#my very first idea about him was a little different

[creatingblackcharacters]

“The Ambiguously Brown Character™”- The Attachment to Eurocentric Beauty Standards

“maybe im petty but i wish people knew how to draw like different nose shapes. Sometimes I’ll see a character I like but im like that is not what their nose would look like.” @the-eldritch-it-gay

You’ve seen them before. The one character that has brown skin… And everything else about them is… an enigma. They’re not supposed to be white! You know that much… right? You can see what the designated white characters look like, so at least it’s not that. You could claim them as Black, if you want, and sometimes creators even demand that this character is Black. Depending on the quality, you’re either like “no, what the fuck is this” or you’re like “okay they’re cool, we’ll take them”. Representation is important. But… There’s a pit in your stomach that wonders… Are they really? Are they really supposed to be Black, is this really representation, or did the creators just toss a brown person in so all the Brown™ people could “have something”, so that they would look like they cared about “diversity” on their art resume?

Examples

Theseus, in my opinion, looks like a white man with a tan. Dionysus looks a little better with the similar skin tone, due to his purple hair coloration. Apparently people do think that at least Dionysus is a man of color. What’s interesting about both of these characters, is that they’re only about two desaturated browns lighter than Patroclus, a character in the game that we’re supposed to believe is Black (whom, in my opinion, also looks like a brown bucket tool character. I’m still claiming him, he’s my guy. But his design should have been more explicitly Black). Theseus and Patroclus are the two darkest-skinned dead humans in the first game. So… what was I supposed to think about these two? Was I supposed to think they are really dark white people, due to the thin textures of their hair? Are they men of color? Are Theseus and Patroclus supposed to be ashy because they’re dead, is Dionysus ashy because he’s dehydrated from wine? Why don’t the white dead people look off color? Hades was entirely too striking a game in use of color for the browns to look like… this.

Noe and Hibana are interesting. It was complete coincidence, the purple hair and eyes thing btw. Hibana is interesting because Ogun is an unambiguously Black character in Fire Force, and there are at least three other unambiguously Black characters in Soul Eater as well. So we know the mangaka knows how to draw Black people in their style! So… was this on purpose? Is this another of those ‘tanned anime girls with titties’ meant for shounen fan service? I’ve claimed Noe (Case Study of Vanitas) because Black French people exist and France has stolen so much from us already, but it is never actually specified what Noe is. He’s just the One Singular Brown Guy in this show, with regular, untextured anime hair. Are there more brown people in the manga? Is this explained? Because we know who is supposed to be white! If anyone else wants to claim Noe, they absolutely can, because we have no idea what he’s supposed to be. Hot Chocolate thinks he’s Indian, and I’m not going to argue that because… who knows! He very well could be!

My very first lesson addressed this, albeit lightly! There’s a reason that I said that if you gained nothing else from me, that’s what I want you to walk away with. Now that I’m on stronger footing with this blog, I can really get into the nitty gritty of what that really means.

Obligatory disclaimer: we are not a monolith!* As of 2015, it has been researched that African populations have the highest genetic variation on Earth*, with a lot of that genetic diversity in sub-Saharan Africa alone. This means that YES, there very well can and will be Black people with naturally thinner textures of hair, blonde, light brown, and red hair, straight, narrow noses, monotone lips, and lighter skin that comes more often with white people. There are enough genetic combinations within African peoples and of the African diaspora that I’m sure there are plenty of people that look the way people seem to want Black people in art to look, if those genes so express within them.

*as a scientist, I will say: while these papers seem fairly legit and I looked at many related articles and their sources, take Nature with a grain of salt. Though their vetting process has become much better, you can and should always do further reading on your own!

Here’s the thing: the possibility is not the issue here!

The first issue: I don’t have to teach anyone how to draw those features on Black people! It is evident, from the professional and fan art I’ve seen, y’all already know how to draw the features deemed highly by Eurocentric beauty standards. Those features are excessively focused on and promoted as part of “good art”.

The second issue here is that the average artist drawing a poorly done Black person is not considering things like genetic diversity when they draw them (and if they are, it’s usually as an excuse post-confrontation. Yes, I have seen it.) These creators are not designing these characters with the intent of them being Black with those features, they are designing “Black” people with features that they deem most aesthetic and are most comfortable with drawing.

And why do they deem those features most aesthetic? We’ve circled back to the point of this lesson!

Eurocentric Beauty Standards

Definition: beauty standards as defined through a white, western cultural lens, including but not limited to: straight, blonde hair, light eyes, pale skin, high cheekbones, narrow noses, thinness. It’s a way that white western people want other white western people to look to be considered classically attractive… and then enforced that on everyone else.

It affects people of color worldwide. Anyone that has ever had to deal with European colonization or imperialism has to deal with the interjection of Eurocentric beauty standards.

Examples

-Black women, standing at the intersection of Blackness and womanhood, especially deal with the constant pressure of Eurocentric beauty standards, being consistently told to hate ourselves due to our own ethnic features. It’s incredibly damaging to your self-esteem growing up; my mom told me that until I went natural at 17, I was determined to look ‘like a white girl’ because I thought it would make me beautiful, and it hurt her. And as for me, it was a stunning realization that at 17 that I had never really seen my own natural curl pattern before. My hair was in ponytails and such as a child, but as a teenager, growing into my identity, I had always wanted straight hair. I was in love with my coily texture, I couldn’t believe that I’d never seen it. An entire part of my own body, gone unknown, because I wanted to fit a beauty standard I would never reach.

-Kenneth and Mamie Clark: The “Doll” Studies: Black children- age 3-7 were shown white and Black doll babies, and were asked a series of ‘positive’ and ‘negative’ identification questions. Even by that young an age, most of the Black children associated things like beauty, kindness, and positivity… with the white dolls.

-“The Golden Ratio”: a survey was done in Britain (oh boy, here we go) to determine what people felt was the ‘most beautiful’ face, and apparently it all came down to “symmetry”. “International blueprints of beauty” they claimed, were applied, as humans “naturally seek symmetry”. In 2015, according to ye olde Daily Mail, this was the most beautiful woman. You'll never guess:

(It’s not even her natural hair color!)

-Another “research study” using E-FIT (Electronic Facial Identification Technique -- a facial recognition software used to create criminal profiles based on eyewitness descriptions; no WAY that THAT could get problematic!!) to determine what 100 people thought was the “most archetypal face of beauty”.

They came up with a figure similar to Kendall Jenner as the female option.

(Guys, we’re never getting out of here at this rate.)

-We’ve spoken about discrimination against Black hair before, and how natural hairstyles will be deemed less professional or appropriate for school, regardless of the brilliant mind that sits underneath it, and even the history of Black women having to cover their hair so as to “not steal the desire of white men” and ruin the status of white women.

Appropriation:

I try to have nuance on the Kardashians, but I have never liked Kylie, and it’s not because she’s not allowed to do what she wants with her body. I watched the world claim that she was so beautiful, that her kits were why her lips looked “so good”. Everyone wanted to have “full, plump lips” like the ones Kylie BOUGHT. But Black women’s full lips have been treated horrifically since racism was invented. In 2016 I watched racists dogpile and mock Ugandan model Aamito Lagum for her naturally full lips in her MAC campaign, after saying in just 2015 that Kylie’s lips were “top fashion and everyone wants them”. And she lied (not that we didn’t all know that)! She appropriated a look, and she lied about it to move product. And people who had no right to forgive her did so, and everyone moved on to make her a billionaire. Because full lips looked good… as long as they weren’t on a Black woman. I can’t even have my own lips, but she was rewarded with an industry for appropriation. No, I’m not getting over that.

I could go on, but I won’t. So what are some ways to address the existence of Eurocentric beauty standards potentially biasing our creation?

First thing: LET’S TRASH THE IDEA THAT BROWN SKIN AUTOMATICALLY MEANS BLACK.

Black people are not stupid, and we do have expectations. Splashing brown paint on your otherwise white character does not mean I’ll automatically think they’re Black. I’m going to look. When I see brown people in real life, I can usually tell when they don’t look like me. I don’t look at a South Asian similar to or darker than my shade and say “they’re Black”. Blackness is not just skin color, it’s an entire identity and sociological construct. Yes, you can tell us apart.

Acknowledge when you’re holding a bias:

For example: “Tall, dark, and handsome.” What did you picture? You must understand that different people had different ideas of what this meant, versus who it was actually meant to be. Because on its surface, that description includes tall Black men with dark brown eyes and dark hair! We’ve talked about this in lesson 3! Whoever came up with this phrase didn’t mean skin though, they meant hair and eyes- they meant white brunettes. Even in this, it was only meant to include whiteness. And we were all supposed to assume that, be damned anything else.

Part of that is knowing what things do and don’t fall under the category. They were listed off earlier: straight and wavy hair, blonde hair, colorful eyes, thin noses, high cheekbones, double eyelid with round eyes that “show youth and innocence”. People have been going the “aquiline nose” route lately to claim more diversity in nose shape but like… even that isn’t always going to be the case. Every Black person is not going to have an aquiline nose. It is not the “middle ground” of diversity. Draw us with some round noses. We look fine.

Often ignored (in depictions of Black people): afro/coily hair and natural styles, large, round noses, full faces, brown eyes, full figures that aren’t oversexualized, body fat. One of the characters from Craig of the Creek that makes me so happy is Nicole, Craig’s mother. When I look at her design, I see my own mother. I see a Black woman that… actually looks like Black mothers I know. It made me happy and comfortable.

White folk, you even do it to yourselves! I mentioned to a friend once that a good chunk of stories in our fandom with the blonde/brunette white character dynamic read like an Aryan fantasy: the blonde character will be treated like a god on high, the most beautiful of humanity, and then you’ll get to the brunette and it’s “my meek, mousy brown hair, my dull, brown eyes like dirt, and my tanned skin with freckles; no one would ever notice someone plain, nerdy, and unimportant like me until him” lmao like excuse me? Author, you okay there pal? Do you need a hug, lmao? I can’t take it seriously anymore. If y'all are being this mean to each OTHER about not hitting Eurocentric beauty standards, y'all are certainly not being nice or respectful about people of color- who never can- in your content! (and no, exoticizing Blackness is not respectful.) You should look out for how often this happens, and catch yourself when you’re doing it.

Creating with Intent (and the lack thereof!)

(This is so important I made the header larger)

You have to actually consider and reference REAL Black people when you’re drawing Black people. That seems like such an obvious thing, and yet it must not be, because these sorts of arts/the techniques used in them still happen.

For example:

credit to my friend @devilatelier; I asked for the worst Black art ever and he heeded the call!

I abhor art like this, and art that does varying versions of this. To the pit of my soul, hatred. I will not share your work if I catch even a whiff of it. Why? Because people know that this isn’t what we look like! If you get on the computer and type in “Black man with short hair”, option A is not even remotely on the first page. You’ll get nonblack men that show up, thanks to Google’s algorithm (another conversation), but the Black men don’t look like A. If you get on the computer and type “Black man with long hair”, you’ll even get Black men with all textures and styles of hair, including straight! And they still don’t look like B. Go ahead, I’ll pause- go type it in and see what you get. Have you ever seen a Black person that looks like these images? Be honest with yourself. Why do you let them slide, if you haven’t?

Why This Matters

So it’s not about the actual Black people in their lives that they’ve seen, that makes artists draw characters like this, nor a dedication to accuracy. Because if you were looking at us at all, you wouldn’t draw this. And yet, people draw it, and post it proudly. So there must not be any shame behind it, or they at least are comfortable enough with their target audience to think it’s presentable! That begs the question- who is your target audience, and do you include Black people in it?

It’s how people like Jen Zee can have a successful career at Supergiant despite drawing dark skinned people the way she does. It’s because studios recognize when their target audiences are not perturbed by, and therefore will still buy, their product. If poorly drawn Black people does not perturb audiences enough to affect the almighty dollar- or, in fanart situations, the value of popularity- then there’s no motivation to stop doing it! Who cares about the value and the demeaning of Black fans, right?

Think about it like this. You remember how everyone bullied the Sonic studio and they scrapped their entire reel? People do not get that much up in arms in solidarity about the antiblack treatment and depiction of Black characters. It’s how you end up with Wyll Ravengard on the drop of BG3. Because Larian could have stood on business, had some integrity, and said “this is a character we are going to develop, because there will be fans that look like Wyll, and deserve to receive our best efforts at inclusion.”

But instead, Larian said “this is what our majority fanbase wants, and apparently it is not a well-developed Black character” and released that game as it was. To rousing success. That was a choice. The antiblackness of both the fans and the studio, via their lack of concern about Black gamers, was involved in making that decision. We have to let go of the idea that antiblack racism is incidental, and not a part of the process- and that includes in character design.

I cannot tell you how much it shrivels my heart inside when I see a “Black” character with wavy hair. One, because I know the artist’s first thought was not to have a Black character with wavy hair, but because they draw white people with that hair and thought it was transferrable. Two, because if you wanted the aesthetic of hair down to the back… Locs could have worked! The same shape would be there! You can style locs in any way, and it would be fine! Even if you wanted them to have thinner hair, fine, but… I can see where the intent (and the lack thereof) is. We can see when you aren’t even trying for us!

I asked Angel how he felt about creating the “white man with the brown bucket” images, curious about how he felt given that he is more than capable of drawing Black people. His response was noteworthy, and consistent with my hypothesis:

“Thinking about it, these two drawings have been the most difficult thing I’ve had to draw, period. And it’s the first time I’ve actually felt nauseous during the drawing process from start to finish. I constantly felt like I was fighting off the part of myself that knew better, telling me that this is wrong. It felt like a betrayal, knowing what Black people actually look like and still choosing to be disrespectful. Especially because I worked on the first two and immersed myself in references and also Black youtubers, researching Black hairstyles. It felt like a betrayal to all of that to call these two (deliberately poorly drawn) characters Black, because they’re not. None of the Black people I found during my research (both photo references and videos) looked like these. at all. It felt cheap, it felt lazy. Creatively lazy in the way that you just take a white person and paint-bucket them brown and call it a day. In the way it makes you feel no pull to change what you do, or learn something new. Kinda like a thought terminating cliche. Unlike the first two, I used no references for them, but I mostly based them off of actual designs I’ve seen in fandoms, both fanmade and not.”

Conclusion

So what I want us to consider for now is: if we know that’s not what Black people look like, but so many people are willing to do and/or accept it without any mental dissonance… how much do they care? Why is this allowed to ‘pass’, if we recognize that it is not accurate, unless we think what we are being presented with is acceptable? Or at least, not worth fighting over? Why not? Why do you not think that this Black character deserves to be unambiguously Black? And why does that ‘better’ way to exist always come back to whiteness?

We’re going to get into this, as well as more into the other, more overt and equally harmful manifestation of these beliefs in the next lesson on Whitewashing! But I want you to simmer on this part, first.

When you draw a character that you want to be Black, not only should you keep in mind your intent of how you’re going to draw them, but it also means putting in the work to make sure you’re doing so. You do not put pen to paper and “accidentally” draw a white man lol, it came from somewhere- let’s shatter that connection that views white features as superior, as 'ideal for attention grabbing', so we can create better. Because remember, it is the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 A Lie Matter.

Spencer Reid x Prentiss!reader

Series masterlist | ONE | TWO | THREE |

Summary: All Spencer wanted was to have you back, but when it happens, it's the opposite of what he and you thought it would be.

Words: 3,6k.

TW: mentions of crime, trauma, death and pain (normal warnings in the series). so much spoilers for s6 and s7. the events narrated occur after emily's "death". so MUCH angst. read the dates carefully, especially the years, because there are some backward time frames that can confuse you if you don't pay attention!. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Okay, if I apologized for the first part, I have to get down on my knees for this one, because it is even more bitter (sorry Emily and Spencer, too).

I ask you to put yourselves in everyone's shoes and refrain from hateful comments. The process of writing this was emotionally challenging for me because I recognize that everyone has a valid point of view.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

December 5th, 2010

Your brow furrowed as you opened a new tab on your computer and watched it freeze for a few seconds. You were not very knowledgeable about technology and thought that perhaps a technical analyst could be of assistance. You were somewhat surprised when you suddenly felt a pair of warm arms around you from behind the sofa.

On the bright side, it wasn't all bad. At least not if you had him on your side.

“Hey.” You said, smiling slightly as you felt Spencer rest his head on your shoulder. “I thought you were reading.”

“Yeah, but you looked really focused and I wanted to know what you were doing.” He replied, carefully sitting down next to you on the couch, not wanting to invade your space. You looked at him with some amusement. “I'm just curious.”

He gazed at your computer screen, his heart aching a little as he noticed you were browsing a travel site, exploring different destinations and planning your budget. Had you decided to leave? He wondered why you hadn't told him sooner. Were you planning to leave him?

“Are you planning to leave?” He finally asked, after a few seconds of trying to decide whether to pursue the matter further. “Did something happen?”

The question he really wanted to ask, and feared to ask, was: Did I do something?

But no, Spencer wasn't going to self-destruct or assume things this time. He trusted you and he trusted that you would tell him if something was wrong because that was the kind of relationship the two of you had built.

“It's my mother's gift to me.” You replied quickly, as if to avoid the subject. “For my birthday.” You added as you noticed he looked confused.

“A trip?”

“Yes, when I was younger, I wanted to see the whole world and my mother promised that someday I would.” You began to explain, trying to avoid his gaze at first so as not to show too much vulnerability. Suddenly he took your hand in support. “Since I was fourteen, she's given me a trip every time...she doesn't know that I don't even have that dream anymore.”

“What is your dream now?” He asked with a genuine curiosity that made you feel small under his gaze.

You paused for a moment and smiled at him. “Is it too cheesy if I say it's you?”

“It's sweet.” Spencer couldn't help but blush a little and let out a laugh and then get a little more serious. “What's your dream?”

It was a new question, so you weren't quite sure how to answer. It was unusual because no one had ever asked you that before, or at least not with such a genuine interest in your answer.

“Other than you? I think just peace of mind. Maybe a family, a dog, and a nice house. The usual.” You rambled a bit, unsure. “To be honest, I've had the same dreams as my sister all my life. I've always copied them, even the FBI idea. But we already know that didn't work out so well for me.” You faked a laugh and pointed to your leg.

You expected him to laugh, the last thing you wanted was a look of pity or a deepening of your childhood problems. But you knew him well enough to know that he wasn't the kind of person to let things go, he literally couldn't forget them.

“Don't feel sorry for me, please.” You said as you noticed how his caresses on your arm were getting softer and softer.

“It's not that. I just don't like it when you treat yourself badly.” He explained calmly. “You were good at the FBI anyway. You're good at everything.”

You let out a bitter little laugh. “I was only 'good' because my sister taught me how to fight. And without being able to do that, I'm no good.” You pointed with a smile on your face, not wanting to worry him. “But it's okay, you have the brains.”

“And you're smart, funny, pretty, and-” He started listing your attributes at a surprising pace, which made you stop him with a kiss.

He is deeply moved when he experiences the sensation of your lips on his. Your kisses always leave him feeling profoundly cherished. They are characterized by a gentle, soft, warm, and tender quality that makes him feel like he is the most precious thing in the world to you. It is enough to send an intoxicating wave of emotions through him, filling every inch of his body with warmth.

“Thank you.” You gave him a smile when your lips parted.

“I had a lot more to say.” He said, still a little flushed. He then tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, as if he wanted to see you better. “I could go on for days.”

You just smiled at him like you were head over heels, feeling like you could say 'I love you' right then and there.

But you didn't. Unfortunately, you were too afraid to do it that time.

March 29th, 2011

“Aren't you planning to eat?” Your sister asked you for the third time, taking a big sip of her coffee and looking at the croissant you still had untouched on your plate.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat and tried to cross your arms, but the wounds in your stomach still caused discomfort and you had to stifle a groan with a poor excuse. “I'm not hungry.”

Emily didn't say anything at first, just watched you, made you feel like just another criminal she was carefully profiling.

The two of you had been enjoying breakfast together at the table for several minutes without engaging in conversation. The dining room was peaceful, with only the sound of the clock on the wall to gently remind you that time was passing, whether you wanted it to or not.

And you really hoped the time would pass quickly so you could go home soon. But not fast enough for the people you loved to put you in the memory box that never opens.

“Can we have a normal conversation?” She asked, trying to break the awkward silence.

“I'm listening.” You finally make eye contact and stop looking out the window at the Eiffel Tower to look at her.

Then she gave that stern mother look, and you knew you were in trouble. “You have to eat. If you want, we can order something else.”

You didn't say anything, just looked at her tired face and sighed a little, feeling a twinge of guilt for not accepting her attempts to make the atmosphere more pleasant. You didn't know how to tell her that your frustration and pain went far beyond the physical, that it was something you felt in your heart and that no special food or doctor could fix. Everything was already taking its toll on you.

“I know this is tough, but please don't make it worse. I'm here for you.” She put her hand over yours and gave you a little squeeze, trying to show support. “We're in this together. You have me to lean on.”

You couldn't help but frown. Now she seemed so open with you, it was surprising to think of all the secrets she had kept from you before. There was literally a part of her life you didn't know about. She hid from you for years that she was on a covert mission, that she was babysitting someone else's child from afar, and that a terrorist was one of the ghosts that kept her on the defensive from everyone, including you. And none of that was the worst of it, because that place was occupied, because she didn't even seem to care how that affected you.

You had always been too much for everyone but Emily. She had always known how to carry your weight as if it were no obligation.

At least, that's the way it used to be.

“I know you miss Spencer. I do, too. But I promise you, he's fine.” She interrupted you when she noticed that your voice trailed off and your eyes glazed over, as if you were about to burst into tears just hearing his name. “He's safe.”

Mentioning him so suddenly was like walking through a minefield and hoping a bomb wouldn't go off.

“He thinks we're dead.” You said, feeling a chill run down your spine.

“And we both know why that is.”

“Yeah, but if...” You tried to start talking, but she quickly cut you off.

“Please don't start.” She abruptly put the cup she was holding in one hand down on the table and turned the other away from you. “We've been through this many times.”

Tick.

“But it's not fair.” You got up from your seat suddenly, feeling a couple of tears running down your cheeks and worry welling up in Emily. “It's going to be a month of this already.”

“We're not going back now. It's still dangerous for everyone.” She stood up behind you, trying to talk some sense into you. “We'll come back when it's time.”

Tock.

“And when will it be time? How much longer? You told me it would be a short time and now...” Your daily round of questions since you two had arrived there had begun once again.

“Please stop acting like a little girl.” Emily spoke up before she could think through her words.

Boom.

Oh, that was something your mother would say, not your sister. She would never judge you for being afraid and sentimental.

“Am I a little girl for wanting to know when we will have our lives back?” You asked after a few seconds to process her words. “I'm sorry, I don't have your mental strength to take it. I don't have a JJ to talk to and play online games with every time I drown in here. I don't have anyone but you, and I feel like you don't even trust me.”

The words had come out of your mouth without much thought, and you realized that they might have caused some distress when you saw her expression.

“I trust you, you're my little sister.” She came up to you slowly, trying to show you that what you said wasn't true. “I've known you since you were born. There's no one I trust and care about more.”

“And where was that confidence when you needed help?” The question came out of you automatically before you went to your room.

As soon as you laid your face on the pillow, you thought about how much you needed the people who were away at that moment, especially the one who was your voice of reason. You felt a certain longing for their presence.

September 21st, 2011

Spencer was frozen in place because you weren't there.

There was no trace of your presence in the room, and his heart threatened to burst with pain. His eyes were tired of desperately searching for you, and his mouth was tired of holding back questions about your whereabouts because the answer frightened him.

“I'm really sorry, but I've wanted to tell everyone the truth for a long time.” Emily said after several unexpected hugs and reunions. It was only then that her gaze fell on him. “Reid.”

“She is...?” His voice was cut off before he could finish his sentence. The mere possibility that his mind had been playing tricks on him all this time tore him apart.

“Alive.”

In that moment, all other concerns in his life receded into the background, including the intense discomfort in his hand. His world had once again come crashing down, and the pain he was experiencing seemed to lose its meaning in the midst of it all.

His heart seemed to start beating again after seven months of complete inactivity just by hearing that word. The few tears he had left moistened his eyes, momentarily blurring his vision and preventing him from seeing how everyone around him looked at him. Just one word kept going through his mind.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

You have been alive all this time.

“Where is she?” He asked instantly, anxious. He took another quick look around the room, but you weren't there. “Why isn't she here?”

Just from the apologetic look Emily gave him before she spoke, he knew something was wrong. “I haven't heard from her in almost two months.”

The sentence lingered in the air for a few seconds before it was processed. It was difficult to imagine that you would stay away from your sister for so long. That didn't seem like you.

“Why?” Penelope was so intrigued that she couldn't help but ask the question before anyone else in the room had a chance to. “Is she okay?”

The woman was clearly uneasy under the intense scrutiny of her colleagues, who kept glancing at her as if she were a ghost. “We had a disagreement, and she left. All I know is that she's here somewhere in the city trying to protect all of you.”

As it turned out, Spencer wasn't crazy. He really did see you on the street. It really was you all this time.

“I know this is a bad time, but I was hoping you could help me find her because I really don't know...” Emily tried to speak again, her voice cracking.

At that moment, JJ gently put a hand on her shoulder and approached the group, having spent several minutes in contemplative silence. “We've located her.” She noted respectfully, giving Reid a look that conveyed guilt and regret for what was happening. “And she is here.”

All eyes were riveted to the door of the room at that moment, waiting for you to be there to resolve some doubts and heal other pains. The hearts seemed to explode with the expectation of a new confrontation, of you being part of the miracle.

Because it was a miracle that you and Emily were alive, right?

“Hello.” Your voice echoed in the room and made everything fade away.

The mere sound of your voice, after months of hearing it only through old videos and voice memos, had Spencer leaning on the table with one hand and the other on his heart, trying to keep it from falling out of his chest.

God, you were there. Really there.

It was you again. Unmistakably you.

April 10th, 2011

“Hello?”

The telephone, which had been in your possession, suddenly became detached from your grasp and hung precariously close to the ground. You were overcome with a sudden rush of emotion, your body trembled, your breathing ceased, and your eyes brimmed with tears as you heard your boyfriend's voice.

“Hello? Who is this?” You listened as Spencer repeated when you had the strength to pick up the phone again and put it to your ear. “Hello?”

It's me, I love you, I'm sorry.

That's all you had to tell him, because it was the truth, even though he might not like it and it might ruin his day to find out about your charade. He had a right to know. Especially since he was the best thing in your life and you were the worst thing, causing him so much pain. You shouldn't have to be a psychic to know that he was suffering.

All those candid conversations you had with him about the challenges of losing loved ones were truly impactful. In a way, you were now one of the people he'd lost.

“What are you doing? Who are you talking to?” Emily's voice startled you, so you quickly hung up the phone, trying not to look suspicious. But she knew you too well to deceive her. “Please tell me you didn't do what I think you did.”

You didn't say a word, and that was enough.

“Please.”

“I was just thinking about what if. I didn't do anything, I didn't call anyone.” You raised your hands in innocence and walked away from the phone calmly because you knew you had already hung up. “I'm not a fool.”

That's nonsense. You were a fool for love and always have been.

Perhaps you loved too much, or perhaps you didn't love at all and just enjoyed the feeling of being loved. Your negative thoughts were causing you to doubt the reality of your experiences with Spencer. He seemed too good to be true, and you sought reassurance in his voice to confirm that you weren't losing touch with reality. The idea of trying to explain this to your sister made you feel self-conscious and a bit foolish.

“Okay.” She said in a calm tone, even though he didn't believe a word of it. She took you by the arm gently and spoke again. “I've found a store you'll like.”

You simply nodded and followed her because you felt it was important to avoid making it all about you.

September 21st, 2011

The person you had been waiting months to see had left the room upon seeing you, as if you were some kind of plague threatening to kill him. You felt a sense of loss, as if your heart had died in that instant, while you received the deep embrace of your older sister and the occasional dismayed look from the people who used to know you.

“You should go talk to him.” Emily said, her voice conveying concern and empathy, which caught you off guard. Her hand was still on your lower back, and it felt comforting.

You were at a loss for words, so you simply nodded and left the room to find him.

It was quite remarkable how you were able to locate his troubled figure so quickly after stepping out into the hallway. It seemed as if your intuition had guided you directly to where he was. You felt a pang of guilt as you noticed Spencer standing in front of the large wall with pictures of those killed in action, looking specifically at the lower portion where your picture was next to Emily's. It seemed somewhat incongruous that you were there, given that you no longer officially worked for the FBI and your death hadn't been in the field. However, you assumed someone had pulled strings to put you next to your sister.

“Spencer.” His name came out of your mouth slowly and painfully after you had avoided saying it for seven months. Your arms wrapped around him before you had a chance to think about what you were doing. You just wanted to feel him close and be reassured that he was real. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”

He remained silent and still, seemingly unaware of your presence, as you clung to his body like a life preserver in the midst of a storm.

God, you needed him so much.

Just when you thought maybe he hadn't heard you because he hadn't even flinched at your voice, he turned away from you and spoke. “I've been looking at these pictures every day for seven months now, every time I pass by or get a chance to come by. I'm trying to convince myself that you were dead, really dead, and that I'm not freaking out already.” His tone was as cold and sharp as a knife edge. “And now you're here.”

As soon as you became aware of the absence of its presence, you felt a bit disoriented. You took a few seconds to regain your composure before you looked at your picture with a hint of disappointment and considered removing it from the wall, but you realized it was firmly attached and it might not be the most constructive approach. Removing it wouldn't address the underlying issue.

“I'm sorry, it wasn't my...just try to understand me.” You could only stammer at that moment, unable to excuse yourself.

“I can't do it. I understand Emily's motives a little better. She wanted to protect you, us, and herself. But you...” He paused, as if the words weighed so heavily that he needed to take a breath before saying them. “You knew when I was afraid of going really crazy, and yet you let me think I was losing my mind.”

His words had a profound impact, evoking a growing sense of emotional distress. You felt a deep sense of regret for causing pain to someone who had done nothing to deserve it.

“I know I hurt you, but I didn't mean to. I swear.” You spoke to him with a trembling voice, trying to control your need to walk up to him and take his hand in the same loving way as before. “I know you suffered, I did too, and I thought of you every day I was gone.”

He let out a short, frustrated sound and paced the room a few times before meeting your eyes again. You didn't need to take into account what the FBI had taught you about human behavior, because he went way beyond that and none of it was likely to help you now. You had gotten to know Spencer very well and had never seen him as upset as he was now. No manual could help you know what to do.

“I bet you thought about me and felt bad, right? But you know what the difference between us is?” His tone was harsh, but his gaze seemed so fragile it hurt you. “You woke up every day to an empty bed, and I woke up next to a grave. It could never be the same.”

Your lips were sealed because you knew he was absolutely right and nothing you could say would change that.

“Please, Spencer, wait.” You followed him down the hallway before he could leave and saw him stop to look at you doubtfully. You never before imagined that the one who used to watch you with such expectation and love was going to watch you as if you were a phony. “I love you.”

He frowned and lifted his shoulders. “It's too late for that.”

It is possible that it was.

Tag List ♥︎ : @rosieinvienna @florencespirit @jiuseoks @rinsie @guiltyyassin

If you'd like to be included in the tag list, please leave a comment here or in one of the other parts of the series, and I'll add you. It's the same if you want to be removed, just let me know.

[armiliadawn]

A Taste of Strawberry

Word count: 2200

Synopsis: After a long day marked by a confrontation with the Marines, you attend the debriefing in the navigation room with Kid and his commanders. You didn’t expect a simple strawberry to become the object of a silent game between you and your captain, where every glance and every word seems charged with a tension you can’t ignore. Between subtle provocations and measured gestures, this seemingly mundane moment suddenly takes a troubling turn.

Tags: KidxF!Reader, very very light NSFW, reader gets caught in their own game.

Notes: I've been working on the translation of this text for a while. But Jintaka's little gift gave me the boost I needed to finish it. @jintaka-hane This text is for you. I hope you’ll like it. 🫶 English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Tag list : @jintaka-hane @novemberhope @imveryyellow @pandora-writes-one-piece

The day's debrief seemed long, almost endless, and the atmosphere in the navigation room was thick with palpable fatigue. The orange glow of the setting sun filtered through the portholes, casting dancing shadows on the table cluttered with maps and reports. Kid, Killer, Heat, and Wire sat around you, exchanging practical details about the day's events.

You had crossed paths with a Marine ship, and even though the fight had been brief, it left everyone exhausted. Tense muscles, sore bodies, and the aftermath of the adrenaline rush left a heavy sense of weariness. Kid, though still brimming with energy, showed signs of irritation, his movements sometimes abrupt, as if he found this discussion as boring as it was necessary. You were seated at one end of the table, listening half-heartedly. Your own body reminded you of the effort you had put into the battle, every muscle aching, every thought slightly foggy.

Your attention easily drifted from the conversation, latching onto insignificant details: the sound of the waves against the ship’s hull, the soft glow from the hanging lamps, and most of all, the plate of strawberries in the middle of the table. It had been there since Killer had brought it earlier, a sweet comfort after a difficult day. Most of the fruit was already gone. Only a handful of strawberries remained, their vibrant red shining under the light of the lamps.

Kid kept glancing at them between sentences, as if, despite the ongoing discussions, a part of him was irresistibly drawn to those fruits. You knew he loved them, and every time his gaze fell on the plate, you couldn’t help but smile inwardly. There was something almost childlike in his fascination with strawberries, a rare softness hidden beneath his fierce, pirate appearance.

But tonight, the atmosphere felt different. The fatigue hung in the air, yes, but there was something else. A subtler tension. Kid was unusually quiet, more focused on his own thoughts than the conversation at hand, and every time your eyes met his, a strange shiver ran down your spine. His overwhelming presence filled the room, as always, but in this moment, it felt even more intense, heavier. There was something in the air, a charged energy that you couldn’t ignore, something that kept you on edge.

The exchange of words continued, but you felt strangely detached. Kid's gaze haunted you, even when he wasn’t looking directly at you. It was a feeling you had often experienced—this sense of being under his influence without him saying a word. You never knew if it was irritation he felt toward you, or something else… something more unsettling. Tonight, you couldn’t help but wonder: was it attraction? You had never allowed yourself to think about it seriously before, but the idea crept into your mind, more persistent with each passing minute.

The debrief finally came to an end. Wire was the first to rise, stretching long before turning to Heat and Killer.

“We’ve still got a few things to check on the deck,” Wire said, his voice breaking the sudden silence that had settled in.

Killer nodded quietly, casting a brief but meaningful glance at Kid, as if he understood something that you didn’t. The three pirates left the room, leaving you alone with the captain. The sound of their footsteps slowly faded, leaving behind only the gentle rumble of the waves against the ship and an oppressive silence.

You immediately felt the weight of Kid's gaze on you. The silence, far from easing the atmosphere, only seemed to make it heavier. There was always something palpable between you two, a tension you had never been able to fully define. Was it irritation? Or something deeper, something more intimate? Whatever it was, tonight, that feeling was magnified, invading every fiber of your being.

On the table, there was only one strawberry left. Kid eyed it with a possessive look, as if he coveted it as much as a rare treasure. The intense red of the fruit echoed the fiery color of his hair. His fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the table, and in an instant, you understood that he wanted it for himself.

Without thinking, and faster than you realized, you reached out and grabbed the strawberry right under his nose.

“I was going to take that,” he growled, his eyes narrowing slightly, a predatory gleam in his gaze.

An amused smile tugged at your lips. You had always enjoyed provoking him, even though, in moments like these, you knew you were playing with fire.

“Well then, come and get it,” you replied mischievously.

Without hesitation, you placed the strawberry between your teeth, lips slightly parted, a sly grin on your face. The challenge was set, and you knew it. Kid’s gaze darkened, a wild glint flickering in his golden eyes. He was not the type to ignore a provocation, especially one coming from you.

He stood up slowly, towering over you, his presence filling the room with an almost stifling heat. Every movement he made was deliberate, like a predator who knew he already had control over his prey. His gaze, intense, enveloped you entirely, pinning you in place. Even though you had started this game, in that moment, you realized he already controlled every move, every breath, and even your own will. You had lit the fuse, and now you would have to face the consequences.

Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that it felt like each beat echoed in the air between you. Kid was approaching, slowly, his eyes locked on your lips, fixated on the strawberry with undisguised hunger. The air grew denser, charged with an electric tension that was almost tangible. You felt both nervous and drawn to the magnetic force he exuded. Your body betrayed you, every fiber pulling toward him, as if you had already lost this game before it even began. He leaned in closer, placing his hands on either side of the chair where you sat. There was no escape now, even if you wanted to.

Kid moved his face closer to yours, his lips just inches away, and you didn’t move. The closeness between you became unbearable, but you couldn’t look away or pull back. His breath, warm and invasive, brushed against your lips, sending shivers down your spine. Your teeth sank lightly into the tender, pink flesh of the strawberry, letting a drop of sweet juice trickle down your lower lip.

Kid was taking his time, his eyes slowly drifting down to your mouth before rising again to meet your gaze. Every fiber of your body tensed under his fiery stare, your heart beating at an unreasonable pace. A predatory smile spread across his lips, a mix of challenge and desire. His hand lifted, brushing against your cheek before sliding along your jawline, sending a wave of shivers down your neck. That simple touch ignited a fire inside you, consuming you from within. You found yourself trembling under his touch, light as it was.

His fingers traced the line of your jaw until they reached your mouth, where the strawberry still rested, like an invitation. The tip of his finger grazed the red flesh of the fruit, then lightly brushed your lips with a nearly painful delicacy. You felt your breath quicken, your body instinctively reacting to this barely-there but incredibly sensual touch. Every inch of your skin felt like it was on fire, yet you couldn’t look away, captivated by his nearness, by his absolute control over the situation. Kid leaned in, moving slower than necessary, his movements calculated to stretch out your anticipation. He seemed to savor each moment, every second where you held your breath, trapped in this silent dance.

“You really thought you could steal it from me like that?” he whispered, his rough voice vibrating between the two of you, making you shudder from head to toe.

Without waiting for a reply, Kid leaned even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours. Only a few millimeters separated you, and with each passing second, the tension between you became almost unbearable. His warm breath slid over your skin, and you felt a heat gather in your belly, a primal desire you could no longer ignore.

His eyes never left yours, anchoring you to this moment, daring you to move or pull away. But you didn’t want to. Your whole body was drawn to him, like an irresistible magnetic force. Finally, Kid’s gaze dropped to the strawberry, and with excruciating slowness, he gently took the fruit between his teeth, biting half of it. His lips brushed against yours in a barely perceptible touch, but it was enough to send a violent electric shock down your spine.

The sweet taste of the strawberry mixed with the sharp heat of his lips, and you felt your body instinctively respond, arching slightly toward him. The sensation of his mouth against yours, brief as it was, left a burning imprint on your skin. He pulled back just a little, his eyes still locked on yours, an arrogant smile playing on his lips. He was savoring not only the strawberry but also the obvious turmoil he had stirred within you.

“So, is that all you’ve got?” he whispered in a low, rough voice, his lips still dangerously close to yours, like a silent invitation to continue this game.

You could still feel the rest of the strawberry between your teeth, but in that moment, all you could perceive was him—his warmth, his breath, and the overwhelming desire that had taken hold of you. Your heart was beating frantically, every fiber of your being drawn toward him. Kid was no longer just your opponent in this game of provocation; he was the only thing that mattered in this frozen moment in time. You felt both trapped and strangely exhilarated, as if this game had only pulled you deeper into a labyrinth where he was the master.

And just as his warm breath grazed your skin once more and you were about to answer his call, everything suddenly shifted.

“Hey, are you seriously sleeping during the debrief?”

Heat’s voice rang out, abrupt and unexpected, yanking you violently out of that intense moment. You jolted awake, still disoriented by the nearness of Kid’s lips, the sweet taste of the strawberry… except you were still sitting at the table, your head resting heavily in your hand, and Kid wasn’t leaning toward you. In fact, he was sitting in his seat across from you, giving you a curious look, just like Killer and Wire. Your heart was still racing, and the warmth in your body hadn’t subsided. It took you a few seconds to realize that it had all been just a dream. A dream that was way too realistic… and way too compromising.

Your face flushed violently. You blinked, trying to regain your composure, but it was impossible. Embarrassment washed over you. The memory of Kid, so close, of what he had whispered to you, of that almost tangible brush of his lips against yours… it all still felt way too real.

Heat was staring at you, a smirk tugging at his lips, his expression slightly teasing. He leaned toward you, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Seriously, you just fell asleep right here, during the meeting. Were we that boring?”

Killer, with his usual calm, raised an eyebrow behind his mask, while Wire barely concealed his grin. And Kid... Kid was looking at you with that same unreadable expression, his arms crossed, but you could sense the curiosity in his gaze. Had he guessed something? The mere thought made you blush even more, if that was even possible. You didn’t dare look at him directly.

“I… I’m sorry, I…” you muttered, unable to come up with a valid excuse. The heat in your face only seemed to increase.

Your eyes briefly glanced at the table, and to your horror, you noticed that there was still one strawberry left in the dish. Exactly like in your dream. The parallel was too unsettling, and you felt panic rising within you. If any of them made even one comment about the strawberries, you would literally sink under the table.

“It was a long day. You should go get some rest,” Killer finally said, breaking the tension in a neutral tone.

You nodded frantically, seizing this escape route with all the urgency in the world.

“Yes, I… I’ll do that. Good night.”

You stood up so quickly that you almost knocked over your chair. The four pirates watched you leave, and you could feel their eyes on you, burning into your back as you walked away. You didn’t even dare to steal a final glance at Kid, afraid of meeting his gaze—or worse, seeing any hint of understanding in his eyes.

Once outside the room, you leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath, your face still on fire. Your heart was still pounding wildly. Was it really possible to dream something so embarrassing, right in the middle of a debriefing meeting, and in front of him, no less?

You shook your head, hurrying toward your quarters. You’d probably need a good night’s sleep to forget that dream. But even as you slipped under your sheets, you knew that the burning memory of Kid, the strawberry, and the provocation that followed would haunt you for a while yet.

[whatswrongwithblue]

The Hunt Pt. 3

Read on AO3.

Part 1. Part 2.

Summary: Alastor x Reader (reader is afab, uses she/her pronouns.) Date nights in Hell are done a little differently, especially when you're dating The Radio Demon.

Trigger warnings: Reader and Alastor in Hell for a reason. Mentions of sexual abuse and child abuse. Murder. Horror. Explicit scenes of cannibalism.

“I don’t like this new guy.”

Angel Dust huffed and sat down on the sofa, planting himself firmly between you and Alastor. You scooted over, allowing for more space between you two but Angel just shifted closer, apparently not knowing how to read body language. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Alastor’s smile widen and strain, but his eyes quickly darted back to his newspaper.

You rolled your eyes, knowing when it came to the hotel guests, Alastor forced himself to be on his best behavior, less they tattle to Charlie. And Angel was really no threat, neither to your safety or to the sanctity of the unusual relationship between you and Alastor. He just had no sense of personal space.

“You like this new guy?” Angel asked, peering over your shoulder to look at your book. As if he read.

When you didn’t answer, he leaned back into the sofa, crossing one of his set of arms and his legs.

“Well I don’t like him,” he repeated.

“You didn’t like Sir Pentious, either,” you countered with a disinterested tone of voice as you turned a page in your book.

“Yeeaaaaah, and I was right about him, wasn’t I? At least at first. I doubt this new guy is gonna turn out the same.”

“Sir Pentious still wasn’t exactly what I would define as a threat,” Alastor said, still not looking up from his newspaper. “But it did allow for at least a fraction of entertainment around this drab place . . . for a little while, that is.” He sighed as he trailed off, sounding disappointed.

“Well I don’t like him. My gut tells me he’s a big fat liar.”

You finally sat your book in your lap and gave Angel your full attention.

“He said his sin was pretty much drugs and sex. That doesn’t add up? Not to . . . you?” you asked rather pointedly.

Angel, in his usual unashamed manner, wasn’t offended by your insinuation. “It would check out if it was believable. But this guy, he’s fucking sleezy. A total creeper. I may like my dick and my coke but I’m not like . . . like . . . . evil about it, okay? I give off slut vibes. He gives off like rape-y pedo vibes.”

At this point, Alastor folded his newspaper neatly in his lap over his crossed legs and began tapping on the microphone top of his cane, looking between you and Angel Dust.

“Well this is all rather interesting. You mean to tell me, your spidey senses are tingly?” Alastor asked, smiling his trademark sinister smile and waving his fingers through the air.

You chuckled a little, making a mental note to ask when Alastor had learned about Spider Man.

“If only there were a way for us to learn the truth about our new resident, hmmmm?” Alastor said, eyeing you up and down. “A way to find out what his sins in life really were?”

You met Alastor’s stare, a silent understanding floating between the two of you.

Angel Dust, totally unaware of the sudden tension in the air, stood up with an exaggerated sigh.

“Yeah,” he snorted, “if only.”

___

Unfortunately for Charlie, Angel had been correct.

Fortunately for you and Alastor, you now had a new fun idea for your next date night.

One touch was all it took. One touch was all it ever took.

You weren’t exactly a psychic. You couldn’t read minds. But a handshake, or a pat on the back, a brush of an arm on a busy sidewalk, even with a full layer of clothes on, could give you a sense of the things a Sinner had done in life that got them to Hell. It was a very unique power as you had never met someone else in Hell that wielded anything like it, but until Alastor had found you, you had thought it was pretty useless. Just another thing to overwhelm your senses and make you want to avoid people.

But Alastor had shown you the beauty of it. Had expanded upon the bloody urge for vengeance that had landed you in Hell yourself and taught you how to relish in it. He adored you for your passionate need to punish the worst of Hell’s residents and as a bonus, the flashes of violence and carnage you received from Alastor’s past never bothered you. His demographic of victims matched yours perfectly.  

That morning, you had placed yourself in the kitchen at just the right time for the new resident, your new prey, to come waltzing in for his morning coffee. Your fingers had brushed each other’s as you handed him a full mug and you had been left forcing a smile as you tried not to lose your breakfast over the images that flashed through your head.

His whole life. He had been a wretched monster his whole life. First his sisters, then a few girlfriends, then his wife and own children.

He was a predator of innocence. A destroyer of sanctity and lives.

The other residents at the hotel may have their problems, but this man was evil incarnate. And you suddenly understood his fascination with Charlie.

Well, this vile creature was about to find himself on the menu for yours and Alastor’s next candle lit dinner.

____

You had to wait until Charlie and Vaggie had a rare night out together. Alastor and you had agreed it best not to let Charlie know what happened to her new project resident; best to let her think he just skipped out on her redemption program and ghosted her.

Once you told the other residents the truth about your powers and their new roommate, they were all pretty much on board with helping. Especially Niffty. And even Lucifer was fine with it. He still wasn’t keen on most Sinners and agreed that it was ultimately in Charlie’s best interest if this particular demon just . . . disappeared. He made it clear he wanted nothing to do with it though and would be up in his apple shaped tower, seeing and hearing no evil that may occur that evening.

As evening came to Pentagram City and the bright red sky of day turned to the black-red, starless sky of night, the residents of the hotel found themselves in their places, like player pieces on a game board.

Husker at his bar, Angel and Cherri in the lounge, Niffty seemingly vacuuming a hallway, Lucifer ignoring everything up in his room, you down in the kitchen, and Alastor placed a few doors down from your prey’s room.

The stage was set and it was time to play.

____

A scream tore through the hotel.

The prey sat up in bed, heart pounding, breath coming in rapid gulps, hoping it was just a nightmare. This place was supposed to be a sanctuary. He didn’t intend on any kind of redemption, but the stupid antics of the place were worth the safety from the harsh streets of Hell.

Another scream rang through the night and the prey knew it hadn’t come from his dreams.

He thought about staying in bed and keeping the lights off but what if the screaming came closer? What if Heaven had sent someone down here to deal with the hotel once and for all? Then he had better make his escape while he could, right?

Quietly, and in the dark of his room, the prey tip toed over to his door and slowly opened it, wincing when it made a little creaking noise at the halfway point.

He peered down the hallway and it appeared empty. Completely ordinary. The lights were on, giving it a soft and comforting illumination. Everything appeared safe and sound.

Still on edge and suspicious, the prey stepped further into the hallway, clearing the threshold of the doorway.

His bedroom door slammed shut with a BANG behind him and he instantly turned around, trying with all his strength to turn the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. He began to slam his body into it, mad with fear, and he thought for a second the wood would actually give, when shadows began to spread from the doorframe like inky water.

He stepped away until his back hit the opposite wall, staring in horror as the shadows spread along the wall.

And then the lights began to flicker, the soft rhythmic sound of buzzing filling the air as the electricity fought for its life, before the lights burned out completely, leaving the prey bathed in darkness.

Another scream came from down the hallway, echoing around the walls and making his ears ring.

A wet, tearing sound.

Quiet.

And then . . .

thump thump slide

thump thump slide

thump thump slide

The lights began to flicker back on and in the little glimpses the flashing light allowed, the prey could see the outline of a now familiar deer demon, only much taller than usual. Alastor’s antlers were spread out in full glory, nearly touching both walls of the hallway as he went. His face was contorted into a monstrous grin that glowed like his radio dial red eyes, and he was covered in blood.

thump thump slide

thump thump slide

With every two steps Alastor took, he paused to drag the body behind him, leaving a crimson trail in his wake.

“Ah, hello there, my kindly fellow resident. Would you be interested in playing a game with me this evening? It seems I’m out of other options when it comes to . . .” he glanced down at the demon body he was still pulling alone behind him, “. . . participants.”

The prey swallowed and began taking small steps backwards.

“Hide and seek, doesn’t that sound fun? And the rules are very simple. You see, you hide, to the very best of your abilities. And I seek the second course to my dinner this evening.”

“I-I-I’m pretty tired, A-alastor. Mr. . . . Radio Demon. I think I’ll pass.”

“Oh! Hahaha! I see we’ve had a misunderstanding. My mistake. You see, I only asked you if you were interested. The participation, however, isn’t voluntary.”

The prey found his voice, sounding much bolder and braver than he felt.

“Charlie won’t let you get away with this.”

Alastor dropped the arm he had been dragging the body with, letting it fall with a thud to the carpet below, before he sized up his meal.

With a darker, deeper voice, he answered, “you’ll be gutted before you ever get the chance to breath her air again.”

The prey ran for his life down the hallway, screaming for help as he went. At first he didn’t consider the fact that it should have been impossible for him to outrun Alastor, or for him to make it out of the hallway alive. But as every turn brought him to another hallway rather than the set of stairs he should have found by now, he came to the horrifying conclusion that he was being toyed with. That somehow, with his powers, Alastor had corrupted the very space of the hotel itself, leaving him in a maze of never ending hallways with no possible way out.

He ran until his breath gave out and his sides cramped up with stitches. Stumbling along each new hallway, he nearly vomited when he came across the blood trail left behind by the body Alastor had been dragging. Only this time he was coming up to it from the opposite direction, as if he was following Alastor’s footsteps. Which should have been impossible, since that way was supposed to lead to a dead end. When he turned back around to face the direction he had just come, he saw that it was indeed a dead end, rather than the open-ended left turn he had just made.

 And then the sound of a vacuum cleaner running came from the other end of the hallway. It was completely unexpected and sounded foreign to his terrified ears, but the prey wandered towards the sound, hopeless for another route to take. And perhaps Alastor wouldn’t murder and eat him in front of another hotel resident.

He found Niffty with her back to him, mindlessly vacuuming the hallway. Although it was late at night and any sane person wouldn’t be cleaning at this hour, he didn’t question it with Niffty. The woman was strange and erratic, though he was drawn to her air of innocence. He knew that in Hell, the image of innocence was usually a lie. In fact, it was a lie he was leaning on more and more himself these days. But he was willing to suspend belief when it might lead to a little fun and he had been hoping for an opportunity alone with Niffty since he first saw her.

Those kinds of thoughts were far from his mind when he glanced her that evening.

He was still new to the hotel and though he had seen the news footage of Niffty wielding the knife that killed Adam, he hadn’t yet seen her murder sprees of the roaches, and she appeared weaponless at the moment. The prey was very wrong in his beliefs that she was relatively harmless.

Clearing his throat, he tried to get her attention but either her hearing was very bad, or she just couldn’t hear him over the sound of her vacuum.

He tapped her on the shoulder.

Niffty jumped in her skin for a second before turning around to see who had startled her. When she looked up at him, her one eye looked annoyed and disappointed in him, but she flipped the switch on the vacuum and turned it off.

With a hand on her hip, she gave him a once over, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“You’re not the fun kind of bad boy.”

“Niffty, I need your help,” the prey panted, ignoring what she had said. He often didn’t understand the things she was prone to prattling off about anyway.

Niffty shook her head in disgust.

“Don’t you know the rules of hide and seek?”

The prey could feel the blood draining from his face as understanding dawned on him.

Niffty brought a giant needle seemingly out of nowhere, brandishing it so that it gleamed in the dim light of the hallway.

“You’re supposed to run and hide!” she cackled and raised the needle above her head but the prey was already off, running back in the direction he had come from, never minding that the hall seemed to change before his very eyes, turning into a completely different hallway.

It split in the middle, the stairs that led to the front lobby coming up just to his right, and he sprinted down them, losing his balance and falling the last half of the stairs.

He rolled to a stop on the hard marble of the lobby, looking up at the disinterested forms of Cherri and Angel, and spying Husker in the distance.

“H-help,” he gasped out, but no one even glanced at him.

“No can do,” Angel said and took a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, fuck off,” Cherri agreed.

Husk simply lifted his middle finger and went back to cleaning glasses.

They were all against him, he realized. Stumbling to his feet and clutching his side, he shuffled to the front door.

He half expected it to be locked from the inside but to his great relief and astonishment, it opened. Warm dry air hit his face and he had never been so glad to smell the sickly scent of brimstone air before.

The prey ran across the threshold with no hesitation and with a blink, found himself running head first into the large kitchen island.

“Fuck fuck fucking fuck!” he screamed out as the edge of the counter slammed into his gut, knocking the wind out of him once more.

“Language,” you tutted from the opposite side of the island, where you stood chopping vegetables and herbs.

“Fuck you,” the prey huffed. “Fuck you and your fucking psycho boyfriend.”

“Now that’s no way to talk to a lady,” Alastor’s voice said from the doorway. “I’m afraid that’s a trespass I can not forgive.”

You smiled at Alastor as he walked into the room, past the prey, and came up to your side, admiring the prepping you had accomplished for your dinner in such a small amount of time.

Indeed, just about everything was ready, save the last ingredient. You even had the candles lit and the placemats set.

“Oh my God,” the prey cried.

“I know!” Alastor exclaimed, picking up a sprig of thyme. “Fresh herbs! In Hell! A rarity, but my darling is fantastic at finding these little gems.”

“You’re both insane,” the prey said, backing away from the island and towards  the door.

He tried the knob but of course it was locked from the inside. There truly was no escape.

Urine ran down his legs, soaking the front of his pants, as you and Alastor began approaching your dinner, walking down either side of the island with matching smiles on your faces.

“You see, my little sweetheart here has quite a lot of trauma to work through,” Alastor began. “And dealing with Sinners with your particular vices, helps her process. Oh yes, we know all your dirty little secrets. She always finds those out and reports back to me so that I may . . . satisfy both of our needs.”

The prey closed his eyes and promised himself he wouldn’t scream.

But the second the claws and teeth were on his skin, scream he did.

____

Your hands were covered in blood up to your elbows and you were sure the lower half of your face wasn’t doing much better. But this was indeed the best dinner you and Alastor had shared in quite some time.

“Really my love, you out did yourself finding these,” Alastor said as he sprinkled fresh parsley onto the slab of thigh meat, raising it up to his mouth and with an unnatural hinge of his jaw, swallowed it in one loud gulp.

You smiled, beaming as a result of his praise, and used your knife to take another slice out of the heart on your plate. Blood oozed out of the severed aorta as you cut into the cardiac muscle, the crimson juices overfilling your plate and spiling onto the table below.

“I have my ways,” you said with pride as you took a hearty bite out of your meal.

“Indeed you do,” Alastor hummed, and reached for the body laid across the table in front of you, ready to tear off another piece of meat.

As his claws tore away another chunk of flesh, the door to the kitchen slammed open and there stood an enraged Charlie, catching both of you literally red handed, coated in blood with your prey gutted and half eaten in front of you.

She took a second to look at the body and then her eyes darted between you and Alastor. Then with a large exhale, she screamed, “What the actual fuck is going on!”

Author's Note: I am sssoooooo sorry this took so long to come out. My wife is in school and we share a laptop so I've had limited access to write. And pregnancy brain has me in a fog and sleeping on most of my down time anyway. I hope you all can forgive me!

Tag list: @cosmiccandydreamer @itsaubreyofcc @thereallsaturnstar @anngray1369 @l3rittany @littlebluefishtail @saccharine-nectarine @everwolf-20 @chewiii-13 @yunecardelia

[utilitycaster]

Do you think the god debate and narrative around it in C3 would be more compelling if Ludinus only focused on killing the Betrayer Gods a la Cassida? As many pointed out, the impact that Primes have on mortals is largely positive. Aside from cool abilities, they give healing, meaning and comfort to their followers. Up until very recently (Braius) we haven't seen Betrayers do much of that and their followers are, more often than not, people who would cause great harm to others.

I actually do not. There's multiple questions in here, and honestly I could probably write 5000 words on any of them, which I'm not going to do, but I will split this up into components.

First: I don't think Ludinus is the problem at all. He is unambiguously the villain, but he is always narratively compelling. It is fun to make fun of him because he is genuinely a fantastically crafted villain. When I dunk on villains who are boring, it's nowhere near as fun because all you can say is "wow what do you even do. boring-ass" whereas Ludinus is full of interesting possibilities and hooks to be like how can you be so smart and have lived for so long and seen so much and come to the fucking worst conclusions. There's a reason why people have been side-eyeing him consistently since at least his first speaking appearance in Campaign 2, if not his first appearance ever, in Felderwin, and it's because he's a great character who I hope dies horribly. So his motivations are fine. I'm not saying the possibility you suggest wouldn't be a very interesting different story, but my complaints about narrative and the gods debate do not require anything different from Ludinus, who has been a consistent bright spot within the muddied narrative by being a consistent blot on Exandria and also sometimes the moon.

The narrative and the god debate are intertwined - the issue is a dull indecision that plagues both of them - so I'm splitting this one up a little differently.

What do I as a viewer think is the most reasonable stance regarding the gods based on my understanding of the worldbuilding of Exandria?

What is interesting to watch?

And therein lies the problem. I, as a viewer, think that killing the gods is a bad idea, and I've articulated this in various spaces and am not going to write another 5000 words about it right now, but between the events of past campaigns; the events of this campaign including Downfall; who within the narrative supports the choice to not kill the gods; and the complete uncertainty regarding the fate of existence let alone mortaldom should they be killed or chased away I have come to this position. Any counter-argument tends to rely either on entirely false statements, or a nebulous "a better world is possible" without any assurances that the allegedly better world is, in fact, probable. Ironically enough, I am not willing to take a leap of faith.

But as for what's interesting to watch? That's an entirely different story. My issue with the the gods debates is that they are endless, circular, indecisive, and between the least informed group of PCs we've had by a large margin. They say the same 5 sentences in different words over and over. It's like watching a bunch of high people while you're sober. It only hits hard if you're stupid. For more on this see here and here. If Bells Hells had decided 30 or 40 episodes ago to side with Ludinus, or to try to only kill the Betrayers, or to oppose Ludinus but kill the gods? Great. Fantastic. I'm not saying I wouldn't have had my critiques of it given the worldbuilding setup as described above, but I think it would have held up infinitely better as a standalone story, at least, than it does now. My problem is that instead they had endless circular indecisive conversations during a bunch of (comparatively much more interesting) fetch quests, finally came to some kind of conclusion that gave the end game some structure and direction like 4 episodes ago, and then had yet another wrench thrown at them. And convention panels and Cooldown have consistently confirmed my suspicions about the lack of planning in the places where this campaign really needed it. In my conversations after the latest episode, multiple people independently used the term "sludge" to describe their feelings about the plot.

In actual play, I want characters who have clear conviction and make bold and decisive moves because handwringing forever in such a slow-moving medium is excruciatingly boring. Like, do I think Percy in the Briarwoods arc is making good, informed decisions that make him a moral person? Absolutely the fuck not. Do I think the story where he's shooting first and asking questions later is infinitely superior to one where Vox Machina can't decide what to do for 50 episodes? Yeah.

The god debates are ultimately a symptom of this narrative aimlessness. The lack of an answer is the problem, not what the answer is.

[lovelynim]

May the best one win

Genshin Impact - Xiao, Aether, Albedo and Wanderer

A/N: First things first, I want to thank @eliankrios for his support, patience and - above all that - his trust. This is my first big project in a good while and I think (and hope) that I managed to do a good job so... yeah.

I'm not really used to larger fics, but before I noticed, I was already reaching the word count. This was trully a ride, hahah. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, my dear, faithful customer!

Summary: One day away from starting the next cycle of his journey, why not gather a few friends - and a special person - to hang together?

Word count: 6605 words

Aether sat down and placed a bunch of letters on top of his desk, spreading them out in a fan. He couldn’t help but feel the expectation building up inside him, hoping for a positive outcome.

A couple weeks ago, Aether decided to promote some sort of gathering with his friends. A little farewell party before heading out to the next cycle of his adventure - after all, who knows for how long he will be away in Natlan?

So, with this thought in mind, Aether used his bestest writing to invite the ones he held dear over. Delivering the letters across all the continents he visited so far was a tough task, but Aether knew it would be worth the effort. Not only his friends, but he was also inviting him over, so of course he had to do each and every thing in his reach to make it work.

Back to the present, the replies to his invitations began to arrive, one after the other. The different seals in each stamp showed where they were from: Mondstadt, Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru and Fontaine. Aether sighed, picking up the first one and carefully ripping it open.

His eyes scanned over the words written down, beaming with excitement with the positive answer by the foot of the page. A sense of relief and happiness filled his heart by the time he opened the second letter. And the third… well, the traveler pouted, maybe not everything would work out, after all. The fourth and fifth balanced each other out: both answers surprised Aether as they came as the completely opposite of what he had anticipated.

So far, Albedo, Xiao and Wanderer agreed to come over, while Kazuha and Lyney had to decline his request: one thanks to The Crux’s sailing plans and the other to his busy agenda. Still, managing to bring these three, with him included, was enough to fuel Aether’s imagination, dreaming of the day of the gathering.

He looked down at the letters, his mind now wandering to the second matter: what was he going to do with those three together? Thinking about it, would they even get along? Well, surely about was an easier person to be dealt with, but Xiao and Wanderer…

Aether shook his head. He shouldn’t be expecting the worst. What if they ended up enjoying each other's company? Or even became friends? Yes! The traveler stretched out his arms above his head, crossing his hands behind his head as he stared at the Serenitea Pot’s ceiling. He couldn’t wait for the day to come!

…

Well, they were talking to each other, at least. Not in the way Aether expected - or wanted, for that matter - but, still, a conversation, he supposed. 

Clenching his hand around his cup, Aether peeked left and right, hoping to spot any improvement in his guests’ mood. So far, however, Albedo was the only one to be enjoying himself, it seemed. He sighed, a faint voice inside his head already telling this whole meeting was a bad idea.

It’s not like he could say things went downhill from the very start. At first, with just him and Albedo - the first one to arrive -, everything worked out just fine: they had a little chat, Albedo tried out one of his dishes and even complimented Aether on the whole idea. It, indeed, felt like it was about to work out amazingly.

However, it seemed like his plans shattered in front of his very own eyes from the moment his second and third guest arrived - both at the same time, coincidentally. As soon as Xiao and Wanderer landed eyes on each other, animosity and an ominous feeling began to fill the room.

For some unknown reason, they did seem to get along. Aether couldn’t recall a time where they could possibly have interacted before and, being in his right mind, he wouldn’t consider inviting them both together if he knew about any of this - so why do they seem to… hate each other?!

Still, at first, Aether tried to think that it was just his impressions. After all, they wouldn’t be at each other’s throats for the whole night, now, would they?

They would. In fact, they were still at it.

There was no need for words when the two anemo users stared at each other like that, silently threatening their opponent and throwing daggers with their piercing looks. Aether could barely breathe as the tension began to get to him. It felt like they would start to throw punches if Aether took his eyes out of them for a single second!

Suddenly - breaking the silence like a rock thrown at a peaceful lake - Albedo hummed, clearly pleased. “The tea is really good, traveler,” he said, taking the cup away from his lips as he lowered it, “where did you say it came from again?”

Aether’s jaw dropped. ‘My savior’, he thought, coughing to clean up his throat before proudly holding his cup up. “From Fontaine! It might be a bit too sweet, but I really liked it, hehe… I ended up getting a couple more, so drink as much as you want, ‘Bedo!”

“Huh, ‘a bit too sweet’?” Wanderer scoffed, leaning back in his seat and cocking his head to the side, throwing Aether a teasing stare. “You have such a childish taste, traveler. I bet you even added sugar to your cup, didn’t you?”

“A-ahah,” Aether giggled nervously, blushing slightly. He indeed added an extra sugar cube… “Well, I just-”

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it,” Xiao interrupted drily, his arms crossed in front of his chest while his brows furrowed. Uh oh. “Aether had all the trouble in preparing it for us. It’s rude to complain like that.”

“X-Xiao, it’s not that ser-”

“So what? Why are you even hurting in his place?” Wanderer snapped back defiantly, barely shifting in his place if not for his head tilting back - moving it just to look down at Xiao.

This was bad. Really, really bad. Aether looked left and right, trying to utter something to ease the tension, but ending up just getting interrupted before managing to utter anything. He didn’t even know if he should step in at that point - what if they thought he was taking a side? Even worse, what if they wanted him to take a side?!

While Aether lost himself in a flurry of thoughts, with one idea running over the other, Xiao and Wanderer continued their ‘little’ bickering, getting more and more flared up with each other.

“You should show proper respect to your host - especially if it’s someone as Aether,” Xiao hissed, leaning forward in his seat as if ready to jump at Wanderer’s face within the next seconds. 

Still, the other guy didn’t seem like he was planning to back down. “I can talk to him however I want. We are friends and he doesn’t mind. Why should I listen to you?”

“Apologize to the traveler. Now.”

“Or what, Yaksha?” Wanderer grinned. “Want to take it outside? I can b-”

Clap!

“Ahem.”

The two stopped, widening their eyes in surprise and turning their attention to Albedo, who still had his hands together. He also managed to call Aether’s attention, who watched him with expectant eyes - almost as if begging him for a solution. Someone as smart as him surely could come up with something, right?

“I didn’t plan to step in, but it doesn’t seem like you two will figure it out peacefully,” he sighed, his eyes scanning the room from one side to the other, making eye contact with Xiao and, then, with Wanderer. “Am I right?”

The two guys looked away, one puffing out his cheeks while the other clicked his tongue. Why did it feel like he was dealing with two kids..?

“He started it,” Xiao mumbled, saddened to see how distressed Aether was at the whole scene. “He was being rude to Aether.”

Wanderer sighed, rolling his eyes, “exactly, to Aether. Not to you. He doesn’t even care, you are the only one complaining.” Just as he finished speaking, Wanderer also shot a glance at Aether’s face and, despite his attempts to conceal his emotions, it was clear that it also bothered him.

However, even when they were aware of the consequences of their bickering, it didn’t seem to be enough to appease the mood. In a blink of an eye, they were about to start the whole discussion all over again.

So, for the second time, Albedo decided to meddle in their fight. “Do you two really wish to fight each other so badly?”

The unfriendly duo huffed, keeping themselves quiet, but clearly agreeing with Albedo’s statement.

“Sure, you can fight, then.”

“A-Albedo?!” Aether gasped, what was he even trying to achieve by allowing such a thing? Did he want to take notes on the results of Xiao and Wanderer’s falling out?! “N-no, you can’t fig-”

“But,” Albedo continued, skilfully capturing the attention of all the people in the room, “to prevent any harm to be done, you’ll have to solve this through a contest. And, whoever wins, gets to be ‘right’ about this matter. Good enough?”

Silence quickly sat in the room. Albedo could be a really mysterious - if not confusing - person when he wanted and, at times like these, it was almost impossible to figure him out. What was he even planning with this ‘contest’?

“Why would I even joi-”

“Fine for me,” Xiao abruptly cut Wanderer’s speech, looking at his possible opponent. “I can do it, no matter what it is.”

Wanderer gritted his teeth, growling quietly as Xiao managed to easily get into his nerves. “Ok, let’s do it. I can’t wait to hear the Yaksha begging for my pardon.”

Albedo smiled, looking at his side to meet Aether’s eyes. “Would you like to join as well, traveler?”

“H-huh? Me?”

“Yes, you can take part in it too,” Albedo nodded. “If you win, then they both shall apologise to each other.”

Aether furrowed his brows slightly, taking the offer in consideration. Certainly, winning on their terms would probably prevent Xiao and Wanderer from getting into another fight so it should be worth the try, right?

“Alright, I’ll join you guys too!” Aether clenched his hands, excited. This was getting interesting. “So, what’s your idea, Albedo?”

“Yeah,” Wanderer added, “what’s the ‘contest’ about?”

“Endurance.”

…

“What?” Xiao, Aether and Wanderer asked, almost in unison. 

Albedo chuckled, taking back his seat and elegantly crossing one knee over the other, ready to start his explanation. “So, the main goal here is to prevent you,” he pointed to Xiao, “and you,” then at Wanderer, “to hurt each other. My proposal, then, is an endurance test. Whoever lasts longer, wins. Simple as that.”

“And how exactly do you plan to test our endurance? Making us run around the house?” Wanderer mumbled, supporting his head on his hand as he looked at Albedo.

“By tickling you,” Albedo said with a smile, contrasting the unsettled faces of the other three. “Whoever takes the longest time to yield, wins.”

It didn’t take long for a pink hue to cover everyone’s faces. While Aether’s eyes widened and his whole body tensed up with a shiver running up his spine, Wanderer looked away, trying to hide his blushing cheeks by pretending to cringe at the idea. Meanwhile, Xiao fiddled in his seat, trying to find courage to face such a trial while telling himself that ‘it was for Aether’.

And, just like that, no one dared to object to the idea - each of them with their own reasons to not do so. “It’s settled then,” Albedo said as he clapped his hands together, his eyes scanning the whole room while a subtle smirk planted itself on his lips. “Is there anyone that would like to go first?”

That question seemed to spark a whole new level of anticipation among the ‘contestants’. Eager eyes shifted back and forth between one and another, trying to read who was going to make the first move.

A sharp inhale, then, directed everyone’s attention to Wanderer. “Fine, I’ll do it. Just get over with this stupid contest already,” he groaned, throwing a deadly glare to the other three as if daring one of them to even lift a finger towards him.

And as expected, his silent threats seemed to do the trick for Aether while, as for the Yaksha, it seemed to make him hesitate - after all, he wouldn’t want to start a fight in front of the traveler again. However, during the few seconds Wanderer occupied himself with keeping an eye on them, Albedo made his move.

“AH!” Wanderer squeaked like a toy, quickly shooting his arms down and pressing them against his body as hard as he could, trying to stop Albedo’s hands from climbing his ribs any further. “Y-you- fuhuck! G-grhrr, I wihill f-fuhucking kihill you!!” He growled, leaning his head back into the chair rest, but further into Albedo’s grasp.

“You’re allowed to laugh, though. I think I forgot to mention that,” Albedo mused, his index fingers poking at different spots in Wanderer’s ribcage, prodding at the little spaces between each bone in search for a sensitive spot that would make him crack. “Just say ‘yellow’ when you can’t take it anymore and I’ll stop, ok? That’s also what will count as ‘yield’.”

“I d-dohon’t need a fu- pfft, d-damn it! A sahahafe word! I’m n-nohot tihihicklish!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Albedo mocked, digging into the back of Wanderer’s ribs with his thumb. Getting behind him was proving to be awfully convenient for him, he thought while making little notes in his head about Wanderer’s ticklish spots.

It was a sight to behold, from Aether’s and Xiao’s point of view. Albedo made touching someone like Wanderer seem easy, even casual, completely tickling his way through the threats and curses. 

“You’re pretty ticklish here, right?”

“N-NOhohoh!! G-gehehet off, ahAHAH!!” 

If it weren’t for the fact that they were up next in the line to get that treatment, it would be a pretty amusing scene to watch. As expected of Albedo, it seemed that every tweak of his fingers, every poke and every stroke were planned, calculated. Wanderer didn’t stand a chance as no matter what direction he arched or twisted his body, Albedo would already have his hands ready to welcome him with more tickles there. “Yohohou jehEHEHerk!! It tihihickles!”

Albedo simply scoffed a laugh and continued with the ‘contest’s trial’, his digits kneading at Wanderer’s lowest set of ribs. “Of course it does, that’s my goal.” 

But despite how hard he tried to make it tickle or how bad Wanderer claimed it to be, he was still not yielding - which meant it wasn’t time for Albedo to stop or let him go yet. A small pout took place in his lips while he pondered if he should try a different spot or, maybe, look around Aether’s place for a quill or a brush?

Then, feeling the gazes of his audience upon him and the current contestant, a different idea popped up in Albedo’s mind. Right, why didn’t he consider asking for some helping hands before?

“Would you like to join us?” Albedo suggested, cocking his head to the right while one of his hands managed to sneak under Wanderer’s arm, managing to tickle the smooth skin with the tip of his digits even with Wanderer clasping his arms down as hard as he possibly could. “Oh, did I hit a good spot?” He mused, looking down to the one squirming in his grip.

“NOHohohoh!! I-it’s ahAHAHahwful!!” Wanderer whined, his feet kicking up as he threw himself back in his seat, hoping to make Albedo lose contact with him, even if it was just for a split of a second. 

Back to the other two, they pondered about Albedo’s offer - after all, that seemed to be a double edged knife: if they did join, that meant Wanderer would also get to join when it was their turn to get tickled? But wouldn’t that also mean they had the chance to make him surrender faster? Well, it was worth the shot, Xiao thought, while Aether only considered that it would make things more fun - and that should be enough to outweigh the cons. 

Wanderer - too busy laughing and squirming in his seat, trying to fend off Albedo’s skilful fingers - barely noticed the two figures walking towards him. Not only that, but it wasn’t like any other sound besides his giggles could make it out of his mouth at that time.

All he could pay attention to was Albedo’s fingers trying to move and wiggle their way further up his torso, still managing to tickle him under his arms even when he tried so hard to protect that spot. Each move sent that awful signal that made him want to smile and laugh through his nerves and straight into his brain, over and over. 

He wasn’t even human, so why was he so sensitive?

Suddenly, that and other inquiries that crossed his mind lost all the room they had inside Wanderer’s mind. With his eyes still pressed shut, he could only feel - as focused for a brief moment - that Albedo’s hands managed to… multiply? Wait, that didn’t make any sense. If he was tickling his armpits, then who the hell was holding him down by his waist?

Oh.

“W-wahahait!! I didn’t sahahay you’d gehehet to join!” Wanderer whined, pulling his knees up close to his stomach as his in a vain attempt of stopping Aether from joining in. “GeEHEhet ahaway frohohom me!!”

“Stop squirming,” Xiao groaned coldly, grabbing one of his ankles and forcing him to stretch out his leg, “Albedo said we could join. You weren’t already thinking of yielding, were you?”

“Don’t be mean to him, Xiao,” Aether said, but didn’t complain about the extra room Xiao provided him. His fingers roamed freely, wiggling over Wanderer’s lower sides and stomach.

“YOHOHOU!! AHahAHaha, y-you suhuhuck!” Wanderer laughed, scrunching up his shoulders and thrashing his head left and right.

Albedo tickling his armpits and ribs from behind, Aether playing with his middle like an instrument and that stupid Yaksha holding his legs down. This couldn’t possibly have gone any worse, Wanderer thought while a wide, careless smile bloomed into his face.

“Tickle tickle tickle! ~” Aether cooed, repetitively poking Wanderer around his navel, circling his stomach and even going down to tease his sides as well. “I think I’m better than Albedo at tickling you, won’t you agree?”

“That’s bold coming from you, traveler,” Albedo snapped back, “I would say he is barely feeling your hands.”

It was hard to even process what was happening around him. Wanderer’s body mostly moved out of reflex, barely having room to ponder about his actions. He arched his back, tried to kick his feet up and even twist his torso, swatting his hands at any ‘threat’ within his reach. “S-stohohop it!! Y-yohou ahHAHare all s-so- aHAHaha, so l-lahahame!”

If this was how things went, Wanderer could probably achieve a decent score with much effort. However, there was a missing piece that he failed to notice: Xiao. The Yaksha, while keeping Wanderer’s legs held down, watched the whole scene carefully and plotted his strategy - the main goal was to defeat him, after all. Why show him any mercy?

“I tohohold you to stahAHAHAH!!”

Aether and Albedo widened their eyes as his laughter soon rose a pitch. Maybe even two. To their surprise, the ‘best tickler’ wasn’t Aether nor Albedo, but Xiao. “This is the weak spot,” Xiao muttered, his eyes coldly staring at Wanderer’s laughing face. He kept one of his legs outstretched while, with his free hand, he squeezed the spot just above Wanderer’s knee, sending him into hysterics.

Simple. Effective. Even a bit cruel, if you asked Wanderer. The tickling from Albedo and Aether even slowed down a bit, but Wanderer’s laugh only seemed to grow more and more frantic.

“NOHOHOH MOHOHOREHEH!! AHAHAhah, f-fiHIHIHINE! AHAH ~” He whined, desperately trying to pull his leg out of Xiao’s grip, “Y-YEHEHEHELLOW!! StahAHAH-”

Clap.

Xiao lifted his eyes from Wanderer’s to Albedo’s face. The alchemist had a pleased smile on his face while holding his hand out in front of his chest. 

“A-ahah… ah… y-you freheheak…” Wanderer cursed through tired giggles, his body going limp on top of his seat. His disheveled hair sticking to his forehead while his chest waved, trying to catch up his breath.

“Well, that wraps up our first round,” Albedo explained.

A cocky smirk took place in Xiao’s lips as he looked down at his main opponent, almost as if mocking him. Meanwhile, Aether’s eyes opened wide, beaming with excitement and anticipation - as that was probably what would wait for him. “H-how long was it, ‘Bedo?”

“I can’t say it yet, traveler,” he chuckled, “I don’t want anyone trying to push themselves beyond their limit just because of a silly game. So, let’s just stick with the rules for now, yes?” With that said, Albedo slowly walked around the chair, letting Wanderer rest while looking at Xiao and Aether, “should I decide who is going next, now?”

If it weren’t for Wanderer’s heavy breathing, the room would have been engulfed by silence again. However, just as Albedo was about to say something else, his attention shifted from the pair of “upcoming contestants” to the one next him. “Wanderer, what are you-”

“The Yaksha is going next,” Wanderer said as he got up, walking towards Xiao with bloodlust in his eyes. Did he really remember the goal of this contest was to not use violence?! “Come here!”

“G-get away from me!” Xiao groaned, trying to step back just to be tackled down into the soft carpet. Before Aether or Albedo could express their concern, Wanderer was already… tickling him. “S-stohop it! I dohon’t want y-you to doho it!” Xiao whined, kicking up his feet and swatting his hands at Wanderer's in a rather careless manner - it was not like he would bother himself with trying to not hurt him by accident.

Wanderer, with a wicked grin spreading over his face, continued to knead into Xiao's sides, determined to break him into laughter as soon as possible. “What do you mean? You wanted someone else to tickle you, you freak?” He mocked, pushing his hands away before dig into his lower stomach.

“S-shuhut it!! This ihihis nohohothing!” Xiao laughed out loud, caught off guard by the sudden change of spots. A faint blush began to spread over his face as he realized Aether had been watching him all this time. “I c-cahan tahahake it,” he boasted, almost as if trying to impress the traveler.

Wanderer, however, wasn't going to let that slide off easily - he was also one of the contestants, after all. “Suit yourself, Yaksha,” he muttered, half annoyed by Xiao's stubbornness, half amused by the whole situation.

Xiao was fighting not only one battle, but two. One to restrain himself from laughing, to make that revengeful tickling a bit more bearable and last the longest among them - or, at least, longer than Wanderer. The second was to maintain a collected image in front of Aether - the one he was ‘fighting’ for. It was just a childish, stupid game, not something that could beat a Yaksha. It was just tickling - he could, and would, take it, yes. 

“I-ihihit’s useless!” Xiao mumbled through gritted teeth, trying to mock Wanderer’s attempts to crack him up. “Yohohou are teheherrible at this!”

And as much as he would hate to admit, seeing Xiao taking it so well was starting to get on Wanderer's nerves. He tried tickling his sides and ribs, scratching his stomach and even pinch his waist, but couldn’t find a spot that really worked: all he could get from Xiao was those quiet, annoyed chuckles. “It doesn’t sound like you agree with that, Yaksha.”

“Are they always this competitive?” Albedo muttered to Aether with a surprised smile on his face, unable to do anything but be amused by the whole scene. “I didn’t expect they would take it so seriously.”

“W-well, they never hung together before,” Aether chirped, scratching the back of his head in surprise. At least no one was getting hurt and they were… enjoying themselves? Having fun? Something like that, he thought. “But I think it’s a good thing they… are sort of getting alo-”

“Hey, you two,” Wanderer groaned with a frown, “aren’t you going to help me as well? Or did you suddenly decide to not get involved?”

“H-hah, I knehehew you cohohouldn’t do it b-by yohohourself,” Xiao taunted again, a confident smirk taking space in his lips amidst the restrained giggles. He, however, kept a tight grip around Wanderer’s wrists, limiting a good amount of his moves. “You ahahare not up fohor the tahask!”

“Shut it, Yaksha,” Wanderer groaned, growing frustrated. He moved his head left and right, switching his attention between Xiao and the other duo, “I’ll make you eat your words, j-just you- ugh, let go,” he hissed, yanking his hands out of Xiao’s wrists before latching them at his sides again, making the latter arch his back and kick his feet as a loud fit of laughter nearly broke through his throat.

Aether and Albedo couldn’t help but to snicker at the scene. Nodding as if in some kind of silent agreement, they decided to join Wanderer’s efforts in making Xiao laugh. 

Albedo first positioned himself behind Wanderer’s, further restraining Xiao’s legs. Despite the whines and protests, he managed to pull off one of his boots and pin his leg into the soft mattress to scribble over the socked sole with his free hand. Albedo’s fingers wiggled upwards, stroking from Xiao’s heel up to his toes.

As for Aether, he took upon himself the task to take care of Xiao’s hands, taking a seat right next to the Yaksha’s head and allowing him to use his lap as a pillow. With a bit of Wanderer’s aid, he managed to pull Xiao’s hands up, exposing more of his torso for Wanderer’s merciless tickles. For some reason, having Aether holding his wrists down was flustering him the most among everything that was happening around him. 

With the ticklish feeling running back and forth all over his body, Xiao thrashed his head, pressing it further into Aether’s lap as he laughed brightly. His free leg kicked and his back arched - his defenses had, indeed, crumbled. Still, the whole point wasn’t to make him laugh, but to make him surrender.

“T-thahAHAH- that’s unfahAHAhair!!” Xiao laughed, a faint red shade covering the whole extent of his cheeks. “L-lehehet go, trahAHAhaveler!” He pleaded, his hands clenched into fists while he desperately tried to pull down his arms, only to have Aether stopping him midway and pinned down again

“Not so cocky now, eh?” Wanderer grinned, his fingers digging into the side of Xiao’s ribs while his thumbs prodded at the spot below his chest, determined to find that spot, that sweet spot that would make Xiao apologize for nagging him. “Tsk, just yield already, stubborn Yaksha,” Wanderer groaned, quickly shooting his hands down to pinch Xiao’s sides, “you are clearly at your limit.”

“It would be wise to not push you to your limits, Xiao,” Albedo said, barely bothering himself to look back at the whole scene as he was too entertained with Xiao’s foot trying to squirm away from his fingers. “If you feel like it, just say the word.”

“I’m doHOHOhon’t neh-HEHEHEH NEEHEHED IT!”

The three sighed, something giving them the feeling that Xiao would rather have his brain melted by the laughter than admit defeat. “Oh, Xiao, why are you always so stubborn?” Aether chuckled, his fingers itching to do a bit more than just holding Xiao down… but, if he were to join, he should pick a good spot - but where?

His eyes roamed from Xiao’s flushed cheeks down to his neck, then up to his ears and to his arms, which were held up next to his head. Oh. Aether smirked, letting go of one of Xiao’s hands and reaching out for his exposed underarm, clawing at it with his free hand. “Come on, Xiao ~ I know it tickles too bad, even for you ~”

Just as expected, Xiao bursted into a louder fit of laughter as soon as Aether joined the efforts into cracking him up. The Yaksha’s banged his free hand against the soft mat underneath him, clenching it into a fist. 

His cheeks and the sides of stomach were hurting from laughing so much and he couldn’t even make some meaning out of the conversation that was happening around him. It tickled so, so bad… Xiao pressed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the tickling, but each second of that electric feeling running all over his body felt an eternity. He couldn’t take it.

“AHAHAHAH, YEHEHELLOW!! YehEHEHEllow, plehehease!!” Xiao barked out among his cackles, turning his laughing face to the side and trying to bury it into Aether’s legs to hide his blushing cheeks. It took his brain some solid seconds to process that the tickling was over and, after all that “torment”, he was free.

“H-hehe, are you ok, Xiao?” Aether hummed, brushing his hand through Xiao’s head and wiping out the little tears that clung to the corner of his eyes.

“Tsk”, Wanderer pouted, totally not jealous of the little aftercare the Yaksha was receiving, “it’s just tickling. What kind of warrior would he be if he can’t take it?”

Albedo chuckled, but spared Wanderer of the reminder that he was the one laughing his head off just moments ago. “Don’t be mean, he did a pretty good job at this round,” he added, sliding off Xiao’s legs, “now… there is only one contestant left, right?”

That comment seemed to switch something inside Wanderer and Xiao’s heads. While Albedo displayed a playful smile, the other two locked their gazes into Aether’s face, one from below and the other in front of him, the latter just a half-a-Xiao away. “A-ahm… wait a second, I-”

“You’re not going back on your word, right?” Wanderer said with a smirk on his lips, already moving off of Xiao’s lap. Before Aether could even think of arguing back, the Yaksha was already sitting back up, staring at him with his golden eyes.

Aether swallowed, already accepting that there would be no way out for him this time. “F-fine, you cahAHA! W-wahahait a second, Xiao!”

“No,” Xiao muttered in a quiet, almost serious voice tone while he shyly pawed at Aether’s exposed sides, kneading into any patch of skin he could reach. 

Truth to be told, Aether would have to deal with both him and Wanderer tickling him from the start if it weren’t for the way Xiao looked at the other two - like a wild animal fighting for its territory. Still, Aether was too busy laughing and trying to defend himself to notice those bits of possessive behavior. “You shouldn’t have agreed to this, traveler,” Xiao hummed, his words as firm as you’d expect from a warrior, but still… gentle somehow. “You’re too ticklish for it, it’s unwise.”

“I wahahanted to try!” Aether giggled, letting himself be handled by the Yaksha and comfortably placed on Xiao’s lap. With one arm around his back, Xiao continued to tickle Aether, smiling fondly as he managed to hang this close to the traveler. “X-Xiahahao,” Aether whimpered, scrunching up his shoulder, “n-not my ehehehar!”

“But I’m not tickling you there, I’m just breathing,” Xiao chuckled, his fingers dancing around Aether’s stomach while he nuzzled his face against the side of Aether’s neck, “I told you, you’re too ticklish for this contest.”

While Xiao insisted on teaching and lecturing Aether about the sensitive spots in his body, Wanderer and Albedo exchanged glances, watching from afar as Aether laughed out brightly. “Doesn’t this count as going too easy on him?” Wanderer pouted, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he sulked against the couch.

“Let him have it,” Albedo sighed with a slight chuckle, “and I’m not talking about the traveler,” he added quietly, making Wanderer arch one of his eyebrows. Well, at least someone in the room knew how to read in between the lines, after all. “Besides, don’t you think you’re taking this competition a little too seriously?”

“What?” Wanderer huffed, entertaining himself with the conversation while Aether’s laughter grew in the background, “do you expect me to compete for the second place? Someone needs to teach that Yaksha his place.”

Albedo laughed, covering his lips with the back of his hand in a charming manner. “Well, if you say so,” he shook his head, returning his attention to Aether - who was already blushing from laughing. For some reason, Xiao was also blushing just as much, if not more, while tickling the traveler.

“Xiahahahao, n-not thehehere!” Aether giggled, tugging at Xiao’s wrists and leaning his head back into Xiao’s shoulder while Xiao pinched and squeezed his waist, prodding at the soft spots just above his hip bones. “I-it tihihihickles too bahahahad!” 

“I-it’s supposed to,” Xiao nodded, resting his chin by the side of Aether’s neck and allowing him to sink deeper into his embrace, “but you’re d-doing quite well, traveler. I expected you to tap out much faster than thi-”

“It’s because you’re going too easy on him,” Wanderer interrupted with a smirk, pushing himself back up into his feet and walking towards the little couple duo. Xiao frowned, too greedy to share his precious traveler with that… guy.

“I know how he likes it,” Xiao snapped, making Aether groan in embarrassment. Did he really need to say that out loud, the traveler thought, but didn’t voice it. “Unlike you, it seems.”

However, against what he expected, Wanderer chuckled at his snark. He shook his head and clicked his lips, almost as if spotting a fatal flaw in Xiao’s method. “That’s the problem. He shouldn’t like it, right? He needs to beg!”

“AHAHAH!!”

Xiao widened his eyes as Aether bursted out in a loud, unrestrained fit of laughter - and only then he realized the traveler was only giggling all this time, and not laughing for real. “He is pretty ticklish all over, all somewhat the same,” Wanderer scoffed, pushing his hands under Aether's arms and clawing at his ribs and the sides of his chest, “you need to go harder or you’re not going to make any progress.”

As much as he hated to admit, Xiao couldn’t deny that Wanderer seem to be… right. Could he actually have been going easy on Aether all this time without notice?

Despite the little bickering happening around him, Aether could only mind the fact that it tickled. Xiao’s gentle, playfully tickles around his stomach and hips made him feel lighthearted, made his heart flutter. Meanwhile, the restless, almost maniac-like touches from Wanderer’s fingers around his ribs made his head spin and even made his chest hurt a little from the lack of air. “A-AHAHAHALBEDO,” Aether cried out, pressing his arms down against his sides as he tried to protect his vulnerable torso from the tickles that seemed to come from all sides, “HEHEHELP MEHEHE! AHAHA!!”

“I can’t,” the alchemist said from the distance, his voice barely audible among the loud cackling, “you didn’t say it yet.”

Right, the word. That word. Aether shook his head, gritting his teeth as he tried to gather strength to say it. “Y-YEHEHE- AHAHAH!! Y-yehehell- hhahAHAH, I CAHAHAN’T!”

“Come on,” Wanderer mocked, “it’s a simple word, how come you can’t do it?”

“I’M TRYHIHING! AHAHAH, PLEHEHEASE!” He whined, shaking his head while tears of mirth clung to his lashes, “Y-YELLOW! YEHEHEHELLOW!”

Wanderer grinned triumphantly and Albedo sighed in relief, but Xiao pouted slightly, feeling like his fun was ruined by that other guy - even though he was still glad he managed to have Aether for himself, even if for just a bit.  

“A-ahahah… o-oh my…” Aether giggled, nearly melting over Xiao as the tickling finally came to halt. His head was spinning and he could swear he almost ascended to Celestia right there and then. “T-thihis was fun, heh…”

“It’s not supposed to be fun, it’s a competition,” Wanderer corrected him, that self-assigned superiority back in his eyes. “Now, alchemist, who wo-”

“Wait,” Aether stopped, shaking his head as if to force himself to recover, “it’s not over yet,” he smiled, taking one last gasp of air to stead his breath. “It’s Albedo’s turn now.”

“What?” Albedo blinked in confusion, pointing to himself with one of his hands as if to emphasize his shock. “But I’m not participating,” he said while letting out a small giggle, trying to hide his nervousness.

“How come?” Wanderer added, reading through Aether’s intentions and deciding to encourage them for once, “it’s only fair you get a turn too, this was all your idea, after all.”

Albedo’s eyebrow twitched slightly while his body leaned back into the couch, the apprehension growing within his chest. “M-my idea to solve your conflicts, I’m not part of the deal. W-what would I even win by beating you?”

“That’s up for you to decide,” Xiao added, standing up again before helping Aether to get back into his feet, “but I agree you should participate.”

Aether looked at Wanderer, at his right, and then at Xiao, at his left. He didn’t expect them to join or support his plan - he only wanted an excuse to tickle Albedo, after all - but this whole ‘contest’ thing seemed to, indeed, have made them closer. “Get ready, ‘Bedo! ~”

“A-Aether!” Albedo gasped, trying to get up in a hurry to evade Aether, but only managing to get a few meters away from the couch before being tackled down by the traveler. “S-stohop!”

“I didn’t even start,” Aether laughed, straddling Albedo’s back before starting to tickle his sides and lower ribs. “Show them how it’s done, ‘Bedo!”

Damn it. Of all the things that could’ve happened, a turn of tables against him - with even Xiao and Wanderer fighting on the same side - was the last one Albedo expected. “Nohoho! I dohohon’t wahahant to pahaharticipate!”

Aether smirked, shaking his head, “too late for that! But don’t worry, I’m rooting for you,” he said, letting out a short giggle while trying to move his fingers towards Albedo’s armpits - an attempt the alchemist promptly blocked, stopping to flail his arms and using them to try to protect his body instead. “You two,” Aether called out, looking over his shoulder, “aren’t you going to join?”

Xiao and Wanderer nodded, walking towards where Albedo had been restrained, “of course, he is the ‘most promising contestant’, after all, “Wanderer commented sarcastically.

“W-wahahait! Yellow! I-I quihihit!”

“That’s not acceptable,” Xiao added in a cold voice tone despite the warm, playful smile on his face, “you’re clearly not being fair with us. You should always give it your all, no matter the circumstances.”

“Nohoho! W-what ahahre you two doin- aHAHAH! H-hehehey, lehehet me go! ~” Albedo laughed, feeling some more weight against his legs before the new sets of fingers began to roam and tickle any spot they could find around his legs. If they were already so determined to tickle him, Albedo didn’t even want to imagine how they would react when they found out that there was no true winner - after all, he had never timed their turns to begin with.

Sigh, at least they seemed  more friendly towards each other now, Albedo thought while trying to sound “genuine” enough in his attempts of yielding between his laughter. This was going to be a long - but fun - night…

[demigod-shenanigans]

Some more of my and @queenjunothegreat’s Sofía Valdez thoughts (this time specifically focused on her relationship with her dads when she’s little):

-Jason is the kind of dad who has more baby pictures than money in his wallet and you cannot convince me otherwise.

-The same would be true for Leo, except he doesn’t really have a wallet because he tends to lose those a lot. Instead, he just puts stuff into his tool belt and hopefully one day it’ll reappear lmao. He’s got lots of pictures of her up in his workshop, though.

-Leo makes her the most ridiculously elaborate baby mobile ever. He works on it for days. There are so many moving parts and she’s obsessed with it.

-Toddler Sofía loves sleeping on her papá’s chest because he’s always warm. She’s like a cat curling up in a sunbeam. Will also take her gloves off in the winter to take his hand instead. 10/10 would recommend having a dad who also doubles as a heat lamp.

-Leo and Jason take turns telling her bedtime stories. Leo’s are often grand adventures that somehow manage to be both cool and almost completely nonsensical. He also does goofy voices for all the characters. Jason’s are heartfelt ones about found family and love, which tend to be… a lot more coherent than Leo’s. Sofía loves them an equal amount.

-Her dads are the most sickeningly in love people Sofía has ever met and she finds it so so annoying (she loves them dearly and they’ve been her go-to proof true love is real since she first encountered the concept in a movie). They’re holding hands grocery shopping and when they split up to go into different isles they’ll greet each other with a kiss like long-lost lovers returning from a voyage upon being reunited. They will constantly hit on each other in the cringiest way possible for absolutely no reason. It’s unbearable.

-Sofía gets told so many stories about her abuela. She thinks Esperanza was the absolutely coolest person ever and loves sharing a name with her. There’s a six month period when she’s little where she won’t respond to anything other than Espi.

-The only family member on Jason’s side of the family Sofía actually meets/knows about is Thalia. She has no idea who Beryl Grace is. She’s never even heard the last name Grace before (Thalia stopped using it a long time ago and obviously Jason took Leo’s last name when they got married.) The only thing she knows about Jupiter is that her family doesn’t like him.

-Because Jason never talks about his mom, and because Piper makes so many jokes about wolf genes, Sofía was genuinely convinced her abuela on her dad’s side was a wolf for the first several years of her life.

-Sofía and Leo build the fanciest pillow forts together that anyone has ever seen. The Waystation thankfully has lots of space for it. Sometimes when Jason comes back from work, exhausted, he’ll just collapse into the pillow fort and nap there, which inevitably results in him waking up in a Valdez family cuddle pile.

-Leo gets very invested in some of the cartoons Sofía watches. Will this whacky found family of animated cartoon princesses save the world again this week? Probably. But he needs to know for sure. They always have a great time.

-When Sofía is around eight, she gets really into puzzles. When she can’t sleep after a nightmare, doing puzzles in the middle of the night is Jason’s go-to way to make her feel better.

[angel---eater]

thinking about how my usual go-to intersex dirk is affected by cooercive gendering in both the beta and alpha timelines.... and just gender stuff in homestuck in general.... cause the timeframe really counts. where babydirk lands temporally really makes or breaks this guy and his rship with his body. dirk as a character is so concerned abt how others percieve him that he wears his interests and hobbies like leather armour. he wears the projected images other ppl have of him more than he just, yknow, is

dirk in the beta timeline wouldve been fostered and was CAMAB, but his puberty started doing Unexpected Things, so they took little bro to the doctor so he can have his manly male puberty 'fixed'. bro would spend his whole life directly under the thumb of hegemonic cismasculinity, and he would know that if he adjusted even an inch, just to shift his weight even a little, then he suddenly wouldnt be Man Enough. and the blowback for that would be terrifying for him. hed be being slowly suffocated by the adults in his life and lil cal constantly whispering into his ear. this would be part of bro's experience with being groomed for sure

dirk in the alpha timeline however would be a free range kid. he wouldve grown up basically genderless until he figured out how to peruse the dead internet and discovered what boys and girls as cisgender concepts were. alpha dirks problem wouldnt so much be that hes directly under the thumb of Cis Manhood, but bc hed be desperately chasing after the ghosts of communities long dead. hed be directionless. he assumes hes a boy, he feels like one a lot of the time, but is he really? he keeps finding conflicting information on what Being A Man is, what Being A Woman is, what being Anyone At All is. hed chase after cismasculinity bc itd just feel the most familiar to him. he'd fall into the traps chrisofacist gender rolls laid out for masculinity bc thered be no one around but himself and his own very fallable perspecetive on this stuff to help get him out of it. and roxy is in the exact same boat. theyd have no idea how to even START talking about this except through the pidgeonhole of compcis

and its interesting too cause there IS talk of gender in the alpha session, but its from calliope whos also very very very removed from human (and troll, bc theyre analogous in canon) gender in the first place, eerily similar to dirk and roxy and their particular brand of isolation from humanity**. callie very explicitly represents the side of fandom that is good-faith exploration of canon, but whos too married to their own fanon and always more biased towards it over canon. i love callie so much but shes my biased and unreliable queen haha. what she says about gender, esp supposed gender-locked classpect stuff, isnt nessicarily, actually true. and thats REALLY cool bc of course everyone is a little biased about gender stuff and trans theories. its so personal how can we not be yknow?? and we experience other ppl through our own lens, having even residual biases (just favouring pink moreso than blue for example, im not talking abt bigotry) is just really normal imo. callie's a really good example of this. she knows shes a girl and loves being a girl, as she fuckin should, so she holds a grain of bias towards femininity and womanhood

**normally i would include jake in The Social Isolation, but again, where the alpha kids landed temporally REALLY makes a difference. jake is also completely isolated but he has an active and current internet to dig through. i wanna explore jakes relationship w/ himself more often but my brain is so full of dirk and roxy and callie its, well, its bias LMAO

[literary-motif]

Hiiii!~ :DD I just can't believe no one has asked for this yet, but ISAAC AND PICKLE GARDENING TOGETHER!! <333 I think they would be just ADORABLE!! Maybe both of them will have a little picnic together near the lake... (I think Saku mentioned that he owned one...) Pickle making a flower crown for Isaac :33 And Isaac reminiscing about his mother!

Enjoy The Silence

Isaac Rhoades x Reader

Warnings: grief

Isaac was a little nervous. He was very nervous, actually. 

There was a strikingly clear reason why he always hired a gardener. There were two reasons, buried in the ground under the little blue flowers that grew by the headstones. 

Why he had agreed to this, he did not know. The thought of having you in the garden — the garden, the one where he had lost half his heart and the majority of his years alive — made his stomach clench in painful knots. It made him anxious, threatening to pull him into the very depths of a panic attack because only the possibility of losing you to a shot fired from the trees beyond made his eyes tear up as a painful lump formed in his throat.

You had asked him for it, though. You had suggested tending to the delicate blue flowers together — with your eyes glinting in compassion, begging him to allow you this grand gesture of affection that would ease his pain like the first time you had visited their graves together. 

His blood had frozen. The firm, absolute, and forever unchanging ‘no’ stuck on his tongue as he took in your expression of gentle hope. 

I can’t live my life trapped in this house, Isaac. I can’t, no matter how much I love you. 

He swallowed thickly and conceded. 

You had been so happy, turning the whole day into a little event to ease his mind from the heaviness of tending to the flowers growing on his family’s graves. There was a picnic basket, complete with a blanket, standing by in the kitchen for when you were done. The very idea of sitting outside — waiting like sitting ducks to be shot — made him shudder. 

He dreaded this day. He hated that he did. 

“Ready?” you asked, smiling brightly at him as you pulled on gloves for gardening. You had had many occasions to demonstrate your varying skill with plants, although you supposed ridding the flowers of weeds and trimming the bush a little was different from tending to houseplants. 

He stood staring at the front door, trying to hide the shaking of his hands. 

“Isaac?”

“Do we have to?” he whispered, the vulnerability seeping into his tone wiping the smile from your face. He sounded close to tears. “Do we have to? I— I’m so scared something might— might—”

You pulled off the gloves, letting them fall to the ground. “Hey, look at me,” you said, resting a hand on his cheek. Isaac turned to face you, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears of fear and, you supposed knowing him, shame as well. “We don’t have to do anything if it hurts you this much, sweetheart.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, leaning into your touch. “What if I can’t?” he croaked, tears escaping his eyes. “What if I’m never ready? What if this always happens? What if I can’t keep it together at the thought of us going outside? I— I don’t want to lose you. I can’t—”

“Isaac, look at me,” you requested, raising your other hand to his cheek as well. Your fingers played with the strands of hair at his temples, thumbs wiping away the tears trailing down his cheeks. When he slowly opened his eyes, searching your gaze with eyes full of sorrow, you continued, “It’s alright if you’re not ready. It’s okay. Overcoming trauma is hard, I get that — I know that. Healing takes a lot of time, love. The important thing is that you try, and I know you do. You’re so brave every day for me, love, and I will never leave you because of this. Alright? Never, Isaac. It doesn’t matter how long it takes, I know you are doing your best.”

“My best is not enough sometimes,” he admitted quietly, the words tasting like defeat. 

“Don’t even think that!”

“But it’s true! Look at me,” he cried, stepping away from your soft touch to bury his face in his hands. “I can’t even keep my word because I’m so scared. I— the fear feels like it’s eating me up, gnawing away and keeping me paralyzed. I’m forever stuck in this— this house because they are outside and I can’t— I can’t tear myself away and nowhere else is safe.”

Your heart shattered. “Come here,” you said, keeping your voice airily light. It cut through the spiral of his thoughts like a knife, and he crashed into your open arms as if they were his lifeline. You held onto him tightly, running your fingers through his hair in a gesture you knew helped him calm down. “Small steps, Isaac. Yeah?”

“Steps?” he asked incredulously, his voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “I’ve been immobile for years!”

“That’s not true, love. These things take time,” you said, listening to his breathing slowly even out. The tears stopped, although the patch of wetness on your shoulder would remain a moment longer. 

Isaac slowly raised his head, wiping at his eyes. “Sorry,” he said, his voice strained. He hesitated before retrieving his phone and checking the CCTV. “Just give me a moment, yeah?”

You blinked in surprise. “A moment for what?” you asked, already knowing the answer. 

“A moment to make sure nobody is there to— to hurt us. I checked already, but I want to make sure again before we go out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Pickle.”

“I don’t want to push you, Isaac. Maybe it’s best if we put this off—”

“No! I need to do this,” he said, his tone firm despite the tremor in his voice. “I need to! I can’t stand this anymore. I need to face this. I— I don’t feel ready, but— but I want to.” His eyes roamed over the footage, analyzing every rustling of leaves, checking for anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing. Isaac swallowed, closing his eyes to compose himself before plunging into his deepest fear. “You’ll stay by my side, yes?” 

Your gaze softened. “Of course,” you said, taking his hand and squeezing it reassuringly. “I promise.”

He bent down, picking up your gloves. “Alright,” he breathed, waiting for you to reappear at his side with the picnic basket and gardening tools in hand. “Alright, alright.” His hand hovered above the doorknob.

I want you to know your parents would have been proud of the man you have become, little one.

There was no big event. There was no gunshot — thank god. There was no sound out of the ordinary.

The birds continued chirping. The sun, although occasionally hidden behind a cloud, did not change color. Nothing changed at all as you both stepped outside. Isaac was weary, his eyes darting across the garden in search of something. He barely realized that he was outside at all, that he did it, with your hand tightly clasped in his while his other rested on the gun he couldn’t feel safe without.

“They don’t look so bad. I think a little trimming on the sides is all they need. Look, there are barely any weeds.”

Isaac looked down. After all these years, reading the names on the headstones still knocked the breath out of him. It was also the instance in which he realized — fully and without argument — that he was outside with the love of his life. The realization made him squeeze your hand harder, the feeling of having something incredibly valuable in a place where they were not safe was nearly enough to plunge him into a panic again. 

But he had also faced his fear. He had kept his word, well, half of it. The first step was done, now he only needed to follow the path. 

“You alright?”

He thought for a moment. “Yes,” he replied, surprised that he meant it despite his heart racing. “Do you want to trim or free them from the weeds?”

Gardening was surprisingly relaxing. You were carefully ridding the beautiful bush of flowers from its outreaching branches while Isaac plucked at the weeds growing beneath it on his knees. The conversation turned light, and for the first time in a decade, he forgot the overwhelming fear that came with being beneath a clear sky and allowed himself to chuckle fondly at something you said. 

He paused, practically feeling the flower petals glow with happiness. 

Yes, mom. I miss you too. It hurts every day that you’re not here — I miss you so much it burns a hole in my chest when I breathe. It has gotten easier with them. I love them, and I wish more than anything that you could have met the person who fills the void in my chest with love. I miss you every day. Tell Dad I miss him too and give Grandpa a big hug. I think I missed my chance when he was still here. I love you, take care.

“Isaac?”

He had not even realized that he was crying. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks in rivers that felt like they would never end. His hands were balled into fists, clutching at the earth beneath the flower bush, reminiscent of the time you had prompted him to talk to them for the first time. 

God, it still hurt so much. Why did it still hurt so much?

“I’m fine,” he said, wiping at his eyes. It was useless, the tears would not stop falling. “I— I haven’t— the flowers and— I miss them. I miss them so much.”

You knelt beside him, gathering him into your arms again. Isaac slumped against your side, his blurry vision rising towards the headstones with the names of his family. The sight made his lower lip wobble, the feeling of drowning in his grief and sorrow overwhelming. He thought he would have if you had not been there to hold him together. 

There was a reason he had never allowed himself to feel the extent of his pain when he was alone. He could not have born it. The misery and grief of his life would have crushed him, leaving him untethered in an unforgiving world with people who relied on him, expecting him to carry on his grandfather’s legacy like he had promised he would. 

He had never allowed himself to feel the extent of his loss, and now that he knew he could — no need to hide from it behind whiskey glasses and ceiling-high towers of paper — it devoured him whole. He let it because he knew you were there to anchor him.

The flowers were done, and once the sun had begun its descent and noon turned into late evening, you found yourself spread out on the picnic blanket by the lake, plucking the daisies with the longest stems as Isaac’s head rested on your thigh. 

He was eating one of the chocolate muffins you had baked, his tears long since dried. There was a slight downturn to his lips, betraying his somber thoughts despite the peaceful scenery around you. 

“She hated baking,” he admitted quietly. 

You halted your weaving, glancing at him. Instead of the bleak, sorrowful expression you had been expecting, there was a fond smile on his face. 

“I used to make cookies with my father. We would— we would spend hours decorating them with icing and putting little designs on them. My mother liked cooking. She— she tried teaching me, but I wasn’t very interested. I mean, I was a kid. I preferred baking, but— You know, I wish I would have listened to her more. I wish I— I had appreciated them all more and now—” he broke off with a sigh, the fond memory charing at the edges as he was reminded of the harsh reality that they were gone. He would never again roll out dough with his father, or listen to his mother’s gentle instructions on how to make the perfect Goya.

You finished the flower crown, turning it around in your hands before placing it on Isaac’s head gently. He looked up at you, the expression of melancholy fading as he gave you a sweet smile. 

“We’ll make the most of our time as well, love.”

[cloudysarts]

Hi there!!

I want to say that your “Mabel’s muse” Au concept has absolutely called my attention, Bill mentions multiple times (Dipper and Mabel’s guide to mystery and fun and TBOB) how he likes Mabel’s personality and wanted her to be his ally…sooo the idea of an alternative time where he decided to approach her and where she trusts him and considers him as her friend is absolutely full of potential

I just think about how many stuff would change and how bill would be a little more genuine with her as he for once isn’t pretending to be an all-wise being and having to constantly rise the ego of Genius minds…instead he just has to party with a teenager whose idea of fun is quite similar to his…he doesn’t have to be the “supreme being” for once just a silly fella in order to earn Mabel’s trust

Also about how some episodes would have to take a completely different route:

maybe “Mindscapers” wouldn’t even take place…because I doubt that Mabel would trust a Bill if he went inside Stan’s head

Bill possessing her during the “sock opera”episode instead of dipper

Also don’t get me started on “the last Mabelcorn” episode. All the angst and horror that Ford would feel when he finds out about the whole friendship with bill situation reflecting himself on Mabel and probably Dipper being the one who search for the unicorn hair while ford tries to convince her that Bill isn’t trustworthy

I apologize for my rant but I seriously love your idea and sorry if it’s a bit confusing English isn’t my first language

I hope you have a nice day and thank you for reading this silly thing!!

first of all, your english is great!! second of all, i am SO sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask, it just made me so happy that i wanted to take my time to craft a response!!!!!! :DDDD (context: for people who don't know what my 'mabels muse' au is, you can check it out over here!)

you are practically SPOT ON with my ideas for this au!!!!!! but i'm gonna briefly run through all the things you brought up!!

first of all, yes, absolutely!!!! for bill, partner-ing up with mabel was a very nice change of pace. he likes stroking the ego's of genius', just for his own amusement, but he doesnt get the THRILL of just getting to PLAY very often!! he's a very childish being, at the end of the day. he enables mabel's selfishness, while getting to indulge his own, silly passions right alongside her!! and obviously, mabel LOVES being enabled <3 i imagine most of the dreams he gives her would make any normal persons eyes bleed

as for your episode ideas, you're mostly right!!! :) mindscaperers does, in fact, NOT happen in this au. in my head, i imagine gideon trying to summon him, only for an 'I.O.U' to appear where bill should be. he's busy hanging out with his favorite pre-teen!!! so gideon skips straight to his backup plan, aka, gideon rises ^^

for sock opera, i'm still on the fence a little bit. one of the reasons bill is hanging out with her at all in this au is because, unlike in the regular timeline, this bill actively wants stanford to be brought home. the reason mabel is important to him, is because he can see timelines where she presses the button in not what he seems, and keeps him from returning. in his mind, he has the greatest shot of success if mabel doesn't press it. in this au, she doesnt even hesitate to trust stan, because she has another, trustworthy voice in her head, yelling DON'T PRESS THE BUTTON. its 2v1! ANYWAY, the reason any of that matters for sock opera, is because he wouldnt have any need to possess anyone, because he has no interest in smashing the laptop! BUT.....i can see him doing it anyway. i figure, most likely, he gets mabel to (willingly) let him use her body, so that she can work on her sock opera while her body sleeps. i just imagine a bill-possessed mabel up at 3 am, covered in hot glue and googly eyes as he tries to work it out shjdkfhjsdkf. but......honestly, he probably destroys the laptop in the process :) just to fuck with dipper <3 not that dipper ever finds out its her. he has no idea that mabel was ever possessed/has no reason to suspect her, because at this point, he still doesnt think bill is real. that is....until the last mabelcorn.

IN the last mabelcorn, mabel reveals to ford that she does recognize bill, and that he lives in her brain! she says it really excitedly, at the table, while dipper kind of just rolls his eyes about it. to her, its vindicating, because it's the first time anyone has ever acknowledged bills existence. but to ford, its HORRIFYING, because he knows it isn't just a coincidence. he knows he has to do something, but he doesn't know what, right away. this is where our ideas differ a little bit, because i think that mabel still WOULD be the one retrieving the unicorn hair! ford just didnt tell her what the hair was for. ford sends her off, because he wants to brainstorm a way to get him out of her head, preferably without hurting her/her memories. he also plans to bill-proof dippers mind in the process, just in case mabel is too far gone already. the events here happen basically the same (with minor tweaks), but instead of dipper suspecting that ford is evil/bill-possessed, this is where he finally learns that bill is real at all. ford tells him about his backstory, and explains the REAL reason he sent mabel out to get the unicorn hair, etc etc. he loves mabel a lot, but hes not sure how to go about dealing with this situation yet. its not HER fault she trusted bill, but he knew that if he just tries to tell her hes evil, she wont believe him. shes known 'her muse' longer, and as of right now, he's never lead her wrong. just like what happened to him in the past...

i wonder how mabel would feel if she only heard the end of that conversation...

[reylin-alloro]

Loved this idea so much decided to write it so here u go. Headcanons are not typically my thing but I don’t have the time to write a good storyline for each character so…

When Izuku first saw you he got really excited to know about you your quirk. It wasn't often that he met people with animalistic quirks, especially ones as cute as you.

When he actually decided to talk to you he bombarded you with questions such as: "Do you have two set of ears ?", "Do you have all wolf like abilities ?", "Are you sensitive to loud noises ?", "Do you need to howl at the moon ?", "Can you shapeshift ?"

It was nice that he was being considerate, so you two quickly became friends, and even started dating after a while, which was another excuse to ramble about your quirk and the different methods you could use.

He will often go out with on a morning run in the forest so that you can shapeshift without any disturbance, and you often end up making it into a race, but he obviously wins.

First time you ate with him for lunch he nearly fainted because you can eat raw bloody meat, and he didn't expect that.

He'll also sit with you on the balcony late at night with you and watch the moon. First time you ever did that you convinced him to howl at the moon and he got in trouble with Aizawa for waking him up.

You love cuddling with him because his hair is fluffy and it reminds you of fur so you like to nuzzle into his head. You've fallen asleep many times like this.

He bought you a stress plushie because he noticed you tend to scratch yourself or the furniture a lot when you're nervous.

When you two first met you had the honour of being nicknamed bitch by him. Well, only in his mind, he wasn't actually gonna call you that.

He ultimetely decided that werewolf sounded more pleasant and decided to call you that.

He had no idea that you can shapeshift since you never did that in training, and he didn't really hang out with you, so he genuienly thought he was high when everyone sat in the shared living room with a fricking wolf on the couch.

In like middle of second year you confessed for some reason, and he actually didn't know if he liked you, so he stood infront of you for a good couple of minutes and weighted his pros and cons (honestly I think Bakugo is the type of guy that doesn't catch feelings unless he dates the person, the word crush is not in his vocabulary)

He very much enjoyed your company and quickly started catching felings. He was the first one to say "I love you" cause he likes being straight to the point.

He is covered in bite marks. That's your love language. They go away over time, but honestly he doesn't mind having them, he looks badass like that.

He is an early bird kind of guy, unlike you, so you'll often find him staring at you while waking up, with the most serious expression that he can manage, until he says something like "You look like stray dog". On good days when he's feeling like pampering you he'll stay with you in bed and cudlle you.

One time he forgot his phone and went out somewhere so you tracked him down. At that moment he was so thankfull you weren't a villain, cause imagine trying to escape from someone who has kidnapping in their DNA.

He didn't really notice you at first, it was only after some of the class were lost in a nearby city and you litterally asked directions from a dog. He was flabergasted .

So naturally he started noticing all of your little mannerism. Like perking up your ears when you heard something exciting or folding them when you were nervous, sniffing an object that someone gives you to remember the scent, licking a sratch or a cut that you had.

Your first kiss was "in the heat of the moment" kind of thing, but neither of you were against it and so you started dating.

He definitely told about it to his family asap. He was proud to have you as a girlfriend and he wasn’t gonna let you go unnoticed.

When you two cuddle, you like to lay on his right side, cause you’re more of an antarctic wolf. And besides that he’ll often give you an ice cube so that you won’t overheat, it was a little habit that he developed when he noticed how hot it got for you.

On your free time you’ll watch just random videos and if it happens to have a canine he will force you to explain.

Compared to him you’re really hyperactive so you always try to calm down from rambling in a conversation or running when you two are on a walk.

When you shapeshift he likes to hold you in his arms like you would hold a cat. He likes how fluffy you are and likes to use you as a mini blanket while he does something

He obviously asked you out first day of school like the flirt he is. But not even like a romantic date, just to like hang after school.

You are both hyperactive so you clicked instantly and became besties. And thus the most cute friends to lovers began (oh I feel like writing about it in detail someday🤭)

When you two actually got together, he was utterly disappointed because he couldn’t cuddle you in your wolf form due to his quirk, but cuddling you in general is satisfying so he isn’t complaining much.

Honestly he isn’t very bothered or shocked by all your wolf mannerisms, he got used to it pretty quickly so the second time you’ll growl at something or bring bloody meat to the house he isn’t bothered by it.

He definitely uses nicknames like wolfie, or “my cute predator”. Either to make you laugh, or piss you off. He’s using it either way.

He’ll stay up late at night with you and study with you because that’s the time you’re most productive and he just wanna spend time with you.

If someone is annoying or rude he’ll definitely tell them something like “My girlfriend is gonna bite off your arm”

He will play with your tail when he has to fidget with something and you’re near him.

[lara-cairncross]

OKAY. SO. I just looked through the entire fairy au tag..I apologize for all the notifs .... bUT that being said, because I just looked at everything, I don't think any of this has been discussed much, so I have a few questions!! (This is actually a really long ask I apologize for that as well)

Do the turtles give gifts to April? I know there was talk about Donnie making like tiny versions of what he thinks are his own ideas and inventions for April to use, but do the other turtles ever make anything for her? I noticed like a vine kind of looking ring that she had in the size comparison with Leo, and I was wondering if that was given by one of the turtles, or if she already had it just because she would definitely make herself a little ring out of like flower stems or whatever. ALSO. ACTUALLY. It looks similar to what Mikey has around his arms and legs, sooooo ??? (And is that bracelet she has, also in that drawing, possibly from one of the turtles as well ?)

And, does she ever make anything for the turtles? AND AND AND does she ever make anything with the turtles? I feel like she would make things with Mikey, like jewelry and stuff idk

OH AND ALSO. I'm curious about Donnie's glasses. Because they are clearly different than Bobble's with the water drops, are Donnie's like glass or something? Like actual lenses or whatever?? Aaaand did he somehow make them himself, while not being able to see very well before making them, or did someone else help him with that? And how did he get the materials for them?

I realized I'm extra curious about Donnie (and his glasses specifically help-) and extra EXTRA curious about April's interactions with the turtles.... I'm wondering if you have any ideas about the kinds of stuff they do together? Whether just April and one of the turtles, or all five of them together, or any combination?

Anyway yeah that's it for now. I really really really really love this au and I will probably come back and ask more questions because RHAHWWSUWHSWHHSHWNWKEZJEJHRHEHFHGEGS they're my favourite silly goofy little guys fr!!!!

AHSHSHFHE PLEASE DONT APOLOGIZE FOR THE NOTIFS OR THE QUESTIONS !!! getting spammed makes me feel so loved mwah <3 I know this ask is from a while ago, but I remember seeing you all over my "activity" tab :DDD

Yes, the turtles all give gifts to April! she has SO many little trinkets laying around her cabin from the fairy boys, bc she never throws any of them out,,, even if a lot of them are kinda useless to her lmao (looking at Donnie's "inventions" for this one). The little flower stem ring around her finger is just something she made for herself (probably after one of the boys taught her, I'm thinking Mikey?), but the bracelet was intended to be a gift from Leo :D he finds all kinds of pretty rocks/gems/lost things around Neverland when he's making deliveries and finding materials and stuff. April gets a lot of old jewelry and seashells and things from Leo! Raph tends to give her little things that his animals have shed (pretty scales and feathers, maybe the occasional antler or talon?), and Mikey will just. Fill her house with flowers. And not, like, cut flowers-- just CLUMPS of dirt and roots all over April's counters. All the boys will help him do it too, and April feels too bad to tell them to stop HAH

2. Most of what April "makes" for the turtles is just various human dishes that they want to try! She gets a bunch of weird snacks for them too-- like, can you imagine a fairy trying a Taki for the first time? A SOUR PATCH KID??? Donnie drinks one single drop of hot sauce and dies immediately lmao. She doesn't really make them gifts, but she'll buy Donnie whatever cool human materials she thinks he can make something out of (more on that later--), and she'll get specific video games and phone apps and movies that she thinks the boys will like!! And maybe the occasional bigger gift, like a stuffed animal for Rose :) ALSO YES she would totally make flower crowns and rings and stuff with Mikey!! gotta do smth with all the flowers he's dumping in her living room rip

3. FUN FACT ABOUT DONNIES GLASSES (I've been waiting for someone to ask about this--): He started off with glasses/goggles that were similar to Bobble's water-drop ones!!! He only figured out to make glasses with actual lenses once he met April, and got to study HER glasses! His own glasses are made of, like, cheap magnifying lenses April bought him, and he cut them down to size :DD The metal on his goggles/shell/glasses is all also stuff that April bought for him-- probably like, wire of different sizes. She gets him a lot of human materials to play around with hehe

4. Group activities with the boys + April can be anything, really. Her family's cabin is kinda in the middle of nowhere, and April is a city girl at heart, so sometimes the boys will force her to go hiking or exploring in the woods with them :D She hated it at first, but as time goes on, she gets more used to the bugs and the wildlife and everything-- especially since Raph and Leo will do their best to scout out routes beforehand so she doesn't get freaked out by anything. Movie nights are also really common! So are video games, to an extent? But it takes basically all four turtles to maneuver one X-box controller, so it's a little more rare lmao. April definitely wins 90% of the time.

5. As for individual activities-- those are also a bit more rare. The two boys April interacts with one-on-one (or two-on-one) the most are Leo and Mikey, since they're usually the least busy, and Leo can fast-fly them to April's cabin and back really quickly. Typically though, Leo doesn't go to the cabin unless all five of them are available to meet up!

(...although Leo starts bringing Mikey more often once Mikey loses his job. teehee.)

AHHEHFHER THANK YOU FOR ASKING SO MANY QUESTIONS!!!!! I loveeeeee getting to worldbuild a bit :DDD I STILL CANT BELIEVE PEOPLE ARE INTERESTED IN THIS LIKE THATS CRAZY TO ME LMAO

let me know if you have any more questions! thanks bby <3

[nthspecialll]

You are literally the best rdr account ever fr, your rants are not biased at all and i love it. Because some ppl rly should drop their ranting bcs it's obvious that they are more talking about their imagination about that character than actual facts.

I am so glad you think so because I sometimes noticed that too. From time to time it feels like people have an idea of a character and try to make the game fit around that rather than actually make the game sculp the character. That sounded very messy so: They make the evidence try to fit the result they want rather than letting the evidence form the result. And to be honest I think that is a little... Well offensive to the developers?

I am a writer, I write books and if someone tried to discard part of a character I spent years making because they felt like it, I think I would get annoyed, I even get annoyed reading it. Like it is fine if it is just jokes ya know? Like "Kieran is just a baby" as a joke but also being able to see that there is so much more to him, that is fine, but if you just refuse to acknowledge that there is more... No.

Another thing is glorification, I do not like people glorifying characters, again not as a joke, I think it is like ignoring a whole part of the character, the "mean" part of the character. Take Javier, I love Javier, he has so many nice and sweet sides, but I also know he is an asshole in chapter 6, that said I know people are not assholes for no reason, I know Javier had a reason to act the way he did. Do I think him acting like an asshole is a-okay? No, but I also know that there is nuance to it.

I have also seen it the other way around, where people make a character worse than they are? Like especially the women of the game, but also Javier and Bill. Again, dismissing part of a character that someone has put sweat, tears and blood into is not okay.

Media literacy is also a massive thing in this game because it is a historically accurate game in so many ways, and again, people who intentionally dismissive it because "Oh I wouldn't do that" are blind to history, because of course you wouldn't, you grew up in modern days with modern ideals and you got internet to educate yourself outside of whatever ideals and things were put into your head by those immediately around you.

I always strive to get as much information about characters as I can, to show both sides and to find out why do characters do what they do even if I don't agree with it. I remember when I learned that Javier did in fact point his gun at John and I at first got annoyed but then I caught myself and was like "that is fucking stupid ignoring it, face it and find out why."

To clarify, I am not shitting on people making jokes about characters, I do it too, nor am I shitting on people who does not have all information (I am not telling them to go research everything and "oh they must know every small detail to even speak about this character"), I am not shitting on people who have different opinions on characters, I am shitting on the people who chose to ignore parts of characters because that fits their narritive.

These characters are wildly deep and complex, allow them to be, and I know some people are going to say "oh that is so dramatic" and maybe, but that is my opion and if you don't agree just scroll, I am not forcing you to be here.

If you read all that, thank you! Here is a pic of Javier because I love him:

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Can you write fuego with a pregnant wife?

Hi!

I thought that I had done quite a few of them, but... apparently not ^^' Admittedly I took some inspo from my own long fic (aka Embers -series) for this, and basically used a scene as a basis. Anyways, hopefully you like it ^^

Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader Genre: Romance/fluff Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~0.9k Contains: pregnant reader, marriage mention, Fue gets kicked by the baby in the face, a lot of fluffy feels

Fuegoleon had always deemed himself to be a family man. Granted that he has other aspirations as well, and hadn’t had a partner for such a long time, which was why such a status and aspect of his life had been placed on the backburner for the time being.

Not that it had particularly stopped thinking about the future, and the family he might like to have. A wife. Kids. Maybe a few. One was too few for his liking, but he wouldn’t push for more if his partner so wished.

It was a personal preference if nothing else.

But. It had existed in a daydream for a time longer than he could tell.

Until he had met you.

Not that the images had flashed through his mind clear as day from the very first moment he had laid his eyes upon you, but rather… it was like a gentle, comforting sensation. The knowledge that this… this would be it. With you he could go on to build something.

What he had felt, was a kind of familiarity. Like this was how it was supposed to be, and nothing less would suffice.

A part of him wanted to rush. To just move together. Get married. And have the titles of husband and wife. But another part of him held back. Because that seemed more courteous. Something that one does. Bids their time and takes slow, tentative steps to the ever after. Not marry the woman he met less than a year ago.

Though people did do that.

But people, aside of royalty, were more free to make such actions. And he didn’t wish to place such scrutiny onto the two of you. Because it would just be unwanted attention. Rumours of a bastard child possibly.

Senseless gossip.

Attempts to tarnish a reputation.

No matter how displeased even the mere idea of it made him, he chose to abide the customs. Little steps. One by one. And yet with each day he tried to show his devotion, even if with words, scattered here and there, a passing touch, lingering gaze. Some if which came without a thought, because it, too, was easy; as natural as breathing.

And now…

As you sat there, in the arm chair with rings in your ring finger, and a baby bump on your tummy, he couldn’t help but smile.

Because it was his whole world that existed in that chair. And he made a point to cherish the moments where he could know, with absolute certainty, where the two of you were; away from harm and trouble. In the sanctity of your shared living quarters.

“Come here,” you told him with a whisper while stroking your stomach.

He perked up, eyes opening just a little wider, as he made his way across the room and crouched by your chair.

“The baby is kicking,” your tone was hushed, delicate and tender, as if you were speaking out a secret that was only for the two of you to know.

His eyes shifted between your expression, gorgeous and loving like the first rays of dawn, to the little bump in which your precious child resided.

He placed his hand onto your stomach, and waited.

Waited for a moment longer, eyes attentive and curious.

“Come on,” you cooed. “No need to be shy, kick some for dad too.”

‘Dad’… he thought as the corners of his lips tugged further up.

One of the most esteemed titles he could be granted.

“Come on,” you encouraged again, as if your child could hear. But… somehow it didn’t seem to make a difference, if they could, or could not. After all, they didn’t have the language to comprehend for a good while still. So, you were speaking because… speaking to your own child was one of the most natural things to do.

Your precious miracle.

“It’s alright,” he chuckled and pressed his cheek against your tummy. “You are far better acquainted with your mother,” he mused while closing his eyes. “But I can’t wait to meet you to-“

*Bump*

A kick right to his nose.

He jolted back.

You raised your hand to cover your mouth.

“Feisty,” he said while holding onto his nose. “And packs a punch already.”

There was a laugh that flowed from your lungs; equally amused and concerned.

“Are you okay?” You asked while placing your hand onto his shoulder.

“I am,” he chuckled before placing his cheek against your stomach again. “It seems we’re having a true Vermillion here,” he mused to himself with a wide smile again. “But no kicking or punching your mother,” he told, sternly, to your bump and the child. “Understood?” He quirked an eyebrow.

And… almost as if to reply, there was another kick, but this time against his hand. A much softer one this time.

“Good,” he smiled while closing his eyes.

You placed your hand onto his head, and let your fingers stroke through his silken hair, as your eyelids closed half way at the tender sight before you.

Because this… this really was him, at his happiest. While holding you, and being held by you; when he was with his family.

[nekohime19]

Neko Shadowpeach Au Guide!

I have so many Shadowpeach Au I can't even 😭

This post is mainly for me to organize myself bc I'm beginning to have a lot of ideas for Au, and a lot of Au in general and I need to write that somewhere or I'm gonna get lost.

But also it's to let you guys know about future Au I would probably write and see if you like them.

Of course if you guys have any questions about any of my Au's, even the unpublished one, feel free to ask.

alright here we go :

Published

Monkeys silly love life :

Summary : Macaque never met the great sage, nor the brotherhood, he simply lived like a hermit until his lantern was stolen by a thrall. He finds himself coming to Megapolis in search of his lantern, there he meets MK, his friends and one particularly insistent golden-furred monkey who seems keen on flirting with him despite the Lady Bone Demon taking over the world.

Fic : series of three fic on Ao3

Who said you can't flirt in an apocalypse?

Monkeys discovering the wide world of dating.

I know the world is ending but will you marry me?

Status : all fics completed

Vibe : fluff and humor

Heart behind the lie :

Summary : Sun Wukong's mind is severely damaged by the Lady Bone Demon's possession, leading him to act like a beast. Macaque being the only person he trusts in this state, he is designated as his babysitter. Macaque refuses at first but then finds himself needing magic to survive and decides to accept being a babysitter to better steal Sun Wukong's magic. He might became more attached than he planned for.

Fic : fic on Ao3 + being published on Tumblr with two chapters a day

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : emotional angst, feels and fluff

Publishing day : At least once a week

Mini Mac :

Summary : One day Sun Wukong discovers that a little black-furred monkey had been living in the walls of his stone mansion and decides to befriend him. Problem is, the little black-furred beauty is not keen on deepening his relationship with him, thus the sage has to gain his trust first.

Fic : one fic on Tumblr and Ao3

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : fluff, humor and very light angst

Publishing day : Two to three chapters a week

Bimawen :

Summary : What if Heaven actually gave weight to the title of Bimawen and treated Sun Wukong with respect, even if reluctant? Sun Wukong would have never gone on a rampage and quietly taken care of the horses. Years after Sun Wukong has taken his horsley duties Heaven found another celestial monkey, the Six-eared Macaque causing mayhem in the mortal world. The macaque is judged and if he wants to avoid his execution, he has to become the bimawen's assistant. The problem is the monkeys don't really like each other.

Fic : one on Ao3 and Tumblr

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : fluff, humor and feels / JTTW oriented

Publishing day : Once to twice a month (often more bc I'm inspired)

Share my glow (co-writing with Pen-Women)

Summary : Macaque never met Wukong in his life. He is known as the Shadow Weaver, a mysterious entity who guides the one lost in the night. His lantern is the last artifact LBD needs to complete her mech and take over the world. When his forest is frozen by the Thrall he has no choice but to follow a troublesome team of heroes with a particularly flirty Monkey King.

Fic : one in Ao3

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : fluff and angst / ABO

Publishing day : Once a week (every Sunday)

Unpublished

So here is are my ideas for different Au's! Of course, bc those are still ideas in working, summaries might change a lil bit when I actually write them. Idk if I'll write them all though. They're classed from the one I want to write the most after I'm finished with Heart behind the lie and Mini Mac to ideas in passing.

1) Love Addicts :

Summary : Macaque and Sun Wukong find themselves feeling miserable after season 5. MK lost his powers when he jumped in the pillar, and both monkeys can't help but feel guilty. Sun Wukong then stumbles upon an odd door in his treasure trove and discovers the existence of a bar selling love potions. Despite hating each other, both monkeys decides to drink one potion to recover some sort of happiness, letting themselves be in love for one week. They take another one after the end of this first week and soon become addicted to the taste of love, even if this love is fake.

Fic : will be on Ao3 (debating if I'm gonna add it to Tumblr)

Status : unwritten / I'm planning this one after Heart behind the lie

Vibe : angst, fluff and feel, smut

Die-Hard fan :

Summary : Sun Wukong took the throne of the Jade Emperor after the attack on Heavens orchestrated by the brotherhood. While at first were glad to be free of Heaven's corruption they soon began to fear the whims of their new ruler. Sun Wukong is a beast of pleasure who does nothing but indulges his needs, either in food or treasures, and kills those who doesn't agree with him. One day, he stumbles upon the most famous entertainer of the mortal world, the Six-eared Macaque, and became a die-hard fan. Now determined to be someone Macaque would like, Sun Wukong has to change all his ways and learns to be a good King.

Fic : will be on Ao3 and Tumblr

Status : unwritten / Planning this after Mini Mac

Vibe : fluff and humor

Monkey Cop Mania :

Summary : Both monkeys find themselves being transported to a movie-like dimension in which Sun Wukong is the insanely famous Monkey Cop and Macaque a world-wide known thief accused of murder. If they want to get back to their own dimension, they have to solve a murder and finish the movie's scenario. Problem is neither mystic monkeys turn out to be great detectives.

Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3

Status : unwritten

Vibe : Humor and feels

Once upon a monkey

Summary : various long one shots of shadowpeach being in different fairy tales.

How to bewitch the witch : Wukong is the prince of the Sun Kingdom and falls in love with the cruel sea witch, Macaque, while said witch was destroying his wedding with the mermaid prince, Azure. Once Azure returns to his kingdom and their wedding falls void, Wukong does everything in his power to court Macaque. Turns out, courting a sea witch is quite difficult.

The strongest of them all : Macaque is a magic mirror with the ability to hear past, present and future terribly in love with his owner, the King Sun Wukong. One day Sun Wukong learns that he's not the strongest anymore, but that he's step-son, MK, is. Macaque, after listening to the future, fears for his King and tries to better the relationship between MK and Wukong.

Fighting Beauty : Macaque is prince Sun Wukong personal guard, in charge of guarding him until his betrothed comes to rescue him from the sleeping spell casted upon him. Things get awkward when Macaque awakens Sun Wukong on his first night on duty. Sun Wukong, impatient as ever, decides to slay the dragon himself and not wait on his betrothed, Macaque is dragged in the quest despite himself.

Midnight Illusion : Macaque is at day the mistreated step-son of the Lady Bone Demon, and at night the leader of the most fearsome thieves of the Sun Kingdom. He's unfortunately caught by the royal guard in the middle of a thievery. He's given two choices by the Sun King himself : either spend the rest of his life in prison, or spy on his own step-mother while also pretending to be the Sun King betrothed. Naturally, he chose the second option.

The Mage and the Monkey : Sun Wukong is cursed by the wandering mage, Macaque, after refusing to give him shelter on a stormy night. He's now the Monkey King, and he'll stay in this beastly form as long as he cannot find true love, according to the Mage, at least. But Sun Wukong is not one to stay idle, he finds the Mage huts after a lot of searching, and bugs him everyday to undo the curse. Macaque is tempted to accept, only because Sun Wukong is getting annoying.

Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3

Status : unwritten / rough ideas really

Vibe : Humor and fluff and angst

Narcissist :

Summary : Sun Wukong was lonely. He felt like there was a wedge between him and the world, that no-one could ever understand him. Even his successor couldn't hope to breach his shell. Pushed by his loneliness, Wukong stole a forbidden book from the gods with the vilest spells written in it and bring his shadow to life.

Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3

Status : unwritten / very rough idea

Vibe : angst, fluff and horror (Mac being an eldritch horror)

I'll add Au's to this guide if I have any more that I think of, but that's all for now.

[styx142]

Okay so like, I've been thinking about an Adventure Time teacher AU and why does it work weirdly well???

Here's the current staff list

Finn: Gym coach who's currently also working as a math teacher due to a shortage of staff and the previous one (Billy maybe?) quitting. He's absolute shit at math but he's super excited about it all the time so the students love him anyway.

Jake: At first I was thinking gym coach too, but I feel like he'd be a great counselor honestly. He's constantly advising his brother and I think he'd work well

BMO: The computer teacher! Kinda obvious but yeah

Neptr: Robotics/engineering teacher. Due to the nature of their jobs, BMO and Neptr work pretty closely together. Neptr loves this, BMO not as much.

Princess Bubblegum: The science teacher who is kind of running the place at times, because the principal won't do anything so she's decided to do what she can to keep this place running smoothly.

Marceline: The band director. She is 100% playing pranks on her students all the time. Also whenever the band is practicing she is standing on her band tower with a little umbrella or something for sun protection.

LSP: Drama teacher. Kinda obvious, she's already directed a play in the show so she works well as a drama teacher.

Simon/Ice King: History teacher! I got the idea from my AP world history teacher whose classroom is packed full of artifacts and replicas from different cultures throughout the world. Figured it'd be fitting for Simon

Flame Princess: English teacher. My whole thought proccess was "freestyle rap. Creative. Poetry. English?" and I think it works well. Her dad was the previous English teacher who left to open a chipmunk sanctuary.

Lady Rainicorn: I was thinking either art or Korean, leaning more towards Korean simply because I have another idea for the art teacher.

Jermaine: Art teacher!

Lemongrab: Psychology. This man has such a weird brain that I think it'd be fun to have him teach this. I can imagine him writing office referrals that just say "UNACCEPTABLE" on them

Fern: The new math teacher who shows up halfway through the year and has to deal with all the students complaining about missing Mr. Mertens.

Betty: Another character who shows up sometime later during the year. She'll be our principal, taking over for the previous principal who quit mysteriously.

Prismo: Vice principal, kinda bad at it and doesn't know how he got the job

Scarab: an admin who was hoping for vice principal and was really pissed when Prismo got the job instead of him

Golb: The principal

The lich: Previous vice principal who was fired for unknown reasons. Fired at the same time Billy quit.

Peppermint butler: I can't decide whether I want him as a student or as a secretary or just as someone who works in the office

I think I'll have all the candy citizens as students, as well as probably some minor characters who get a few appearances or only one episode.

This is partially why I originally wanted PB as the principal, but I found it funnier to have her as the teacher who is going insane because Golb will not do shit for the school.

I'm considering turning this whole thing into a fic, possibly focusing on PB? Possibly a bubbline fic? Not sure quite yet, this AU is still very much in development