifically put it there for your use, but is instead stolen from other writers who did not give anyone permission to use it.

To be more clear, it's the difference between someone saying "here are some ideas you can use" versus someone saying "here are other people's stolen ideas you can use."

Needless to say, the use of generative AI is extremely controversial, as it should be. We're not talking about robbing from the rich to feed the poor. We're talking about robbing from the poor to feed the poor. Many MANY creatives work around (and sometimes overcome) challenges to their work without resorting to theft from other creatives. And when creativity is something that even creatives struggle with at times, lacking creativity is not a good excuse for stealing someone else's hard work.

So... if you're using random generators for plot ideas, setting ideas, character names, etc., that's fine, and many writers use them. But, if you're using generative AI, you need to really think about what you're doing and why you feel entitled to using ideas stolen from other creatives.

In the meantime, here are some resources that can help you boost your own creativity:

Guide: Filling Your Creative Well Guide: How to Rekindle Your Motivation to Write Getting Unstuck: Motivation Beyond Mood Boards & Playlists Character Development Exercises Writing Exercises to Help You Become a Better Writer Want to Write, Can't Come Up with a Plot

Also, some great random generators:

Fantasy Name Generators Seventh Sanctum Chaotic Shiny RanGen DIYMFA WriterIgniter Plot Generator Writing Exercises.uk

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[rowanwritestoomuch]

How to Describe a Room; Rowan's Way

I have a few cardinal tips for description, and I will share them with you here.

First, try--- just not. Literally, just don't do it. I have asked lots of readers and most skim descriptions unless the author is obviously putting alot of effort into what they need to show. Even in fantasy enviornments, minimal description in later chapters will allow your reader to fill in an image with their mind's eye. Not every reader wants to be bombarded with visuals, some want to create it themselves. Placement of objects and doorways, interactable items within a scene, simple settings, all can be used effectively to give your reader what you need without bashing them in the head with it.

If you have to--- keep it contained. A good rule of thumb is to maintain the bread and butter of descriptive text to the beginning of a piece, or new scene. However, readers will often just miss the descriptive bits at the beginning of a chapter in order to get to the juicy action. So try to put easy limits on yourself for these things; for me, its a maximum of 8 sentences. If these sentences are all together, I will make sure to focus on character actions and expressions in the scene, to not bore or double down with needless text. But my preferred method is to disperse those 8 sentences throughout the chapter, as the character sees or interacts with new information. Sometimes it can be a nice break in the midst of a tense or anxious interaction for your character to ground themselves by viewing the world around them, and this can be a niche moment to add description as well.

A step in the right direction--- be active. Use the things in your scene. Recently, instead of describing a room, I had a character pace around it in a fit of frustration wherein his thoughts overwhelmed his perception, but still he interacted with the furniture and layout of the room by avoiding bumping into those objects and it made the scene more dynamic without being pandering, as I had only briefly mentioned a few of the objects before. Paint the scene slowly, let your brushstrokes guide the reader as they are your partner in this dance.

Always remember--- use it wisely. If you must describe the wallpaper, make it as chaotic as the turmoil in your character's mind, or shaded with a color that lends to the deeper emotional moativations of a character within that space. Focus on things of need or importance, and consider what feelings are evocative, what thoughts might come along with such things. Often when you enter a room in real life, you simply register it without thinking, so focus on the things that stand out, or are mundane in a meaningful way, perhaps something with far deeper importance or symbolism later on. And assume your reader is as wise as you are, they will remember, so do not buckle down on unneeded motifs-- once we know the wallpaper is red, we don't need to be reminded, it makes the reader feel spoken down to and encourages speed-reading.

I usually do not keep the reader much in mind when I write, but description is for them alone, as I can see the scene clearly in my mind but I must project it into theirs. It doesn't have to be perfect, like a room of artists painting the same model, we can each have our interpretation. I always keep in mind then what is most important for the reader to see through my eyes, and the character as well, and it is often more fun to leave things unnoticed that do not have significance at the time for a greater reveal, or to mention things in off-handed ways that grow more and more present as they gain interest.

Description can be your friend. If the characters are your voice, the scene is your instrument. Do not create such a crescendo that it is a clangor, instead consider what sounds would compliment the melody in creation, and use only those.

You got this.

Always remember, write because it hurts if you don't.

[cutedice]

Luffy, Usopp + Buggy w/ an so (gn) who is SO INCREDIBLY SILLY

Like the so is basically a jester. a little fella. just mindless entertaining fun 24/7 with this guy.

((Anon. You are my new favorite anon ever.))

When the S/O is Silly!

Characters: Luffy, Usopp, Buggy Warnings: None, fluff.

Everything is GN!

LUFFY

- He's all for the goofy behavior.

- Seriously, if you can make him smile he's 100% already vibing with you and you make him smile constantly.

- He's always ready to play with you or just listen to you tell jokes.

- People already compare him to the sun, and he never really understood that until he met you.

- He also 100% has a prank war going with you. It's endearing at first but now it's an actual war and the other Strawhats have been picking sides.

- So far you're winning, much to his annoyance. But, he can't pout for too long when he hears your laugh and looks over to be met with such a warm expression on your face.

- If you want an easy way to get to him when he is in a mood, physical comedy gets him a lot. He's a sucker for slapstick. Slip on a banana peel for the man.

- He'll always make sure you aren't hurt afterwards, so no worries! He just... has to stop laughing first.

- You can pout at him all you want after, but it won't do much.

- "C'mon, (Y/N)! You just- and- and the noise you made--" and he's hunched right back over losing his mind.

- Come on, how could you stay mad at him? Well, you can't! Because he finds it so funny, he tries to replicate it so you can see what he saw.

- Ends with you both lying on the deck, cheeks red and heads fuzzy from the lack of air, but genuinely enjoying each others company so much.

- Luffy wouldn't trade the feeling for the world.

USOPP

- Let's be real, he appreciates comedy. And, while he loves childish jokes and acts he also enjoys most other forms (except Robin's).

- But he loves yours!

- He makes a lot of self deprecating jokes at himself, it's his fall back and, while he doesn't do it enough to be concerning, he also doesn't hold back.

- But, none of those jokes last long when you're around!

- Cheesy pickup lines always get him to laugh. Sometimes you might get a blush or a bashful turn-away, but he's always laughing and fighting back chuckles.

- He loves hearing you add onto his tall tales. Commit to this man's bits!! He will love you!

- Get's even more entertaining if you act it out with impressions, play it up with him! Be nerds! Drama kids!

- You can't play any acting game together because you just wind up laughing too much to participate.

- One of his secret favorite things you do to make him laugh is when you sit in his little corner with him and purposely put something together wrong.

- "Y/N, pfft, I- I asked you to make a cube! How- how'd you make a triangle? Where- where's the other piece?"

- This situation is a win all around because it makes him laugh, he gets an ego boost in helping you, and if you really don't know how to build stuff or don't want to then he'll never know!

BUGGY

- As a clown himself, Buggy has been known to appreciate the finer forms of comedy.

- So, needless to say if you throw a pie at someone you're already a star in his book.

- Okay, he might be a little more mature than that and the pie might have to be well timed, but a well time pie throw is still a win! Really, if your timing is pretty good you'll land most jokes with him.

- Not to say everything needs to be timed. Sometimes silly things just happen with him.

- He's a walking shenanigans magnet and if you can double down on that and make it a positive thing for him he'll adore you.

- Plus, you so graciously taking the butt of the captain's jokes and pranks has the rest of his crew and Alvida praising you (mostly due to their mild annoyances to them).

- Buggy does pull pranks by the way. Constantly. But, he always, without fail, get's flustered when you catch him trying to set one up or mid-lie.

- Full body, red faced, you swear you can hear steam coming out of his ears. But, he always ends up laughing with you afterwards. It's funny once he looks back on the scene after a few minutes of denial and he can admit that much at least.

- And, you never laugh at him. Well, not in a bad way. He gets defensive, he's got a sensitive ego and he's greedy; but you only see him as... well, your fun partner in crime!

- That's right. If you've got the confidence to go head-to-head with him then you're officially his partner in crime! You don't really get a choice in this, he'll drag you along with his plans.

- Of course, he takes all the credit for any joke he might pull on the crews. He doesn't want you to get in trouble. Plus, he gets mild entertainment watching them treat you like your innocent.

- It's like having a spy on the inside as you come back to him with everyone's plans and schedules, and you two have a late night planning session.

- "So, if Alvida and Mohji are on the island that leaves--" he turns to face you for some help only to see you mid air plane throw at his head.

- You maintain eye contact for a moment before he grins and suddenly a hand is on your side, tickling you into surrender. "Hah! Try and best me again I dare you!"

[extrashotodepresso]

Fake Dating Series:

KirishimaXFem!Reader

(ft. Ex Hawks)

Warnings: SMUT AHOY! (Actual smut- like DNI if under 18) , a bit of Yandere Hawks at the end (can’t help myself), angst, pure filth, cheesy, cheating mentioned

I had an idea a while back about a little fic series around the beautiful cliche trope of fake dating. Overdone you say? YUP! But it’s so tasty I can’t help it! Needless to say, all characters in my fics are 18+. In this one, MC and Kirishima are in their mid to late twenties.

So this is the first one!!! Feel free to reblog if you want, I literally write these for myself but if you like it lemme know if there’s anything else you wanna see!

Summary:

Hawks shows up at the agency and tries to get back together with you. You try to blow him off but he’s pushy. Getting irritated you say you’re dating someone. When he asks who, Kirishima walks over and you get an idea.

“Just go with it.”

“What?”

You pull Kirishima by the harness on his chest and bring him in for a short kiss; what you weren’t expecting was for him to kiss you back.

“Um… still here, (Y/N).” Hawks clears his throat uncomfortably, while you are stuck staring up at Kirishima’s face.

“Wanna get out of here, pebble?” He asks with a sly grin.

“You have no idea.”

You had felt your phone incessantly buzzing in your back pocket all day. You prayed silently that this meeting would end soon; you could hardly pay attention to it anyway.

“Everything okay, Jumper?” You heard someone call out to you. When you looked up it was none other than Red Riot, your coworker and acquaintance. You rubbed your neck nervously.

“Yeah- just have a lot on my mind I guess.” You looked up at him with a soft smile before standing- even if you were tall for the average woman, he stood easily a foot and a half above you, though he was less intimidating than his appearance would suggest.

“Well if you need anything, let me know.” He smiled again kindly, then offered you a small stack of papers. “Notes. From the meeting.” You took them gingerly, looking up at him with a raised brow. “Seemed like you missed some of the info today, wouldn’t want you falling behind.” His face was almost bashful as he said this, his mouth opening slightly like he was preparing to speak again.

“Riot!” Dynamight called out for his friend suddenly and Red Riot gave you a small wave before walking away, leaving you a little dumbstruck. Sure, Red Riot was nice- he had even been dubbed the new gentlemanly hero- but something about the gesture gnawed at you. Unfortunately you didn’t have much time to stare after him in bewilderment as your phone began ringing. Again.

You whipped your phone out of your pocket, turning towards the elevator and making sure you were alone before you hit ‘answer’.

“What do you want?” You spat out, hand smashing the down button as you looked behind you in a paranoid fashion. You prayed as you waited for the doors to open that no one would follow you.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that little bird.” The voice that came over was saccharine and sweet, the syrupy tone making your stomach turn. You waited until you were inside the elevator with the door closed to respond.

“Don’t call me that, Hawks.” Your teeth were grinding.

“I’m downstairs.”

“What? Downstairs where?”

“At your agency. Let’s go for dinner or some coffee- you know you can’t-“

“I’m not going anywhere with you. Fuck off and go away.” You hung up the phone, practically slamming it in your frustration.

Two years. Two years of your life you had dedicated to that insufferable, egotistical, bird brained— ugh! And three months ago, you found out he had been cheating on you with some young up and coming sidekick. You closed your eyes, exhaling deeply before collapsing on the cool elevator wall. When the doors opened, you were in the hallway to the lockers.

You had been throwing yourself into your work since you had broken up with Hawks. You had spent the past few months pulling shift after shift- and now you were being forced to take the weekend off. This was especially frustrating to you at the moment; if Hawks didn’t leave like you asked, you wouldn’t have a good excuse to lose him, and the man had a way of getting what he wanted. You made it to the showers, cleaned yourself then changed into civilian clothing, praying that he had the decency to finally listen to you on your elevator ride back to the lobby. Though, if his incessant harassment the past three months had anything to say about the likelihood of that happening… the doors opened and you steeled yourself, trying to visualize an undisturbed path to the exit.

As you approached the front desk at the lobby, your heart sank. He was still there, casually leaning on the marble counter, blatantly flirting with the receptionist.

“Well I would be crazy not to want that back.” You muttered, rolling your eyes before trying to walk as quietly as possible past him.

“Baby bird!” He called out to you and you stopped, feeling your shoulders hunch over.

“I told you to fuck off.” You spoke through your teeth. He walked over to you, opening his arms as if wanting a hug, then after seeing your expression lowered them slowly.

“Look- I know that-“ he actually looked remorseful as he paused, “I messed up.”

“You messed up?” You barked out a laugh. “Did you mess up the first time when you fucked her in your office? Or the tenth time when you fucked her in our bed?” Your glare was seething now, and his face was heartbroken. As much as the part of you that had loved him wanted to reach out and make him feel better, the part of you that he broke rejoiced seeing him in pain.

“Yes, (Y/N). I fucked up. And I’ve regretted it every single day. I miss you, can’t we just talk about this?”

“No, we can’t.”

“Why not?” Just then, the pinging sound of the elevator caught your attention and you looked over your shoulder to see— the perfect distraction.

“I don’t think my new boyfriend would like it.” You lifted your chin haughtily before you heard the heavy footsteps approaching.

“Boyfriend?”

“Hey! Jumper, Hawks, how’s it goin?” Just as you expected, Red Riot approached the two of you at the desk, smiling brightly, completely unaware he was about to be the perfect decoy.

“Hey babe!” You called out enthusiastically before trotting over to him. He was still in his hero gear, no doubt going for a last patrol on his way home. He looked down at you with a slightly quizzical expression before you whispered so only he could hear, “Just go with it.”

You grabbed his shoulder harness, pulling him down to you and before he could react or protest, kissed him. It was meant to be a quick peck on the lips, nothing too showy but the second after you pulled away, you felt his hand reach behind your head, fingers threading in your hair as he brought you back for more.

His lips were softer than you expected from the hardened hero, more experienced too. His lips moved along yours with a delicate fervor, quickly you lost yourself in him. Your hand that had been wrapped around his harness tightened and you pulled him ever closer, practically whimpering into his open mouth as the kiss heated. His tongue probed your bottom lip, requesting entrance and without a second thought you allowed it.

“Um… (y/n)? I'm still right here.” You heard Hawks behind you and it brought you back to the present. Pulling away, you attempted to gather your breath as you looked up at Red Riot.

He was looking at you with a hunger that made your thighs clench together. You didn’t know what you had expected when you kissed him, probably just an awkward joke and maybe an offer to walk you home, but this was… carnal. He was smirking down at you, sharpened teeth glinting in the fluorescent light.

“Wanna get out of here, pebble?” His voice was gravelly, thunderous and you bit your lip as you nodded.

“You have no idea.” You managed to whisper as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Sorry we couldn’t catch up, Hawks.” He spoke, still looking into your eyes as he did. “Looks like my little pebble needs to get home. I’m sure you understand.”

With that, the two of you left, leaving Hawks standing dumbfounded behind you.

“You wanna tell me what that was about?” Riot finally spoke again as the two of you entered the parking garage.

“Not really.” Your mind was still spinning, “Thanks for the help, Riot.”

“It’s Kirishima.” He said, softly as you approached your car.

“Kirishima.” You tested it out. It was foreign on your tongue, but not unwelcome.

“You want me to go home with you?” He asked and you felt a blush bloom across your face before you looked at him dumbly.

“Huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, a blush creeping up on his cheeks as well.

“I mean- to make sure you get there safely and everything.” He cleared his throat, suddenly breaking your gaze. You smiled, your stomach feeling flutterings you hadn’t experienced for almost two years.

“I’m a hero too, you know.” You said, teasingly.

“O-of course, I just thought-“ you giggled, he was too easy to tease.

“I’m happy to bring you back to your place- it looks like you were planning on one last patrol though.” He finally looked back at you, his eyes trying to read your expression. It was stifling, that look and you cleared your throat before rambling on, “I suppose I do owe you a bit of an explanation. It’s the least I could do to give you a ride as thanks.”

“I was planning on another round but it’s late… so if you’re willing to drive me… what I’m saying is…” he stopped himself, “I’d like that.” He muttered.

You nodded, then walked to your driver's side, sitting down and trying to not scream internally as he sat next to you. Your car adjusted with his weight and you felt suddenly self conscious about the state of your car- would he judge you for the smell of stale coffee or the miscellaneous straw wrappings on your passenger side floor? If he did, he didn’t say anything, he just casually provided you his address for the GPS. For the next few minutes, the only sound that could be heard were the incessant directions of your car, taking you on what felt like the longest drive of your life.

“He’s my ex.” You said, suddenly, to break the silence the two of you had lapsed into.

“Who?” He looked over at you, and though you trained your eyes on the road, you could detect surprise in his tone.

“Hawks.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” You said almost curtly. “Broke up a few months ago.” You readjusted, feeling his gaze on you was a little uncomfortable.

“Why did you—“ he let himself trail off, then caught himself. “Actually, I don’t need to know, I’m sorry that was-“

“We have different definitions of fidelity.” You interrupted him. “I think it means you stay loyal to one person, he thinks if someone else wants you and they’re super hot, sleeping with them should be acceptable.” You smirked as you shrugged, though saying it out loud hurt you more than you would like to admit.

You hadn’t talked about the break up with anyone. Not even your best friend. All she knew was you were done, and you didn’t want to go back. Kirishima was now the only one who knew the truth.

“That’s so unmanly.” He said, as solemnly as possible and you barked out a laugh. “What? What did I say?”

“Nothing-“ you said through giggles as you pulled up to his apartment. “It’s just-“ more giggles “unmanly?” You bit your lip, finally turning to him as you parked.

“So… he’s the one that was calling you all day?” Kirishima changed the subject. You sighed, resting your head on the seat as you turned toward him.

“Yeah. He wants to get back together. Doesn’t seem to understand the phrase ‘fuck off’.” You smiled, though it didn’t quite meet your eyes.

“And you think that kiss will be enough to keep him away?” He asked, almost incredulously.

“I would think so-“ you looked at him through your lashes. “It was a pretty great kiss.” You chewed at your bottom lip subconsciously and you watched as his eyes followed the movement.

“I don’t think he’s gonna stop until he really gets the message.” His voice had changed again, all low and sexy and you felt those butterflies again.

“So what do you suggest?” You swallowed, your mouth was suddenly completely dry. He leaned over to you, his massive hand caressing your face and covering half of it.

“Make the message so loud, he can’t ignore it.” He brought his face to yours, eyes looking in yours then to your lips to give you plenty of time to change your mind. In response, you leaned in to close the gap, brushing your lips against his just barely.

He increased the pressure, exhaling in relief as you permitted him to continue kissing you. The two of you quickly became a mess of tongues and teeth- though as things became more heated, the tiny space of your car was hardly accommodating.

“Would you like to-“ he broke the kiss to ask you a question, though you didn’t let him finish.

“Fuck yes, let’s go.” He smiled at this, chuckling as his thumb caressed your cheek.

“I was going to say come up for a drink, but I have a feeling you have a little more on your mind.” Your face reddened in embarrassment.

“A d-drink would be nice.” You swallowed. “I’m a little thirsty.”

“That’s one way to put it .” He said with another smirk and you pushed his chest, smoothing your hair and trying to catch your breath when you heard his rumbling laugher as he exited the car. The sound of it was enchanting. He walked around and opened your door, ever the gentleman, and you unfastened your seatbelt before grabbing his hand and following him inside.

Kirishima had a massive penthouse apartment, with all new everything and expensive furnishings.

“So this is a top hero’s apartment, huh?” You asked as you looked around wide-eyed. “You probably spend in a month what I do in a year.” You mused out loud as he walked over to his massive kitchen, grabbing a couple bottles of water from the fridge.

“I’m comfortable.” He said with a slight chuckle. “But it helps that I split the rent.” He walked towards you, offering you a water before gesturing to a large U shaped leather couch by a fireplace.

“You have a roommate?” You watched him nod, then sat on the edge of the couch, watching him walk away before your eyes continued to drag themselves around the room “Who? Wait, you’re not-“ he shook his head.

“I’m single, don’t worry.” You let out an exhale you didn’t know you were holding. “Bakugo and I have been roommates since college.” Your brows raised at this.

“Dynamight?” You asked incredulously. “Lord-Explosion-Murder—screams-at-children-number-two-hero—Dynamight is your roommate?”

“Yep. Hey, do you want anything harder than water?” You heard him call out to you, apparently in your awe he had returned to the kitchen.

“You bet your ass I do-“ you muttered, then louder; “whiskey, if you have it?” You looked back at him and watched him nod, his back to you as he rifled through the kitchen, moving surprisingly swiftly to grab a glass and some expensive looking amber fluid in a crystal container.

You had been staring into the fireplace, still oscillating between several levels of shook before you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. You looked up, and Kirishima was smiling at you, handing you a glass of whiskey.

“Do you mind if I go clean up?” He asked with almost an apologetic expression. “I haven’t had a chance yet to change and-“ you nodded

“That’s fine, I’ll just be out here…” you gestured to the couch. “Waiting.” You offered what you hoped was a sexy smile, not missing the way he swallowed before he straightened up.

“Five minutes. Promise.” He was almost childlike as he scampered off, leaving you to collapse into the couch in wonder at the situation you now found yourself in.

What a bizarre series of events. Not even an hour ago, Red Riot was a coworker you barely knew. Just someone who you would idly chat with in the mornings, occasionally fight beside on patrol- now you were in his apartment, drinking whiskey, watching a fire and waiting for him to— you took a drink, hoping the alcohol would calm your nerves.

Kirishima was an incredibly attractive man. Maybe not by super traditional standards; with his spiky teeth and even spikier hair, but there was always a kindness to him you found intriguing. Not to mention, he was absolutely ripped. Nearly seven feet of carved muscle and rugged angles, a sharp contrast to his normally shy and kind personality. Your nails tapped on the glass in your hand as you stared into the flames.

What if this was a mistake? You didn’t know exactly what was happening tonight, though you knew what you had hoped for. He was really too nice of a guy to be a rebound…

As you lost yourself in your thoughts, feeling the pleasant warmth of the fire and the hum of the whiskey making its way through your bones, you were snapped out of your reverie by the sound of a door closing.

“Hope you didn’t wait too long.” His voice echoed out and you looked up, letting out what could definitely be interpreted as a moan.

Freshly showered Kirishima was a god. His hair which was usually styled sharply fell into his face softly, just passing his shoulders and you could see a hint of his black roots at the top. It was weirdly sexy to watch as he pulled his hair behind his face and tied it in a low ponytail, his bangs falling into his face gently. He was wearing a black sweater that did absolutely nothing to hide his hulking muscle and a casual pair of jeans that seemed to strain against the sheer bulk of his thighs. As he sat down, the smell of his shampoo or body wash enveloped you; sandalwood and something earthy- like the smell of rain. You wondered now what you had been so concerned with before, the idea that you had an important thought being the only thing you managed to grasp.

“You alright?” His voice was soft, sweet, as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. You blindly set your glass on the table beside you before leaning in to kiss him again.

It felt so right to kiss him. Losing yourself in his taste was so easy, so comfortable, so— as he pulled you onto his lap, gripping your thighs with his massive hands you moaned into him. His contagious smile could be felt on your lips as the sound escaped you and it almost bothered you how calm he was. You wanted him to feel the same as you, feel this untethered. You brought yourself down to sit fully on his lap, grinding the apex of your thighs against him.

When you found the hardened flesh there eagerly waiting and heard his breathy little groan you finally smiled back before pulling away from the kiss.

“I’m fantastic.” You managed to croak out in response to his question, looking at him to see a darkened expression over his features.

“(Y/N)-“ your name came so easily from his lips, you hadn’t realized he had actually known it until now.

“Yes, Kiri?” You kissed along his jaw, tilting his head to find his exposed neck, kissing him gently before biting the flesh at the junction of his throat and collarbone. His grip on your thighs tightened in the most delicious way when you did, and you licked at the flesh before returning to his lips. But he pulled away.

“What do you want?” He suddenly asked. You paused, over him.

“What do you mean? I want you.” You sat back, studying his expression. He groaned, bringing a hand up to his face.

“I mean- what do you want from this? I’m all for us hooking up to make Hawks jealous and everything-“

“Who?” Your genuine surprise seemed to astonish him. For a moment, you had forgotten what had brought you here, to this man’s couch, practically begging for him to take you.

“Seriously.” He sighed. “I think we should probably talk about what you actually want from this before we-“ you brought your hand to his lips, silencing him.

“I kissed you back at the agency for a distraction. Sure. But-“ you looked around the vast apartment. “I don’t see him here now, do you?” You smiled down at him. “If this was just to piss him off, I would call him while you were breaking me in half so he could hear what a real man can do.” Kirishima blushed at your words. “And while that might be fun to do some other time…” You leaned back, pulling off your shirt to reveal your chest covered by a padded sports bra you had put on that morning when you had no idea you would be straddling one of Japan’s top ten heroes. Kirishima didn’t seem to mind as he swallowed at the sudden exposure of your flesh, “Right now, I’m only thinking about you. And I would have thought,” you gave another experimental grind of your hips, delighting in the almost tortured sound he made, “that what I wanted was obvious.”

Kirishima studied you for a few moments, searching in your expression for the truth in your words. He must have found what he was looking for as he kissed you, immediately opening his mouth to tangle his tongue with yours.

It was sloppy, steamy and downright indecent, but gods if it didn’t spark your need for him. He brought his hands back to your thighs, caressing them before grabbing handfuls of your ass, landing a harsh slap that caused you to shriek into his mouth.

“You’re a naughty little thing, pebble.” He purred. “I didn’t expect you to be this-“ you brought your own hands to the hem of his shirt, dragging them up along his toned abdomen to rest on his pectorals, clawing at them before gesturing you wanted the shirt off.

“Forward?” You finished for him. He pulled his shirt off, then returned to your lips, hardening his grip before standing up, carrying you around like you were made of air.

“Bedroom?” He panted into your mouth. You nodded and kissed him back.

The way to his room was a bit of a blur. He stopped a few times along the way, pressing you up against the walls, letting his hands explore every dip and curve on your body. You thought, distantly, that you might have heard things crash to the ground at some point, but had a sinkhole opened in the middle of Mustafu, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. There was nothing but him. His touch, his lips, his sounds, it was all that mattered right now.

When your back met the plush of his bed and he crawled over you, you felt another moment of awareness at the sheer size of him. He seemed to even block out the light in his room, his face was nothing but shadow. He pulled back again, finally allowing you to see his tortured expression, his hand brushing your cheek as his eyes seared into you.

“Are you sure you want to keep going?” He asked, his voice strained like the idea of you saying no was physically painful. You leaned up to kiss him, your hands trailing down the expanse of his chest to stop at the button on his jeans. You let them sit there for a moment, playing at the hem, enjoying the feel of where the elastic on his briefs beneath his pants met his skin.

“Are you sure you want to keep going?” You mirrored him. “I’m not the one who keeps stopping.” You were smirking, but your heart was racing. He set every nerve you had on fire, you couldn’t remember ever feeling like this.

“Are you kidding?” A lopsided smile graced his face. “You’re all I think about, (Y/N). I’m still not convinced this is real.” Your eyes widened. Did he really feel that way? A blush spread across his face. “Sorry.” You didn’t know how to respond to his sudden confession so you kissed him again, finally allowing yourself to unbutton his jeans and try to wriggle them off his hips.

He seemed to understand your hint and helped you out, standing awkwardly and shuffling his pants down his legs. He stood then, almost bashfully when your gaze was immediately sent to the large tent in his boxer-briefs. Chewing at your lip again, you swallowed. Everything on this man was giant. You slid your leggings off your legs, throwing them unceremoniously to the floor before motioning for him to return to you. He moved quickly, his lips finding your neck and every sensitive point on it as his hands wrapped their way around your torso, arching your back and bringing you as close as possible to him.

“May I?” His fingers were playing at the back of your bra and you nodded, turning your face to him again, finding his lips once more. He unclasped your bra, having to lean up from you to pull it off, one arm resting beside your head. He pulled back a little more, looking over your body with a sort of reverence. A small whimper left you at the seriousness of his expression, which he seemed to take as you missing his lips on you (not that he was entirely wrong).

“You’re so damn beautiful.” He whispered into your neck, kissing down your collarbone and sternum before dragging his tongue over your breast. He found your nipple with the wet appendage, circling around it before bringing it into his mouth with an sultry suck. You gasped, hands tangling into his hair. He continued to lavish you with his lips and tongue, and when you pulled out his hair tie so you could run your fingers through his hair, he bit down on the top of your breast, causing you to shriek at the suddenness of it. He pulled back.

“S-sorry! I didn’t mean to-“ you threaded your fingers to the base of his scalp, tugging harshly.

“Stop apologizing Kiri.” Your voice was stern. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like something. But I’m not going to break.” He still looked unsure, so you tugged again, eliciting a small moan from him. (Hair pulling kink unlocked) “I mean it.” You swallowed, “Do whatever you want.” A choked sort of sound left him, and he kissed your lips again.

“You…” whatever he was going to say, he didn’t. He bit your bottom lip, the sharpness of his teeth caused a slight sting but it felt so good. Kirishima moved down your body again, littering bites and kisses wherever he went.

He crawled down the bed, stopping between your thighs. He sat up then, spreading you before him, staring at the apex of your thighs with a hungry expression.

“Anything I want?” A devious smile formed on his face. You nodded, for the first time a bit unsure. “You might regret sayin’ that, pebble.” He lifted a hand, using his quirk to harden his arm. Your heart was racing as he dragged a sharpened finger down your torso, not hard enough to draw blood, but strong enough to feel dangerous. He hooked his finger into your panties, quickly moving his hand to shred them off of you and expose you fully to the room. He deactivated his quirk, then removing the offending scraps off your body, lowered his head.

He bit your hip harshly, and you twitched at the feeling, legs immediately trying to close but he held you open with just one arm. He kissed the spot he bit, running his tongue over it to soothe the ache before moving to your thighs. He kissed and sucked the inner flesh there too, and you felt yourself clenching on nothing, the part of you he had exposed was yet to be touched and it was driving you insane.

“Kirishima please-“ you whined. He looked up at you, like you were disturbing him from enjoying himself. A switch had definitely been flipped at some point; where he had been eager to please, now you were his plaything.

“It’s Eijiro.” He said with another well timed bite.

“Eijiro! Please!” You begged again. He didn’t make you wait this time, bringing his face to where you wanted him most, he licked a long stripe up your folds.

“Delicious.” He muttered to himself before he began devouring you with a fervor. His tongue dove into your weeping heat, fucking you open with the thick appendage and you moaned, gripping his hair again like your life depended on it. This egged him on, as he brought a finger to your folds and pushed one inhumanly large digit inside you.

You were already so close, it was embarrassing. His tongue moved to your clit, circling around, writing out incantations that had you ready to cream any second. You managed, just barely, to look down at him. His cheeks were flushed, hair mangled by your hands and his eyes were burning into you with a sincerity you’d never seen before. He pushed another finger inside of you, scissoring and curling them to stretch you out, hitting your spot absolutely perfectly- and that was it. With a loud shriek you came, and he eagerly lapped up every bit of you, letting out a satisfied hum that vibrated your core. His fingers slowed their pace to work you through your orgasm, his tongue gently caressing you.

Out of breath, you tapped on his shoulders, trying to communicate to him that you wanted him to return to you. He understood and almost hesitantly, crawled back up your body, kissing you without a word, feeding your taste to you with his tongue.

“Eiji-“ you moaned into him “I need-“ again, he seemed to understand what you meant without words as he slithered out of his boxers, the weight of his manhood slapping against your thigh when he was freed. Your hands glided from his shoulders down the broad expanse of his back, raking your nails down his chest before you wrapped a hand around him.

He was thick. The thought of it had you drooling a little into his kiss. A small, inhuman sound left your lips when you dragged your hand up his length and felt the beads of pre already weeping from him. He broke the kiss with a moan, looking down to see your hand struggling to wrap fully around him while you angled yourself uncomfortably to try to pump him. He thrust into your hand, eyes practically rolling back before he stopped himself entirely.

“Hold on-“ he let out with a hiss before stopping your hand, grabbing it with his and pinning your arm next to your head, threading his fingers into yours. With his other hand he lined himself up with your entrance and slid up and down your slit, lubing himself with your slick.

It felt heavenly. The head of his cock kept barely catching on your entrance, then would move up and kiss your clit. You ground into him, trying and failing to just line him up with your core; though the feeling of him fucking your folds was pleasant, you wanted more.

“Slow down, pebble.” He moaned out into your neck, his voice like liquid velvet against your skin. “We’re gonna have to take it slow.” You wanted to protest, but even just the action of him rubbing against you was sending you toward another release. “Holy shit, are you gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” Your eyes rolled into your head as your hips increased their pace, you thought you nodded but you couldn’t be too sure. There was something so primal about this experience. The need you felt for him was entirely animal. He chuckled darkly into you, then finally, agonizingly slowly, he began to push inside you.

The second his head made it past the first ring of muscle, you nearly blacked out. It was a stretch far beyond the familiar.

“F-fuck-“ he groaned, trying to keep going slowly but his hips were sputtering like he was trying to hold back.

“I told you-“ you angled your hips up to take another inch in- the stretch was incredible, “I’m not gonna break.”

You would one day wish that you could find the words to describe his expression, or the sound he made at your revelation, but you registered nothing as he lost complete control inside you. With one sharp thrust, he buried himself in at the hilt. There was no pain, just the immediate burst of pleasure you felt as he finally filled you. Your back arched off the bed, toes curling in his sheets while your knees squeezed his sides closer- like he could get any deeper.

“Y-y-you’re-“ he was stuttering, his every movement completely halted at the feeling of you pulsing around him. “Fuck it’s like you’re sucking me in-“ he pulled out agonizingly slowly before returning to you, thrusting tentatively at first before gaining confidence and speed.

His lips returned to yours, kissing you and refusing to separate any inch of himself from you. You were completely enveloped in his body, distantly experiencing the feeling of your damp skin clutching onto his. You couldn’t decide where to put your hands- they traveled from his hair to his shoulders to the sheets back up to his hair and you were sure that you could die in this moment and be completely fine. You were building up to something again, another gloriously dangerous crescendo that threatened to tear the fabric of your being apart.

“(Y/N)-“ he moaned into you, “I’m gonna- I can’t-“ his words were just as wrecked as you felt, and you nodded against his lips.

“It’s okay, Eiji. Let go.” You whispered the last part and he growled, pistoning his hips into you before there was a hitch in his movements, a moment where with a grunt, you felt a warmth spread through you. The feeling of being so intensely full, of being whole and still getting more finally sent you to your final release. Your head fell back, trying to bury itself in the sheets beneath you and as his movements sputtered and slowed he kissed your neck. He was grunting like the sound was being forced out of him, like he did whenever you were in a really tough battle and the thought sent heat over your body.

It was all too much.

Finally, the room seemed to still, the two of you were a collection of broken gasps and whimpers. He continued kissing your neck and face until you felt him soften and slip out of you. With a groan, he rolled himself away, leaving you stunned and a little cold.

You simply stared at the ceiling. The gentlemanly hero, Red Riot had just fucked you to the point that you saw stars at the edge of your vision. The thought made you smile. For a moment, you almost felt insecure that he left right afterwards until you heard a faucet in the distance.

Still catching your breath, you tried to drag your head to look at him when you heard his steps approach.

“How you feelin’, sweetheart?” He asked gently as he sat next to you, his massive form dipping the bed as you felt something warm and wet between your thighs. He was cleaning you up. Gentleman indeed.

He kissed you, rubbing the thumb of his unoccupied hand across the plane of your cheek. You smiled at him, kissing him again.

“Ethereal. You?” He chuckled into you, tossing the washcloth in the general direction of his hamper.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” He laid himself down on his bed, opening his arms in an offer to cuddle and you obliged, not minding the fact that the two of you were still a little sticky with sweat. His arm pulled you into his side, draping your leg over him and holding you there while his other arm rested behind his head. For a few moments all you could hear was the heartbeat in his chest; strong, calm, dependable.

“Did you mean it?” You asked him. His thumb, which had been idly petting your thigh suddenly stopped and he looked down at you.

“Mean what, pebble?”

“When you said I’m all you think about.” It was embarrassing to even ask, it was probably just something said in the heat of the moment. Hawks was like that, he would say all sorts of things when you were in the bedroom and when you were done…

“Of course I did.” He responded without any hesitance. He was blushing when you looked up, which was insanely cute.

“For how long?” You bit your lip. It felt like you were digging your grave here, but you couldn’t help it.

“Dunno. Just sorta noticed one day that you’re all I notice.” He said this so casually, like it was just an irreprochable fact. “I uh… I was actually about to ask you out. You know, before we uh…” he trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.

“I’m so glad it was you that got off that elevator.” You said, seriously. He let out a laugh before kissing you.

“Me too, pebble. Me too.” The kiss that followed started soft, but was starting to heat up as he rolled back over you, his hand cradling your face like you were precious. As your need started to reignite for him, you heard a loud slam.

“Oi, shitty hair! I brought dinner for your dumb ass.” The familiarly violent voice of Bakugo rang out through the apartment. Kirishima groaned into your neck, and you chuckled. “Why are all the pictures knocked down? What the fuck?” As the ferocious blonde started stomping towards his room, Kirishima reached for the covers on the bed, pulling them over you.

“I’m really sorry for what’s about to happen.” He said to you apologetically before rolling out of the bed with a groan. He pulled on his jeans with haste, still jumping trying to wrangle them on while he made his way out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him gently. “I have company, bro! Chill out, you're gonna scare her.” Though he tried to whisper, the urgency in his tone caused his words to carry through the door.

“What the fuck kind of-“ Bakugo’s footsteps stopped. You continued to giggle. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Muttered conversation that was unclear reverberated through the space.

“I didn’t get enough food for a third.” You heard Bakugo yell towards the room, “So if you want to eat you’ll have to feed yourself.”

***

Across the street, on a rooftop that was positioned perfectly to look into a certain Pro-Hero’s bedroom sat a blonde hero with wings crimson as blood and a heart shattered beyond repair. A feather gently floated toward him and he grabbed it, clenching it with all the rage he felt.

He had seen everything. Heard every word, every demented moan. She had never been like that with him.

Though Hawks knew the reason he lost her was his fault, he still felt she belonged to him. His eyes narrowed as he set off, flying high above the city, eyes burning. He wouldn’t lose. Not to him.

His resolve, crumbling as it was, still spilled fire through his veins. He would find a way to get her back, even if it meant hurting her again.

[musicalmoritz]

TikTok shipping discourse is giving me a headache

So I’ve been super excited abt the recent revival of the Gravity Falls fandom because that show was a large part of my childhood. My sister and I watched it as it was coming out, I still vividly remember watching the first episode with her when it aired. It was one of my first big fandoms so I have a lot of fond memories with it (and some not-so-fond, my sister and I would always joke abt how we were just like the Pines twins so certain areas of the internet were…well, awkward to say the least)

Anyways super happy that the fandom is back but why am I seeing so much beef between Dipcifica and Mabcifica shippers??? I don’t remember there being this much discourse before, most people shipped Bill//Dip so that was the biggest rival to Dipcifica I recall seeing at the time, besides Wen//Dip. Oh and also. The other one. But usually ppl were pretty chill abt Mabcifica bcuz it went along well with the mega popular mlm pairing so like,,,even if ppl didn’t care abt them, they were content with that as a way to keep Pacifica out of the picture. There were the typical homophobes ofc but I don’t remember ppl going out of their way to hate on Mabcifica back when I was really into the fandom

This might come as a shock, but I was always Team Dipcifica. It was one of those ships I absolutely fell in love with, I read fics of them on FanFiction.Net and watched all the amvs and cosplays. I liked the idea of Dipper being the guy Pacifica could sort of run away with after escaping her toxic family because I loved her character sm and wanted good things for her. And, well, I related to Dipper a lot so there might have been some subconscious projecting going on there

So yeah, big time Dipcifica girlie but as we all know I’m also a massive multishipper and Femslash Enthusiast™️. It took me awhile to come around to Mabcifica bcuz as I was watching the show I was working through a lot of internalized homophobia, but nowadays I ship them nearly equally to Dipcifica. They are both interesting ships in their own rights with their own appeals. Pacifica was always a character in Mabel’s storylines so people shipping them romantically makes sense to me. I actually look at Mabcifica content more frequently than Dipcifica content now bcuz my main thing is sapphic ships. But if you were to ask me to pick one, I would still probably say Dipcifica

Alright now onto the current discourse. I keep seeing posts on TikTok of Dipcifica shippers explaining why they hate Mabcifica, or bashing the ship in their own edits. I also see a constant flood of comments on Mabcifica posts of ppl hating on the ship and saying Dipcifica is better. My dudes, what happened to “ship and let ship”?? Seeing all of this at the same time I’m seeing a flood of posts saying that ships don’t have to be canon or even make sense, and that ppl should let fandoms have fun, is crazy. And yes I’m gonna pull this card, it’s a little odd for people to specifically be targeting the most popular wlw ship in the fandom. “It’s toxic” mf you ship BILL//FORD

Hate whatever ships you want!! No one is forcing you to like Mabcifica. If they are then block them. But omg I thought we were trying to leave needless ship hate in the past. The ships can coexist, believe me I’m overjoyed that Dipcifica has so many canon implications but ppl are still well within their right to ship Mabcifica

I don’t even care that much abt Bill//Ford (love it and fully support it, have supported it since middle school, but I’m more of a Fidd//author girlie) but I’m glad that’s the fandom’s main focus rn, I couldn’t take it if the ONLY thing the shippers were yapping abt was which Pines sibling Pacifica should hold hands with. Another life saved by toxic yaoi

Mabcifica shippers get behind me

[riley-summers]

Can I whine for just a minute? As a little treat?

It really bugs me when people post stuff about how they don't like a ship or character, then tag it with the ship/character, instead of using anti [ship] or anti [character]. This is a problem for a couple reasons. 1) It will be shown to people who blocked the relative anti tag. 2) It gets put in front of people who follow the tag because they like said ship/character. Needless to say, these people also don't want to see their ship or blorbo get bashed.

I see this a lot with the Riley tags and the Briley tags, which means I can't really follow them without seeing a lot of bashing, so I don't (which is unfortunate because there's not much Briley content to begin with, and not following the tag means I might miss any that there is). But I'm willing to bet it happens with other ships, characters, and fandoms, too.

Please tag your things correctly.

[cilil]

𝐑υᥣ𝖾𝗌 α𐓣ᑯ 𝐆υ𝗂ᑯ𝖾ᥣ𝗂𐓣𝖾𝗌 𝖿ⱺ𝗋 𝗍ɦ𝗂𝗌 ᑲᥣⱺ𝗀

✧ ๋࣭ ⭑ You are responsible for the content you choose to view. I provide content warnings and tag posts to the best of my ability. Should anything be insufficiently tagged/lack an important warning (both here on Tumblr and on AO3), you are more than welcome to bring this to my attention and I will be happy to sort it out.

✧ ๋࣭ ⭑ I don't like needless negativity in fandom and we don't do character bashing here. If I notice posts like that and/or find that someone is contributing to a hostile atmosphere and/or engages/is complicit in bullying/harassment, they will be blocked/muted.

✧ ๋࣭ ⭑ This is an open, accepting and supportive space. Bigots of all kinds are not welcome here and will be blocked on sight. Same goes for those who advocate for censorship, because freedom of artistic expression is a fundamental human right.

✧ ๋࣭ ⭑ If you're allergic to various different takes and interpretations, as well as anything not strictly adhering to canon, this blog is probably not the place for you. I enjoy exploring different things, delight in variety and am generally unwilling to take part/sides in petty fights, such as which blorbos get to kiss and how.

✧ ๋࣭ ⭑ If you're allergic to fun, this blog is probably not the place for you. A lot of posts I make (especially meme and shitposts) are made in good fun, not to be taken overly seriously or dissected or taken in bad faith. I expect you to respect that and not try to ruin the fun for everybody else.

✧ ๋࣭ ⭑ If you're disgusted by sexual content and/or kink, this blog is probably not the place for you. I don't censor myself here and my dead dove side blog is only for 1) writing and 2) a select few of dark(er) themes. The rest goes on main. You have been warned.

✧ ๋࣭ ⭑ If you're a minor, you maybe shouldn't be here in the first place/shouldn't interact with NSFW posts, but I will not, nor have the capacity to check and monitor every single blog who interacts with my posts or stop anyone from accessing content on the internet. I am not your parent and I did not consent to parent your children for you. That's on you.

[wfagamerants]

The one thing I want to start this off with is to say I have no interest in participating in Paper Mario discourse. If you asked me if I enjoyed Color Splash and Origami King I’d give you a genuine yes (Sticker Star not so much, but few would fight me on that one). I have my preferences leaning towards the old stuff, but this isn’t about shitting on the new, just a celebration of what’s currently happening.

With that said, let’s get this going.

I don’t think a big introduction and recap of the Mario RPG history is all that necessary here. Only thing I’ll note is that I played all of them in release order over the years, apart from RPG, which had to wait until the Wii Virtual Console release in 2008, I even played the Mario & Luigi remakes, so I have a lot of opinions.

Needless to say, the Mario RPGs were one of those branches of Mario I just always expected to be there over the years. Along with the platformers, sports games, Kart, Party, etc, it was always one of those reliably present parts of the franchise I could count on to be there system after system.

The past couple of years though did feel very different. Paper Mario, while still retaining RPG elements, has shifted to a more adventure game kind of focus and with Alphadream gone, Mario & Luigi series is now in limbo, with nothing certain on whether the series will be handed off to another developer or be kept dormant for some time.

There are the Mario + Rabbids games and I like those a lot, but I personally never saw them as part of the RPGs, moreso strategy games with RPG elements like Fire Emblem. It’s just how I see things but I won’t argue with people that think otherwise, perfectly fine in my book.

It just felt like that part of the franchise was basically done for, after so many years of being around, but then, this happened.

Super Mario RPG was announced to get a remake. This was obviously huge for many reasons. It is a niche title that did well back then, but doesn’t really represent the Mario world as we know it now. Not even Peach’s Castle had its design set in stone at that point, that’s how early a take on Mario as a world it is.

It’s extremely faithful to boot. Mario, Peach and Bowser were updated to their modern looks and Toad now has dips on the blue vest, all more than fine changes and besides that, the game is a modernized take on the original to a tee. The environments, original character designs, even everyone’s proportions, are spot on and kept as you remember them.

There is more to say, but that ties into the big announcement we got last Direct too. You know the one:

Paper Mario The Thousand Year Door is also getting a remake and it’s looking every bit as faithful as the RPG remake.

Given how much I have adored this branch of the franchise, I can’t put into words how much this return to what we used to have means to me, it’s genuinely special to me.

It’s hard to say which of these I would have deemed more out of reach, but having both of them on the horizon really makes me wonder about some stuff. In particular, perhaps they are deliberately aiming to relaunch the RPG branch with these, especially knowing the Switch successor is more than likely on the horizon.

Regardless of what the future holds, this announcement hit me in the best way on a personal level. I love RPG and was excited to see it get such a loving comeback, but Paper Mario felt like an even bigger deal. RPG was a one-off that did its thing and then went quiet. Paper Mario is a series that after the second game, has seen change after change that, along with interviews, made it seem like the series I fell in love with, wouldn’t ever go back to what it used to be.

Gonna say once again that this isn’t a means to bash the new games, there even is a lot to them I enjoy. The overworld gameplay is consistently good and it’s more explorative edge and things to do in it even are something the old games can learn from. I also really like Huey and Olivia and genuinely think they and their dynamics with Mario really do a lot to keep me engaged with their games.

Thing is,I still think the old formula was more rock solid and don’t believe in tossing that out just for the sake of being different. There really isn’t anything wrong with sequels that take an established foundation and just expand on and play with it and it’s not like the Crafts Trilogy, as I’ll call them for brevity, don’t repeat ideas either. Every new game has a castle in the sky, a crafts themed main partner, some level of Toad rescuing,  a game show at some point, Luigi popping up once per area, etc. Not even saying that as a bad thing, just saying it’s not like the series over the past 11 years hasn’t been using some elements multiple times too.

There is also THAT subject, character variety and yes, I am in the boat that the lack of it has harmed the modern games and no, I don’t think that what the old games did was very different from what Mario always does. 

I said this back in my essay on 64, but Mario always does what needs to be done to adapt itself to a new genre. In the platformers, new takes on established species are usually reserved for the mooks or bosses, because they are such an important asset of the game. In an RPG you get that too, but the NPCs you interact with also get more variety, especially the Toads, because interacting with them and a large chunk getting various bits of involvements in story beats or sidequests, is a big part of the game.

I genuinely don’t see how Galoombas, Goombrats, Cat Goombas or in a non-mook example, Goombette from Odyssey and RPG Goombas like Goombella or Frankly are all that different. They all serve a particular purpose and are given distinct designs and characteristics that compliment them. They’re the same thing and of course that’s also gonna mean more unique designs in the RPGs, because while reused models/sprites for generic NPCs is an RPG norm, you do want to create the impression of a lived in, diverse world, instead of making you consciously feel like you’re talking to the same guy over and over again.

It’s a reason and I was floored when I learned it, that the Super Mario kun adaptation of Color Splash has more Toad variety than the game itself:

Sure they got the same outfits, but that's what kun always did, even during TTYD days;

It’s just a massive benefit to establish character and a reason that the Rescue Squad, Captain T. Ode and the Professor from TOK are standouts of the Crafts trilogy, because they DO have something to visually communicate their character and go from there.

These games ARE still deeply rooted in Mario and just add what needs to be added to translate well into an RPG. Like people give a lot of flak to say, the old Dry Bones design in the first two Paper Marios and I get it, but it is important to note this was the most recent design available for them at the time:

The modern Dry Bones design wasn’t established yet, so they worked with what they had. The games never twisted anything Mario in ways that defiled its vision, they just did what they felt was needed to make the game enjoyable as an RPG and a Mario game.

Goes without saying, but seeing the battle system not tampered with is also really lovely to see. I won’t throw shade at the modern games, but I do personally think none of the modern games have come up with a replacement that compares to the old system, with SS and CS even having ways to softlock you in certain circumstances like a really unlucky Kamek curse in the latter, keeping you from using Jump cards against flying enemies.

This isn’t about me not liking something different. I’m an avid pre-Switch ND Cube Mario Party defender who would play all five of them over Super Mario Party (now here’s a hot take).

It’s not about me being pissy about the paper focus. I prefer when it’s just a stylistic choice, with the occasional visual gag nodding to it, but I can give credit when I feel a use of it is creative and not just the characters mentioning they’re paper like that’s a joke of its own.

I had more points like this but decided to trim things because as I said, the point isn’t to bash the new games, I just genuinely think RPG and TTYD have a stronger foundation and are just better translations of Mario into the RPG genre and hope to see them signal a return to this style of Mario RPGs. Heck, they can still make adventure games like the crafts trilogy as their own sub-series and freed from the burden of having to please an existing fan base of a different style, I honestly want to see them go all out with the direction they go for. It and the RPG Paper Mario can easily co-exist that way.

More than anything though, I am amazed these two games exist at all. Both RPG and TTYD are treasured by many, but they aren’t the platformers or Mario Kart or something more recent that can be seen as currently relevant. Bringing these two back shows they are listening to the fans and I hope they do well enough to show to Nintendo that this is something that pays off.

Above all else I want to celebrate that we are getting this kind of Mario game again. Sure, I’ll argue WHY I think it’s such a good thing, but this is more than anything a time to be happy, not to fight.

[midnightrosebell]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng deserves better, let's begin.

This is super fucking long for no reason.

ALSO, there is charater bashing, cursing, and I would love to hear your opinions in the comments as this is what is post is for!

Firstly, Marinette Dupain-Cheng:

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is no matter how much that fucking theme song says it, NOT your average girl.

Firstly she is the daughter of the two most famous bakers in paris, that is shown during the series as we see a long line of people froming outside the bakery as the seasons progress. From this the Dupain-Cheng's have a substantial amount of money as we can presume. And she has a famous uncle in Shanghai, and during this we see her parents pay for her to go jest because she wants too. If we take a look at her grandmother we can see that she travels the world with her motorcycle, although this may be an in expensive way of travel compared to the normal plane cost; over the years of her doing this it will add up. And seeing how little we know of sabeins family and how Marinette is the only child, we can presume that she will have a big inheritance when she's older. Basically she has her life set for her the day she was born.

She not only can from a rich back-round but also made her own back-round for her self as a self though (seeing that we never seen her attend actual classes) and Purely hand made designer. She not only made designs for jagged stone but presumably has commissions from Clara Nightingale, has be recognized by the Queen of fashion, Audrey Bourgeois (controllingassmotherfuckingchildneglecter) And the one a only Gabriel Agreste (hawkbitch). She also made costumes for their school play, and did commissioms for outside people/friends. She also knows a lot of famous people/friends with the children of said people. Like alya's mother who is the head chef at Andrea hotel. Alya also runs a pretty famous blog called they ladyblog witch highlights the attacks on paris and has core footage for the hero's. This can be said for the reset of the classes future cause as of right now, they have something that, already is successful. Like max, he built a robot, helped successfully bring back dinesours and has already has planned projects for the future. Rose, she is the leading female singer for the kitty section and also has made her own perfume. Nino, he made a play at the school and is a DJ and has performed for so major events. Nathalie, he and Marc makes comics about Paris's superhero situation and has already gained a large following as we can presume. Then there is Luka son of jagged stone and lead singer in the kitty section. His sister juleka daughter of jagged stone and and been dabbled in the modeling industry. We all know about Adrien and Cholé, but what about Sabrina? Well, she is the daughter of the police chief in Paris. Kim is a Olympic swimmer, Alix a professional skatter and the Kagami, an professional and Olympic fencer.

Needless to say she has quite the backing.

Now, let's ge into the actual reason we're here.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚜.

•firstly she babysit for her classmates little siblings and Nadia and she also makes commission (as mentioned above)

•She provides emotional support the characters and makes sure they don't get akumatized. Not only that, she also listens to understand and gives advice to the person. Even BEFORE the akumas.

•She helps ALOT in the bakery ever since she was young and takes her time to make, box, and give out pastries so those who she thinks need it. It also helps her parents out and bring in new customers. She bakes for special events for her classmates like brithdays.

•She is also the class president and is in charge of everything in the class, wether it be, fundraisers, class trips, brithday party's , class hangout, so on so forth.

•Lila. Just fucking Lila Rossi who's names predicated her fate. She made marinette life a living hell even after she left, through CHOLÉ (hang on we are getting their) And got her expelled, turned the class on her, attempting to turn her mother as well and threaten her to keep her mouth shut. SHE ALSO FUCKING AKUMATIZED HER SELF TO GET BACK AT HER.

•CHOLÉ BOURGEOISIE. She TOURNAMENTED Marinette for nearly SIX FUCKING YEARS. This is why I HATE CHOLÉ redemption arc. She bullied, embarrassed, and destroyed Marinette in more ways than one. She told everyone Marinette had a crush on Kim, thus getting Marinette embarrassed after Kim openly mocks her WITH cholé. She destroyed her self-esteem by this and by also at every little moment, put her down whenever Marinette had a single ounce of pride in herself. She JOINS Lila to make her life a living hell and keep her away from Adrien.

•She had to watch, one by one, as herclassmates fell for Lila's lies, had to watch Lila lie and framed her, watch their disgust and disappointment. Watch as them turn against her, watch as they slowly froze her out. Only to act as if nothing happened when Lila had left for one of her "trips" and when she was exposed as a lying mole. Now for them to come retreating back, even now, not trusting her as they used to. Not even her parents.

•she can't even cry, scream, or shout about how much they hurt her because she is the "right example. " The sign of hope that they can look up to as she has never been akumatized. She is the class representive, the golden child, the sweetest and the most forgiving girl that always owns up to her mistakes. She is the everyday ladybug.

•Marinette can't lean or rely on anyone. Who would their be to help her? She is supposed to be the person OTHER people can rely on, that they can talk to advice on what they can do. To help and comfort THEM in THEIR time of need. Not Marinette she is the therapist.

•After all of this, you bet your ass that she needs therapy. She went through so much seeing her family, friends, classmates and her citizens go through so much pain, so much anger that they can't even express at the fear of being akumatized. She watched her city, burn, flood, explode, controlled, over and over again. She watched as the ones she loved would die before her eyes knowing, knowing that she can't do anything about it.

𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲𝐛𝐮𝐠

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗-

○Ladybug fights akumas almost every other day.

○She can bearly express her emotions both in and out of battle as "She is ladybug".

○She has to handle and take care of all the kwamis. 19 MINIATURE GODS by her self without being caught. Then had to deal with the responsibility of being a guardian and most likely has to go through training in the future. Not to mention the possibility of more gardians visiting in the future

○She has to deal with reporters everywhere she is asking questions upon questions after her long and tiresome battles. Such questions even step into her bongeries, making her uncomfortable, but they don't care, and she doesn't want to come off a bad and have her citizens lose belief in her. Not to mention that one episode with Nadia when she interviewed the two heroes and accused them of being together. Honestly, the joke chat noir had made as well was a little too far seeing they were only a few months into being heroes.. and she was what? 11?

○Then there is chaton would matter of factly keeps trying to make advancies towards her and getting in her personal space and keeps persisting on a data and how their are "meant to be" and "their the only ones for each other" "are bond to be together" I don't even think chat knows he doing this. However I doubt that theory as well as he guilt trips and manipulates ladybug into feeling bad about not showing up on dates (even though she states that she wouldn't be as to attend) and when rejecting him, she sates her reasons clearly but guilt trips her more (by staying that he understands but he still loves her AND Threatened to stop being chat) making her feel bad. During this he doesn't listen to her, legit ignores her and is snarky towards her and in general he's a bitchy pussy cat in a few episodes. HE EVENS THREATS PLAGG TO TELL HIM WHAT WRONG WITH LADYBUG OR ELSE HE'S TAKING OF THE RING. Honestly, I love adrien. I really do. But the boy needs some major help, okay

○Then there's a hawkbitch who decided to target children to bring back his dead wife WHO WILLINGLY DIED TO BRING ADRIEN INTO THE WORLD AS A SETIMONSTER Akumatized the entire world to come after ladybug (mostly likely knowing that it'll probably kill her in the process) AND THEN THERE IS NATALIE– He teams up with a child and that child did something he's been trying to do for the past 3 years. Then He sends Lila after her make her life miserable. Then he sacrificed himself to be with Emily, RIGHT IN FRONT OF MARINETTE. Imagine your tournamenter of your city turns out to be the person you aspired to be when you grow up- And then jest fucking suicides in front of you.

○Has to fight no matter what, time, place, in side and outside suit. What the actual Fuck she can't even take a break.

○The ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD IS ON HER SHOULDERS. (Even tikki said that)

○She was thrown into being a hero with no training what so ever. (I am looking at you master Fu)

○She has to watch her city be destroyed over and over again. The place where she grew up, the people she loved, she can't even save them as she has to focus on the akumatized victim.

○She had to watch people die in front her eyes. Bruned, drowned, decapitated, frozen, stabbed, crushed. Then right after see them walk and talk as if nothing ever happened.

○Not to mention how many times she had to risk her life over and over again for this city.

○Risk her identity and safety of those around her is she is ever found out.

○she can't even ask for goddamn help mentally because of her identity as a hero and was betrayed by someone she thought she can trust. She has to keep this all to her self while being Paris's knight and shinning Amour.

○Also, chat blanc. That- that episode was fucking traumatising. Also if you didnt realise after this episode, marinette started to act differently. This is because her tendency to over think grew from there. She started to overthink more because she realised that one action may have a chain reaction that she might not be aware of. She started to really overthink from there about her actions and responses.

○Fuck hawkbitch and felix. Natalie deserves better. Adrien needs a mental evaluation and marinette need to go on vacation.

i would like to say I don't not have any thing against the characters it is jest my opinion on what I've seen through out the show, if you do not agree please jest ignore it or comment on this post! I would love to hear your reasons and responses!

[celestiall0tus]

I swear a lot of Chole fans can be a very paranoid bunch. Like no shade, but like any time they see anything that could even be remotely perceived as Chloe salt or bashing, they jump through hoops trying to defend her or blame other characters, even if the writer isn't even trying to salt or bash her. I swear, Astruc has traumatized these guys.

I'll be honest, it's not just Chloe. Even when writing the initial All That Remained, I was accused of reenforcing Marinette salt and was bashing her. Now, I know art is perceived differently and we all have our own takes on it, this includes how we take in the characters we see.

I'm going to lay it out right here and now. I do not hate any of the characters in Miraculous. I hold no resentment against them as I do the writers. When I write, I take their writing seriously at what they are trying to display and attempt to bring a real-world filter to it. I examine the characters to the best of what I can to discern what traits are trying to be displayed, what is actually being displayed, and pull from there. So, when you see me write certain things, display characters a specific way, there is reason behind it. I will point out flaws. Things won't always be cheery and end well. But most importantly, at least to me, showing how you can overcome these flaws instilled into us by our surroundings, society, upbringings and so much more.

My aim is never to bring more needless negativity to the world. We have enough of that and, quite frankly, I'm so fucking sick of it. I would rather write works that call to attention these toxic traits, lifestyles, and more to bring it to attention. I want to see us better. I want to see the world better. In order for me to achieve my own goals, I need to bring it to attention. You may hate it. You may hate me, but I know what I need to do. If you cannot see past your own toxic traits, there's the door, help yourself out.

[weirdestcornelius]

Party ships also have very weird gaps, so that's another thing.

Uni and party would be a whopping 16 year age gap. That is the age it would take for someone to be late in their adolescent years. Girl. That is weird as fuck.

Exactly bro, like wtf. Party is older than everyone in the hospital as far as I'm concerned. He would've been two years away from being a whole ass ADULT by the time Uni hatched. I'm not usually one to bash age gaps as long as the two characters/people are both consenting adults but that is over a decade of a gap.

The only character that is even close to Party's age as far as I know are Meat(I think?) and maybe Cuddles considering we don't know his exact age. Everyone else is a lot younger than them. And yeah these are cartoon animals that live for like 120 years but there's no way gaps like that are normal on Spinch considering the largest gap we have is Rem and Mood, and that's not even THAT big of a gap, it's just a couple years.

I'm not trying to start ship discourse but it's also really fucking weird to ship a therapist x Any one of their clients. Staff x Patient is a bit concerning in the hospital setting but I'd like to point out that therapists literally get fired over being in a relationship with a client. A lot of them literally have to sign an agreement to NEVER get into a relationship with any of their past or present clients because of the extremely unhealthy power dynamic. And yes I know this because a therapist of mine has brought it up because I was talking to them about getting into psychology myself.

Just because a therapist is no longer seeing a client does not remove that power dynamic. And again it's so much weirder considering that Party is Gay/Achillean, Uni is transfem and sees herself as a girl even if she goes by any pronouns and it's weird as fuck to ship a gay man with a transfem character. You'll get attacked and called all sorts of stuff if you call Uni "he" once but it's fine when it's to ship them with a gay enby man. Needless to say this also isn't the first time the fandom has shown double standards.

[goat-shoe]

ok, i Rant time

ive been reading this fic Knowing itd be a mess and im just... ive had it with this characterization! aimless rant below ^^;;;

tw for bullying, harassment, abuse, homophobia

so a lot of highschool AUs are just..... Bad? like LOL sorry :x but. youre taking away everything interesting about the miraculous holders, And youre trying to make Fully Grown Adults into children. ??????

n e ways, i found this highschool dropout au,,, im Sure you can guess how i feel abt dugout and tiderdrop together, but personal biases aside (its Icky to me and someday ill figure out why)..... lets read this fic.

(to prove i am Not taking things out of context, heres the whole fic)

FIRST of all, youre ognna notice that the prose is Boring, written in long and uninspired runon sentences. i dont wanna just bash on an inexperienced writer, but if youre gonna be this lazy about it.. who is it for :x

second, headcanoning mariquitas name as the Only spanish name you can think of that starts with "mari"? is just uninspired. mariquita wouldnt Choose a hero name so obviously close to her Real Name.. again im not an unmasker, but this headcanon is ridiculous....

finally, and most importantly.... "he sighs wearily". umm, No actually. he Doesnt. you dont even get an insight into dugouts thoughts other than "im nervous about school >m<"

Needless to say, this and his whiny, whimpering demeanor is incredibly infantilizing,. Furthermore in this context, all it does is plays into the ""yaoi"" trope of a big buff bad big boy x boy who says uwaaah! (i hope it goes without saying, this is Not a condemnation of boys who say uwahh, yall are doing gods work and ily)

cramming tigerdrop and dugout into this trope comes off as (and actually is) incredibly homophobic and harmful. need i remind you, these are real people. i wouldnt be surprised if this author was a fujoshi or something too :x

anyways.

im a dugout fan Because hes reserved, but in this fic, thats being watered down to him just being sad and whiny.

its just so insulting to be written shrugging every 3 sentences. dugout im so sorry theyre doing this to you ;;;

guhh. ill give them points for this cute relationship with mariquita...

but again, the prose is just.. clumsy. and again, all dugout does is whine about change. its not even a realistic portrayal of adjustment disorder :x

speaking of disorders Lol,

we Know how i feel abt tigerdrop, but i tend to actually like fanfic portrayals of him.

but this one is just... Confusing...

(also we have mandatory "describe their entire outfit in vapid detail" LOL i should have made this a bingo)

i havent really been talking about the plot, but heres what it took the author two chapters to get through:

dugout it new in town, hes nervous about the changes. (we dont even know why he misses home??? just, make it up i guess, god forbid a fanfiction Make That part up!!!!!!)

tigerdrop has lived in new york all his life, and he appears to be pretty bored with life (ex: pushes pipsqueak over just because he thought itd be funny, no doubt an allusion to the canal street incident last july)

his characterization is actually really confusing and i think its supposed to be like, Alluring??? but its just disconcerting :x

thats It. Two established characters and empty conversations with others (the mariquita mischaracterization especially drives me up the wall ever since i confirmed my kin with her)

they meet in math class when dugout unknowingly sits in tigerdrops seat..... girl, Literally no one in high school acts like this.

at this point, this fic is no better than glee and the millions of other incorrect and careless portrayals of highschoolers. tigerdrop has some weird banter with the faceless teacher (yet Another reason i hate most highschool fics)

:/ i Kinda saw it coming, but....

tigerdrop apologizing and not meaning it? In character. But, hes just acting like a greaser, and its Weird

dugout wouldnt care! he would not look like "a deer in the Headphones."

i Realize the author doesnt have a beta reader but :x that doesnt excuse pawning off lazy work btw, in case anyone was wondering....

last but probably Most important: this is setting up such a toxic dynamic. tigerdrop is actively pushing the message that dugout is taking up too much space and he doesnt belong. its alienating and shitty. and this is a fic Shipping Them :x

but i Clicked on a dropout fic, so.... should i be surprised :/

like i said. dugout is Already afraid of him.. his body is reacting just to the sound of his voice, not unlike trauma in PTSD victims!

like. guh. this is literally so toxic. also..

take a shot every time you see the word "smirks"

lips ghosting his nose And ear? Lol.....

likely The Worst way to incorporate their miraculous personas :x reading this literally made me nauseous.

anyways.... thats all of the fic thats been posted so far. so to summarize: this is just Icky. its even worse, setting this kind of relationship in their high school years :x imagine if someone treated you this way! youre Not gonna grow up and marry them.

i Cant even.

~ ty for reading <3 ~

[maya-matlin]

I'm embarrassed to even admit this (and am thankful that you have anon on!) but I actually like Lucas Scott more than Dan Humphrey. Please don't think I'm disagreeing with anything you wrote in that Jess vs Dan vs Lucas vs Jughead analysis, because it really was brilliant and totally on target. But Dan kind of desperately wanting to be accepted by the snotty high society Upper East Side crowd even while judging and mocking them (and apparently secretly stalking and humiliating them all as gossip girl lol) just bothers me and for me isn't at all something Lucas - or Jess or Jughead- would care about. Lucas is a lot of not great things, but he's truly not into status, pretentious or desperate for acceptance. And as you've pointed out, Lucas is actually a decent and generally honest human being outside of his romantic relationships---I just can't ever see him playing a secret 'gossip girl' type role in OTH or even caring enough about gossip to constantly read and write about it. Even if we pretend Dan wasn't Gossip Girl, which he shouldn't have been for several reasons, he's got more of a Julian thing of caring more about status and popularity than Lucas, Jess or Jughead imo. I still like Dan and think he's a great match for Blair---I just also think he's a little more deceitful, hypocritical and into status than Lucas, Jess or Jughead...but then again he's a character on Gossip Girl, where pretty much everyone is fairly terrible in that way :) As for Lucas---yeah, he's indecisive and lies to himself and therefore others about his romantic feelings, and the center point in any love triangle always justifiably grates on everyone's nerves lol. And like the other three guys mentioned here, he can definitely be judgy and self-righteous. But there's a lot I like about Lucas too---he's smart and cerebral, he's brave and protective, he's very insightful (except when it comes to himself lol) and I really do think he cares about people deeply. But I get that that doesn't excuse his flaws :) Thanks for reading this - I have no idea how or why it's so long!

Aw, you don't have to be embarrassed! I respect your privacy, though. It's funny I gave the impression I don't like Lucas. The truth is, I like him a lot and spend most of the show actively enjoying his character. Seasons 1 and 5 were pretty terrible (though season 1 at least gave him a solid foundation compared to season 5's constant fuckboy behavior). I bash Lucas because I genuinely care and get so frustrated because I know he's capable of being better than he ends up being. His whole arc went to shit because of multiple love triangles and the bizarre idea that he needed to be "in denial" over his feelings for Peyton, multiple times, rather than just owning up to the fact he had complicated feelings for multiple women at the same time. And unfortunately, this behavior manifested itself in multiple instances of cheating because the dude was desperate for love and needed validation when it came to his love life. Anyways. Needless to say, I also prefer Lucas to Dan simply because I'm way more invested in One Tree Hill than Gossip Girl.

I appreciate the compliments. 💙 It really wasn't anything. Just random thoughts I threw together LOL. Your critique of Dan is fair. The thing about Gossip Girl is that the morality is upside down. Everyone screws over everyone and it's generally accepted that the wealthy elite can do no wrong. Dan doesn't quite fit into this crowd yet benefits from much of the privilege due to attending the same private school and later becoming Lily's stepson and eventually, Serena's husband. So he ends up being an honorary member of the core group, though he grew up in a very different environment, meaning it's much easier for Dan to be judgmental of the other characters. I think I just ignore the "Dan is Gossip Girl" reveal? There's no real way to make sense of it or to claim everything adds up based on what we saw on screen throughout seasons 1-5. It was a mistake for any character we saw on a regular basis to be revealed as Gossip Girl. But if I'm forced to acknowledge the reveal, you're correct that none of the other three would ever in a million years do such a thing. This implies there was a part of Dan that was so desperate to belong and to fit into the upper east side that he schemed, manipulated, stalked, gaslit and essentially pretended to be a different person to keep up the ruse. It's very dumb, as is the idea that everything was actually a secret love letter to Serena, someone he'd stopped seriously loving years before. To be fair though, I still haven't seen the final season of Gossip Girl. Your point about Dan being a Julian type is probably accurate. The thing about comparing those four characters is that it doesn't 100% add up. They're similar archetypes, but don't necessarily play the same roles on their respective shows. Dan was never presented nearly as heroically as Lucas was. By the time season 2 premiered, it was pretty clear the morality of the show had shifted with Chuck Bass becoming the male lead. The focus shifted to awful, privileged people doing underhanded things while looking beautiful (and Ed Westwick was there too) rather than viewing these characters through the eyes of the less privileged Humphreys. I mean, it was always a stretch due to Rufus being a rockstar, but in Gossip Girl world Dan is the poor one.

I have nothing to add to your thoughts about Lucas's strengths, but I 100% agree. Lucas has a lot going for him and is truly good at heart. He just doesn't need to be in a relationship until he gets some therapy. Unfortunately, he masked his problems by rushing down the aisle and starting a family. At this point, I have to assume he and Peyton are divorced, but that's just my wishful thinking.

[lemonhemlock]

Someone tt made like 3 videos on gayle bashing her looks and tagged literally every single hbo account maybe its damn well time to put the phone down

"Im sure shes a good actress" then proceeds to bash gayle looks 💀

are you referring to kerusso? i mostly scroll past her videos when they show up in my feed

no offence but her takes are too basic for me and i just don't have the patience 💤

i have the feeling a lot of people were expecting alys to be this drop dead gorgeous conventionally attractive gothic beauty, because they want aemond to pull westeros' next top model. there's a reason katie mcgrath was such a popular fancast as she is absolutely stunning in a classical way that appeals to mostly everybody.

because in their eyes, the only reason aemond would become enthralled by her is if she's aphrodite born again. but there's no proper textual indication that was the case, just that she "looked younger" (which again, can mean a lot of things). daemon & criston don't pay her any mind and there's no mention she was the resident seductress of harrenhal. so that leaves open the possibility that there's more to alys' & aemond's relationship than just her bewitching him with her otherwordly beauty

i saw an edit of gayle circling around where she had long dark hair & i thought she looked appropriately witchy and alluring, even though she is not my ideal alys, for reasons i've already stated. perhaps people should wait to see her in costume at least before they cast judgment on whether or not she looks "pretty" enough for their favourite kinslayer. OR perhaps people should re-evaluate how much fanon exactly they have created around this character that they now take for facts. needless to say that attractiveness is not just based on physical traits - personality, charisma, mannerisms, wit, all play a great deal in what we deem as attractive

and, you know, alys doesn't have to appeal to the aemondwives, she just has to appeal to aemond

[undonerhapsodize]

Domestic Burdens

Sonic the Hedgehog Movie!Knuckles the Echidna x g/n!reader TW: cursing, implies violence, injury, blood, bruised limbs, much angst, comfort and fluff, happy ending, SPOILERS FOR THE SONIC MOVIES Word Count: 10.4K

Summary: You never thought you would find yourself living in the same house as a walking, talking echidna. Yet, as you adjust to this new life, secrets begin to unravel, for better, or for worse.

Side note: I write sonic the hedgehog fanfiction because I am mentally ill, I am not mentally ill because I write sonic the hedgehog fanfiction.

I cannot believe this is actually one of my better works of fiction.

Living with Knuckles was an… interesting experience to say the least. “Jarring” is the word you would probably use to describe it, along with “pleasant”. 

Never in your life had you ever encountered something like him. And with Knuckles being a echidna and all, that fact was pretty unsurprising. 

When you first met the guy, it took a lot of self control and convincing from Tom to not go and bash your head against the nearest hard surface. The hedgehog was one thing, he was a one-off. Tails was another, he was kind, kinda cute, and helpful so he got a pass. But another one? And he's big and scary? AND he can beat the shit outta you? Needless to say, you went home and took an ibuprofen.

Jokes aside, he was off-putting at the beginning. To you, at least. While Sonic felt comfortable in forgiving the harm the warrior had caused almost instantaneously, you weren’t so easy-going. Not that you had held any kind of long lasting hatred for what Knuckles had done, but rather it was simply a matter of time and understanding. And understand you did, with the help of Sonic, Tails, and even the echidna himself. It turned out that hearing it straight from the horse's mouth was an effective way of realizing the complexity of the situation Eggman had put the lot of them in, especially Knuckles.

And with that, and the promise of friendship between the hedgehog and the echidna, suspicions of Knuckles’ character disappeared just as fast as they arrived. You didn’t plan on holding his mistakes above his head (like it would do anything remotely close to helping relations heal), for his own past transgressions are just as permanent to him as they are to Sonic and Tails, and everyone else for that matter. Knuckles was a kind being, and you knew that now. Losing his way in his endeavor to protect the Master Emerald doesn’t change that.

Your friendship with him had started out of circumstance. After the fiasco with Eggman, the gang needed to find a place to safely keep the weapon. Tom and Maddie’s place was quickly rooted out as a station. Their home was too close to the city to house it properly. There would be too many strangers getting within reach of it every single day. An accident was bound to happen with that lack of security. There was also the issue with Eggman himself, if he were to ever return. The doctor knew of Tom, but didn’t technically know you. Yes, you were indeed present for much of the chaos, but you all had a feeling Eggman didn’t pay much attention to a random stranger whilst piloting a giant robot.

Lucky enough, you had your own home outside of city limits. It was much like a farmhouse, except for the farm. Wide open space, way out in the country, and no neighbors within sight. It was almost too perfect. Feeling generous and knowing there were limited options, you offered up your humble abode for Knuckles and his emerald to stay. He thought about your proposal for a while before ultimately accepting, saying something along the lines of “I accept your offer, comrade. Let us shake on this alliance.” 

You didn’t understand why Sonic had zipped up to you two, frantically trying to stop him from grasping your hand. Knuckles’ handshake was fine? Like yeah his hand (paw? foot??) is big, but it's not like it would crush yours or anything.

And with that, Knuckles became your new housemate, and you became the substitute Guardian of the Master Emerald.

At first, it was a bit… awkward. It wasn’t hard to tell that the warrior felt out of place, to at least some degree. He spent most of the time in his own designated area of the basement, quietly keeping to himself and no doubt watching the Emerald. He came out to get food, or use the bathroom, or perhaps borrow a book from the shelf in the living room. He did talk some, but not enough to you would like. Sometimes you would act more extroverted than you really were, going out of your way to ask the echidna some questions about Angel Island and his preferences on certain things. He always gave short, curt answers that went straight to the point. If you didn’t know better, you could think he’d be pissed at you for asking anything at all. If you had to pick a favorite, once you asked him what his favorite fruit was, only to get a bizarrely serious response. As Knuckles padded back into the basement, he stopped briefly, contemplating his answer for a second or two before glancing back at you.

“I enjoy grapes.”

He walked away right after.

Not letting Knuckles’ lack of social skills inhibit your progress, you still pursued. And steadily, you gained progress. First came simple things, like what the echidna liked to eat, or what he would do to pass time while watching the Master Emerald. Then, conversations started to happen, usually about what Sonic, Tom and the gang were up to. Sometimes you spoke about how work had gone for you, though in the beginning you usually held back on talking too much about that, since Knuckles never seemed to be listening. Later on, you were given a pleasant surprise. 

One time, as you stood at the kitchen’s stovetop cooking up something for you and Knuckles, who sat quietly on a barstool at the kitchen island. You had started to feel as if you were rambling on about this one incident that happened with your coworkers. With no response from the red mammal, you assumed your story was starting to become a bother. So you stopped about halfway through it, instead deciding to focus on the pan in front of you. He’s a battle-hardened warrior, why would he ever want to listen to some silly story about spilled coffee? Going back to the food, you were content to quiet down, despite that annoying feeling in your chest.

“Why did you stop?”

The question surprised you. It was abrupt, coming from behind. Turning, you look toward the echidna, who now had his eyes on you. The softer, smaller quills on his brow were furrowed in genuine confusion. Fumbling for your words a bit, you reply back just as confused. “S-sorry, I didn’t know you were listening.”

“I was.” Knuckles countered, tone lowered in his earnesty. He titled his head back down to the kitchen counter from once it came, folding his arms across the hard surface comfortably. “Continue. I was enjoying your tale.”

At that, you grin, going back to the stove to finish cooking you and the echidna’s dinner whilst you recount the events from this morning at the office.

Knuckles soon became a key person in your life. He was not one for words, but you soon learned not many were needed with him. Most often then not, he understood the silence was a natural part of company. A thing others could learn from him, including yourself. He even gave advice on the simple things that troubled you. His straightforward way of communicating never failed to speak the obvious when truths were hard to say out loud. Though your friendship with him had just started, you trusted him. And just maybe, he trusted you. He was always there, figuratively AND literally.

Though you planned on changing that last part.

It wasn’t often where you would descend to the basement into Knuckles’ domain. You never wanted to intrude upon his space, his privacy and security were important to you. Though once in a while, you would have to enter to ask a question or two.

He didn’t have a door, only a long set of stairs leading to the bottom floor. He could definitely hear you coming as you stepped down, down. The stairs weren’t exactly the quietest thing. As you peaked around the corner, you knocked firmly on the wood of the wall, just in case he was preoccupied and hadn’t heard you. You greet him all the same, knowing to announce yourself when he is on guard duty. “Hey Knux?”

There you saw the echidna, laying on an older model of a coach you had given him, head propped up on a cushion while reading a book. The master emerald laid on the other end of said coach. He moved the novel away from his snout so it wasn’t obscuring his vision of you, responding to the nickname you had given him like it was own with a simple “What is it?”

Given the greenlight, you asked your question “Where'd you put all the total paper?”

He seemed confused. It was an emotion that occurred to him often when dealing with things like this. He thought for a split second before asking his own question back. “From… when I helped you in storing the supplies?”

You nodded, assuring him he was right. “Yeah when we put the groceries away a few days ago.”

Knuckles looked deep in thought as he tried recalling the event, eyes in a blank stare seeing nothing at all as he dug up the answer. It would be fitting for a buffering effect to appear above his head at this moment.

He looked over, slowly turning his head as he drawled out his sentence. “I think… I recall… placing the package inside… the garment washing station?” It came out more as a question than anything else, holding little confidence. 

You blinked, still perplexed. You spoke to yourself quietly, not directly talking to Knuckles anymore. “The laundry room? Huh.” You paused, scratching the back of your head. “I already checked it. Guess I’ll look again.”

“Have I put it in the wrong location?” Though it was just a few words, you could detect a small amount of apprehension in his voice.

You wave him off casually, wanting to ease any guilty feelings that may be developing. “Nono you’re fine. That’s where I told you to put them. I’ll just have to take another look.”

He stared at your figure for a minute before nodding, picking up his book once more and getting comfortable. “Well, if that is all, then I shall return to reading.”

You chuckled quietly at the formality. Turning to go back up the stairs, you caught a glimpse of the wall of the basement. It was barren, completely. That’s weird. You look more, craning your head to gaze more at your surroundings. As you start to properly take in the atmosphere of the basement, it dawns on you. You’ve never fully realized it before, given you haven’t had the opportunity to until now.

Knuckles’ space was lonely. Extremely lonely looking.

There were the essentials, coach, table, bed, even a box tv, but not a whole bunch else. The space lacked any kind of personality or decoration. Almost like a default Sims room. There was nothing there to define it as Knuckles’ own space, completely empty of anything he could call his own. It bothered you.

“Is there something else that needs asking?”

The echidna looks to you, the same inquiring expression as before. Had he even glanced away in the first place, you didn’t know.

You kept your mouth shut as you mentally ran through your options, not wanting to say anything rude. You scolded yourself. Should’ve known better. Knuckles came from a completely different world. Did you think he brought anything with him? He owns nothing. The only exception being his own damn shoes. 

You feel you’re at a loss when suddenly, a lightbulb pops in your head. Oh.

You face Knuckles, finally answering. “Hey…” You start, a little nervy for his reaction. “What do you think about going to the store with me?”

He pauses, and looks at you as if you’ve grown another head. “The store?”

You nod.

Without missing a beat, Knuckles was once again, confused.  He sat his book down on the coach, sitting up upright. “Why?”

You shrug. “Thought you’d just want to go outside a little. You haven’t done that since you got here.” While it wasn’t lying, it wasn’t telling the truth either.

Knuckles shook his head. “No.” He declined. “I cannot. I am forbidden from leaving the emerald unattended.”

Humming, your feet shifted positions, angling you so you were leaning against the wall. “Aw come on.” You say, halfway between a whine and an exclamation of annoyance. But even still, Knuckles held his ground, a stern frown set on his face. “No. I must turn down your offer.”

You sigh, shoulders slumping.

The echidna notices. “I am sorry.” He turns back to the book that had been resting face down on the coach. “Now… if you’ll excuse me, I will return to the fox’s book…”

Your mouth dropped in the shape of an ‘O’, an idea hitting you at the mention of your mutual friend. “Wait.” You exclaim, regaining Knuckles’ attention. “What if Tails can watch it?”

He starts, brain slowing a little at the discovery of this new information. “...If the fox can act as guardian while I am away?” Repeating the sentence out loud to affirm it, looking to you to see if he had heard it right. You nod, practically on the edge of your seat, waiting for him to carry out his sentence. 

“Well,” He starts. “The fox can be trusted,” Knuckles looks deep in thought as he ponders this new option. “I suppose if the hedgehog does not interfere with Tails’ focus then, I guess it is possible.”

That’s all you needed to hear. “It would just be for a matter of hours. Shopping doesn’t take a whole day.”

Knuckles rubs his chin. He contemplates the idea of Tails taking over his position a bit more before he ultimately accepts, not having much reason to say no. “If so,” He makes eye contact with you, purple irises peering into your own a little intense for the circumstance. Yet, Knuckles is Knuckles, and he is determined. He speaks with that same formality he often does, “Then I do accept your offer, Y/N of house L/N.”

Oh yeah, forgot about that.

“It’s just Y/N Knux. I’ve told you that.”

It took about a week to organize you and Knuckles’ little shopping trip. Between your work schedule and Tails’ own experiments, it was somewhat difficult to arrange for him to come over. Yet, you were stubborn, and with some convincing for Knuckles, and reassurances for Tails, you got the fox over for your house. He didn’t need to do much, just keep an eye on the Master Emerald while you all were away. All it took was a quick tour of the house, showing him where the food and utensils were, a quick goodbye and you and the echidna were off.

Knuckles had asked before where you two would be shopping and what you would be shopping for. You did your best to wave him off, telling him what kind of stores you would be going to, but not so much your intention. As vague as it was, he chose not to question any further.

You took Knuckles to a variety of shops, Home Goods, Target, Home Depot. All shared one feature. Decor. Through the limited time you had spent with him, you had learned some things about his world. As confined as your knowledge was, you know it DID NOT look like the plain basement he was currently living in. And though he’d never said otherwise, it wasn’t hard to believe that the echidna could be a little homesick. You would be if you were in his position. You planned on making his home more like a home. Nothing less.

And so, you did. First, you tried looking for larger things. That way you could build a foundation, and work your way up with smaller items. This way, you could also fill up the otherwise empty space. You figured some blankets to make an overhang type thing and the hammock you found in clearance would do nicely.

“These would look really nice in your room, Knux. Whadya think?” You paused, catching yourself, a stutter falling from your lips. “I-I mean if you want to? You don’t have to- of course.”

Knuckles looked up at you. He blinked, eyes widening a slight fraction. You two were the only ones in the aisle.

“So.” He said slowly.  “This was your plan?” 

“Uh” You eloquently spoke. “Yea?” Reflexively averting your eyes from the echidna, you sweat dropped, waiting for Knuckles to react. How could you face him when he was gazing at you like that?

Though what you assumed was a look of offense, was actually of wonder, and even something of another nature.

Knuckles inhaled, turning toward the bundled up hammock on the rack, picking it up with a gloved hand. The silence was suspenseful. It usually happened this way: Knuckles doing much of his thinking in his own head while you stressed out internally. It would be funny if you didn’t constantly get the short end of the stick.

“Do you pity me?”

You were caught off-guard, head whipping back to the echidna. What? Why would he say that? “I- uh, no?”

He kept his gaze on the hammock as he spoke, each syllable low as he concentrated on saying them correctly. “Is pity the reason you choose to do things like this?

Mouth agape, you truly were lost. To say you had trouble finding words was an understatement. Did he- feel bad? That was the last thing you wanted him to feel.

You take your time choosing your next words, for they could either make or break this moment. “I- listen Knux, look at me? Please?” And so he did, standing a little slouched in comparison to his regular, straight posture. The lavender purple of his eyes had a guarded melancholy to them you had never seen before. Both changes spur you on to reassure your friend while also shake you where you stand. The range was astounding.

You cleared your throat. “N-No, not out of pity per say…” You trailed off, struggling to find the right words as Knuckles stood patiently, quietly, never once taking his eyes off you. “I just- the other day when I asked you about the toilet paper? Yeah I uh, I realized how unwelcoming and- plain your space looked and I just felt bad because you didn’t have a single thing a-and I wanted you to feel a home- I know it's probably really hard being launched into a whole new world with nothing but some shoes and I just-”

Knuckles reached out and grasped your hand, gripping it gently appit firmly. It pulled you out of your spiraling ramble. “Slow down.” He urged. “You’re not in a race Y/N, house of-”

“Ok, ok” You laugh a little, giggling at the return of the silly title and wrangling with the fact he had grabbed you in the first place.

You take a breath, inhaling deeply before starting again. “I just- want you to feel comfortable. And, I thought this was a way to do it.”

At that, Knuckles’ features relax, and he looks away, thinking. “I- You are a very kind human.” He concludes, dropping your hand to take a set back from you. “But,” He says, a hint of reluctance in his voice. “I cannot accept this.” He moves to put the hammock back, reaching up to set it back on the shelf. 

“Wha- hey! Wait, why?” You half shout, catching his hand and stopping his movement. Though he could easily muscle past you, he chooses to stop with you. “Because,” He defends. “I do not need it.”

You huff. “Well I know that, Winter Soldier.” You go to gently pry the hammock out of Knuckles’ hand. Again, he lets you, though not without a face that screams ‘what are you doing’. “But I want you to have it.”

The warrior detests. “I don’t-”

“Knuckles, bud.” You tenderly cut him off, smiling with a benevolence that you hope conveys your honesty. “I want to do this for you.” You lean forward to pronunciate your sentence, catching eyes with the echidna that widens more and more as you continue to speak. “I don’t mind buying this, or anything else for you.” You shake the item in your hand for emphasis. “Will you let me?”

Knuckles freezes momentarily. You swear you see a hint of pink on what you would consider his cheeks as he somewhat suddenly turns his head away, wrestling with himself and with your proclamation.

“I-” He’s stuck, and he has to give himself a mental kick in the rear to get him going again. “I guess… I would like the hanging blanket.”

You let out a sigh, relieved you both are on the same page. “Awesome.”

After getting most of the larger decorations, you then focus your attention on smaller things. What those smaller things would be is now up to Knuckles, who has grown more open to the whole ordeal as the hours passed. A large variety of things were considered, such as candles and fairy lights, even some abstract art pieces that would be fit for a garden. Though the things that were favored above all, and the things that you kept catching the echidna staring at, were the plants. His eyes would linger on the greenery, especially on some of the more exotic ones. Those didn’t take much convincing to let you buy, the warrior only giving a few words in approval: “This one will do…” “...Possibly this one as well.” It wasn’t hard to tell that Knuckles felt weird doing plant shopping of all things, he’s never done anything like it before. And because of that, you did everything with your power to talk to him, to make this as casual and as pleasant as an experience can be. Normalizing domesticity in one of the most powerful fighters in the galaxy may sound difficult on the surface, but as you two approached the end of your short adventure (store worker looking as flabbergasted at your friend as a person could), you found no trouble at all leading Knuckles to check out at the last shop with your abundance of wildlife greenery, and onto this new kind of life you’ll be sharing with the echidna from now on.

It didn’t take long to set all the decor up back at home. With Knuckles’ help, you all made quick work of it. The hammock came first, finding a secure way to hang the thing was a little tricky, but once you broke out the power tools, installing it went by with a breeze. Same case for the fort. You looked up some ideas on pinterest, but you quickly learned that there is actually some strange red mammal in the house who can make a really rad blanket fort by memory. You’ll have to ask him for advice sometime. As for the plants, the one space was filled right up, the emptiness being replaced with a vibrancy that definitely made you feel welcomed. As for Knux, well, he was happy. You knew it. Even as he tried to keep a straight face as he walked around admiring the hanging plants, which branches gracefully cascaded over the rim of their pots. 

“While nothing could ever replace my home,” Knuckles said remorsefully as he adjusted a small potted fern, angling it in the most eye-catching way, “This does make the space feel… different.” He trailed off, looking down as he thought of a history and sentiment not unknown to you.

“A good kind of different?” You ask with a hint of a coy tone.

Knuckles looks at you, your playfulness gone completely over his head. Instead, his face is pleasant, approving in some way. “I think so…” He remarks, words sounding confident to your ears. Though his expression changes to something more reluctant as the next thought pops into his head, slipping out his mouth before he can stop it. “You did not have to provide this…”

It takes a good amount of effort to steel yourself from rolling your eyes in the back of your head. You ‘tsk’ in frustration. “Knux, I know. But I chose to. Understand?”

He nods, though hesitant to fully accept the finer feelings, “Yes... It is a lot like the echidna’s honor code in battle.” Seeing your perplexed face at his random reference, he elaborates. “Even though my tribe held proud independent warriors, we helped our comrades at our own discretion. Whether they wanted the aid or not.”

At that, you made a sound of realization. “Ohhh okay, okay. I get it.” You smile down at your friend, who had seemed satisfied in how his room now appeared. It brought you great joy to see the typically stone-faced tank with a softer, more relaxed look. It gave you the confidence to ask one more borderline teasing question, “See, some things aren’t so different, now are they?”

Once again, the intention passes Knuckles by. “No,” he notes, too preoccupied with his own brain to give back any more of an answer. “No they are not.”

You take no notice, grinning in genuine joy for Knuckles. “Good.”

It's during the most unsuspecting moments in which the most unexpected events take place. Shouldn’t you know that by now?

What the fuck. I should go to the ER. No that’s a stupid idea. What the fuck are they gonna do, put ice on it? I can do that. What the fuck. Well I’ll probably need something more than ice. Ibuprofen? Maybe. A shot? Yeah. What the fuck. Why? Why did they do that? I don’t understand. To me? Why to me? I’m sorry. What the fuck. I’m tired. I wanna go to bed. What if I wait till the morning? Can I sleep like this? I can try. Probably not. What the fuck. Should I call my friends? No they’re probably busy. I can take care of it. What the fuck. Was it really that special? Was it worth that much trouble? I should’ve been more careful. How old was it? I’m sorry. What the fuck. That bitch. What a fucking piece of shit. I’m sorry. What the fuck.

The calculating rationality that most healthy-minded people would have in these situations was lost to you. Sometimes you thought of it as a gift from god himself: the ability to see things in such simplicity that the problem itself never even posed an ounce of a threat. Never in your life have you had that. Though, never in your life have you ever been healthy-minded, so the math kinda works out in a weird, twisted way.

The hole in your chest remained through it all. Never once subsiding in its outrage. It held every emotion possible as it freely expressed them all, only confined to your heart. Unwavering in every roar, it made such a ruckus. If only it felt just as exposed as you did, then maybe it would shut up. Maybe it would silence itself, just as you were now. Instead, you would have to deal with its burden, as well as the aching that started from your forearm, leading up to the triceps of your shoulder.

It was still daytime. The sun had not yet set, though it was about to. The sky’s vast shades of pinks, purples and blues lit up the darkening landscape of the range, the green and the brown of the earth ever so slowly growing into one cool shade of black. The air was as crisp as ever. It felt mocking in how pure it was, untouched by the will of others beyond its reach. It was the only thing pushing you to walk up your own porch’s stairs, for every bone in your body absolutely refuted the idea of entering your home in the condition that you were in. And only because of one thing. One, small thing.

Your melancholy seemed to express itself through the stomp of your shoes on the old wood. Bump bump bump. It was quiet, not wanting to be heard. Though it was, as there were no sounds to go with it besides the giggling of your keys and the distant sounds of crickets coming to life. Though the adrenalin had since worn off, the nerves had not yet seized. You’ve only got through half the battle. And who to say it had even begun in the first place?

The key was a little difficult to find with one hand. With a shaky arm, you plucked it from the batch, loudly shaking it to rid it of its neighbors. It was slotted in with a good push. You didn't have much trouble turning it. It was with a weighted heart you entered the house, stepping one foot, and then the other past the threshold, the door letting out a loud creak to welcome you home. You didn’t appreciate it. Just as quickly as you were cleared, you gripped the edge roughly, firmly shutting the door back up, locking it, therefore silencing it, for the night.

The house was just as quiet. The thunk of the shut door echoed through the house, disturbing the void. You found yourself unwilling to move forward. The feeling in your heart didn’t want you to. It weighed you down to the floor, outright sticking the soles of your feet to the carpet of the doormat. If it wasn’t for the consistency of your arm’s pain, it was possible you would’ve been standing there all night. It keeps you motivated, reminding you of its presence with every throb. 

You toe’d your shoes off where you stood, setting the keys down softly onto the table beside it. Eyeing the kitchen sink that was visible from the door, you padded towards it quietly, evading any spots prone to creek. One by the TV, another by the dividing wall, another by the knife drawer. You subconsciously counted them whilst listening to your quiet feet step one, after the other, after the other.

You nudged the water on with your elbow, the liquid coming out the tab in an easy trickle. Putting your hand under the stream, you felt the water for its temperature. You found it was tolerably lukewarm. That should be fine. Muscling the appendage up from its hanging position below the counter, you bent your arm at the elbow, angling your forearm to get the brunt of the water’s force. You winced when it made contact. It wasn’t pleasant at all. As soothing as it should feel, the area was still sensitive, even to the gentle stream. You watched uneasily as the sink was turned a maroon, the red coloring the once clear liquid. From there, you started to gently rinse off the wound, trying to wash away the blood that had since dried and scabbed over. It was a tedious and aggravating task. The blood was stubborn. You had to really scrub to get it to leave, irritating both you and your skin. You started using some of your fingernails when you became impatient, ignoring the pain that came with it. Anxiety started to bubble within you the longer you stood there, the old clock in the living room doing nothing to ease your nerves as it boldly ticked away. Tick tick tick. You swear this was sabotage. Karma has come to get you. If only this would go faster, then maybe you wouldn’t be out in the open so-

“You’ve returned early.”

Whatever you ate from lunch that day immediately tripled in weight, making your stomach drop at the sound of his voice. You stopped rubbing at your arm, freezing the movement entirely. Your posture went rigid, though you tried masking it with a shift in your stance. You refused to turn around to face him. You couldn’t. Not now, not here. You wouldn't risk it. You didn’t trust your poker face at this moment, which was too caught up in showing you trying to figure out a response that remained calm.

You let out a humorless chuckle. It was so unnatural and disingenuous it made you cringe. Not dissimilar to nails on a chalkboard. “Ha ha yeah, we uh- finished up pretty quickly.” You say this while still facing the sink. Though you were no actor, you felt comfortable resuming your washing, this time slowing down with slower, more deliberate strokes as to appear with a facade of calmness.

“I suppose that is good.” Knuckles shrugs as he says, “Based on what you said before you departed.” He begins to walk closer and off to the right, edging his way to your side, unaware of the person on the edge of a mental breakdown right in front of him. Hearing his footsteps grow nearer, you shift your weight to ensure your back is to the echidna, even as he tries to change that. It almost makes you forget what he had just said, not expecting the remark. “Oh- uh, right.” You say, feigning an agreeing attitude.

You recall the event. You loosely remember telling Knuckles you were heading out. When he asked you why, you didn’t want to lie to him. Poor guy has already had enough of that happen to him. So you told him the truth, adapt a vague version of it. “Just something I promised I’d help someone do. Ha ha… I mean, I don’t really want to, but I’d better.” He watched you leave, silently questioned your weird act as you begrudgingly gathered your things. Yet he knew the importance of promises, he himself taking them very seriously. So he let you go without much fuss, despite the twinge of suspicion in the back of his mind.

He seemed to be satisfied with the closed proximity. About 5 feet away from what you could tell just from your hearing. The sound of the water running still remained in the air, serving as the white noise to this one-sided conversation. You couldn’t even imagine how sore your jaw would be after this from how hard you’ve been clenched it. The emptiness laughed at you as the seconds ticked by. What you wouldn’t give to just seal it away, to just find some semblance of peace, to just be and exist normal in this moment without having to breathe fucking manually just to appear fine.

“How did it go?” Knuckles asked, taking up the mantle as the conversation starter. You would have room to think ‘hey he’s not so bad at it’ if you weren’t a little busy. Yet as it all things go, busy turns into anxiety, anxiety turns into panic, and panic turns into bad. Fucking. Choices.

“Fine.”

Fuck.

Now why did you say that? 

You could feel your face flare up with heat. Out of fear or anger, you couldn’t know. The only thing you did know, was the suffocating sound of silence that followed. It was so loud. You stopped your scrubbing a little bit ago.

“What are you doing?”

Fuck.

You hear the question, but not really. It’s odd coming from the warrior, you think. Though you don’t really think as you have to figure out something, and fast.

“U-uh, dishes.”

You spit it out before you really have a chance to think about it. You’re proud for a half-second at your white lie, but the celebration is short-lived when your insides move in sickening ways for the second time while in the conversation.

“I’ve already done them. There are none.”

Fuck.

The silence finds some way to be worse than before. It’s brutal. Never ending its assault on your hammering heart, and never yielding to the vulnerability of your mind. Oh my god could you please just-

“Is there something-“

“…”

“What is on your arm?”

FUCK.

The dread is immense. The impending doom of that singular question is incredible. All senses are blocked from you like a deer in headlights, unable to make out the true meaning of the ask. The hole in your chest becomes invigorated in its bloodlust, your own panic spurring it on to mobilize it while also paralyzing you.

“It’s nothing.”

“I don’t think it is.” You miss the way he says it. It’s calming, concerned. His eyes are careful. A completely opposite force to you. But it all completely passes you by in the current state you are in.

He takes a set forward, just one. You recoil, just enough for the echidna to notice. He doesn’t take another one as he continues to speak clearly, yet deeply and seriously. It doesn’t help ease you much at all.

“Let me see.” It's more of a demand than a request. It makes you shrink back, lip curled down in displeasure. You knew he meant no harm, but it doesn’t stop the back of your mind from taking it in a negative connotation.

“No! It-It's fine!” You grasp your injured arm, still futilely trying to keep it out of sight from Knuckles. Your heart beats away in your chest, boiling like a pot of hot water about to spill over. You’re scared, you realize that now. Of what, you haven’t got to that part yet.

He takes another step, undeterred by your protests, which spur him on further. “No, it is not.” He reaches a hand up, open and waiting to grasp yours.

“I’m fine. Knux, really.” You stress, your voice becomes wobbly as do you. “It’s o-ok, just-“

“No.” The echidna says, the tone he uses sounds final, yet soothingly firm. It makes you stop your panic, just a little. Every word that comes next feels like magic, doing almost supernatural things to your head to make you hear them, to really hear them, for what they are. Each is punctuated with a softness unlike anything your friend had ever used before.

“Y/N, let me see your arm.”

“Please.”

You stop. Taking a deep breath in, you take your time to let it back out. It allows you to see things the way they actually are. There, Knuckles stands. Arm raised, palm open. His stance is mostly relaxed, though if you look closer, a hint of anxiety is there. His eyes were kind, sympathetic, the crease of his eye wrinkled with a stress you’ve never seen from him. In battle it was a harder line, strengthened with anger and determination. Here it was nothing like that. It was fragile, gentle, and even looked painful to wear for long.

Moved by the look, you evaluate yourself as you were. As defensive as you are now, in hindsight, what were you defending against?

Slowly, you ease up. You wordlessly turn to face him, and without much thought, you lower your arm down and away from your body, and towards Knuckles’ awaiting hand. He takes it, tenderly turning it over to look at what he had seen a glimpse of before.

He freezes. His eyes widen, jaw literally dropping at what he’s seeing. Yet, he doesn’t say a thing. He’s just as frozen as you were a minute ago. Like a statue he just stands there, not moving an inch as all thoughts and movement cease. It makes you sweat, not doing much to quell your aching heart.

He doesn’t make eye contact, keeping his eyes trained on the sight of your arm before him. The quills on the back of his head and around his face start to raise, puffing out his features to make them appear larger. It seems as if he has a hard time saying it himself, as he grits out the question. Finally, he speaks. His eyes narrow, brow furrowing downward at his own word.

“Who?”

Though it was only one word, it didn’t fail in striking trepidation through your heart. You’re silent as the question hangs in the air, awaiting an answer that you never planned on giving.

But Knuckles still wants it, so he asks again.

“It was them… Wasn’t it?”

His voice lowers as he utters the phrase, even as he tries to keep an even tone. His anger builds as the seconds of silence tick by, seconds that do not deny the question. His mouth contorts at the ongrowing outrage, curling down into a snarl. Even he, who knows the repercussions of not keeping your anger under control, cannot stop the blooming, burning feeling so deep in his gut that it makes everything he’s ever said about remaining calm sound like a lie.

And without a response from you, there's nothing to stop the echidna’s rage.

Suddenly, and without warning, Knuckles drops your arm, which you pull back to you to hold. Then, he just… walks away, wasting no time at all as he makes determined strides to the front door. He’s mumbling words as he goes. If you listen closely, you could hear the more punctuated ones, such as ‘coward’, or ‘unworthy’.

“H-hey!” You stutter out, tripping over your own feet as you try going after Knuckles. “What are you doing?”

“Going to go deal with the problem.” He grumbles, making the situation sound oh-so simple. He’s halfway to the exit at this point.

“Hey wait!” You try again, “Where are you going?? I didn’t tell you where I went.” You take more steps to the door, not covering near enough ground to catch up with him.

“I’ll find them.” Knuckles flat out growls, getting increasingly agitated by the second. His fists tighten into intimating weapons of pure strength, just itching to get one good hit in.

An image plays over and over in his head. You, face pale at his discovery of your bleeding arm, the very real fear that showed in your body language. It angered him. Greatly.

He’s about to reach for the door handle before your feet catch up with your thoughts, legs propelling you forward. Your head spins at the possibility of Knuckles facing those responsible. That is the literal opposite of what you wanted. The thought of it alone is what gets you going faster.

“Don’t!” You shout, grabbing his shoulder to stop him from going any further. “Please don’t.”

“And why not?!” He yells right back, whipping himself around to fully face you. He sheered as he spoke, a grumble to his voice that made him appear more frightening than what he truly was. He used a booming voice that conveyed all of his frustrations pretty clearly. “They need to pay.”

“I-I know- just,” You take a minute to rub your hand down your face, already at your stress limit. 

Knuckles interrupts, unable to contain himself at what seems to him is your level of complacency. “It is inexcusable!!” He roars, refusing to back down. “I will not stand for it.” He tried once more to leave, turning away from you. You stop him again, overcome with your own anxiety. You feel the incessant need to fiddle with your hands as you put your foot down.

“I KNOW!” Your scream catches both you and Knuckles off-guard. The house becomes eerily quiet with the lack of noise, the sounds of the pipes and utilities on the edges of their seats as they watch on. You were never one to get aggressive to those you cared for, but desperate times call for desperate measures. And yes, you were, in fact, desperate. Your abdomen cramps, making it harder and harder to sooth the situation like you normally could if you weren’t so caught up in your own head. Your breaths are heavy, holding the weight of everything you have done and said up until this point. You’re sure your lungs are willfully unprepared to take up the burden of what you plan on saying next.

You soon discover you’re right.

“I know-w” you pant, shoulders crumpling in on the rest of your body. “Just pl-please, please dontgo, I donwanna-” It suddenly gets harder to speak, your throat constricting around itself, preventing the words from escaping you. Even it doesn’t want you to sound weak. “I-I’m sorry…” 

At this point, you’re at the end of your rope. You were frightened. Of what Knuckles could do, what they could do, what you would do… it all ran through your mind at a million miles an hour. You haven't even begun to rationalize with yourself the event that got you in this mess in the first place, and it was starting to catch up to you. You simply did not have the mental capacity to process all that it happened. And it showed on your face, lines of worry etched into what used to be smooth features. And suddenly you seem much, much older, The sheer pressure adding decades of age, your bones turning frail, matching the vulnerability of your headspace. Your eyes lowered to the ground, head drooping, ashamed of what you feel and afraid of what you've become because of it.

And Knuckles finally sees it all.

The echidna’s own worry lines grow at the realization, his own chest tightening at the sight of you. It’s a strange thing to him, a feeling he had trouble recognizing at first, seemingly forgotten from his younger days with his father. It confused him, and he didn’t exactly have anything to compare it to. How was the battle-hardened echidna supposed to know what it was? Yet with the help of his new family providing guidance and remaining patient, he was eventually able to figure it out, though only roughly. What he did discover, however, is that it often came with his anger.

He was worried. So, so worried. 

And that scared him.

He didn’t like feeling worried, not one bit. He detested the idea of him being worried the moment he comprehended he was. Knuckles the Echidna, worried? How ridiculous. It was a weak emotion, he thought at first. It would slow him down, make him vulnerable, and even, worst comes to worst, allow for him to get taken advantage of again. That’s what he told himself, at least.

When he saw your arm, he felt his worry come at full force. It struck through his heart, piercing it with a sharp, clean cut. What he left out of his explanation for his dislike of worry, was the deeper meaning that had apparently escaped all he knew, even his closest friends.

It was the fact that his worry reminded him of everything he had failed to do. Every promise he broke, every vow he made to nobody but himself yet did not hold true. And even then, as he realized the how and the who to the backstory of your injuries, he failed again, once more not delivering on a promise he made to himself: to protect his protector. And oh, did it anger him. It angered him so much. To fail at such an extent, it was downright shameful.

It was easy for the madness to take hold, he often let it. And he did. He let his anger control him when he found your blood exposed to the elements, your skin inflicted with a bruise the size of a baseball. It coursed through his veins at an insane rate, setting his mind into overdrive, acting as a catalyst to every negative image that crossed his mind. A spark ignited within him, the flame erupting within his chest, the flame of revenge. “How dare they? How could they? You?! Of all people to attack? How weak, how pathetic. How dishonorable.”

And in that instance, he remembered his promise, and sought it out to hold it true, by whatever means necessary. It would be easy for him. Light work even, and he would definitely get immense satisfaction in absolutely pummeling your enemies. You wouldn’t even have to lift a finger.

Though easy does not mean right. And as much as he would find gratification in solving this problem for you, your health took precedence over everything. Even this. He knew that, it just took him a minute to fully remember. Your eyes sure helped, pleading, watery, bloodshot from stress, it all came together in a heartbroken concoction, like a liquid potion ready to persuade its victim of anything. And he had fallen for it, though willingly. It wasn’t hard, you were you after all.

He takes a deep breath to settle that smoldering fire within him. “Okay.” He speaks within a new tenderness that does wonders to calm your racing heart. “I won’t go anywhere, nor do anything.”

He grasps your arm carefully, beginning to lead you to the couch nearby. “Come,” he says “let's sit you down. Your wound needs treatment.”

You nod absentmindedly, not exactly understanding, but doing so nonetheless. You follow him one step at a time as you take your seat, Knuckles leading you down all the while. His touch isn’t something many would expect from the tough echidna. It was gentle, delicate, like a soothing balm to cover the sores on your soul. “Stay.” He spoke in a whisper, “I will return with the box of aid.”

“First aid?” You joke weakly, voice cracking with the effort.

Knuckles is either unaware of the gag, or chooses not to react. “Yes, that.”

Without another word, he quickly dashes away, returning just as fast with the kit in hand.

It took some mumbled guidance from you for the echidna to understand what to do. Though that was understandable, since the guy has never had to use the first aid kit before. 

He was uncharacteristically careful in how he treated your wound. Every time the pads of his fingers brushed against your skin, it was gentle, almost feather-like. Especially around the mangled tissue of your injury. Here, Knuckles’ touch was that of a ghost. There, but not really. Its presence was felt, surely, though not nearly enough for your senses to pick it up as something harmful. You could confidently say the warrior had not caused you any excess pain. Which was already monumentally better than you.

It was quiet as he worked. It was somewhere between a comfortable and uncomfortable silence. It was hard to tell which. So many things remained questioned, so many things remain unsaid. What could you say? What good will an explanation do? Well, some obviously. You of course knew that. It was still hard though, to say the truth. Even if you’ve known it for years.

As rough as you were, the wound was clean of any dried blood or debris. Knuckles knew as well, and went straight to wrapping it up. Placing a sterile absorbent pad on the bruise he secured it with some medical tape, which he probably used an excessive amount of. But you chose not to say anything. He also examined your bruise on your forearm, though decided there wasn’t much to be done about that. However, it didn’t stop him from putting a bandaid on the area. Again, you let it slide.

Knuckles quickly gathered up the supplies he had gotten from the kit, putting them back in the box haphazardly. I’ll fix it later, you thought to yourself.

The warrior chose to sit by your side about a foot apart from you. Not too close, not too far. He held his tongue for a minute, eyes kept trained on the floor beneath the both of you. Perhaps waiting for you to speak first, perhaps muddling over the same thing you were. It was not easy for anyone to read the echidna’s mind, not unless Knuckles himself said his thoughts aloud.

Which he often did.

“How come you didn’t tell me of this?” He spoke the question in a whisper, matching the delicate atmosphere with the tone of his voice. He looked to face you, eyes missing their usual luster of purple. You hated to be the cause of such a loss.

You had to think for a second. You yourself didn’t know the answer to such an ask, even though you would be the one person who would. You fidgeted with your fingers, picking at the skin of them as your mind twisted and turned. It took several more moments before you could come up with a conceivable answer, one at least an outsider could begin to understand.

“I… I didn’t know what to do.” You started. Knuckles sat to your right, as patient as ever, gloved hands propped up on the coach, which straightened his posture to attention. 

You continue as best you could, “I guess- I mean, I think I wanted to handle it?” It comes out in the question, not sure of yourself in the slightest.

“Why?” Knuckles butts in, quick to question the decision. His brows furrowed in confusion, genuinely not understanding.

“Why?” You say back, parrot-like. “Uh-h…” You had to think to yourself again. It’s astonishing how so much over thinking can go right down the drain when you need your excessive ideas the most. “Because uhh, I mean it’s my thing isn’t it?”

The echidna’s face doesn’t change, still frozen in trying to figure out what you mean, and it shows on his face. So you try again. “It’s… my responsibility.”

A deep frown spreads across Knuckles’ face, painting his features in a disapproving way. “Your responsibility?” He repeats. You nod meekly, taking hold of your injured arm to cradle it, still not knowing what to do with your hands.

Closing his eyes, Knuckles huffs out a breath. He stands, pushing himself off the coach in a smooth motion. Your heart jumps at the thought of him walking away and leaving you there alone, but the muscle soon calms to see him turn to face you, coming to stand before you. There you two are level. It's truly one of the only scenarios in which the both of you can see eye to eye, when the warrior can peer right into your eyes without having to look up or down. Just maybe, he chose this on purpose.

Knuckles reach down to your lap, oh so gingerly taking your arm into his hands to hold, looking at the bandaged injury whilst he says his piece, the smoothness of his voice just barely echoing through the home. “My father was a kind soul” he breathes out, “yet he had a habit of keeping the burdens that weighed on him all to himself.”

Your eyes grew wide at the mention of Knuckles’ kin. He’s talked about them before, though this is definitely the most personal it's ever gotten. 

“You remind me of him in this way” He looks up to you, eyes with a hazy focus, thumb brushing against the cotton of your bandage softly. “A protector that refuses to be protected.”

The silence is deafening as the two of you contemplate what has just been said. You more so. You’re shocked to say the least. The sentiment of Knuckles comparing you to his own father, someone he loves and respects extensively is… overwhelming. The weight of it seems to help ease your nervousness. 

“What role do you think I play in this tribe?” Knuckles asks, titling his head down to try to make eye contact with you. It kind of works, coaxing your own up to face him as well.

“Uh” You stumble, “A guardian?”

Knuckles does the echidna equivalent of a ‘uh huh’. “Yes. I am a guardian.” He continues, “What of the hedgehog and his fox friend?”

You look up to the ceiling, it now appears much more appealing as you think of a response. “Well they’re kind of protectors too.”

Knuckles nods, asking one more time “And Maddie and Tom?”

You’re on a roll, now feeling more comfortable looking Knuckles in the eyes. “Them too.”

“Right.” He says, satisfied. “In our tribe, we all have the role of guardian. And so, we all protect. Especially each other.”

Now you see where this is going. “Knux, I’m not sure if I-”

He interrupts. “Whatever you are about to say- it is wrong.”

“Knux I-”

“No. Wrong.”

“But I-”

“No.”

You give up, giving in to the echidna’s game. You swear you can see a twinge of a smile start to creep onto his face.

“But if I may,” He adds, voice suddenly becoming dimmer as he breaks eye contact to look back at your arm. “I do think there is one difference among us.”

“In what?”

Knuckles takes a breath, seemingly randomly getting anxious. You can’t fathom why. “As a guardian, I am meant to treat all I protect equally.” You nod, agreeing but not getting the point. “Though I do not.”

He slid his hands down to grip your own, head lifting to let his eyes peer into yours unwaveringly. They look to be dripping with his usual determination, along with something else you couldn’t place. Something kinder, something sweeter. “Though each of us were guardians,” he pauses, thinking for a moment “you have had a different duty ever since the EggMan’s defeat.”

You blink, trying to follow as best you can. Knuckles continues, “Your duty is dangerous. Fragile as humans are, I was surprised when you took up the task. It requires constant vigilance, not many could keep it up for long.”

His hands tighten around yours, squeezing momentarily before easing up. Perhaps a reminder for himself. The urge to squeeze back comes and goes. “I have since then grown a respect for you unmatched by any other. Both because of that, and because of your character.”

His pause invokes a special importance, pulling you in. It was captivating, doing its job in changing the atmosphere only slightly. “You are precious to me, as I have grown to know you. More so than the other members of our tribe.”

Your eyes widen, not expecting such a declaration. You have to keep your mouth from opening in shock.

Unperturbed, the warrior continues. The fiercest of his eyes growing with every passing moment. His grip becomes impossibly more gentle, every callous he ever had suddenly disappearing. “Though my focus does lie with the master emerald, it is you that keeps my attention and company Y/N, not any gem or jewel.”

“I don’t know why you would think that.” You blurred out, too caught off guard to think to hold back.

Knuckles takes it in stride, once again taking a breath, wanting to speak as clearly as possible. The effort from keeping his cool shows on his face, a little scrunched with the strain. He leans in to emphasize his next words, yearning to have you understand him. “I do.”

The staticky fog in your mind doesn’t seem so intense anymore. 

“You have commendable bravery, and a personality unlike any other. Attributes I now hold dear.” Knuckles returns your hands to your lap, taking the opportunity to straighten the fabric of your shirt, which has since been crooked. The neckline is quickly fixed back into its usual spot with a quick tug upward, letting it fall back into position naturally. He now spoke with a more annoyed tone than before. It would’ve alarmed you about 5 minutes ago, though now you’ve calmed, and know the warrior doesn’t point such frustrations to you, but to the third party in question. “Which is why it pains me to see you overwhelmed in this way. Especially by those who are meant to be closest.”

You worry your palms, growing tired at the lack of things you can actually answer. “I’m sorry” You whisper, “I should’ve told you.”

“It’s alright” Knuckles whispers back, in a way that differs from your own. A way that makes your thoughts coherent. That actually helps you understand that he's telling the truth. “I don’t know much of troubles such as this… but I do know they can be complex to you.”

He rolls his shoulders, instinctively resetting his posture. “But to me?” He shrugs, “Not so much.”

That earns a watery chuckle from you. 

The air feels tired, almost rung out of all energy it had. It’s breathable now, and it lets you digest everything, lets the both of you take a moment to grasp with the gravity of the situation. Lets Knuckles figure out what to say next.

“I want you to make a promise.” He speaks, crossing his arms in front of his chest with a huff.

“What kind?”

“My kind.” He responds.

You sit up straight, a little confused. Knuckles takes it as a signal to proceed.

“I want you to promise to ask for my aid if something like this were to happen again.”

You furrow your brow. “Knux, I don’t think I can-”

“Let me restate that.” He rehashes, cutting you off. “I want you to promise to try to ask for my help.”

You bite your lip, looking off to the side in contemplation. Could you? Realistically. It surely was a difficult question to answer, especially with every little negative thought poking into your brain to tell you no. If this question had been asked before, you probably would have said yes just in passing. It would be easy to say yes, just to get the question over with. But now, as you hold the spotlight, you can't lie. Not to him, not right now. It's neither the time nor place. And you don’t think it ever will be. 

But as you look at Knuckles now and into his stupidly sweet lavender gaze of his, your true answer starts to become more and more real. Him and that worried look of his does wonders in helping to encourage you to make that leap, to take that chance that you never knew you would be taking. It's so strange, you think, he could do anything, as mountainous as destroying death robots, or as simple as baking a cake with you on a Sunday morning, and it would all still come together into the nice little package of ‘good’ he had to offer. Nothing changed with him, even now, as that same sense of good comes in clutch to hull you away from your enemies and take on the burden instead of you. An honor like that is impossible to find, and irreplaceable once tossed away. You better remember that Y/N.

And that's when your answer becomes clear. Something so profound and special, so kind and gentle, will never be forgotten or taken for granted if you have any say in it. And it will never shake, nor ever waiver. You have a promise to uphold, and you intend to keep it. As a protector, as the protected, and as a roommate.

[carlyraejepsans]

I REALLY REALLY WANT TO BELIEVE KRIS HAS THE AUTONOMY AND DEGREE OF BAD DECISIONS TO DO STUFF LIKE THAT... I WANT THEM TO HAVE SUMMONED US HERE!

I mean, it would be a direct parallel with chara killing themself to give asriel their soul!

because on a more serious note, i hate the theories that we came out of nowhere and stole kris' body "just because". and that they have no idea where we came from and we're actively stealing their autonomy by simply playing the game. because... ow? it's so unnecessarily cruel to the player. deltarune is a game, our only way of interacting with it IS playing it. and you know most players don't have bad intentions when they do: they play the main intended run, they WANT to make friends with the other characters, and they grow to care about kris, a whole lot actually!

"you're selfishly stealing kris' life from them every time you play the game"... idk it just feels like needless player bashing. especially given that it's a baseless assumption, when the game explicitly tells us that "if you abandon the game, the prophecy isn't fulfilled and everything is covered in darkness". it's why I'm so against the theories that the final boss will be us lol. I'm not fighting these kids.

so yeah, i feel like kris definitely has a plan we don't know of (yet!), them giving up their body/SOUL to us for the greater good would give them some autonomy in the game's story and them regretting it when things don't go as planned (ie their seeing themself in spamton) also work as a parallel to what happened in undertale.

but either way, I can't wait to see how the story continues!