#naera raumon

[midnight-bay-if]

(Sorry if I sent this ask twice I wasn’t sure if I sent it in or not and if I did I’m currently gaslighting myself that I didn’t lol)

Anyways!

How would the ROs react (both crushing and dating) to a MC looking bittersweetly at someone else getting flowers. And when they ask what’s wrong, MC says that no one has ever gotten them flowers before.

(It's okay, anon. You did already send it in, but I don't mind :) Also, I know you said both crushing and dating stages, but I chose which stage would be most interesting for each RO. Hope this is okay!)

S (crushing): Their tongue is running away from their head--sometimes, after a chaotic morning of wrangling Taj and Rain, they need to vent, and you have always been a sympathetic ear. "Taj has an unfortunate tendency to pester Rain after being forced out of bed--" They stop, recognising your attention has deviated, no longer nodding along with them. They follow your eyes to a nearby couple exchanging flowers with bright expressions.

"They are pretty," Selby probes gently.

"Nobody has ever bought me flowers before."

Well, that certainly will not do. "Excuse me a moment."

You watch as they turn on their heel and jog toward the flower shop the couple just exited. Your eyes widen when they return with the largest bouquet of deep red roses you have ever seen. "Forgive my tardiness," they say, bending forward in a bow as they hand them to you. "I hope you do not consider this too presumptuous, but you have only expedited my plans, not defined them; I will surprise you with the next."

Rain (crushing): You whispered the confession after a long night of binge-watching old soap operas together on the couch. A man courting his neighbour knocks on her door with flowers bought from the local corner shop. You sigh wistfully, bemoaning the lack of flowers in your own life. Rain's heart thuds and they realise this is something they wish to rectify. But here, it is viewed as a largely romantic gesture... would you even want to receive flowers from them?

The next day, Rain waits for you to return to your apartment with bated breath. After spending the day wandering the town for the most beautiful wildflowers, they came home and began to weave. As you open the door, they hold up a carefully crafted flower crown with flowers of your favourite colours.

"I-I know it's not the same, but... I hope you like it."

Taj (dating): Taj scoffs as you pass the sickly, sweet couple; their nose twinges when the pollen from the flowers they exchange crawls up them, the scent enough to make them cringe. They turn to you, ready with a harsh word to ridicule them, when they catch you glancing forlornly back at them as you pass.

"What's wrong with you?" They ask testily.

"Oh, nothing; nobody has bought me flowers before."

Taj scowls. Their instinct is to ask why you would care; flowers die quickly when cut. Any manipulator could walk into a gas station, pick up a cheap bouquet of flowers, and be in their lover's good books for a week. But, for once, they keep their mouth closed. Even if it's not something they understand, your face tells them it would make you happy.

But rather than waste their money on dying flowers, they think of the next best thing. For two nights straight, they stay up, folding coloured pieces of card, book open in their lap as they create the perfect undying bouquet. They slice their finger more than once, cussing out the air as they perfectly align their origami flowers.

When you come home, they present your paper flowers, cheeks burning, and fingers covered in plasters. "I will never fold another piece of paper again."

N (dating): N used to scoff at the demons that made such obvious romantic overtures with their victims. That's what they were, after all. Victims. There's absolutely no way these demons felt genuine affection for these people. Their grand gestures were simply traps to ensure the continued cooperation of the human. Demons were incapable of love.

Which does nothing to explain their continued loitering in your life. Their reason for finding you ceased to be an issue quite some time ago. Sure, perhaps your mental entanglements have them on a leash somewhat, but they would be lying if they said it is impossible to snap such a tether. They could seek a way if they wished.

When you so longingly stare at a couple exchanging flowers with obvious envy... It doesn't displease them to think you may share such a glance with them.

N thinks on all the grand gestures they have witnessed in their time, and as usual, they do not wish to settle for second best.

You return to your apartment after a few hours away, a strong floral scent hitting you as soon as you open the door. The floor is lit up with a line of candles, deep red petals scattered between them. You follow the trail across your apartment to your bedroom door. You push it ajar, light spilling in, the scent growing stronger. N lounges on your bed, a rose pinched between their forefinger and thumb, large rose bushes of every colour filling the room.

"I hope these are to your liking, my dear."

Umbra (crushing): Umbra prefers walking when the sky is grey. The overcast weather may accentuate their pale skin, but they always feel it suits them more. Nothing could detract from your shine, but their shadows are vast and looming... the larger your light, the greater the shadow they cast. So, they were grateful you suggested window shopping while the weather was dull.

A moment for you and them.

You pass a flower shop, your eyes drawn to its interior as if magnetised. A couple exits as you step up to the glass. A woman stares down happily at the bouquet in her hands, and Umbra thinks their heart might be harder if it were capable. They turn to you, hoping to share in the blissful moment, but your eyes appear sad.

"What's wrong?"

"Nobody has given me flowers before."

Umbra gasps, and their brow furrows. This is not okay. This needs to be fixed.

Without hesitation, Umbra turns on their heel and storms towards the couple, manoeuvres in front of them and snatches the flowers out of the woman's hand. Then, without a word, runs towards you, waving the bouquet in the air with a massive grin.

"MC! I got you flowers!"

(I'm not gonna lie... I cracked myself up with this one.)

[midnight-bay-if]

What would the ROs do if they woke up to find the mc had left the room to sleep like on the couch or something because they didn’t want to wake the ROs up with nightmares?

S: Their eyes flutter open, noticing the hand they rested on your waist now clutches the cold sheets where you once lay. They do not hesitate to search for you but are stricken by what they find. You, curled into a ball on the couch, whimpering in fear from whatever haunts your dreams. It's a familiar picture, and it pains them that you feel obligated to bear it alone when you have been so gracious with their own nightmares.

Without a word, S carefully manoeuvres themselves on the couch so their chest is pressed against your back. They slide one arm under your head while the other cradles your arm, intertwining your fingers in theirs. "Do not isolate yourself needlessly, darling," they whisper, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "We are aware of one another's darkness, yet here we remain. Please, do not starve me of my strength."

Rain: Rain is a light sleeper, so the moment the mattress rises from the lack of weight, their eyes flutter open to find you perched on the edge, readying yourself to leave. Before you can move, however, Rain reaches out, laying their hand atop yours, tugging your attention.

"Can't sleep?" They ask with a bleary smile.

"Nightmare," you repeat wearily, "It's okay. Go back to sleep. I'm going to sleep on the couch."

Rain's brow furrows, their lips thinning into a displeased frown. "Please stay. I don't like sleeping alone, you know?" They lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand that they hold. "If you are concerned about your nightmares keeping me awake, you needn't be. When alone, I do not sleep at all. I finally rest when I am beside you. Stay."

Taj: It takes until the morning for Taj to realise you sneaked out of bed in the night. Expecting to gather you in their arms the moment their eyes open, they are disappointed to find your side of the bed long cold. Grousing, they drag themselves out of bed to go hunt for you. They find you already in the kitchen making a pot of coffee, dishevelled hair and dark circles under your eyes.

"Didn't sleep well?" Taj queries, a cold stare you recognise all too well. It's the look of being perceived.

You shrug, trying to play off what you know they have already seen. "Nightmare," you offer, a slither of the truth, "but I didn't want to disturb you, so I tried sleeping on the couch."

Taj snarls, closing the distance and wraps their arms around your waist, resting their chin on your shoulder. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Pretend. I hate it." Their breath hitches. "I didn't even realise you were gone. I hate that, too. Wake me next time."

"You know you hate it when I wake you."

"Not if you're scared. Not if you need me."

N: N stretches their limbs, cursing the crick in their back as equally as the hard lumps in your mattress. They really must convince you to purchase something a little more luxurious. You'll thank them later. Their eyes flutter open, expecting to see you pressed closely to them, your rhythmic breathing lulling them sweetly back to sleep. But you are gone. Instinctively, they want to reach out with their mind to locate you, but they push it back down. Boundaries.

It's still dark, but N has no problem navigating it. The apartment is small, so figuring out where you have gone doesn't take a genius. Moments later, they find you curled into a ball, shivering and whimpering in your sleep. They tut, shaking their heads.

"I really wish you would ask for help, my dear," they whisper to themselves, kneeling until they are level with you. They press a hand to your forehead, allowing some of their warmth to seep into your skin. "Allow me to lay to rest whatever is troubling you inside that noggin' of yours, love, or at least let me stand beside you. Do not hide from me."

Umbra: Usually, Umbra spends their nights curled up at your window or lying beside you, guarding your sleep against those who might impose. It mostly depends on you. They like watching you fall asleep pressed against them because sometimes, on occasion, they allow their own eyes to shut. They do not need to, but being with you inspires hopes of ordinary domesticity; it reminds them to live.

But it never lasts long. The moment you shift in your sleep, and the fidgeting and the whimpering starts, Umbra is awake and alert. They once asked S what they might do to help in such a situation, but there is no magic cure, just reassurance. "I am here," they whisper, unsure if you can hear. "You are safe. You are safe." The words are a safety net they sometimes question whether they know how to wield.

You wake with a start, shoving yourself to the other side of the bed, chest heaving and hands shaking. You stare at Umbra, eyes wide, fear gripping your throat. "I'm sorry. Did I disturb you?"

"No," Umbra replies simply. "You never could."

"Would you prefer me to sleep elsewhere?"

"Why would I prefer that?" They query, cocking their head to one side. "I cannot protect you if you are anywhere else."

(Hopefully this was okay!)

[midnight-bay-if]

Crushing!ROs reactions' to the first time they see the usually-grungy MC all fancied up?

S: Their eyes wander to yours, and all movement, aside from their shaky intake of breath, stops. The fancy baubles and expensive materials are mere decorations for your magnificence, but every feeling you have ever evoked demands they bear witness to you now. You are resplendent.

They cough, averting their eyes to prevent staring. "You never fail to surprise me."

Rain: They never placed much stock in appearances. People looked the way they looked until they didn't. That's just how they saw it. Then, you walk in dressed so intricately, and they forget how to breathe. You look like a painting; breathtaking, iridescent, a masterwork. Rain itches to grab their paints and put colour to the memory, so they never forget when your eyes met theirs.

"I... I don't think there's going to be a person in this place whose eyes don't stray to you tonight..."

Taj: They don't care what you wear; they care more about how stupidly long the wait has been for you to make yourself presentable. Then, they see you, and the ache in their feet vanishes instantly, and their ears twitch as their stomach churns uneasily. Suddenly, you feel so far out of their reach that it brings them shame.

"For what it's worth," Taj states before their nerves can silence them, "I don't think you need to be fancy to turn heads... You do it well enough already. Ask me to repeat that, and you'll regret it."

N: They have waited for this moment with trepidation. You allure them well enough without needing extravagant detail, but N has always desired the finer things in life. Upon hearing of the excuse to play dress-up, N was practically flinging you into a changing room to get started.

The moment their eyes meet yours, they are besotted. Their elegant lines of clothing only accentuate what they already knew existed beneath. So much of you had been hidden before; now they see it all plainly, and it utterly seduces them. What a fool they must be.

"You are a spectacle, my dear. I hope you will stay close; I would hate to have to share you this evening."

Umbra: Clothing is practical; it has uses. They weren't aware clothing could also be a statement until you revealed yourself entirely changed. They don't understand why their ice-cold heart begins to thaw upon the sight. You are wonderful. They have thought so since your tiny hand reached for them in darkness, an outreach of kindness despite their bloodied blade.

They saw you then. They see you now. You are wonderful.

"I am afraid my darkness might cast a shadow on your shine, MC. But allow me to bask in it a moment longer, at least."

[midnight-bay-if]

Ro's reaction to MC who teasingly leans in to give them a kiss on the lips.... only to kiss them on the cheek on purpose *cough* on accident

S: They wait readily for the moment your lips press against their own, leaning forward in anticipation, only for you to artfully dodge their advance and kiss their cheek instead. Not wasting a moment, S reaches up to grasp your chin in their hand, firm enough to keep you still but not enough to restrain should you wish to break free.

"This will simply not do,” they mutter, leaning close enough to count the shades of colour in your eyes. “Now you have tantalised me, and I can be demanding when lured. Do not leave me wanting, darling."

Rain: They are smiling. A smile that quickly falls upon the location of your lips changing direction. They do not let you move far. Before you have even fully basked in their reaction, they are chasing you with their lips. You laugh, dodge, laugh again, and ultimately surrender to Rain's attack, letting them press a soft kiss to your lips.

"There," they whisper, pulling back barely a hair's breadth, "I used to be too afraid of the chase, MC, but no more."

Taj: They feel stupid for having waited for it. You leaned forward as usual; nothing about your body language suggested mischief, but it should have. The quick kiss on the cheek should have been sweet, but it wasn't enough. They want more. They swipe out a hand, fingers curling over the delicate line of your wrist to hold you in place. They bring your hand up against their chest, resting it against their beating heart.

"I've never enjoyed being teased, Koel," they mumble, ears twitching.

"Liar."

N: It's a game they play well. The kiss on the cheek does not come as a surprise, and N is already planning their next move. They smile languidly, their cheek resting on their hand, waiting for you to move again. And you do. You lean forward closer, readying yourself to relent to their waiting lips. They don't give you a chance. They lean to the side, pulling back just out of reach. Your sigh of frustration is music to their ears, and they laugh.

"I'm sorry, my dear, I could not resist..." This time, they initiate the advance, cupping your face and neck to keep you steady. "Allow me the chance to apologise properly."

Umbra: At first, they don't realise you are being playful. They see you tug on their sleeve, gesturing for them to lean forward slightly, so they do. They think you mean to tell them something, something for their ears alone. Instead, you gently kiss their cheek and pull back with a cheeky grin. But Umbra is still there. Still in the moment of your lips pressing against the cold expanse of skin.

They reach up, hands trembling, as they press the tips of their fingers against the heat of the spot your lips just were. "What did I do to earn that?”

[midnight-bay-if]

How would the ROs react if a drunk MC, when they are already dating each other, go to them and ask if they are single? As MC is trying to flirt with them.

Bonus: if RO say they are NOT single, since they are in a relationship with MC, the same starts to cry a LOT because they feel like they just lost their soulmate.

(I had to leave out the bonus suggestion for Umbra because there is no way they would be willing to tease MC like that, lol. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy :))

S: It was a rare night off for them, and they were spending it celebrating with you. The party spirit had truly overcome you; perhaps the bar should have already stopped serving you, but you didn't seem inclined to slow down. S reasoned with it by watching you and inwardly promising to keep you out of trouble since seeing you unwind for once has been a treat. You are laughing. It's nice.

Then, suddenly, as if stricken by a surprising heat, you set your sights on them. You climb onto the chair next to them, a sultry smile teasing your lips. "You are very... attractive, and I see the way you look at me," you declare through a hiccup, "you single?"

Their eyes widen, and then they chuckle. "Not at all," they reply, still smirking, "I'm afraid I am in a very committed relationship with a beautiful soul who definitely does not know their limit."

Your face falls, tears welling in your eyes. "No..." Your head drops onto their shoulder. "...But I truly believe you are my soulmate."

They lower their head, resting it on yours. "As you are mine."

Rain: Rain tried not to drink. From previous experience, the most unfortunate version of themselves comes out when inebriated. All snot, tears and vomit. It's pathetic to witness. But they have been happily supping on a mocktail while you have been gradually getting more and more loosened up. While they grow sadder under the influence, you laugh. It's nice to see another side of you.

The night goes on, and you grow quieter. Apparently, at some point, you pass a threshold you shouldn't have because you stare at them in an entirely different way. Almost as if you are looking through them. Then, you shake yourself and begin scooting yourself closer.

"You are very attractive."

"Oh, I, uh... thank you, MC."

"Are you single?"

Rain inclines their head to one side, wondering for a moment if you are joking, But you don't laugh. In fact, you look at them rather seriously. "No, I'm not."

You collapse against the table, burying your face in your arms. "No... but I'm so sure you are my soulmate."

Rain's entire chest warms before their face turns flush.

Taj: The difference between you sober and drunk wasn't immediately apparent. You were holding your liquor pretty well. For a human. Or, so they thought. The first sign you might be more affected than they initially thought is how you dance. Your feet no longer step in time with the music, and you slightly tumble into other dancers who guffaw at every misstep.

Taj was ready to gather you back to the table they were occupying until you stumble across on your own with a titillating smile. You fall into the seat next to them, your breath tickling their cheek as you grow closer.

"Hello, good-looking," you mutter with glassy eyes. "Are you single?"

"No!" Taj scrunches their nose in disgust at the question. Utterly offended, they cross their arms across their chest and inch their body slightly away. "And you should know that better than anyone."

Your brows furrow, taken aback by the sudden hostility. Then, tears swell in your eyes. "So, I don't have a chance? But I'm sure you are my soulmate."

Taj cuts off the curse on the tip of their tongue, their face growing a little softer from your admission. "You're an idiot, Koel." They gently take your hand and pull it into their lap, forcing you closer. "But you are my idiot."

N: They are in their element. It's rare to get you to unwind like this. Understandably so, but when they asked you to come and enjoy the nightlife with them, they half expected you to say no. You didn't. Before they knew it, both were knocking back drinks one after another in between bouts of very close dancing. Entirely on purpose on their part. There are far too many eyes on you tonight; everyone should know exactly who you are with. You are theirs.

Sometimes, it is all too easy to forget - especially with how effortlessly you seduce them - that you are human. So, when they take a break at a table, and you join them moments later on shaky feet, they are surprised to see your glassy eyes staring at them as if they are a stranger.

"So, you are very attractive and I have consumed enough liquid courage to fill a bucket. Single?"

They laugh. How could they not? Humans are so ridiculous. They lean closer, gaze heated. "Mmm... the things I would do to you right now if you were sober...Alas... As it happens, I'm not single."

"No..." Your head drops against their chest, and they think they hear you cry. "But I'm sure you're my soulmate."

The word catches in their mind. Their heart begins to race, and their palms turn hot and clammy. For the first time, they feel disgusting in their disguise. "Doubtful," they whisper, choking on it. "But even if you deserve better, I'm not letting go."

Umbra: Their eyes dart to every corner at least thrice when you change positions. Why else would you ask them to come if not to ensure you were safe? They look like a fish out of water sitting in the corner with their hands tucked at their sides, but even if they do not know how to conduct themselves, they like watching you dance.

You have had a few drinks - well, more than a few but they aren't exactly sure what too much alcohol looks like. They have noticed you are a little less stable and swaying back and forth more as you move. Nothing about it stands out as odd, until you set your eyes on them with the look of a predator stalking its prey. You stalk over to them, your ankle bending uncomfortably as you walk, then fall into the booth next to them.

"Hello, good-looking," you greet cheekily. "I've seen you staring at me. Are you single?"

Umbra's brows shoot up in alarm, and they feel their hands begin to shake. "I'm dating you!"

You smile brightly. "I'm dating you?! Woah! I hit the jackpot."

You seem happy, even slipping your hand between their arm to hook around it. It settles them a little. But they won't be truly content until they see in your eyes the recognition that keeps them tethered to this world. What else is there but that?

[midnight-bay-if]

hiii, hope the flu’s gone away even if somewhat, bug my ask is a spin on this ask;

https://www.tumblr.com/midnight-bay-if/768586461085908992/hmhmhm-if-youre-up-for-it-mc-tackling-their-ro

but uh-oh! they CAN’T get up because they’ve been wounded/too damaged TO get up, how would the RO’s react then?

(sorry if i already asked this in some form, i think last time i did was like 4am and much less coherent)

(I wrote these as if the ROs are already in a relationship, but also, I had to make sure the MC showed a sign of life at the end because my emotions have been yo-yo-ing recently, and I don't think I can bring myself to go full pain, haha. I can direct you to this ask for that :) Sorry this took so long!)

S: Initially, It isn't apparent what - or who - hit them. One moment, they were deflecting blows from a particularly pertinent foe; the next, they were on their side, the gravel of the ground cutting into their skin. The burn is enough to distract them initially, but the dead weight on top of them eventually demands an audience. They regret their hesitation almost immediately. "MC!"

They carefully manoeuvre themselves out from beneath you and lay you flat on your back. You are bleeding heavily, and your eyes aren't open. They have already jostled you too much to escape, so they will not try to move you further. "Time to wake up now," they say aloud, ignoring the crack in their voice as they appraise your injuries. "Rain! Call an ambulance!" They trust that their voice carries because they cannot bear to look away from you for even a moment.

They tear at the pieces of their clothing that are thin enough to tear and create tourniquets for the deep cuts on your limbs. It's not enough, but it is all they can do to stem the bleeding. "I'm so sorry, darling," they whisper, reaching down to take your hand, holding it against their chest, ignoring how limp it feels. "I'm sorry I was not quick enough; it should be me... it should be me..."

It is almost too good to be true when they feel the lightest squeeze of your hand against theirs.

Rain: They know it is you almost instinctively. You have always been so brave; of course, you wouldn't think twice about knocking them out of danger. It's who you are. It's one of the reasons they fell in love with you in the first place. But... this?

They see you limp, motionless, and it feels like their heart has been ripped out through their throat. Or maybe that's the feeling of a scream being shredding their throat. "No, no, no, no," they whimper, over and over, as they frantically search for signs of life. It is lucky Selby is beside them because Rain is no longer in control of themselves. The urge to maim, to kill, to seek vengeance is something they learned to push down some time ago, but it all comes back in a rush.

The words "they are still breathing" are all that stops them. Selby rises to get help, leaving Rain alone by your side. Knowing you are still breathing, Rain presses their forehead against yours so they can feel your breath hitting their cheek. "I am here, and I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

It may have been their imagination, but they are sure they see your lips twitch a smile.

Taj: "Watch it, you lump," Taj gibes, thinking you had mistakenly fallen into them. It's only when you both fall down, and you do not get back up that they realise the severity. You should be arguing with them, telling them it's their fault for not paying attention, or shouting that you are okay. Anything. "MC, get your ass up."

You don't even flinch.

Taj sees red. The person responsible has their throat ripped out before they can take their next breath. "Taj, leave it! Focus on MC!" Selby gives the order, but they do not know if they can. How can they bear to see? What if you are not breathing? What if you have just died protecting them because they were too damn slow?!

It feels as if their heart is being crushed in their chest, but they force themselves to their knees beside you. "MC, wake the fuck up! I'm not kidding!" They shout, slapping your face enough to sting without bruising. When that doesn't work, Taj grabs your hand and holds two fingers against your pulse point. They feel it.

"Keep fighting, koel; I owe you a kick in the ass for doing something so stupid."

N: It all happened so quickly. They had been taunting their latest prey, enjoying watching them squirm beneath their fingers, when suddenly, a scream - your scream - rings inside their head, and they are hurtling across the floor. The pain is nothing compared to the silence that follows.

They twist their head around and see you there, lying still; now it is they who scream. "I forbid it," they whisper, crawling to you with all the will they have left, ready to give it to you - in their blood if they must. When their hand reaches your shoulder, they cup your cheek with the other, your blood soaking their hand. They are about to choke on their grief when they see your chest rising. "You're alive," they whisper, aghast. "Now you stay alive, you hear? I would be awfully put out if you died, my dear. I came a long way to find you; you wouldn't let that be for nothing, right?"

They will wait to hear your answer for however long it takes.

Umbra: They let down their guard. How dare they?! HOW DARE THEY?! Umbra's entire world turns black. For a moment, they return to their natural state: the creature who knows no will of their own, an echo, a weapon... and then they open their eyes. They stand in a puddle of blood of their own making, surrounded by those who dared.

Then, they rush to you with blood-soaked hands, but dare not touch you. Tears in their eyes, they rub their hands against their clothes, but the blood merely smudges, the metallic tang making them gag. "I-- I can't, I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

Umbra doesn't know what they meant to say. They only wish to make it stop. To make it all stop. This wasn't supposed to happen. You were not supposed to do this. This is for them. Not you. Not this. "I am scared."

Death is easy; loss is unconscionable.

Then, they see it; your chest rises with a breath. "Yes! Breathe!" They laugh hysterically, finally grabbing your hands in theirs. "I- I do not know how to make it go away, so I will get help. You are going to be okay; I promise."

(P.S. It is very difficult to write when a cat is adamant that your seat is theirs.)

[midnight-bay-if]

Hi! :3

What if MC had to break up and marry that new person? Maybe it was blackmail, maybe it was political threat or something. So, for many years MC had to live with this lie and abandon the person they truly love? But somehow RO gets to know about it??

(It took me a long time to figure out how to answer this; I hope these are okay!)

S: They hear the rumour through the grapevine; a coerced marriage, heartbreak, fear, all leading to sombre acceptance. It's everything their parents wanted for them, but somehow the fate has become yours. It all balls up inside them; the anger, the hurt, the sadness for you... it's overwhelming. Why would you choose to settle? Why would you not come to them for help? These are questions they are desperate to ask but can do nothing until they have looked you in the eye and seen the answers that lie within. This time, they promise, they will not look away.

Too many years wasted already, they refuse to waste a second more. Now, they will do what they do best; concoct a plan, arrange a meeting, coerce their way to your side. Nothing is off the table. They are prepared to bet it all to see you returned to a life of happiness.

They made a promise to you, after all.

Rain: S tried to protect them from any news of you, knowing how much it hurt. But once they hear the truth, it tears them up inside. Had the roles been reversed, would they have done the same? The thought they might have shames them. They do not blame you. Your desire to protect was just one of the beautiful shades of your mosiac they fell in love with. So much of their colour dulled when they lost you. They fear the same may have happened to you. They want it back; they want you back.

So, they will find you. They will stand firm, steady. If you tell them you are unhappy, if they see it within you, nothing in this world could prevent them from pulling you free. Even if it means dragging the ugliest parts of themselves from the deepest dredges they drowned back to the surface, they will. For you.

Taj: Taj doesn't remember the exact moments that followed being told the news, only that the room was turned over, furniture clawed into, and ornaments shattered on the ground. Their heart thunders against their ribs; their bones rattle with the uncontained fury as their hands shake. Anything is preferable to the stinging sensation of tears they desperately try to abate.

They are pissed at you. How could you decide this all on your own? Why? Did you think they would feel sorry for you? Not even a little bit. You should have come to them, trusted them. Did you think your act of self-sacrifice would ease your fuckin' ego? Well, since you took the choice from them, they will take it from you. They will find you. Get you back. Pull you into their arms, and never fuckin' let go.

Your spouse is going to feel every ounce of pain they suffered without you.

N: How you continue to surprise them is a mystery all on its own. They never believed you were the type to just roll over. They still refuse to believe it. It would be easier for them to think you had truly changed your heart and fallen for another who wasn't riddled with their cruelty. But no. You had given yourself over to someone just as cruel. It infuriates them, the rage tearing in their gut, burning through the magical disguise they once wore so easily.

Who did you think you were protecting? Clearly not yourself.

Well, perhaps they will find out why while squeezing the life out of your spouse; they can explain it all through the gurgles of their death rattle. As far as they are concerned, the demon they buried for you deserves some play time.

Umbra: They do not hesitate. All the pain, the discomfort, the fear; they shove it all down, pushing their body past its limits to find you, to reach you. They never should have let you go. They should have been there. It's all their fault. Useless. Pathetic. Worthless.

It's been a long time since they thought to press a dagger to a man's throat without your say so, but they regret not doing so the moment your spouse thought to snatch you away. They wanted to be the person you saw in them; they did. But in the end, they were always this. If you tell them to stop, they will consider it. They promise.

But they would be lying to themselves if the thought of letting their hand "slip" wasn't ever so sweet. They may be a monster, but so are those who dared force this on you.

[midnight-bay-if]

How would the RO’s react to accidentally walking in on the MC changing during the crushing phase?

S: They already have their question prepped, glancing down at the papers in their hands with purpose. Their mind is cluttered, chaotic; they need to ask you now before the next item on their itinerary takes precedence. So, momentarily, manners are left aside. They push open the door to your bedroom, the question already on the tip of their tongue, when they come face to face with you, holding out a shirt to your bare torso to cover your modesty.

"Ah, apologies, MC!" They declare, whipping their face in the opposite direction to you so fast you would think they had been struck. "Forgive me; my question can wait." They leave the room without waiting for a response, closing it securely behind them. Red-faced, cheeks burning, they wait patiently beside the door, knuckles white from the grip on the paper.

They squeeze their eyes shut, desperate to push the mental image out of their mind. This is not how they first wanted to see your skin bared. "Idiot, Selby. Damn idiot."

Rain: Rain is still learning. Personal space and privacy were foreign concepts back home. So, when Rain decides they want to talk to you, they do not even stop to think about the closed door separating you from them. They push it open, stepping into the room without a second thought. When they see you standing there, half-dressed with wide eyes, their cheeks heat up, but otherwise, they do not blink.

"MC, I was thinking--"

"Rain!" You scold, doing your best to cover yourself more.

"Oh," Rain mumbles, some of Selby's etiquette lessons coming to the surface of their mind. "This is rude, isn't it?" Mortification wraps into guilt, and Rain quickly turns their back. "So sorry, MC! I forgot! I wasn't trying to look, I swear!"

It's a lesson they will not forget again.

Taj: As far as they are concerned, they are trapped in your suffocating apartment against their will. They could be at the Selby Manor with their own room, filled with home comforts and surrounded by quiet gardens with only the birds for company. Instead, they are pacing one room with headphones on, doing their best to drown out Rain's incessant chatter. So, when they decide to push open the door of your bedroom without knocking, are they doing it on purpose to be irritating? Yes. But would they have done it if they knew they would greeted with the sight of your bare, flushed skin? No. Of course not.

"Fuck!" They exclaim, slapping a hand over their eyes. "Couldn't you put up a sign?! Or, I don't know, fucking tell us you are getting changed!"

"But it's my room--"

Taj doesn't wait for you to finish your sentence, slamming the door shut behind them. They drop their forehead against the door's wood, breathing heavily against it. When the image of you doesn't immediately dissipate, they begin banging their head against it.

"Stop thinking about it. Do. Not. Think. About. It. Damn it, S is going to kill me."

N: If anything, it is your fault. You have already expressed an interest in a quiet mind in moments of solitude. N is only trying to accommodate your requests. So, when N stumbles upon you half-naked, it is only because you asked them to come to find you in person should they wish to discuss anything.

Your startled cry as you cover yourself with your shirt is adorable, actually.

"Oh, MC, you really shouldn't have," they tease, smirking, leaning against the door frame. "If I had known your mental blocking was intending to entice me into your room, I would have come in sooner."

"I wasn't..." You huff, the frustration they find so endearing bubbling to the service. "Please leave."

They shrug. "Have it your way, my dear," they reply, pushing off the doorframe. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Umbra: They have spent far too much time on the outskirts of civilisation, watching from afar. Boundaries are a new concept to them. Learning human behaviour from the shadows at a distance has left their education in some areas needing improvement. Umbra is just excited to be close to you, always. Even if you can't necessarily see they are present, they would happily watch you from the darkness.

There was never anybody around to teach them it was wrong.

You taught them enough to announce their presence - that they no longer need to skulk in the shadows. You are happy to have them near. But the lesson failed to teach them that sometimes they have to wait for a response before entering your space.

They knock sharply, already reaching for the door handle. "MC, It's Umbra. I'm announcing myself," they state bluntly, pushing the door open, made all the quicker by the startled yell you release as your feet tangle in your pant leg. Umbra shoots to your side, dismissing your half-nakedness in favour of checking for injury. "MC, are you okay?"

"It was a good attempt, Umbra," you say, trying to be encouraging. "Maybe next time, wait until I say you can come in?"

[midnight-bay-if]

heyy, first off just want to say that i absolutely love the story so far and i'm so excited to see where it'll go in the future <3

anywaysss, how would the RO's react to the MC having to be used as like a honey trap to get info for a mission?

(also my first time doing an ask so if this is messed up, i apologise)

(Thank you so much! I'm also excited, haha. And it's not messed up at all! Don't worry!)

S: They see the benefits of such a plan, but it isn't their favourite method of completing a mission. It often leads to too many complications, most of which would be thrust upon your shoulders should things go awry. It leaves you at the forefront of danger, which they will never be entirely comfortable with. So you had better believe they would be lingering close by, just in case.

"I will have eyes on you the entire time, darling. If you feel uncomfortable, or you believe your cover to be blown, do not hesitate to call upon me. I will be beside you in an instant."

Rain: They don't like it. They feel sure S should be able to develop a better plan that doesn't involve you acting sweet for such a dangerous person. It isn't jealousy but genuine concern for your safety. They at least trust that S won't let anything too nefarious happen, but there is no way they can sit still while it's happening.

"Are you sure about this, MC? Perhaps I could do it instead?" It sounds ridiculous out loud. Rain does not have the confidence for such a thing. "Fine. But I'm going to be watching. If I sense anything off about their body language, I'm intervening. I can't lose you."

Taj: "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Their vehement refusal holds no real orders. They fell for you exactly as you are; they would never try to change who you are. But their displeasure is palpable. They hate everything about the idea; the danger, the charm, the temptation, all of it repulsive. The sweet, whispered words you share in the dark and under blankets are supposed to be theirs. They want them to be. Perhaps it's greedy, but it doesn't feel that way when they are utterly starved for you.

"There has to be a better way, Koel. Lean on me. Work with me. Let's do this together.

N: They go quiet. What could they possibly say? Luring people with sickly sweet nothings or sensual promises of pleasure has been their weapon of choice for a very long time. Even you did not escape its clutches. People use whatever is at hand to survive. They cannot begrudge you the same, but... this feeling in their chest... it hurts. Indeed, you must realise so much of their facade has been stripped back since meeting you, and all their soft, soothing melodies are yours and yours alone.

"I will be waiting close by, my dear. If you need me, I will be whispering on the edges of your consciousness. Do not hesitate to call."

Umbra: Unsurprising that another would find you so perfectly alluring, but... they do not like it. "There must be a better plan," they suggest hopefully, tugging at their sleeves in a self-soothing gesture. "I could easily corner them in a dark alley and scare the information out of them." It wouldn't be any particular hardship; they understand how horrifying they are. But you deny it. You always do. Soft, brave, kind; it's who you are. You see that in them, too, but the truth is, Umbra is only that with you.

"If they hurt you," they warn, danger edging its way back into their voice, "there will be no where in any world for them to hide."

[midnight-bay-if]

If the MC is the type who feel uncomfortable or disgust by even slight of contact, how would the ROs react to the first physical contact that MC deliberately made because they're comfortable around the ROs?

S: With anyone else, the touch may have been inconsequential - the slightest contact of fingers as they passed on a file to your waiting hand. A fervent apology teases the tip of their tongue, but when you do not flinch, it dies in their throat. In fact, you smile at them before turning around to the cabinet and filing the document away.

You seem entirely oblivious to how you have provoked their heart. Who knew the most tamest of touches could provoke such a stimulating heat?

"Is everything ok, S?"

"Undoubtedly so, MC; never better."

Rain: It had become a ritual for the two of you. After a long day, free time permitting, you would both curl up on the couch at a respectable distance, a large bowl of popcorn between you, and pick a VHS from your father's collection. For you, it's a way to relive parts of your childhood; for them, it's a way to become more acclimatised to human nature. It's something just for the two of you, something special.

Something made all the more remarkable when, whilst enraptured by the latest film pick, you both reach into the popcorn bowl, and your fingers brush against one another. Rain yanks the hand back, afraid to see you recoil from them, but you seem entirely unruffled.

Rain stares at you, nonplussed. You meet their gaze with a shrug before launching your sweet projectile at their nose. Laughter bubbles at the pit of their stomach, but the joy is brought upon them from an entirely different place.

What had they done to deserve this moment? To deserve all the moments? They have no answer, but it's worth everything.

Taj: Keeping personal space sacred was easy enough for them. In fact, when it became apparent you were not one for physical touch, Taj felt as if they might finally have something in common with you. Little else, mind, but in this, you could agree.

So, when Taj offers to share their pastry, they hope you do no protest when they tear it in half with their hands, handing one half to you with some trepidation. You smile, reaching out to take it, your fingers brushing against Taj's with only the lowering of your lashes to indicate you noticed at all.

Their thoughts run wild, the newfound tremor of their hand betraying their racing heart. Whether their increased heart rate is born of fear or longing, they cannot say, nor do they wish to dwell on the answer. It's stupid, ridiculous; they might care that you feel safe in their presence, and they don't know how to handle it.

"You're staring at me eating," you point out, a little self-conscious.

Taj shakes themselves, turning to their half, grateful for the distraction. "Eat up quickly. And don't tell Rain, or next time they'll be hounding me for their share."

N: It had been a difficult ask to get them to alter their habits. Intimacy was their most effective method of communication. It's what they knew. Words could be tricky, trying, and, more often than not, a trap. Touch was sensuous... soft... safe, at least for them. But, it was never anything you responded well to. So, they learned to curb their touch rather than their tongue, often tripping in the attempts.

But still, you responded. The newfound honesty their efforts brought to the surface was... alarming. The moment they lay a hand on your shoulder, instincts taking over, and you did not flinch, was more alarming still. When had it become okay? When was permission granted? They have to bite down their need to chastise, to chasten. How dare you lower your guard? They have done nothing to earn your confidence.

The venom of their thoughts does nothing to quell the overwhelming fondness threatening to sequester them.

"Too soft," they whisper through grit teeth. "Too weak." They know it is not you they speak of.

Umbra: It had been entirely by accident. Umbra dislikes the idea of touching another's skin just as readily as you while desperately yearning for it in the dark. It was nothing they ever permitted themselves to seek because nobody other than you would be sufficient. But it would be a cruelty to subject you to their chill, to the odorous stink of death that stalks them and keeps them cowed.

It should have frightened them how easily your arms wrapped around their waist despite their warnings. How you nuzzled against them, salving the affliction that has them chained. They shouldn't want it; now they have it and refuse to let it go.

"I know I ask much," they begin, feeling heat for the first time, "but may we stay like this a moment longer?"

(I got carried away again. Ah, well. Hopefully, they will be at least enjoyable.)

[midnight-bay-if]

Saw an ask where what would the ROs react to a possessed MC. But what if the role were reversed, what would the ROs react if they were the one possessed and only managed to break out of it after they badly hurt the MC..

(I know you said 'badly hurt', but I didn't have the heart to write the ROs badly hurting MC, even if by accident. Umbra, for one, would never recover from such a mistake. But I had fun writing what the ROs see during possession. Hopefully, it will provide some useful insights.)

S: Their mind had been ticking like a clock; predictable, dependable, fast but organised. Then, a flash of light, and suddenly, they are unable to linger on a single cohesive thought. They tunnel vision on what lies ahead, on what they see... Rain, Taj, MC... all of them lying broken and bloodied. A howl of agony forces its way through their lungs as their legs push them forward.

How?! How could they have missed this? They should have prepared better - planned more thoroughly; what is the point in them if they cannot even protect the people they love?! They do not possess Rain's magic, Umbra and Taj's agility, nor N's strength; their brain is all they have.

"S! I'm right here! Whatever you're seeing; it's not real!"

The words sound muffled, distant, as if screamed through a pillow. But it sounds like MC. How? I see them... standing right in front of me... oh, god, no. They are so bloodied, so broken... I have to get closer, I have to reach them.

They feel a force pulling them back, ripping at their clothes to keep them away from their friends. The only explanation is that the evil that broke their friends has come to finish the job. So, they lash out and swing around with their fist to dislodge the menace from their person.

But now they hear it clearer. "Ouch! For goodness sake, S, it's me!"

MC.

They blink, and the black shutters that had separated reality from dream separate. They see you upright, alive and wonderful... holding a bloodied nose. "Darling!" They no longer care for propriety and immediately encase you in the tightest hug the left of their strength can manage. "I thought you dead." They pull away long enough to assess the damage. "I am so sorry, my love... I--"

"I'm fine. We're all fine."

They are. They are alive. All of them, alive. And S finally feels as if they can breathe.

Rain: They see home. More than that, they see it whole. How long has it been since they saw the river flowing through lines of crystal or heard the deafening waterfall glinting in the sun's rays? They kneel down beside the flowerbeds, desperate to inhale the familiar scent.

In the blink of an eye, the pleasant sun rays morph into a molten inferno. Fire rages around them, and the pleasant rain turns into a blood-red storm. Rain feels their porcelain heart, already cracked, shatter inside their chest. They want it to stop; they need it to stop.

"No! Stop! Ma! Pa! Where are you?!"

Their lungs with the intensity of their screams, but there's no answer amongst the black smoke.

"Rain! I'm here! It's okay!"

The voice sounds like a lie; they dare not listen. They shove their hands over their ears as they fall to their knees. It's only when arms reach out to them that they lash out. "No!"

"Ouch! Rain! It's me!"

The vision shatters, and Rain falls limply, the fire no longer blazing. All that is left is... you. "MC?" They wretch on your name, hardly able to believe their eyes. You're bleeding, and it's their fault. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. I didn't--"

You pull them into the tightest hug, and it's all they ever needed. Home is gone, but you are here, and that is more than enough.

Taj: This is what they have been reduced to. A species of parasites in dark caverns no better than the rats we live with. They swore they would never return to this; Selby promised they would never have to. They lied. How could they lie to them?! Where are they? Why aren't they here?

It's too dark. They don't want to come back here, back to this cage. They have to find a way forward, find their way back... find the sun.

They force their legs forward through the darkness, their eyes already well-adjusted to navigate it. The cavern echoes with each step, and their ears twitch, listening for any signs of other life.

Nothing. They are entirely alone.

They need to find a way through, out of the gloom, out of the cage.

Then, hope. "Taj! I'm here! I'm right here!"

MC? Of course! MC! Are they trapped down here with them? No, that can't be allowed to stand. Their legs push harder through the murk, but your voice is echoing from every direction, and Taj begins to panic.

"Koel! I'm coming! I will find you!"

Then, something reaches out through the darkness to grab their wrist, and Taj's fight-or-flight demands action. They duck low while kicking up in the direction of their attacker. The cry that follows sends their blood running cold.

"MC?"

The dark cavern crumbles to the light, and no longer are they trapped deep beneath the ground. Taj blinks, once, twice, before their eyes adjust to the scene around them. Then, they see you.

You're slightly hunched, cradling your face, brows furrowed. It hits them. It wasn't real. "MC, I... Fuck, I didn't--"

As impatient as ever, you do not wait for them to find the right words, instead pulling them into a tight embrace. They stiffen, then curl their fingers into your back, clinging on for dear life.

"Idiot." N: One moment, they are lounging on a chaise in a room of rich red and gold; the next, they are surrounded by hellish fires in razed villages and bloodied battlefields. They grimace as they burn the flesh off another soldier, and they count the number 212 before it is drowned out by the words 'failure', 'waste of space', and 'sycophant' repeating inside their head, goading them to further destruction. Power. What is left but that? They need more. Hesitating demonstrates weakness; they cannot afford to be weak. It will spell ruin for them all.

So, they will continue to count.

Then, they hear it; a different voice, serving as a liferaft in the darkness. "N! Stop! It's not real!"

It's not real? Ludicrous. The blood splatters on their face are more than real. Keep going; stopping now will only mean punishment.

Then, they feel it. A soft hand daring to touch their blazing skin amongst the carnage. Then, the screams; so loud, as if coming from inside their very head.

Wait. It is.

MC.

The fire burns out, and only you remain. You hold out your hands in front of you, skin already blistering.

N gasps. "My dear... I didn't mean--"

You shake your head. "I know. I'm just glad you are okay."

Umbra: Darkness; the abyss; the endless nothing. No pain, no touch, no freedom... They always guessed they would end up back here, but not yet. They still have a purpose... but more than that... they feel desire. Desire? No, no, no, no... that is not right. If they still have desire, they still have feelings.

MC? Where is MC? They can't move, they can't breathe... yet they yearn for them. Everything is wrong. It's all mixed up inside them. Take it all away. If they can't be with MC, they do not want it. Any of it. Let them forget. They will disappear into the shadows forever, only being pulled by the strings of their handler.

"Umbra! Look at me!"

They would recognise that voice amidst any darkness. "MC?!" Fear (they still fear) grips their heart. Why are you here? Where are you? They need to find you before you are swallowed whole.

Then, a hand. It grips their arm, and Umbra thinks their strings are being pulled. Away. Away. Away from you. Umbra turns, teeth tearing at the strings, desperately attempting to cut themselves loose.

You scream.

The light dispels the darkness instantaneously. Umbra's lip wobbles with the fear, but then they see you, grimacing down at a bite mark in your hand.

Umbra's hands shake. "I'm terrible... a monster... I can't-- I shouldn't--"You ignore the pain you feel, reaching out to pull Umbra into an embrace, but they pull away. "No, I can't... I don't deserve--"

"Enough, Umbra," you chastise gently, "you are enough."

[midnight-bay-if]

Hey, just want you to know that I absolutely love this IF so far. I also wanted to ask how would the RO's react to an MC who's been hiding a really unhealthy coping mechanism from them? Something like an addiction or even self-harm. For the purpose of clarification let's assume they walked in on MC doing this act.

(TW; Self-Harm. I went a little deep with this... it helped heal a little something inside of me, though. I hope it's okay, and thank you.)

S: The hustle and bustle of the workday had left them impatient to return home and bask in your company. Manners momentarily set aside in their eagerness; they push open the door without forethought to knock. For once, they are grateful for their lapse in judgment when they see the blade against your skin. Their heart stutters in their chest, and they are momentarily stunned into silence. The spell breaks with the whimper that escapes your lips. Hands shaking, S storms over, blinking away tears and grasps your hand in theirs.

“Drop it.” The command is soft but assertive, the same tone they use when directing a mission; it’s a tone that demands a listening ear. You unfurl your fingers, watching as the blade clatters to the ground. You stand in shock, staring at your hand rather than the marks your hand had dealt. S feels shattered at the image.

Slowly, they reach out until the tips of their fingers glide against yours, down and down until only their hand is visible over yours. It’s enough to snap your attention to theirs. “Keep looking at me,” their voice is even softer now, no longer commanding but encouraging, “I am going to wrap these marks, and we are going to talk. Say as much or as little as you like, and I will listen. But do not ask me to leave because I cannot.”

They take great care with the bandages, treating each step with a rare gentleness. S allows you to speak as they work, hoping their divided attention will help you feel less perceived and be more open to conversation. Once all is said and done, S takes your hands once more. “I am here and asking you to lean on me. When you feel adrift, come to me, and I will be your anchor. Together, we can weather any storm.”

Rain: Rain’s eyes are set on the glint of metal against skin; their body turns stone cold. They hadn’t meant to wander in without announcing themselves, but as they grew more comfortable with you, so did their habits. It’s only now they realise there was still so much about you left to uncover. Some of it may even hurt.

Emotion takes over, and Rain does the only thing they can think to; they rush over to you, wrap their arms around your waist, pressing their cheek against your chest. If you are to hug them back, you have to drop the blade, so you do. Rain breathes a sigh of relief as your arms encompass them back, reciprocating the gesture rather than turning away from it. It was a brave thing to do.

“I don’t know the right words to say,” they whimper, clinging to you tightly. “I’m supposed to be a mediator, to know how to offer words of comfort when needed. But when it comes down to it, in moments of crisis, I turn to Selby; I always have done. So, I’m going on instinct right now.”

“You are not alone.” Their voice barely escapes through the shakiness of their breath; they just hope the words reach you. “This pain you inflict upon yourself because it feels better than… nothing; It’s not everything. It’s not eternal. It will end. The chasm in which you have isolated yourself has a door. Find it. Take the first step, and I will walk beside you the rest of the way, I promise.”

Taj: At first, the sight seems perfectly ordinary. Perhaps you did something that you felt you needed to punish yourself for. Then, they stop. Shame forces the thoughts down to the deepest dredges of their mind. Punishment is for them, not you. Their ears twitch, their tail swaying to demonstrate how their heart stirs.

Unable to stay in their sadness a moment longer, Taj storms towards you, batting the blade out of your hands. You startle, not having heard them enter, and shame fills them once more at the fear in your eyes. “Damn it, MC,” they mutter, although their chastising is aimed at themselves.

There is a long silence as they wonder how much of a wound they should open for you. How much do they dare?

Then, before they can talk themselves down, they pick up the discarded blade, shove up the sleeve of their oversized hoodie and bare their skin to your eyes: the long line of old and new scars, some white with time, others still healing, bring tears to your eyes. Taj presses the knife into your hand, guiding it to their skin without even twinging in hesitation.

“Do it to me instead. If you can do it to yourself, this should be no problem, right?”

It’s cruel. Insensitive. It’s all they know.

“If you can’t do it to me, you shouldn’t do it yourself.” Taj takes the blade once more, places it down, and then presses a warm hand to your cheek, brushing away a stray tear with their thumb. “You have no idea how much you hurt me…” The words are a whispered confession as beautiful as ‘I love you’. “We both have a lot to learn about what it means to be kind. So, let’s start now. Together.”

N: It can be difficult to ignore your moments of distress. More often than not, they hear your voice screaming in their head, a desperate call to nobody because you dare not hope someone will answer.For too long, they chose not to because they were not brave enough to believe you would be satisfied with them. They regret their indecision now.

Upon entering the room, their eyes zero in on the movement of your hand against tender skin, and they feel the moment their heart breaks. Gentle isn’t an action they take well, but they try. For you. Carefully, and without judgement, they reach out to you and pry the blade from your knuckles. The sharp edge catches their thumb, but they do not care. Better something so cruel touch them rather than you.

“If you wanted my attention, my dear, you needed only ask,” they joke, though the humour never reaches their voice, staying lost in the tension. “I do not know where you have lost yourself; there are too many places to hide in that head of yours. But let me in, and I will always find you. This, I swear.”

Umbra: It doesn’t make sense. At first, they are convinced you are readying yourself to confront an attacker. Umbra readies themselves, too, never letting you jump into the fray without them by your side. But then you bring the blade to your own soft skin, and it feels like Umbra’s heart truly stops. No. This isn’t right. It hurts. It hurts so much more than the pain in their chest that reminds them what they are.

Without thinking about it a moment longer, Umbra disappears. Black smoke reappears right beside your person as they grip the blade end in their hand before tearing it out of yours. They reform into their full figure, tears spilling from their eyes. You panic, turning their hand in yours to see what should be a fierce cut, only to find a thin, bloodless line.

It sickens them. You cut, you bleed; you mar your skin, undeserving as you are, and the only thing they can do is die. They crouch down in front of you, dropping their head in your lap to hide how they hurt. “It’s my job to protect you,” they proclaim, voice quivering. “I’m supposed to bear the pain so that you can breathe. Please, I can withstand everything; I can protect you from anything… but I can’t protect you from yourself. Tell me how to take this away. I will do anything.”

[midnight-bay-if]

So Christmas 🎄 is around the corner. How would the Ro's spend it with Mc? Also what would they like as a present 🎁 and what would they give Mc?

(Hope you enjoy!)

S: They would prefer a quiet, intimate celebration reserved solely for those they truly care about. This means you, Rain and Taj. That's about it. Every year, they ignore a formal invitation from their parents for their latest soirée; the invite is mainly to be polite anyway. The performance of fun is something they have never felt the need to indulge. They would much rather cook a huge roast and sit around the table to eat, soft music playing in the background while surrounded by coloured lights.

As the night progresses, they will hint for Rain and Taj to make their departure. It might take a few attempts; both are oblivious after a few drinks. Then, they will cuddle up beside you under a warm blanket by an open fire, talking about anything and everything on your mind.

As for gifts, S would never ask for anything but your time and company. But if you insist on getting him something, a practical gift would be best. Some socks or a new alarm clock, something like that.

What they would get you would entirely depend on the kind of person you are. S has money to burn, so that's not of any concern. If you seem overworked and stressed, the gift may take the form of plane tickets. Or, should you need a little pampering, a trip to a spa may be prudent. Whatever it is, S will have spent a long time considering it.

Rain: Christmas is a reasonably new concept to Rain, but they have fallen in love with the holiday. Spending it with S has given them some idea of how to make it memorable. So, they take charge. With the idea of surprising you in mind, they wait for you to leave your apartment before sneaking in. They don't have any decorations of their own, but you have a mish-mashed box dumped into the closet of the spare bedroom.

They begin pulling out things that look colourful, draping them over furniture, hanging baubles off the ceiling, and setting up candles in areas without much light. Some Halloween decorations get mixed up in the display, but their heart is in the right place. It's chaotic, but Rain's proud smile when he announces it is enough to assuage your doubts. Rain then asks you to introduce them to your favourite Christmas movie. You delve under a blanket with plenty of snacks and curl up with a VHS.

Rain would honestly appreciate anything MC gave them; they still have so much wonder about the world. A brightly coloured sweater or cardigan would be good, or some new paints would go down well.

Rain would most likely go for something homemade when it comes to gifts. A personalised photo frame with a watercolour painting of you both inside.

Taj: They never celebrated Christmas before meeting S; they still don't, really. They only partook in the celebration out of necessity because they didn't want to be away from Rain and S. But if MC celebrates Christmas, they are going to make more of an effort. They want you to have a good time. So, while whispering curses under their breath, they yank on an ugly sweater and hand you a matching one. Then, they attempt to follow a recipe handwritten by S to make cooking a roast as foolproof as possible. Within the hour, Taj manages to set a kitchen cloth on fire and cremate some vegetables at the bottom of a pan.

The more they mess up, the more frustrated they become with themselves. Your first holiday together was supposed to be perfect, and they're fucking it up. You enter the kitchen after smelling burning and set to work on salvaging what you can, working much better together than Taj had alone. They only relax when they realise you are not angry about the food. Your dinner may be small, but you both fill up on ice cream and cake afterwards.

You finish the night with games from your childhood. Taj takes them a little too seriously, but after a few drinks, they've loosened up, their tail swishing languidly before it wraps itself around you.

Taj would appreciate gifts that are personal. A letter, or a hand-made scarf, or a personalised bracelet. Something with a little bit of you.

Taj is definitely a panicker when it comes to gifts. They will likely spend hours perusing shops of all kinds, decide nothing is good enough for you, and then leave it much too long. At the last minute, they would wrap one of their favourite hoodies for you in an unintentionally sweet gesture.

N: They have watched the Christmas holidays from a distance in the past, amused by the rituals humans perform on such an occasion. For obvious reasons, they have never received an invitation to join in. Strangely, they are looking forward to spending the holidays with you. Putting their best foot forward, N ensures their appearance is immaculate, puts on the new outfit they have bought specially, and asks you to do the same. Taking your arms in theirs, they take you out of town without any explanation. Not only do you enjoy delicious food, but you also enjoy the added pleasure of a lively cabaret show as you eat.

Afterwards, N takes you home, peeling off your clothes to your comfort level. If you are so inclined, N will spend the rest of the night servicing you however you wish; tongue, fingers, nothing is too much.

For gifts, it would be enough for them to know you thought of them. A single rose, a bottle of bubbly, or, if you wanted to go all out, a new ring, earrings etc

N is more likely to go over the top with gifts. Luxurius lingerie and underwear with your exact measurements, expensive jewellery they have custom-made, and multiple sets of outfits. They're going to expect a fashion show in return.

Umbra: They have never celebrated Christmas before. They have watched people hang up their long, crystal-esque likes from their homes from their frigid apartment windows with mostly indifference. So, when you state a desire to spend the holidays with them for the first time, they feel something other than nothing about the day. And suddenly, that feeling of nothing feels a little like loneliness.

Umbra doesn't know precisely how to celebrate, but when you say there is little for them to do but be with them - well, they can do that very well. When you open the door to them, you foist a Santa hat upon their head, dragging them inside where it's nice and warm. Umbra feels it. They have to. There's no other explanation for the feeling inside their chest.

You spend time eating, talking, laughing... it's all too much. Umbra gets misty-eyed, and they pull you into a tight embrace to hide it. After a nice dinner, Umbra has the idea to go up to the roof of your apartment building to see the lights spread across town. You bundle up much warmer than Umbra as they guide you out the window in a very practised way. You're cold, but this is how Umbra has spent so much of their time. So, you feel it's important to follow.

After some careful footwork, Umbra's hand holding you the entire way, you both sit on the roof of your apartment building, looking down at the tired town you call home.

Aside from the gift of your company, Umbra would really appreciate something they could keep with them at all times. Something small to fit in their pocket that reminds them of you.

Umbra would give you a haphazardly sewn plushie of themself. It would be made clumsily but with a lot of love. Something to keep you warm when you hug it since they can't.

[midnight-bay-if]

How would each ro act after the first morning after waking up next to mc?

(I'm so sorry if these aren't perfect, but I'm not sleeping so well at the moment. I'm really behind on asks, though, so I still wanted to power through and answer this anyway. I hope it's okay!)

S: S blinks the sleep from their eyes, the morning sun cutting through the gap in the blinds and clearing the haze in their eyes. For a moment, it's a morning like any other. They turn their head to look at the alarm clock on the bedside table. 6:55am, precisely five minutes before their set alarm. Perfect, as usual. They lean over to switch it off.

Then, you shift beside them, the mattress dipping with the movement. S turns their head towards you, a soft smile tugging at their lips. You lay on your side, one hand tucked beneath the pillow that cradles your head. S watches for a moment, taking in how the light of the morning gently caresses your skin. Heat blooms in their chest, admiring how soft your expression is.

Careful not to wake you, S leans forward to press a soft kiss on your forehead, lingering there a moment before slowly climbing out of bed to prepare themselves for the day ahead. After a quick shower, they will go downstairs to prepare breakfast in bed for you. In the meantime, they will let you sleep. Your soft, peaceful look as you sleep is worth protecting.

Rain: Rain rubs their eyes, yawning as the midmorning sun burns threateningly through the dark curtains holding the light at bay. They stretch out their arms above their heads, ignoring the snap of their elbow as it straightens out. They hum, a smile already on their lips before their mind can catch up to why.

A soft sigh pulls their attention to the usually empty space in their bed. As Rain's eyes rest upon your face, their smile widens to a grin, butterflies fluttering in their stomach. Unable to resist temptation, they reach out, tenderly running their fingers across your cheek. They can't believe you are real—that this moment is real.

The excitement bubbles up inside them until it can no longer be contained. They nudge themselves over to your side of the bed until they are a hair's breadth from your space. Slowly, they slide their arm beneath your head before flinging a leg over you, craning it back towards them to enclose the space between you. Your eyes flicker open as Rain presses their forehead against yours.

"Good morning, dear," they greet cheekily. "Sleep well?"

Taj: Taj lies on their back, staring up at the ceiling as they have done much of the night. They have the scuff marks above them memorised at this point. Some chipped paint, a random stain leftover from a slipped tile where the rain soaked through, and some slight yellowing from the nicotine of their cigarettes when they are too lazy to smoke outside.

It's all they have been able to do to stop themselves from staring at your sleeping face all night. Taj never expected this. They never expected someone to want them intimately enough to have this. There's been the odd tumble beneath the sheets in their past, but they were alone again by morning. It's the smart thing to do. The easy thing.

Taj dares a glance to the side, your face much more visible with the rays of sunshine poking through the blinds. Nothing about what they have with you is easy, yet sleepless nights have never felt so welcoming. A hint of a smile sneaks at the corner of their lips as Taj finally turns their body to face you completely.

"I don't know what you're doing to me," Taj whispers, hoping your sleep swallows the words. "... but you better not take it back."

N: N stretches languidly, a heavy sigh on their lips. Their skin tingles with the spectre of your touch trailing the same paths from the previous night, creating an indecipherable warmth to build in their chest - a warmth so pleasant it makes them stop, their breath catching in their throat. Memories of the previous night flood their mind; their brows crease, their lips forming a displeased line.

N finally takes in the room around them, the bed they share with you. It's their first time waking in your bed as the sun rises - a level of intimacy they suddenly feel unprepared for. This isn't them. This isn't what they do.

Passion is an instrument they have tuned well. The strings play a sordid melody under their fingers, designed to entice and entwine. A momentary escape before the strings snap. By then, it's already too late. N has taken precisely what they desired, leaving nothing left.

It started that way with you, too: a new composition with a new instrumentalist, but the steps remained the same. So they believed. Before they knew it, they were dancing to your tune of soft words and intimacy with terrifying enthusiasm. And they do not understand it.

"You are frightening, my dear."

Umbra: Everything feels new. Umbra doesn't typically sleep; they have no need to and have never desired to, either. The dark is full of nightmares, danger and shadow. The night is who they are; it's where they belong. That is, until you. You helped them step out of the shadow, to become a person who touches, who feels, who basks in the light.

So, Umbra's eyes blink the sleep from their eyes, a single tear drop escaping through the blurriness. They turn to you, expecting to see you huddled tight under the blankets to ward off the cold. Instead, you lean close, one leg intertwined with theirs as if basking in their chill. Umbra inhales sharply, their throat choking the emotion from them. The sight of you so peaceful, so still in their presence, is overwhelming.

Umbra dares to run a hand through your hair, no longer afraid you will recoil from their touch. They smile to themselves, their lips cracking with a beautiful sting as they stretch.

If waking up feels like this, Umbra chooses it every time.

[midnight-bay-if]

Hmhmhm, if you're up for it: MC tackling their RO out of the way of some danger and oh no! Now MC is pinning them against a wall/the ground/whatever and is taking slightly too long to let them up!

(I'm always up for some... tension, haha. Sorry, this took a while to get to! I have around 20 asks in my inbox right now. It also wasn’t specified whether the ROs are in a relationship at this stage, but for the sake of extra tension, I wrote it as if they were not. You know, for fun, haha.)

S: They are used to preparing for every inevitability. Their plans are organised, considered, and timely. But you are something of a wildcard, unpredictable and difficult to control. So, mid-fight, they are surprised, but shouldn't be, when you barrel into them to prevent their attacker from making a swipe for their head. Instead, their body collides with the floor, your weight pressing into them. They hear Taj dispatch the attacker, but they are much too occupied with how your breath tickles their lashes. It seems you are equally transfixed, neither moving to free yourself from the other.

It’s S who coughs and breaks the moment first if only to save themself the embarrassment of explaining the heat of their face. “Ah, forgive me,” they say, attempting to pull themselves out from under you.

With the spell broken, you move just as quickly. “Right. Are you… okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. Thank you for the timely assist,” they offer, readjusting their shirt and pointedly focusing their attention elsewhere. Then, they smile. “Perhaps a verbal warning the next time you deem to thrust yourself upon my person?” The double entendre was not lost on you.

Rain: Fighting was never really Rain’s forte. Or, well, not any longer. Luckily for Rain, S mostly agreed with Rain’s pacifist nature and endeavoured to control a battle with as little bloodshed as possible. Rain knew basic hand-to-hand combat, but if they were beside a bed of water, Rain was much more useful. They were not. Taj always hovered close to Rain, ready to defend them at any moment, but they were already caught up with several attackers. It is you who comes to their aid this time.

Without a second thought, you push them down to the ground after a particularly vicious swing of a dagger swipes towards their stomach. It’s enough to save their skin, if not their clothing. Taj finishes the job, breaking away long enough to knock their attacker out. Rain stares up at you, wide-eyed, in disbelief. What you did was terribly reckless, yet you did it for them. They don’t know whether to kiss you or kick you.

“Are you okay?” You ask, chest heaving. “They didn’t hurt you?”

“No,” they gasp, their eyes misting over. “My clothes didn’t survive the ordeal, but otherwise…” They trail off, trying to ignore the heat of you seeping through the frayed piece of clothing. “MC?” They whisper, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. “Please don’t do that again.”

Taj: They rely on synergy during a fight. If they are not fighting alone, it takes knowing exactly what Rain and S think during a fight to navigate it successfully. It’s a reliance on their skill and S’s knowledge of their own that makes them an effective team. You, on the other hand, are an irritant. Your insistence to involve yourself means Taj, while combatting two separate assailants, has one eye trained on you at all times. It’s instinctive. It's not an instinct they are at all pleased about, either.

So, when another combative runs out towards your back, Taj is the first to notice. Dipping beneath a fist aimed for their skull, Taj skids across the ground towards you. Before the man can careen into your side, Taj does so first, knocking you flat beneath them. S, never being far behind, intercepts the attacker and finishes the job. Taj glares down at you, breathing hard, hands flat on either side of your head. You stare back up at them, doing much the same thing. The eyes soften almost imperceptibly when they realise how terrified they felt.

Growling, they push themself off of you, flinching away as if burned. “Try to pay attention, Koel. I won't make a habit of saving you," they lie.

N: In the Haels, they had seen a great deal of death. Much brought on by their hand. It was familiar. Like home. Even in an army, however, nobody truly cared for their fellow soldiers. It was every demon for themselves, as it should be. If you survived, you were strong. If you didn’t, well, you ceased to matter. So, it was quite amusing being pinned beneath you after being knocked out of the way of a deadly blow. How quaint. How strange.

Their heart hammered against their chest, their palms clammy, as they stared up at you with wide eyes. At first, it doesn’t completely compute why your elbow is crushing against their gullet. Then Umbra finishes off their would-be assailant, and all becomes clear. You had risked yourself for them. Why? What did you hope to gain? Their co-operation? Their compliance? Their… submission?

They mask their fear behind the salacious mask they are so prone to wearing. “It’s about time you threw yourself at me, my dear,” they goad, ignoring how their chest clenches. “Mm… I had hoped for a softer landing. Pillows, silk, by candlelight, but I’ll accept whatever it is you have to give.”

You don’t apologise when you dig your elbow deeper into them as you rise.

Umbra: They move without thinking. They do not need to. Their body has a way of directing itself, flowing like water as they dance across the battlefield; death follows. And yet, they are used to watching from a distance. Once, you would have been safe from such horrors as they carried them for you. They failed in this once before, and you forgot. They do not want to repeat this mistake. They want you to remain unscarred, unbroken, and untethered from darkness. So, they continue to dance.

But having you so close leaves them distracted. They focus too heavily on your movements and fail to notice another assailant lying in wait in the darkness.

“Umbra!” Your voice calls to them, so they turn towards you instinctively. But you are rushing towards them, and before they can even process the change, you tackle them down from the line of bullets destined for their chest. N expertly dispatches the shooter, blood splattering across the ground beside you. Neither move, fear gripping you still. Their hand hovers close to your cheek, shaking. They want to hold you, to describe the depth of the feeling, but words fail. As they so often do.

It is you who makes the first move, pushing off them with flushed cheeks and trembling legs. You hold out a hand to them, one they cannot bring themselves to take. “Thank you,” they offer, pushing themselves off the floor. “I… I will do better.”

“Just be safe,” you reply, denying Umbra’s declaration. “I need you to be safe.”

[midnight-bay-if]

I'm not sure if anyone asked this yet (and I hope u don't mind 😭), but how old are the ROs?

This was answered a very long time ago, so it's unsurprising you haven't seen it, anon :)

S: 30

Rain: 24

Taj: 26

N: 341

Umbra: ???