#nothing for this persona. for that mask. for their dynamic. nothing at all

[the-kipsabian]

(so it turns out i never posted this actual video so like.. here. i have so many brain worms about this now cause like. holy shit my dude. once again asking where. OH WHERE. the fuck is/was this character after his return and why wasnt he given a fair chance when all the building blocks were so obviously fucking there.......)

[cassieopeauh]

What is this feeling?

Pairings: Elphaba x Reader x Galinda

Summary: You are in love with the two most well known girls at Shizz. They both love you, but loathe each other and loathe that the other loves you. They try to steal you from each other and win you over. Intercourse is had. Feelings are hurt. Everything works out in the end.

Word count: 5100

Warnings: SMUT⚠️, like so so so much smut ya’ll. Porn with some plot. Eating out. Fingering. Thigh riding. Grinding. Slight dry humping. Bra used as gag. Semi public sex. Y/n is lowkey a bop. Brief dom/sub dynamics (the roles are reversed a few times cause y/n is written as a switch) brief hate sex. Angst. Feelings are hurt. Apologies are said. Based off movie knowledge only. They all make up and get together in the end. I think that’s everything.

A/n: Galinda and Elphaba are probably a bit ooc in this srry. I’ve only watched the movie but have been listening to the musical soundtrack for years. Plz don’t roast me if I got some of the stuff about shizz wrong 😢.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

“What is this feeling so sudden and new?” Galinda whispers to herself as she watches you below from her shared dormitory balcony.

She shifts her body so her head lays up her arms which lay atop the stone wall surrounding the balcony, as she dramatically sighs and continues to dreamily look at you from above.

Her usually confident and cocky persona felt like it crumbled to pieces whenever she was around you, leaving her uncharacteristically awkward and nervous. Vulnerable. Thus, to her, confessing to you seemed out of the question.

She had tried to wish away these pesky feelings, but to no avail. She had fallen hard.

She watched as you walked over and struck up a conversation with her irritating roommate. Oz, you were so much more kind than her. You had been going out of your way for the last week to befriend the girl because you saw the unjust treatment of her and knew it was undeserved. The same girl that has been nothing but a thorn in her side since they were unfairly roomed together.

Meticulously manicured nails scraped against the concrete beneath her grasp in deep jealousy, as she watched you and Elphaba’s conversation become a bit “too friendly” for her liking. She felt like she was going to scream if this kept up!

“It’s not fair! I am ten times more perfect in every way than that little goth prude! Why does she get first dibs on everything I deserve?” She said aloud to no one. Theatrically slumping down behind the balcony wall and draping her arm over her face.

If overcoming her fears of confessing to be with the one person who had made her feel a true connection with meant keeping her little rival from having what she wanted…

She made up mind right then. She was going to push aside her fears, put on a confident mask, and use her natural charm to snatch you away from Elphaba.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

“I felt it the moment I laid eyes on you.” Elphaba was never one to want much, never one to think herself attractive or desirable from the perspective of others, but you had brought out a part of herself she thought she had buried along with all her other wishes.

You were both still new to each other only having been friends for a few weeks, but Elphaba now having understood her feelings saw no reason to wait any longer. Always one to never hold back when it came to speaking her mind, despite fear of rejection, she asked you to accompany her to a secluded part of Shizz so she could communicate her feelings to you.

“I don’t know what to say…” you replied.

It wasn’t that you weren’t overcome with a sense of giddiness whenever you were around her. It was that while having feelings for Elphaba, you had also been harboring the same kind of feelings for your other gorgeous friend Galinda.

You were also well aware of your two love interests' rivalry, knowing no that if you were to start a relationship with Elphaba, the pink obsessed blonde would take it as an act of betrayal.

But at the same time you couldn’t bare to turn down Elphaba, with how much you liked her and knowing her deeply rooted insecurities and how much she must have overcome just to confess to you.

You were fucked either way.

“I… I need time to think… please don’t take it the wrong way, I like you! I do..I just… it’s complicated.” Your heart withered at the sight of Elphaba in front of you putting on a brave face and masking her disappointment. Concealing her feelings and pretending she doesn’t care what people thought of her was her specialty.

“I… understand…….I think it’s best I go now.” Elphaba cast her head downwards as she didn’t want you or anyone to catch a glimpse of the newly forming barley concealed tears. She was so stupid to think you could reciprocate her feelings.

“Elphaba wait!” You called after her, but she carried on striding away from you. What could you say to her anyways? Nothing you could say could soothe the black hair girl’s pain of rejection. It wasn’t even a full rejection! Oh Oz why did you say that! Why does liking more than one person have to be so complicated!

Little had you known a certain blonde haired socialite had followed behind you and Elphaba after overhearing the ravenette asking you to follow her somewhere more private. That same girl had eavesdropped on conversation from behind a stone pillar a safe distance away.

She was now more determined than ever to win you over in light of her now confirmed suspicions of Elphaba having a crush on you as well.

Her heart initially felt like it had broken upon hearing you say you liked her back, and then mended itself at hearing you half reject her. Giving her hope for a chance. She was usually so confident, knowing what she wanted and taking it. That half a second of heartbreak and vulnerability was enough to let her know not having you was simply not an option.

——————————————————————

“What is this? What did you do!” Elphaba’s morning routine was immediately halted as she stepped out of bed at the sight of a wall of pink decor, suitcases, lamps, bags, etc.

“Oh that? I’m simply making room. I’m having y/n over for a girls day after our plans for today. Oh and of course I had to hide your hideously plain side of the room.” Galinda hadn’t even bothered to raise her head to look in her roommates direction as she spoke to her. To busy going through the steps of her complex morning hair routine.

“What? Why would y/n be coming over here? You’re much too stuck up for her to willingly be around.” Elphaba said. Annoyance clear in her voice. The mention of you had caught her off guard though, especially since the two of you hadn’t talked since that mortifying confession.

“I’ll have you know y/n and I are actually friends. And I’m not stuck up, you only happen to think so because you’re the bottom rung of the popularity ladder! You’re simply jealous of the fact y/n would rather be friends with someone perfect like me!!” Elphaba didn’t need to see her face as she could practically hear the girl's smug look in her voice.

Elphaba felt that familiar tingling sensation of the magic building up inside her at Galinda’s harsh words. Words that were unusually cruel for the girl who claimed to be ‘oh so good’. Words born out jealousy and insecurity for the affections she held for y/n.

Just as Elphaba felt like a burst of magic might leave her and crack a second balcony window, a set of four knocks came from the dorm door with the many carved details and brass trim.

A glance between them. One of masked anger and one of feigned innocence with a smugness behind it. Galinda got up to open the door.

“Y/n hiiiii!!!! I’m ever so glad you could make it! Let me show you in!” The blonde took you by the hand and brought you in, closing the door behind her.

“Oh and I don’t believe you’ve met my roommate! This is Elph-“ She started with faux politeness. An attempt at making things more awkward between the two girls in front of her and then whisking you away infront of her rival in a show of pettiness.

“Oh, we’ve met…” You trailed off. Sheepishly avoiding the ravenette’s gaze.

“Yes… we have…” Elphaba suddenly felt very exposed, awkwardly standing. The floor had suddenly become very interesting.

“Oh well I’m so glad that my very best friend and my roomate already know each other! Well, we better be going now, come along now sweetness!” Galinda threw a not so inconspicuous wink your way, much to the bewilderment and then jealousy of Elphaba, still stood in her nightgown.

“Oh! Uh…Alright! Coming!” You were thrown off balance by the sudden use of a pet name only to come to and scamper after the pink figure fading down the hall. Not before casting one last longing glance at Elphaba. Both of you shared a look before you too disappeared down the hallway.

As Elphaba closed the door shut the sound of a window pane breaking shot through the silence you left her in. A magical manifestation of her jealousy and sadness.

——————————————————————

*Thud*

Galinda, empowered by her regained confidence, pinned you up against the empty classroom door. Both her hand on your waist as she looked down at you with blown out pupils and unsteady breath.

“Oh… y/n, I know this must be a sudden shock but I positively just couldn’t resist anymore!” She rubbed her thumb across you hip where her hand laid as her eyes flickered between you eyes and your lips. You stayed frozen between want for the girl in front of you and want for the girl you had left in her dorm.

“I do wish you feel the same… I haven’t felt like this about anyone… a few flings here and there, yes… but I really care for you… I… feel vulnerable.. around you.” You could see the sincerity in her eyes as Galinda watched for you with baited breath.

“I… I feel the same way, b-“ Galinda cut you off with a hungry kiss, her brain only having registered your words of reciprocated feelings

Your brain suddenly feeling like mush in the midst of Galinda’s onslaught of heavy open mouthed kisses. Your hands wandered up to grasp the back of her head, tangling in her golden curls. You completely forgot what you were even going to say.

The taste of her lip gloss mixing with your own, while Galinda nipped at your bottom lip. Per usual, Galinda got her way, as you opened your mouth for her to explore. Galinda wasted no time.

The two of you parted momentarily. A string of saliva connecting your mouths, both of you panting, before the blonde dove right back in. Simultaneously lifting her leg slightly so her knee was wedged up against your core. You made a noise that was instantly swallowed up by the girl pinning you to the door.

“Is this okay?” She asked, seemingly just now remembering her manners.

“Yes… please don’t stop.” The blonde went back for another kiss before her mouth started traveling along your jawline and then to your neck. Your head turned sideways and up to give her better access. You had lightly started to grind down on her leg that was in between yours.

Galinda had started to hastily mark you, not caring if anyone saw it on you. (Maybe hoping a certain someone would see it). As she worked her way down to your clavicle her hand started to unbutton your shirt. Helping her shed your outer clothes and being left in your bra, she took a moment to admire you.

“You’re beautiful..” She said as she unashamedly raked her eyes up your exposed skin up towards your face. Giving you a gentle kiss this time. Your hands cupping her face, while her hands reached around your back to unclasp your bra, dropping it to the floor.

Hands began to grasp and fervently pull at your breasts as the intensity of the kiss came back once more. All noises being lost to the blonde in front of you.

Some of the fog left your mind as the sounds of someone walking outside the door and down the hall brought you back to reality.

“Wait.. *pant* someone might come in..” A slight look of fear graced your features. Surely you would be expelled for this kind of behavior.

Galinda only smirked in reply. She held you face with one hand, flicking the deadbolt on the door with the other.

“Guess we’ll just have to be quiet then” Pulling you from the door to the mahogany teachers desk in the center of the room.

She hopped up on the desk and slightly leaned back. Patting her thigh while looking at you expectantly, you complied. Climbing up and straddling her thigh you couldn’t help but wish Galinda was a little more exposed, like you were.

Settling down with your clothed core pressed against her thigh, you gave just the slightest of pouts as you reached up and gently tugged at her top while locking eyes with her.

She let out a breath chuckle.

“Oh baby… you want this off?” She watched as you nodded and then guided your hands to unbutton her blouse and revealed her bra underneath.

Your eyes hungrily swept over pink silk that barely concealed hard nipples. Your hot breath fanning down on her now mostly exposed chest. Once again taking the lead, she guided your hands to her back, where you unclasped her bra. Tossing it aside.

“Wow…” was all you managed to get out, making her lightly giggle. You looked at her, and after receiving a small nod, you experimentally ran your hands over her breasts. Thumbs stopping over her nipping and gently rubbing.

She let out a quiet moan which encouraged you to continue. Her noises slowly building up in their frequency. She then took control again by leaning forward and capturing you in a kiss and bringing your hand to her face.

“Let’s get you out of this skirt…” she smiled at you. You stood up, putting on a little show for her, as you removed your skirt, undergarments, and shoes. Giving her a little spin and then climbing back to your original position.

“There we are… now.. take what you need sweetness.” Her words commanded you to start slowly grinding your now unclothed core against her thigh. Her hands went to guide you by your waist, as you held onto her shoulders for support.

“Oh…Oh my..” your breathing picked up as Galinda urged you into a faster pace. Moving her hips back and forth to meet you halfway. Her leg by now being soaked in your arousal.

“Oh.. that’s right sweetheart…keep going..” Galinda praised you as you grinded down harder. Clit dragging across milky white thighs. That feeling of heat starting to build up more and more in your lower area.

Panting now, as your noises started to grow, Galinda connected your mouth to keep the noise to a minimum so no one would hear. Your little whines and moans being muffled by pink lips.

What felt like too soon, you had started to get close. The pink clad girl could tell by the way your hips started stuttering in their pace.

“Come on sweetness… come for me..” Galinda panted, getting worked up just from the sight of you getting off on her thigh.

Her words seemed to help push you over the edge, as you came. A loud whine escaping your lips. Riding out your orgasm for a few seconds before slumping into Galinda. Both your bare breasts pushed against each other. Your head resting on her shoulder, while her fingers rubbed up your back and in your hair and gave tiny little kisses to your neck.

“You did so well… you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you like that.” The blonde whispered in your ear, causing good bumps to appear along your nape in her wake.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time as well…” you said while catching your breath.

You stayed in that position of embrace. Waiting for you to recover from your exertion.

After a minute, you started to feel Galinda squirming a bit below you. You sat back so you could look at her.

“Do you want me to..?” You said.

“Please.” She replied.

You slowly peeled yourself away from her and slightly sat back. Hands resting on her thighs, feeling the slick from where you were a minute ago.

You tugged at her last remaining garments, as she helped by maneuvering herself in order to remove her skirt and underwear. Eyes raking over her. Taking in every aspect.

Leaning in and giving her a quick peck on the lips before trailing kisses down her neck. Then to her sternum. Next, her navel. Then finally reaching the place where she needed you most, you glanced up to her eyes once more before shifting your mouth forwards.

She let out a breathy moan as your tongue made contact with her slick. You took a couple of long licks before focusing on her clit. She tasted sweet. Your hands found their places around her upper thighs

Your movements continued to coax airy whines and moans from her. These only spurred you on more. Now deciding to add one finger in the mix, you experimentally poked your right ring finger at her entrance. That elicited a slightly louder moan. Heat pooled in your stomach at that.

You slowly started pumping your one finger in and out of her core while still continuing to lick at her clit. Galinda’s hands were suddenly in your hair, pushing you further into her and groaning.

Deciding to add another finger, you slipped a second one into your rhythm. Stretching her out further. After a particularly loud moan though, you stopped your movements which in turn brought out a whine and a pout from Galdinda.

“Why… *pant* why’d you stop?” She questioned. Not a fan of being teased. You brought your head up to meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry, you were being a bit too loud. Someone might hear us. Here… this should solve the problem.” You took hold of her previously discarded silk bra and brought it up to her face.

“Are you okay with this..? Being.. um… gagged I mean..?” Galinda’s pout was replaced by a smirk and a little laugh at your sudden shyness. She thought it was adorable.

“Of course, now I can be as loud as I want. To show you how you make me feel.” She grinned and took hold of the bra you held out to her. Clamping her teeth around it and leaning back to give you access once more.

You returned to your previous position and activities. Speeding up to get her back to where she was. You heard her muffled noises, much more frequent and high pitched. It was clear she had been holding back a bit before as to not be heard and subsequently caught.

Her hand returned to the back of your head as she grinded her hips against you. Getting closer, her grip tightened and her hips started to fervently rut and buck up into you.

With one last drawn out muffled whine from her, you felt her come on your hand. Feeling her walls flutter around your fingers, you helped her ride it out before pulling away. Crawling up to her once more, you sucked her juices off your fingers before pulling the bra out of her mouth to bring her into an embrace as she had done for you. Letting her rest.

Once she had recovered, she leant back to pull you into another kiss. This one was slow and full of love. Parting to breathe you both only paused for a second before going back in for another.

No words needed. Only the moment.

——————————————————————

A set of four knocks sounded on the intricate door.

“Galinda’s not here!” Elphaba called out to who she assumed was one of her roommate's little henchmen. Galinda had left for the afternoon to meet a secret importer for a new collection of dresses she was sneaking into Shizz.

When the set of knocks continued after Elphaba had called out, she sat up from her study material, and strode over to the door to open it.

“I told you she’s not he-…” Elphaba was greeted with the sight of your face. Holding a small sheepish smile.

“Hi… I was hoping we could talk?” You looked up at her through your lashes with baited breath. Hoping you hadn’t ruined things with her.

“I thought you’d be out with Galinda. Seems you two are never apart these days.” She replied with a displeased look on her face. She was no fool. She knew there was likely something going on between her roommate and you.

It was true though. Galinda had insisted you stayed glued to her side since your “girls day out”. Practically dragging you along on a leash. Not that you minded being around her all the time, but it left you no time to resolve things between you and Elphaba.

“I… I wanted to come and apologize for not speaking to you since… last week.” You guiltily looked away. You had been rather horrible to her for not speaking to her. And sleeping with her roommate who she loathed.

“Go on.” Elphaba crossed her arms. Giving you a blank face.

“Well… I’m ever so sorry for not talking to you. I like you, I really do! It’s just… I also like someone else and if I were to be with you it would hurt them. Though I see that the opposite has happened and I’ve hurt you instead.” You tried to keep your composure while you apologized, but it was clear that your eyes were becoming watery.

“Galinda…” Elphaba stated what was already known. The sound of defeat in her voice. Her posture sulked downward.

Your eyes widened as you took a few steps toward her.

“Oh no! Please you must believe me that I never wished to hurt you! I just-… I want to be with both of you! But I know that’s not possible because you two hate each other and I wish her friends weren’t so cruel to you and it’s all so complicat-!” You were cut off by green lips silencing your rambling.

She pulled back. Tears in her eyes as you looked on with shock on your face.

“Please, I’ve never been one to want anything. I shouldn’t let myself want anything. But I just want you. You hurt me, I can’t forget that, but I can’t stand that she has you. Please just be with me… even if it’s just for this moment…” Her words were heartbreaking. She had endured more than her fair share. Given so much, yet received so little.

“Anything you want…” You gently reached up and caressed her face. Leaning in and connecting your lips and a soft and tender kiss. Tasting salty tears from where they had fallen from her emerald eyes.

Growing more confident, Elphaba brought you both inside the dorm and shut the door with one hand. All while never leaving your mouth.

What started out as slow and emotional had started to become more passionate. Hands sliding up to tangle in hair. Being pulled closer by the waist.

Your hand moving down to tug at her button up.

“Would you let me take care of you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. Waiting for permission.

“I’ve.. I’ve never…because of my greenness… no one’s ever…” Elphaba nervously sputtered out.

“That’s alright… if you want me to, I can lead. All you have to do is let me take care of you. You deserve it Elphie…” You said as you looked into her eyes.

“Okay… please just know… I am green everywhere…” She looked so vulnerable at that moment. Fear of rejection due to her complexion having been hardwired into her brain.

“I don’t care about that, Elphie. I think you’re truly beautiful. All over, inside and out.” You said with a smile of reassurance. And with a small smile and nod in return, you went ahead.

Careful fingers danced their way from one button to the next before pulling the white shirt over her shoulders and down her arms.

She gasped at the foreign sensation of fingers ghosting over her black bra covered nipples. Hands coming to rest on your waist.

“Let’s get you somewhere where you can relax, pretty lady.” You giggled slightly at the evident blushing at your use of a pet name. Guiding her over to her bed. Laying her down on her back with you sitting in between her legs.

“What now?” Elphaba asked, not knowing what to do or what exactly came next.

“Next, I’m going to get you ready. And then I was going to use my hands. Are you okay with that Elphie?” You watched for her response. Making sure to give her plenty of warning and above all ensure her comfort and enjoyment and give her room to say no.

“I trust you…” Her eyes conveyed the same thing she said. Her hand reached for yours to hold.

A small smile graced your features as you leant forwards to kiss her. Hands dragging along exposed collarbones until they reached the bra clasp and undid it. Sliding it off through her arms.

Hands started to gently grope at her bare breasts as your hips slowly pushed forwards into Elphaba’s to add pressure.

“Mmff!” The girl below you’s moan was muffled by your mouth on hers. She held your waist. You started to slowly grind into her. The both of you getting worked up.

Continuing your movements while slightly changing the rhythm now and then. You watched as the girl beneath you slowly relaxed.

When you thought you had made her wet enough, your grinding ceased and you moved over to straddle one of legs to make room around her core.

Breaking apart while one of your hands trailed up underneath the girl's long skirt. You once again made sure.

“Is this okay?” The words felt familiar to your ears..

“Please.” So did hers.

Reaching her undergarments, you felt around to find the seam. Your fingers finally finding purchase around them as you pulled them down and over her legs. Watching the string of arousal that attached to it as you tossed them aside.

“You’re so wet… that’s good.” Looking up to meet her blown out pupils.

You moved so you were laying over top of her while keeping your hand around her core so you could make out with her to ease the tension.

Your middle and ring finger trailed up and down her slit. Collecting the slick and rubbing it around on your fingers.

Next, you gave her clit a gentle rub, eliciting a whine from the ravenette. You continued to rub and then press down with your thumb, while your other fingers circled around her entrance.

Finally, you stuck a single finger into her. Her body reacted by bucking up. You were getting riled up just watching her.

“Nngg, t-that’s, so so good.” Elphaba’s usually reserved nature was coming undone.

You added another finger and sped up the pace. Thrusting them up into her while letting the back of your palm rub her clit.

“Good girl… that’s it.” You praised her. Elphaba’s noises were becoming more frequent. You could tell she was getting closer by the way her walls were gripping your fingers, trying to suck them back in.

Speeding up your movements and then latching onto one of her nipples was enough for the witch to climax.

Her loud moan came with the fluttering of her walls. Suddenly, for just a few seconds, the both of you were floating, before gently landing back down on the mattress. She had unknowingly used her magic.

Her pants slowly subsided. After pulling your hand away and licking it clean, you trailed kisses from her chest to her face, where you peppered light kisses around her mouth.

“You did so well… you’re so beautiful Elphie…” you whispered into her ear. Rubbing her shoulder then going to nuzzle into her neck.

Elphaba, still coming down from her high, wrapped her arms around your back, and planted a kiss on your head.

“Do… would you like.. a turn..?” She slowly said, unsure of her words.

“No, but thank you for offering, sweet girl.” She could feel you smile into her neck.

“I just wanted to show you how much I care for you. You don’t have to give anything. You deserve all the pampering in the world.” Your genuine words brought liquid emotion to the girl with the emerald eyes.

She pulled you closer. No more words needed. Just the moment.

——————————————————————

You were screwed.

In the last few weeks, the two girls you had slept with rivalry had only grown since you had seen both of them. Both of them going out of their way to try and best the other to get closer to you.

They openly loathed each other, no more fake politeness or toleration. Simple unadulterated loathing.

Galinda would sweep you away from Elphaba to sit with her and her friends at lunch. Then Elphaba would retaliate by making sure you sat next to only her during class.

All the back and forth and the complicated feelings was making your head spin.

Currently you were on your way to the two girls' dorm to return study notes Elphaba and graciously lent you.

As you approached the wooden door, knocked, then opened it halfway, you stopped. What were those… noises… you were hearing? They sounded… angry? But also…… oh. Oh.

You pushed the door open the rest of the way and froze.

Galinda and Elphaba. The two girls who swore loathed each other. We’re in bed together. Naked.

Phrases like, “I hate you so much, ohhh!” And “I hate you m-more, she doesn’t *pant* deserve you. Ahh!”.

…

What the fu-

*thud*

Out of shock, you had dropped the heavy notebook you were carrying. Both girls let out a little shriek and sprung apart as though they had burned one another.

“Um… i-I…. Uhhhhh…. Glad you two aren’t fighting anymore……???” You nervously stated. Feeling very awkward at interrupting what was happening between them. Though at the same time ecstatic that they were finally getting along in their own weird way.

“Y/n!” Both of them said at the same time. They glanced at each other and then back to you. Your cheeks flushed and eyes looking anywhere but them. Everything was quiet and still.

….

“Well…. You might as well get over here and help.” Galinda’s unwavering confidence had come back into play as scootched over and patted the empty bed space next to her.

“G-Galinda!” Elphaba stated in shock at her roommates sexual confidence in adding a third.

Both looked at you and waited for a response.

“Uhm…. O.. okay” You replied quietly, still embarrassed.

You closed the door and walked over Galinda’s king sized bed.

You let out a help as Galinda yanked you into bed and into a fiery kiss. Her giggles reverberated through the room. Elphaba laying beside you so she could trail kisses along your neck.

Your head was reeling under the sensual onslaught from the two girls.

This was exactly what you wanted. Your girl problem dilemma was over. They both liked you, you liked them, and now they liked each other. This could really work out.

Your heart's deepest desire was fulfilled .

[thedarkestrivernymph]

A Heart Of Gold

Platonic! Y! Royal Child x Cruel/Uncaring! Royal! Mother! Reader x Y! Mistress! of cheating husband x Y! Brother in Law

word count: 11,5k (probably one of the lengthiest fics I have ever written haha)

warnings: mention of abuse (both verbal and physical), neglect, infidelity, unhealthy relationship dynamics, murderous thoughts, morally gray! reader, paranoia, harassment, unconsenual acts, kissing, mentions of death(s), killing, breakdowns/meltdowns, generational trauma, unhealthy mother/child dynamics, obsessive behaviour, classism, misogynistic views, homophobia, not completely accurate historical depictions!

©Copyright - 2025 - thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

Author's note: Boy this got lengthy, still I hope you enjoy it! :) So let's dive into it, shall we?

“A heart of glass shatters, but a heart of gold melts into something newer and sturdier. Into something dangerous and menacing. It molds to a new life of cruelty, while the heart of glass is swept away, its pieces discarded and forgotten. I don't want to travel with the wind, fleet in one blink, I want to be reborn, experience freedom for the first time in my life. I want to have a heart of gold.”

Do you know the feeling of an itch that no matter how much you scratch, how incessant you drag your nails over that patch of skin, you can just never get rid of? That was motherhood, but worse.

For you, at least.

The life of a commoner was jarring, a constant battle for life, that most, no matter how hard they tried to intimidate, would never succeed in defeating. Most died young, early thirties or fourties, with nasty diseases of all kinds being the reason—and yet they always seemed so lively compared to nobility. The nobility with all of their masquerades and dramatics. They never were allowed to let the intricately crafted mask crack, even for a second, if they valued their life that is.

Perhaps that's why you had envied those mindless pigs most of your life—working away until their bones cracked and fell into themselves. That mindless devotion and that foul language they could use whenever they pleased, the sheer stupidity in believing in something higher and more valuable than the crown, was so vastly different to your own complex persona. Your life was quiet, filled with studying, tea-parties that never reached deeper than surface level of conversation and endless long nights where you would raise your gaze to the heavens above and just stare at the stars, as if the answers you desperately longed for were written in them.

You were like a man deprived of water, thirsting for something to quench your endless need for freedom. Any kind you could get your hands on, you clutched on—wether it was the question of if you maids were to dress you in blue or white or rather in violet and yellow, or something simple if you wanted to wander around in the gardens that day; you loved all these small luxuries. Even the pearls of your mother's, now hanging from your neck like heavy cobblestones on a string, felt nothing compared to the little escapades you were allowed. And the needle you were embroidering with in this old moaning manor pricking you gave you some semblance of joy, that at least in some shape or form there was something under your control.

Until even that had lost its taste—like your once most favoured dish that had reminded you of childhood in your youth, the fields, the servant's children that you would play with after repetitive lessons and so much more, one day none could comfort you anymore. As many others, you grew out of your juvenile thinking much too soon and in a way that was far too shattering of an experience.

Sweet seventeen and the marriage with the crown prince was held. You had known before, it was to be expected, you had anticipated the dreadful day when you would have to give up your freedom in exchange of legacy and reputation, yet actively knowing and actively being were two vastly different states one could experience. So as the princess you had been, you had bowed down to everyone in power; to your mother with her stern gaze and even harsher words, to your father with his cane as sharp as his gaze was, to the king of a different nation, you had only visited once in childhood who was nothing more than a distant memory at this point in time and lastly to your future husband, who would not reign, but still hold enough power to crush a small country with just his fist.

So you bore the stranger a child, one not out of love, but out of duty to the crown, to your family—to everyone who had invested in you as a powerful tool as the key to peace between two neighbouring kingdoms. “He’s pretty. His eyes are like mine,” were his first words upon seeing the crying infant still caked in blood with you drenched in your own sweat. The world had crumpled in that moment, only to rebuild itself a second time in your life as you remembered that nothing ever was out of love. Everything was done out of ego. At least concerning nobility and royalty. And you were royalty.

That’s when the curse had started—the deep loathing for something that didn’t deserve it.

“Mother!” you frowned, determined to keep your gaze on the embroidery in your hands.

“Mother!” another high-pitched cry and you swore a vein on your forehead was about to just pop open and deflate like a par of lungs you wanted to slice through with a scarpel.

You glanced at the door, counting the steps and sure enough it took the little demon thirty-two before bursting right in as always. “Mother! There you are— look, look mother! Misses has just taught me how to..” you tuned out after the second word, already feeling another headache bloom between your brows, subtly ushering your maid closer so that she could take care of the chaos. Ignoring the way the boy protested and cried as he was led out with the excuse that his dear mommy was tired and in need of rest.

That had been ten years ago—in fact you were just melodramatic and liked to revisit your past, thinking about how foolish you had been to ever belief love was more than a myth. Sighing you took another bite from your steak.

“Mother, have you heard? I won this year's tournament again.” the deep voice startled you.

“Oh, you have?” another bite and it would be over soon, another bite and you wouldn't have to talk any more than necessary.

“Yes mother, has father not informed you?” no, don't let your thoughts get bad, he didn't mean to mention his father.

“Mother, you and father haven't been talking much, have you now? How utterly disappointing. I had assumed that he at the very least would share my achievements with you, mother dear.” you were losing it again, because you could swear he was doing it on purpose, he was rubbing salt in your wound knowingly. No, no he wasn’t, you were just paranoid, instead why not focus on the flower motive on the egde of your plate or the rich red swirling in your cup or—

“Mother? You seem rather pale. Would you like me to call your maid?”

He isn’t doing it on purpose.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He didn't ask to be born, he was just here because he had to—as you were, as the worker ants and the pigs were, as the common folk were.

Just breathe.

“Mother—” no you couldn't just breathe.

Your fists slammed against the dinning table, causing silverwear to clink against porcelain and wine to spill. It dripped to the floor and with it your last nerve.

“Don’t you dare, Nicholas! You and I, as well as any other resident in the palace, are very much aware of your father's open infidelity—and to incessantly remind me of it, is just unacceptable! When will you grow out of your boyish theatrics and take life seriously? You should concern yourself more with your studies and yourself than my matters!” you were standing, you didn't even know when you had stood up, but now you were face to face with your son for the first time in the duration of the entire dinner—and you tasted bile. Luscious chestnut coloured hair, forest green eyes and fair skin with an oval face; he was the copy of his father, quite literally and everything in you felt deeply disturbed by it. Or perhaps it was because of the way he would stare at you, even as a baby, with this sort of hunger, this all-consuming need to take and take, without giving back, like a parasite in your guts, feeding off whatever you consumed.

“Mother, you wound me." he had the audacity to jest, smiling that bone-chilling smile. Sometimes you wondered if that really was your son and not just a demon that had slipped into his skin at birth. “I am your son, mother. I worry for you. You’ve had such a weak constitution since my childhood, I cannot help myself.” devil. You shuddered.

Beyond yourself and all responsibilities that came with being bound to the crown, you stormed off. Your maids rushed behind you but you swat them away, yelling at them to leave you be, that you just needed fresh air and throwing what other excuses you managed to come up with at them. And they were quick to listen—even though with great reluctance scattering like baby ducklings would, while the guards stationed in front of the dinning hall were watching you silently. Everyone was, constantly.

You huffed, hands gripping your gown like the talons of a bird clung to a mouse and you ran—perhaps if your mother could see you now, she would claw her way out of her grave to berate and scold you like the child you were behaving as, but you couldn’t stop your legs from moving forward, even as your feet started to ache and you felt something warm run down your shoe.

“Your Majesty?” you halted.

“What is the matter? You seem upset?” Charles. Your gaze softened, something that happened far too little. Soft brown curls with a matching chocolate brown gaze all dressed up in a relaxing blue. He was like a gift wrapped in a blue bow.

“I was just walking by. All council members were called.” he was blunt and clipped as always—comfortingly so, gazing at you in thinly veiled concern.

Before you could spout whatever irresponsible nonesense that your mind could conjure up, he had clasped a hand around your wrist, quick to check for curious eyes that would misinterpernt the rather narrow distance between you two, before pulling you both aside into an empty chamber nearby—the room not much bigger than a closet, obviously something forgotten.

You opened your mouth ready to speak but he beat you to it.

“Is it your husband again? He’s a fool. To think he can feel free of guilt when his lovely wife has to suffer because of his childishness.” you felt his hand cup your cheek and you melted, the darkness and slight chill of the room suddenly secondary, as warmth from your very insides bloomed.

“I don't know anymore, Charles,” you sighed, head against his chest. You found a steady rhythm there, something unlike your life.

“He brought her here. Here! Into the castle. He wants to make her his second queen, his second queen! That's unheard of but he's so stubborn and he won't listen. Not to me, not to his advisors—he just doesn’t listen.” there was some relief in sharing your pain, some relief that at least someone would listen to what you felt and thought.

“It's a scandal.” he admitted in a whisper, now rubbing your back in gentle circles. “To have a mistress for all the world to see and to want to elavate her status to yours. He’s crazy. You deserve better, much better.” he consoled you and reassured you, making you feel more at ease with your teenage-like outburst. You ought to pull yourself togehter, (y/n). Be quiet and strong. Don’t cause a fuss, men don’t like that. Yeah, mother, you did everything right, but father still had three bastards he brought home.

Exhausted you groaned, embracing the very chest that Charles has been offering you since the first day at the palace. Sometimes you would wonder what would’ve been if you had married Charles instead of your husband, but you never thought too long or too hard about it, because to be tuthful the prospect that you could’ve lead a happier life depressed you.

Something wet rolled down your cheek.

You pulled away.

“Thank you, Charles. You’ve always been very understanding. But I should return to my chambers. It’s late. Where were you headed to again? You should make haste.” you were quick to dismiss as usual. It was unheard of that in-laws were so close with eachother, especially when the gown you were wearing once had been your husbands gift. It was like his cruel paw extended time and place to even shackle you in place here in the furthest corners of the palace, alone with the man that you had— in your younger years at least— occasionaly thought about at night, when your husband would be working or have his occasional trysts with some courtesan.

He was quiet for a second or two, letting you spiral furhter into the dark place that had a permenant residence inside of your mind, only to startle you with a squeeze to your shoulders. “Are you certain? You still appear unwell and I would feel like a terrible brother-in-law if I just—” you didn’t let him finish.

“No, no need. I am absoloutely capable of returning by myself. Just you go.” and with that escaped before you could cry your eyes out in front his brother, even when he was the only human in the family of festering little demons, you would rather not let him catch you off guard. He was the apple Eve was tempted with only to fail the test, but you were better than that, you were a noble, not just any you were a royal, you wouldn’t fall for fate’s cruel tricks.

You rushed through the halls, your heels clicking with each step, as the night only turned darker and your thoughts only more frenzied. Finally you reached your chambers, your skittish maids, breathing out in relief, rushing towards you to check in on you and your trembling state. You waved them off, barking again to be left alone, only this time they wouldn’t. Suspiciously so.

“Why won’t you let me enter? Speak.”

“My queen, we would never think about witholding you from returning to your own chambers, but there is an issue of sorts, you see..” the oldest of the bunch spoke up, the same age as your mother would be if she was still alive and well.

With slits for eyes you glowered, now more persistent in your demand, even if it was one of your most loyal of maids, you wouldn’t be leniet enough to let them off the hook so easily. “Speak.”

“My queen it is that—”

Oh.

Staring at you so incredibly smugly, as if you couldn’t wipe the floor with her visage if you wanted to, was the twenty something mistress of your husband, of the the king, Maria.

How ironic of a name.

“Oh? If that isn’t the first queen. How delighted I am, to meet the woman the king adores as much as he adores me. And how beautiful of a woman you are! So graceful, even at your age, with a child that’s nearly old enough to build his own family! You must be proud! Certainly, you’re so lovely.” you felt your eye twitch. She was utterly shameless standing in the doorway to your chambers while dressed in nothing but a chiffony nightgown and black hair like the streaks of tint on paper. How utterly depraved and sick.

As she smiled too, you probably turned red in the face.

“I am so happy to finally meet you! I heard a lot about you—all he does is talk about you. I am glad you’re my opponent I can vie for the king’s affection with. Anyone else would’ve been bland in comparison to you.” her fingers brushed away a strand of hair in your face and it probably took all of your self-restraint not to snap and bury your fingers in her scalp to pluck away some of that inky black. “I am truly grateful.” her blue eyes were worse, piercing and clear like the streams of fresh waters—truly a horrible colour to be gifted to such snake, undeserving of such beauty.

“Why are you here? This isn’t the king’s bedroom, girl.” you were cold, slapping away her hand and trying to undermine her presence with the fact that you were older and more experienced, yet she just giggled. Was it wrong that she reminded you of your son? The both of them certainly were the same level of vile, making you feel uncomfortably unauthorative in their presence.

“Oh it isn’t? My mistake, your Majesty. But you can just call me Maria, no need to be so distant. Or you could get used to calling me Queen Maria. Pardon—is it a sensitive topic? You’re glaring at me so intensely, I am uncertain if I should fear for my life.” on second thought maybe being thrown into prison for bashing in the king’s mistress’ head against a wall didn’t sound so appaling. No, pull yourself together.

“I ask of you to move. These are my chambers. So move, now.” one more minute of this and you were sure you would end up growling like an animal, but thankfully she finally took the hint and brushed past you but not without a flying kiss your way. “See you soon, your majesty.”

At the end your maids held you back from tearing her apart like a rabid dog the moment she turned to walk away. Thankfully, they were also able to pull you into your chambers before fleeting before your outburst. Vases were flying—clothes ripped apart and you burned the single strands of black you found, above your lamp’s little flame. All while you stared up at the night sky, like you used to, asking the heavens why they had cursed you. Why a god couldn’t have let you be born as an empty-headed piglet, why you had to be able to understand language, why you just couldn’t rip anyone’s head off that treaded too close to you.

At the end of your breakdown you found your mother’s pearls scattered on the checkered tiles like the stars that mocked you from above. You pursued your lips into a smile. It was somewhat symbolic.

Mother was dead. Father too.

But you weren’t, not yet at least. So why waste it with stupid things such as deceny? You had desired for more than superficial workship of your body—you wanted real love, something to take your mind off your duties. And if the king was allowed such a thing, then you would just aquire one too.

Charles had always been friendly to you. Why not pay the favour back? After all, he was such a good brother-in-law.

The imaginary gods truly scorned you, didn't they? Because why else would you be dining with your husband, his mistress and your son. Were you truly nothing but the butt of the joke? Your presence meant nothing—all the years of hard-work, serving the crown and greater good, for what?

For Maria to wink at you and mock you in broad daylight, with even your son doing nothing but quietly watch. Father like son. How true that statement was.

Were you disappointed though? No, you didn't expect much of demons festering off others.

The eggs were cooked into gooey soft richness, just as you liked it, giving you some semblance of comfort. Today you were dressed in rich velvet purple; truly a gown for special occasions and this particular day probably was the most special out of all. It was the day you had anticipated all these upcoming weeks with nothing but an ache deep in your chest whenever you thought of it.

Today he would announce when the law would be finalized—and with its finalization the death of your dignity.

Maria would officially be the king’s second queen, not consort, not mistress—not even the occasional courtesan he liked to fuck, no, she would be of your status, when she was nothing but a count’s daughter. It was laughable really, you stabbed at the beacon on your plate as if it had committed a crime against you.

From childhood until your marriage to him, you as a royal princess had been kept endlessly busy with tutoring of all kinds; writing and reading first and foremost then state affairs, french, latin, philosophy, politics, how to properly sit and talk, embroidery and so much more that at eight you had started wishing to be born a pig, kept fed until slaughter.

“As you all know,” all heads drifted in his direction, sitting proud at the head of the mahogany table, “The law will be legalized by the end of the month and to celebrate this joyous occasion. I ask my first wife, to prepare a banquet for my love.” he probably didn't even see you as a human, only as a political ally.

“Of course, your Majesty. I would love to.” nevertheless you replied as if you had a choice in the matter anyways, flinching as soft hands snaked up your arms. “You will? That's wonderful news! I cannot share just how honoured I am that you will be planning this! Anything you make must be nothing short of astounding beauty!” was she trying to gain even more of the king’s favour? It certainly seemed to work on your lovesick husband, who only leaned back in his seat, the cushions were red—a colour worthy of a king and let his lips curl up into a tender smile, with moss greens that seemed to scarily soften up.

Had your husband ever been capable of such a look?

You couldn't remember him ever staring at you so lovingly. It was chilling to say the least. Perhaps even repulsing.

You were quick to look down at your plate again—wishing for nothing more but to peel her fingers off of you, hopefully with so much force that one of her fingers would clean-cut break into two. It wasn't a question of love nor jealousy after all; but a matter of respect, and she was downright waddling her tail in front of you in victory. As if she deserved your just title as much, if not more than you. Slut.

“Mother,” this time it was the voice of your son calling out to you, “it seems you will be occupied for the time being with the courtesan's banquet,” he sighed, “and I here I was anticipating to spend some time with you after my exams.”

Had he just—

Silence.

Even the servants could do nothing but stare at the prince wearing such a proud expression, as if what he did was the right course of action. As if he just didn't insult his father's current obsession with the occupation she had before he brought her into the castle.

Everyone knew not to mention it, not even in the passing. Just hinting at it could cost you lots yet here was the crown prince doing what he knew not to do.

Oddly enough, while electricity zapped through the air, something destructive brewing beneath the king’s icy cold gaze—you could nothing but gape in fascination at your spawn. Were you imagining it, or was he protesting against his father? If you didn't know it sny better, you would've thought he did it to defend your honour. But that was laughable.

It seemed the young prince had grown up, when you had no clue, but sometime ago probably, with the way he held his chin up high, no fear visible in his gaze all while holding his father's glare.

You would be lying if you said you weren't weirded out. Hopefully him acting out wouldn't put you in bigger trouble than you already were in. He could at least grant you such a favour.

“What—what did just leave your mouth?” the king practically spat, your husband rising a hand decked out with hefty golden rings.

“I said, father,” you internally groaned, this child was just determined to cause you misery, “Courtesan. Because that is exactly what she is. Isn't that right, Maria? Before father married you, you were nothing but a whore with your legs wide spread open to please—”

Thwack. The king loomed over his own son, like God, – if he existed – probably had over Lucifer to berate him one last time before he would've earned his fall from grace.

“Enough! One more word and I will forget myself entirely!” the threat rung through the entire dining hall, it rung so deep it seeped into your bones.

Nicholas’ cheek was left marked with imprints of fat rings that managed to slice through skin and leave one side of his face a swirl of red and slowly forming purple. He hadn't just hit his son, but he had done so, with such force that his head was moved out of your sight.

Yet he still talked; spat out words like they burned his tongue.

“What, father? Can't handle the truth—”

“Edwin! Oh dear!” Maria’s fingers only now left your arm. She was rushing to the man that was supposedly your husband, to stop him from actually killing the boy he had wanted so badly. Immediately she latched onto him, practically throwing herself at him, dotting on him, doing her best to calm his wrath and somehow it worked. While all you could do was watch in stunned silence.

Your cousin, what was her name again— ah, yes, Lilian— would’ve surely snorted out a laugh at the scene. She found everything dark and morbid to be fascinating, perhaps that's why she had married a duke that would occasionally beat her into a bloody pulp?

Getting sidetracked again, weren't you? Point is you could accept much, but this, this was crossing a thin line that needed to be kept up for the balance of all things holy to the crown. If a mistress managed to throw everything out of order, then you truly had failed all your marital duty as a partner and as a queen.

Perhaps mother had been right? But then again, father had never been the big romantic, you were sure the man had been incapable of falling in love—obviously different to the Edwin you thought you had known all those years. He seemed enamored and it was truly terrifying.

The meal ended shortly after with the King storming off and his mistress right with him. Now, you never enjoyed being affectionate with Nicholas, however even you had to admit that you should probably offer the boy some words of wisdom.

Even if you liked to think of him as a little gremlin with a copy of his father for a face, you knew he wasn't exactly the same as him. Sometimes, it was hard to admit, your son did manage to spark some motherly affection in you, as scary as it was. So sighing, you rounded the table and your gaze landed on the brunette boy.

“Come, let's get you cleaned up.” was the most affectionate mumbling you forced out from between your lips. Only to turn around almost immediately, not waiting for him to collect himself as you wandered out and away from the dining hall. There was a short burst of laughter—probably, you weren't sure, you hoped it wasn't crying. You hated seeing him cry. He was an ugly crier. Then you heard footsteps behind you and soon passing by a few of your family portraits, the irony not lost on you—your life in contrast to the perfectly crafted deception painted onto these canvases—you found yourself in your study.

“Sit.” your words were always clipped when you talked to him, weren't they? It was hard to remember.

Nevertheless you rummaged through your drawers, the subtle scent of wood mixing with the incense that you were quick to ignite.

Funny, so that's what your study looked like? It was organised and thoroughly dusted, with each book and document in different neatly arranged piles. He remembered never been allowed in here as a boy, only able to take sneak peaks at you at your desk while the door closed in behind his nanny's somber face. Now it made sense, you feared a child would ruin your precision and need for perfection. Oh, mother, is that the reason you shun me so?

You felt that unexplainable chill again, which would always travel down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. See that look in his eyes? Those soulless green orbs you swore would burn a hole into your face from how intensely he was staring at you as you sat down in front of him. That's exactly why you didn't want anything to do with him, he was just—so peculiar.

“Close your eyes.” was your next command, not being able to stand the abyss you found in your own son’s gaze. You waited while you prepared the cotton through soaking it in alcohol.

And thankfully he listened. His eyes fluttered shut.

“Mother” he spoke. “Mhm,” you hummed.

“Mother, aren't you mad at father?” you paused, inhaled, already unnerved before continuing to pat his cheek gently.

“It's not in my place to question what the king does, neither is it yours Nicholas.” a soft sigh escaped you, “You ought to behave yourself. The little stunt you pulled at dinner tonight was dangerous. He may be your father, but before all else he is the king. And you should respect him until the crown is yours. Or do you wish to ruin your future just because?”

“It wasn't just because—” you chuckled, letting your hand fall away from his cheek as he forced the words from between his teeth.

“Oh?” you used the same look your mother always gave you—a scoff and a frown combined to make the one on the recieving end feel disgustingly guilty. You shook your head at him, youth.

“The reason isn't of any importance, what is of importance however is you ascending to the throne. And you cannot do so if your father hates you so. You may be older and of pure blood, but if the new woman at his side falls pregnant with a boy and you continue to be foolish, then you can just stand and watch everything being ripped away from you.” were you getting emotional, describing your future too while trying to warn him? Maybe. You didn't realise it until your son threw himself at you, alright, maybe not literally but he embraced you, as if you were the child and he the parent.

You stilled.

When had been the last time you hugged your son? You couldn't remember. The moment was peaceful, oddly so and just for a split second you forgot of your revulsion towards that child and let him clutch onto you.

“Mother,” he breathed against your shoulder, startling you, “Mother he’s openly betraying you. While the whole nation watches. You don't deserve this mother, you deserve a better man. If I had been my father I wouldn't have—” you immediately pushed him away.

Did you mishear?

“Don't—don’t ever talk like that again!” you declared, instead of questioning it further, immediately assuming that the fault lied in your twisted mind. You must've misunderstood you must've—

Something was brewing beneath his exterior, you could tell. Something dangerous flicked in his gaze, something that you knew justified your fear towards your own spawn. Now, any minute, you swore he would burst and unleash his inner demons.

“Mother,”

“I apologise.” he smiled. You felt yourself release a breath, one you weren't aware you had been holding.

“I didn't think about my words, I am truly sorry.”

You quickly wrapped things up after that and it was not long before you send him off on his merry way. If he continued to talk about his father as if he wished for him to be only a memory and his skeleton six feet under the earth, then he would only spiral into a world of trouble and take you with him.

Besides—since when was he this rebellious? You sighed, feeling pain bloom between your brows.

Was this some sort of mockery?

To shame you continuously?

Or why for god's sake was this bitch in your chambers again?

“Your Majesty!” she chirped and you wished you could claw your eyes out and stuff them into her mouth so she would finally shut up.

“Child…”

“Maria, it's Maria, your majesty!” she huffed, then pouted, again clad in nothing but her nightgown, underwear really; silk that fell over her shoulders and reached down to her ankles.

“Besides—,” she pouted and you started to question the sanity of this woman, “You're not much older than me, your Majesty. Mhm, like an elder sister! How about I call you queen sister? Since we both will be queens!” she giggled.

Had she been dropped on her head at birth? You couldn't help but stare wordlessly, as she interlinked her arm with yours.

“Again. This is not the king’s chambers.”

“But queen sister—”

“Don't call me that.”

“But—”

“I said don't call me that!” you screamed.

Great. Now you were causing a scene in the hallway, with your maids and the guards watching. Great.

However you hadn't been prepared yet for the grand finale—suddenly she bursted into tears. Graciously of course, she was a lady, a lady with many tricks up her sleeve that is. She was crying, seemingly an endless stream, sobbing and quivering, staring up at you with big puppy-dog eyes.

If there was a god in heaven, you were certain that he hated you.

“My queen” she was still sobbing, now leaning forward so her cold lips could brush against your ear.

“You scream at me again and I’ll tell the king that you insulted me to my face.”

You gasped, this cocky little—

Yet what could you do? You knew one of her words amounted to a bar of gold to him; something to be treasured, possibly sacred. But you, he never had viewed you as such, you were the mother of his child and the queen yes—but your presence, —you knew as much as that— never has been valuable besides those two strong points. He saw you as an ally, a friend of sorts, a political fawn; someone with an intellect, but nothing more.

You didn't want to imagine his anger at even just daring to belittle what was rightfully his, that you, the queen in his little game of chess, would've mustered up courage that bordered on dangerously life-threatening.

So you sighed, with liquid anger pumping through your veins and your face flushing from the pressure of it. Your temples hurt again. Your head hurt again

You didn't register her leaving with a shit—eating grin on her face, nor the fact that one of your maid, Leslie, was half-carrying you inside your chamber, having to sit you down on your bed before feeding you your medicine in form of a brew.

It was funny, like your memory was wiped clean—as if your mind was a clean slate similar to how it had been when you were a drooling infant. Everything around you eased, the tension, the worries—what even was there to worry? You hummed, even purred in satisfaction as you drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

You hated waking up. Peace never existed beyond a deep slumber void of dreams. You hated dreams, you hated being dragged up and dressed like a doll and hated the sky. Especially the sky with its sparkling stars all mocking you, calling you as you were; defeated.

Utterly so.

Your reminisced about your beloved husband calling you to discuss something urgent with him. What could've been this urgent matter, one may ponder? Well, it was Maria.

“Have you started your preparations for the ball, yet?” his tone was colder than usual.

“No, but I am very much in—”

“Then haste. It will be held soon enough.”

You nodded politely, not wanting to aggregate his nerves further. So he waved you off and dismissed you, until he abruptly spoke up.

“And make sure that boy learns some manners.” his glare was so sharp it cut into your nape.

“Will do, husband.” you fled the room after that.

Perhaps you did not actually flee, but you certainly felt inclined to do so. Sometimes you did fantasize about escaping to a lone island, one that would resemble the paradise your nanny had always spoken so fondly of. What was her name again? You didn't remember, you couldn't, no matter how hard you tried because all you called her was Mommy—obviously only behind closed doors, away from any eyes or ears that could rat her out to your real hag of a mother.

She had been the only thing close to a mother's loving embrace which you so frequently would read about in books; fairytales and romances. An angel with crooked teeth and a hunchback, but an angel no less, with a softness to her that you never were able to replicate no matter how hard you tried. She was simply of different blood that wasn't blue nor red but gold; she wasn't like the rest of them. But you were like them, hiding behind a mask, no matter how terrible life whipped at you to reveal the truth—you wouldn't, you were trained to not give in after all, drilled from a young age.

And she had been so adamant to free you, telling you stories about juicy fruits with tastes rivalling that of honey, a sky that never darkened and greenery that never faded—if you narrowed your eyes to slits, you could imagine the royal garden spread out in front of you to be the paradise she so often spoke about.

You sighed again. Those were just childish fantasies. Something she had made up to bring you happiness, even if your shared wonder only lasted two years before she was caught being too affectionate with you and discarded.

As a chubby five-year old you had been devastated and confused, wondering why she had left you behind to fend for yourself, alone with the wolves. But as you matured, as your own son's nannies came and disappeared, you realized it had never been her fault in the first place. They had been at fault.

“Your majesty!”

Some of your days were good, tranquil even, but some—some were either destructively evil or somberly empty.

“Your majesty—” and today you wanted to be somber, away from everything. But fate didn't want this. Of course it didn't, fate despised you as you did your mother. So even if you had promised to betray fate instead and experience an adventurous tryst with the man in front of you just out of spite, you felt no desire to speak with him or anyone else, after the short but life-threatening conversation you had had with his majesty.

“Has he upset you again?”, Charles sighed, his initial enthusiasm fading, “It seems every time we converse you're miserable.”

Now that he mentioned it—he wasn't wrong. He was like some sort of saviour, someone that reminded you of your nanny so long ago and your hardened heart softened again. You didn't want to push him away, not Charles, not the man with soft-features, a tender look in his eyes, with his dashing looks and personality—not when he was only a few years younger than you. So little in fact, it wouldn't matter at your age anymore.

“Seems so.” you muttered and you couldn't hold your hand back from outstretching to pull him down besides you on your little white-painted bench placed in the shades, with another piece of embroidery in your lap. For a moment he was silent, stunned by your fingers wrapped around his wrist for all eyes to feast on—and continuing to hold it even as he sat.

“It seems you're always there for me, Charles.” was this a fever dream? Or why else would you, the queen, tempt him so, seductive as always, yet bolder than ever, calling him so intimately out here—hopefully out of the ear of onlookers to the spectacle; your maid and a few guards scattered around.

And then you even fluttered your lashes at him, so blindingly beautiful that it hurt. Tantalizing with your lips that he was certain were sweeter than sugar, and the new heart-robbing smile on those soft pillars of warmth. The slope of your nose, the apple of your cheek, everything about you was sin incarnate and he was just helpless to the devil’s calls. Just what if he leaned down and—

“I thank you.” god you teased him.

“It's my pleasure. As a devotee to the crown.” he managed to finesse and gloss over his little stammer with a bright smile and you, thankfully, let it slip.

Or at least he assumed so.

Actually you were giggling in your head like one of those young village girls, when a boy would ask for a dance—you had watched that spectacle occur one time out on the countryside for some respite after mother's passing.

What a time it had been, so beautifully peaceful with only the birds to yap away— similar to now, the only difference was that now you were holding his hand, and nothing, not even the king could prevent you from enjoying this moment to the fullest.

“Charles. How long have we known eachother?”

“Fourteen years and counting, your Majesty.” he answered, with warmth in his eyes. The day was warm—the sun blazing and at its peak, with the garden neatly trimmed, sitting beneath the proud tall that was probably older than both of you combined, the shade provided you would with protection from her rays.

“Thank you, Charles, for always consoling me in times of need.” your fingers slithered between his own, entangling your hands under lingering eyes, yet in that little moment you found yourself not caring. Life was short, so why shouldn't you be able to enjoy life to the fullest as his majesty. If it came and he would hear of this, you would accept whatever punishment, because you were sick of not being free.

Then again you felt freedom spread her wings above you with Charles by your side.

You smiled, softly, gently, tenderly even. A smile not even your son had ever earned from you—something he probably never would, no matter what he tried, because he was still that man’s son with motives behind his façade that you could never figure out. He was still the baby that terrified you with the ravenous hunger in his soul reflected in his gaze.

And that very son, was plastered against one of the castle windows, his glare bearing down on you both, if possible, it would have burned a hole through your face from the sheer intensity of it. You had always viewed your child as creepy—unsettling to be around for too long. But you had never possessed any evidence for it—you knew not to blame a seedling, something that had sprung from you, but you just couldn't stop yourself from feeling dread when meeting his eyes.

Unbeknownst to you, this silent horror was not completely irrational.

Actually it was simple survival instinct.

Especially when the heir to the kingdom craved nothing more but your motherly love and seeing you give affection to his uncle, of all people – his enemy — he couldn't help but trash your favourite vase. Actually he wasn't that different to you in that sense—he needed chaos and destruction to satisfy the inner barbarian in him.

“Mother,” he slammed his fists onto your desk. He had been snooping around your study—his favourite past time activity since he had managed to steal the second pair of keys to the room you viewed as sacred and safe. If you just knew, Mother.

“You give, Mother. To everyone but me.”

he was trying to maintain his composure, to not burst into a jealous rage from seeing you intertwined hands, the close proximity you shared—the smile plastered onto your face much more similar to that of a young maiden experiencing her first love than the queen with a heart of ice.

The moment his uncle dared to lean forward to brazenly press a kiss to your knuckles, was the moment he snapped. Destruction reigned over your study, his desire for carnage so raw, he treated craftsmanship like flesh and blood, strangling them as if they owed him an apology.

Then finally it was over.

As it was, peace settled over his silhouette, drenched in his own sweat in the stifling hot room, panting like a rabid dog.

“Mother,” you both were gone now from his view, he should haste, he knew, but he couldn't leave without these last words.

“If you won't give me your love willingly, as a mother should. Then I will take what is mine to own. I will overthrow father, be the king. You won't be able to escape, me, your son. You won't shun me no longer, mother. I won't allow it.”

Mother I will own your leash.

When you finally parted—you felt light and airy. Freedom was on the tip on your tongue, and butterflies danced around your hollowed out chest. Summer lingered on your skin, warm and sandy, reminding you of beaches you had never visited and tropical fruits that run over the back of your hand when you squeezed tad too tightly.

You hadn't felt so giddy in a while, nothing could ruin your good mood, not your husband, nor his mistress and neither your son. Cotton clouds were wrapping around you and you would be damned if you wasted time to not mock the stars back, staring up at the bright sky with a sneer. See, Mother? I will have my freedom too. I won't end like you, heartbroken by a man that never learned to love.

How foolish you were. Unassuming even. Years of living on this earth, shackled by fate and you still dared to dream.

So when the door to your study gave in and you entered to discover—

nothing amiss.

You sighed, you were being paranoid again, weren't you? How silly of you. Why would anything be out of order—children and most servants were forbid from entering. You handled delicate matters, events even; such as banquets and balls, carefully writing out invitations to selected guests, curating the invitations. Also you were responsible for all of your servants and the choices they made.

Before the old king’s unfortunate death you had been responsible with his care. He had deteriorated into a bad mental state in the last two years of his life; so much so that he couldn't recognise his son anymore. You had shared your husband's pain then, younger and naïve, a decade ago.

But you didn't, not anymore, not after so much you suffered through and with him only for him to sought out a courtesan and bend the entire law for her, risking even a coop!

You approached your sleeping quarters as always, while thinking about Maria, which granted you with a pulsing headache—in the literal sense. You should ask one of your maids, maybe Leslie, to brew you, your medicine once again.

“Maria." you greeted her dryly, the routine familiar now.

“Your Majesty!” she chirped as always and you had to control the twitch of your eye—or the twitch in your hand to slap her.

You opted to just silently stare at her, agitated by having to encounter her each night in your chambers, dressed in a nightgown you didn't want to imagine the king peeling off of her skin. She was trying to shame you, in front of your closest servants and in front of the guilt-stricken guard—that couldn't deny her request because in fear of attracting the king's anger.

“Your Majesty! I have waited and waited, just where have you been?” she was active as a child—but her eyes mirrored that of a snake, just searching for one of your weak points, so that she could torment you further until she managed to properly get rid of you.

“Maria please move. I would like to rest.”

“Then let's rest together! I am terribly tired—you know how tiring the king can be! So ravenous.” she snickered, much to the horror of your servants around you, “Oh..my apologies. Am I hurting your Majesty’s feelings?” her slanted gaze drooped, pity and amusement lingering in their depths.

Oh.

She did not—

That bitch!

“Leave!” you roared. Not towards her but to everyone around you, needing to feel her scalp beneath your fingers. You knew what you would be doing now was going to wind up ruining your just newly acquired saccharine taste of freedom, and probably destroy your life—but your anger gripped your by your shoulders and slapped you on your back as you roughly shoved her inside of your chambers.

Darkness shrouded the room in thrilling mystery of what to come—at least you thought Maria found it to be thrilling judging by her giddy following, excited to play a sick and twisted game of cat and mouse in the privacy of your chambers.

Your burst came all too soon and familiar—stripping you of any royalty, drowning out all the voices in your head trying to shackle the beast you would become when allowed. Usually you were only to do so in private, behind your doors—with only your servants to be subjected to your other face, but this time you wanted to indulge Maria. Show her heavenly grace and what it meant to be of royal descent.

You strangled her.

Everything unfolded in the blink of an eye, you couldn't stop or control yourself before tackling her causing her to stumble over your carpet in shock, crashing with into your nightshade, lamp shattering the moment it embraced the marbled floors while she embraced you as you both tumbled into your bed.

“Have the king! Have him all you want—like all the other men that you had between your legs. Warm him at cold nights! I urge you, please do.” hissing you leaned down to continue. “But know that you will never be able to be loved as much by the court, by the people, by everyone else. You won't survive this for too long. Even if I am beheaded after this.” you snarled while noting that she was indeed oddly calm beneath your palms. You were uncertain. Maybe it was the sheer shock? Perhaps she was weaker than you had assumed?

Or, she had died.

Panic surged through you. You weren't ready to be her murderer just yet! The thought alone made you flinch as if it branded your forehead in big bold letters in crimson. As if everyone could already bear witness to your crimes.

And suddenly you stood in front of the court.

Fingers pointed at you, screeching out blurts of sentences you couldn't make out, while you were dragged away by your own son, his grip on your hair so tight that you swore your scalp would peel off any minute now.

Kicked to kneel in front of the king, you begged and pleaded but mercy was foreign to the man that robbed you of your youth, and that you robbed of love and his sword swung high and far before—

You convulsed, gagging only at the thought, letting loose of her neck instantly, falling off of her onto the silken covers.

“I am sorry—” you mumbled, scrambling away from her, stubbornly looking away from the assumed corpse.

You were about to flee, kicking away the covers, dazed by the turn of events, trying to claw yourself back to your feet.

Run, Run, Run. It chanted inside of your head, and you surely would’ve managed to do so, if Maria’s fingers didn't clasp around your arm like a python’s jaw.

“Where are you going, your Majesty? We just started didn't we.” you shrieked, her hoarse voice genuinely startling.

Slowly you turned around to face the woman, with wide-eyed panic still clear on your face. “Let go of me!”

“Why? So you can take flight? Escape? Your majesty, even if you run, Edwin’s underlings will still catch you.” she was grinning, a feverish rush on her cheeks, mania clear and deep in her icy blue stare. “There's no one to run to, your Majesty. No where to hide. Embrace it. You're a monster. Old and greedy, craving things that no longer are yours.”

Was the bed coming closer? Or were you being pushed down? Because soon enough you laid on your bed, another headache, so potent it nearly blinded you with its pain—left you at the mercy of her cruel words.

“The king doesn't love you. He never has. Never will.” she muttered, with purple blooming on her throat like blossoming tulips, “You suffer for naught, your Majesty. Why do you worry for someone with such little regard of your person?” it was a bitter pill to swallow the truth in her words—and even if you wished to protest, you couldn't.

You were tongue-tied from the agony, with suddenly lead instead of bones, only further sinking into the open arms of your bedding.

“You're a fool, your Majesty.” a laugh ripped free from her throat. “For ever agreeing to be alone with me, don't you fear what I could be? Don't you fear my hands on your cheeks? Don't you fear the lust for blood in my gaze?” her voice like a melody, like a drug to aid to your wounds—it worked better than the mix of herbs you usually downed to find relief.

“Will you kill me?” you asked, only to earn another boisterous laugh that felt like a whip on your soul accompanied with slanted eyes that slithered over your form.

“No, far worse,” she paused, gaze smoldering.

“I will love you and you will love me.”

Pause.

You gawked. What was she saying?

“What?” you spat, puzzled.

She was completely deprived of sisterly love, or so it seemed. This was bizarre, downright weird—had she gone mad? Now you feared whatever her sick mind conjured next.

Something morphed and shifted until a smile so daunting, that if it weren't for the pulsing agony between your brows, you would've slapped it off her face and gladly so, while simultaneously increasingly feeling as if you were trapped in the coils of a snake.

“Edwin doesn't see you, as I do, your Majesty. He cannot see the madness in you, as I can. The insanity in your eyes, the very same one I crave to have. He doesn't love you, he doesn't. Not like I do.” your brows scrunched up, puzzled, she truly spoke like a madwoman.

Maria only chuckled. Her gaze narrowed in on your lips, in a way that twisted your stomach in discomfort; the way a man leers at a woman he desires. What foolishness! She couldn't possibly mean such an atrocity! It was never heard of a woman with a woman—

And as if to prove you wrong, tear your worldview apart, she leaned down with heavy paws pressing onto your shoulders. Your corset seemed tighter. The air or the lack of it was stifling. She wouldn't, right?

Fate truly had never been kind to you—and now it proved itself to be only more cruel as her lips crashed onto yours.

She was feverish with soft lips and scraping teeth, her tongue poked and prodded as if she tried to hollow out the warm cavern of your mouth. Her scent lingered in your nose so strongly it made your eyes water—lavender mixed with something you failed to recognise as she smashed her mouth against yours over and over again, until you were convinced that she was trying to strangle you with the wet muscle in her mouth instead of her hands.

The moment she let go off your figure, as stiff as a board , she was smirking deviously, as if she won a prize in a competition. As if the prize was you.

“I promise—” she leaned down, languidly slow, as if she had all the time in the world with no concern for the ravenous chaos she had just unleashed inside of you, “that even after Edwin’s reign, you will stay queen by my side.”

A bone-chilling cold kiss pressed to your damp temple.

“Goodnight, my queen.”

Sleep was not kind enough to visit you that night or the night after even though Maria had abruptly stopped with her nightly visits after that faithful encounter—still, your head was a buzzing beehive of thoughts. You were overwhelmed and at a loss for words at the strangeness of it all. For her to kiss you and demand—No, you refused to ponder about it further.

Nevertheless as if fate wished to humiliate you further —the stars in the sky hiding behind the light of the sun at daytime mocking you — your son was glued to you for the past half an hour or so, even had send all your servants away and no matter how much you tried to pry him off he would have an excuse prepared smoothly evading all your accusations. It was creepy. Has he sensed something? He never was so persistent.

Nevertheless you still couldn't fathom why she had did, what she had done.

Even days later, it just didn't make sense. What benefit could she reap from forcing her mouth onto yours and behaving like a man? You shuddered just at the thought, everything about this situation was odd, vile, repulsing and something else. Something you wished to keep buried deep in you and left unexplored.

“Mother, look! It's a swan with ducklings.” he pointed out the window, at this very moment behaving much more closer in age to a child than to a man. “Yes, Nicholas. How grand.” you muttered dryly, eyes kept steady on the embroidery in your lamp while indulging him slightly, after countless failed attempts and of hushing him away, you had tired and the pounding headache that wouldn't relent didn't make you any more awake.

“Swans mate for life. Do you believe this one is mated?” your brow twitched in frustration, eyes kept steadily on your needle, going in-and-out of the tight fabric.

“I do not concern myself with such matters, perhaps you also shouldn't.” you muttered abrasively, watching the motive of a purple tulip come to life, something about it eerily similar.

“I believe that it was mated. Then rid itself of its mate. It knows it doesn't need one. Just look mother— all the cygnets that follow without her mate in sight. They all seem so happy. Especially the mother swan, the way she—” red obscured your vision.

Something warm and human dripped down your hand. You didn't move, didn't even breathe, all you did was stare at the needle sticking out of your hand.

“Mother?—” a gasp, “Mother!” his footsteps were overwhelmingly loud, even louder than his ramblings that were grating on your nerves.

“Oh Mother.” the condescending attribute of his tone was sharp and rung in your ears. “What have you done? Your beautiful skin,” he was mumbling again. God, when would this child stop mumbling beneath his breath! And his eyes full of fake pity concealing something much darker made you just want to pluck the needle from your hand and ram it into your throat, perhaps then the scornful look on your mother's face would finally stop haunting you every living moment.

“Mother, you're upset again, aren't you? You're always upset.” Nicholas face fell as if genuinely distraught, taking your wounded hand in his, prodding at the damage you caused. “Father doesn't know how to care for you, he is mean and brutish. To scold you for informing him that you can't possibly prepare the banquet because you're unwell and getting mad at you. He’s audacious, a fool. He doesn't deserve you—no one deserves you Mother. No one but me.”

You yelped as he pressed down onto the needle, causing further damage to your hand—the pain unbearably uncomfortable. For days your head was a dizzy spur of thoughts, paranoid and refusing to meet Charles and now, you couldn't even be properly be enraged about your son's foolishness. At least the mind-numbing headache of yours lessened thanks to the one in your hand.

Suddenly he was much closer, eyes a combination of bright and hopeful and sick. There was something manic about his gaze too, something that made you swallow thickly, alarm you once more to jot stare at the demon dressed in your son's human’s shell.

“Mother, I will be a fair king. I will be good. And I will take care of you in a way, no man or husband can. So just endure it for a while longer, I know you carry all this pain with you—and all of it is the reason why you can't love me fully. But if father, his whore and everyone else that upsets you dies—then you will be free. Then you will be free to love me how much you want. We can finally be happy mother.”

You were about to puke. Was this what you had allowed to grow? Over all the years, no matter how much you detested spending time with the little copy of Edwin, you had made sure he only had the best nannies, a great governess and tutors at hand. All for him to spew out such nonsense.

But you had known. Known since the day he was born, that Nicholas was not sane. And right now it both angered and chilled you to see your worst fears manifest in flesh and blood.

“Get lost. Out of my eyes.” you hissed, bathed in cold sweat. You had to get up and out. Needed to flee before you were given the moment to acknowledge that you were raising such cruelness beneath the facade of a noble. Perhaps what amplified your dread was that he—the look of insanity in his eyes, the hatred, yet longing mixing into a destructive love— and you weren't so different after all.

That you both craved motherly affection so intensely you both had spiralled, into different lows, but spiralled nonetheless.

“Mother—you don't mean that.” he smiled. Yet not calm anymore. He wouldn't hide it no longer. You deserved to know that he forgave you, that he saw your pain and ache and that he would ease it for you. Just let him destroy the world only to rebuild it in your name, so that you could finally love him.

“No.” you breathed. He didn't relent, clutching your hand as if it was sacred.

“No! Let go!” you shoved him away this time, crying out in pain, as the needle’s head now pierced through your palm. You were trembling. The creatures lurking in the shadows would now find you. Freedom was a dream, happiness equally but at least you used to have peace, at least you used to have Charles, but this new reality of yours, with your son as the same maniac you were in your youth, would destroy it all. He will take from you, as he always had.

Your anger boiled over.

It was a mistake—he was the heir for god's sake, no matter how foul his mouth had gotten!

Nothing changed the fact that it was done though.

You slapped him right across the face, as his father had done, startling him into a stunned moment of silence. He was as if frozen, shocked that the verbal abuse you inflicted on him would actually one day turn physical. For a moment everything halted, the particles of dust in the air, the chirping of the birds, the soft footsteps echoing around the castle and only shock remained.

Then he smiled.

“Mother—”

And you fled.

You scrambled to your feet, rushing out of the room in such a hurry, you still held your embroidery in your hand while out in the hallway, running pathetically slowly. This wasn't your son. Even after years you still refused the truth, you didn't ask for this! Fate was cruel, but it couldn't be this—not this! You were a queen now, your mother would've been proud, the same mother you had thrown off the balcony.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, sick to the stomach. No, not now! You couldn't cry now, not when duty and responsibility always came before being and feeling and living and— Before you even realized you plucked the needle from the back of your hand, throwing the embroidery against one of the oil paintings hanging nearby, hoping your blood could lay curses and if it actually could,

You hoped to curse this entire castle.

Everything should’ve changed after her death! You should've been free, should’ve lived a better life than her—but you were following into her footsteps, the same miserable marriage only used as a pawn, with the same excuse for a husband caring even little for his heir. You hated it, hated it so much you could burst!

“Your Majesty?”

“Charles,” you muttered, lip between your teeth. You groaned, stumbling forward, dressed in red—the colour which had adored your mother as she had laid lifelessly on the ground. Life was funny indeed wasn't it?

The man has been your angel for so many years, once more spread his wings embracing you in all his glory, letting your red taint him with the evil your mother, you and your son bore. It was in your blood, in your very DNA, you were bred to be a demon—perhaps that's why your son's eyes had always send a chill down your spine, not because he possessed the same potent green of his father, but he held the same wickedness in it. The one you recognised.

“By god!—”

And speak of the devil and he rushed towards you, immediately growling at his uncle that held you in his clutches. Yet before he could step further forward, the doors to his father's study opened, the room one of the largest and proudest and with its opening the king stepped out with Maria as always glued to his side.

All of them and the servants—all were staring at you, while you couldn't help but let your tears flow; your pounding headache, the blinding lights and the blurry edges in your vision everything you could focus on, all were maddening.

You were dying weren't you? This was probably the divine judgment for all your sins. Perhaps the stars were right to scorn and mock you; you were indeed pitiful, a creature born out of neglect and the same abuse you instilled on others now.

“What’s the meaning of this?” the king demanded as proud as ever, before the world was replaced by a void and swallowed you whole and the chaotic cries around you dimmed, until your own stopped.

Until you were no more.

Hopefully this time you would be reborn as a bird with fully fleshed-out wings.

[mtkay13]

Gonna post TWO hoboxus today because I CAN! (still desperately trying to catch up with my twitter posts LOL help I'm terrible at this)

From a meme based on art by KOTTERI, the author of Veil (among amazing other things). Find them on twitter @_K0TTERl_!

More musing below, as per usual! (Be ready it's a LONG one again)

I really hesitated with how I wanted to do this. The original had this gorgeous red poster that seemed like a perfect fit for WKX:

(@_K0TTERl_)

Either I went for the imagery of ZZS wistfully gazing upon the mysterious and eccentric WKX, which would definitely have been more aesthetic and undeniably fitting, or I went the semi-humorous route of channelling the "WKX fell for that ugly hobo and his gorgeous shoulder blades" meme-ified side of their dynamic.

Well, clearly that's where I ended up going, but I feel like explaining a bit.

For me, this picture was three-folds:

First part is the meme; it's kind of funny, kind of ridiculous, and sets the tone of what TYK starts off as; rather absurd, with its reasonable dose of dark humor, and the (at first seemingly improbable) meeting and love story between a silly dying hobo and a strange, suspicious, hedonistic gentleman. It felt thematically appropriate for TYK to twist the original image and put the obviously uglier one on the poster since TYK relies heavily on genre subversion to begin with.

Secondly, there is WKX. So, controversial opinion (/jk) but I don't think WKX was necessarily convinced or even really thought that ZZS was "a beauty" underneath his alleged mask. It was probably a mix of various feelings and teasing/provoking which lead to this joke. First, everything he expresses throughout the book and in extra 4; the fascination for this man who seemed too hide great strength and was of no known identity--who was probably more than what he seemed.

(I'm gonna push it just a little bit ((but isn't that the fun of literary interpretation)), but the "beauty under the mask" is not only physical. It could be a way to say, I think that beneath your raunchy, ridiculous attitude, beneath your gross appearance, beneath the pretense that you're a nobody, that you're a peasant, you're probably someone of great importance and great accomplishments, someone much stronger than you pretend to be--someone like me, perhaps, even. The shoulder blades references are, besides of course WKX *actually* noticing them, the observation of how ZZS moves, of how agile his body is, etc...)

Anyway-- the entire point of this intro is to say that to me, this isn't actually referring to that whole side of their dynamic (or not entirely), but rather to that passage that I am STILL OBSESSED WITH where Wen Kexing recognizes ZZS just from the way he's sitting in a restaurant, and that makes him feel things not entirely positive:

Zhou Zishu stepped into an inn alone. He chose a seat by a window, ordered a few side dishes and a jug of mulled rice wine, and drank it slowly while soaking in the sunshine. As soon as Wen Kexing walked in, he saw Zhou Zishu from behind. He didn’t know why, but he thought that this view was quite special—he could always pick it out of a crowd. Zhou Zishu did not sit with his back straight. Most of the time, he lounged indolently at an angle that looked exceptionally comfortable. Wen Kexing thought that it seemed as though nothing weighed on him; seeing him was enough to ease the heart. Wen Kexing unconsciously halted his steps. He stared at Zhou Zishu’s relaxed silhouette for a while, with no trace of an expression in his face or eyes. His heart swelled with some strange feeling—strange, in that it was no feeling at all. He felt as though this man was mocking him with this wordless posture; he who rushed around for one thing or another, who was burdened with so many cares, yet obstinately put on a devil-may-care persona. Zhou Xu—as carefree as duckweed, he thought, with a body like willow catkins. In all the world, with its boundless perspectives, where could you find someone who walked their path alone and never allowed anything to trouble them? Yet he was not apathetic—he had his joy, his anger, his sorrow—and they came in a flash as quickly as they went. Within the blink of an eye, he had forgotten it already.

(Tian Ya Ke, chapter 18, TL by Lianzi) (have I quoted this already??? If not I should have I love this passage so much)

AND THEN QUOTING ANOTHER PASSAGE (LOL), TL by me this time:

From the moment he'd noticed his shoulderblades, felt this rush of excitement, to when he'd started liking who Zhou Zishu was, when he'd thought——so this is the Commander of Tian Chuang. Suddenly, he'd felt as if he'd met his other self. Both of them, lone wolves caught in a hunter's trap, struggling for freedom to no avail, until they had resolved to coldly gnawing off their own legs in the end. He'd felt compelled to follow him around, watched him, until he suddenly realised—if Zhou Zishu could live like this, then surely, so could he?

(Full passage in this other post LOL)

So yes, THIS. Those two things. That's it. Need I say more? HAH OF COURSE I DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO (help)

More seriously--the way WKX is captivated by ZZS' apparent carefreeness and freedom, all the different feelings (or absence thereof, as he puts it, which I interpret as so distant from what he's used to feel that it almost feels like nothing at all) is what I was going for here.... By not showing his face at all LMAO

The envy, the frustration--the impression of being mocked, but also the longing, how it inspired him to follow along and try to be free like he was.

-cough- yes, so that was point 2 out of 3.

Now lastly, about ZZS himself and my representation of him as hoboxu. I think (?) I've written enough about him that I think I can keep this succint. I love how priest often makes a point of expliciting, in the book, how he's so often smiling, and how he's always incredibly energetic in the morning, as if the night of pain had never happened. I like to think that hoboxu is both a carricature of a ridiculous character that ZZS has fun embodying---but also a liberated expression of his deeper self.

WKX feels like he's mocking him, but ZZS is also mocking himself relentlessly, when he feels like the outside resembles the inside finally, when he feels ridiculous in these new robes, when he allows himself the most outrageous behavior---and then there's mocking life itself, mocking jianghu, mocking everything that he nonetheless deeply cherishes. It's almost... gently mocking, affectionate mocking of everything because his own life has become a joke yet he's still going to enjoy it to the fullest--drinking to his heart's content, rolling in the mud and visiting touristy sites (or so he intended).

In the end... the world is still in his own hands. He chose everything, chose the way he lived, the way he (would have) died and still has the power to dissappear at will--but he stays. Stays and endures what he pretends annoys him, because he can't help himself, because he's ridiculous and is aware of it and may as well have some fun while being so.

I can't seem to ever have enough of this, of this vibe. I wanted to have him laugh at and with WKX, at and with the people seeing him, at and with himself, at and with the narrative.

SO YEAH HAH THATS HUM THAT'S IT. You know what they say, it's only a fun meme if there's an essay behind it (noone says that help 😭😭😭😭)

I hope you had fun reading it and have a nice weeked 🤪

[transhawks]

Top Ten Hawks Moments of 2023

For Keigo's Birthday and for the end of this year, I have decided to make my top ten Hawks moments for all the chapters published this year.

10. "Hawks" gets torn into shreds by AFO

we had a lot of near-deaths for Hawks this year, but I think this was the most memorable as it happened, giving a very needed burst of humor to the AFO vs Hawks and the Heroes fight. Tokoyami's reaction was particularity heartbreaking.

9. Whatever Level of Gay was Achieved Here

This entire chapter was framed in a way that constantly put Hawks and AFO contrasting and melding and there are panels where their thoughts connect. I thought it was a very good way for Hori to make their dynamic fighting each other stand out. Also, the fight was ridiculously homoerotic.

8. Hawks Reminds Us It's About Connections, Stupid.

A theme for the post-Jaku part of this manga has always been heroes needing to bridge that gap and see if they can connect with the villains. It's interesting that Hawks has been the canon mouthpiece among the adults for that view when he so utterly failed his own narrative-assigned connection. I know there was so much pushback in this moment because Keigo again thought of Endeavor, but it stood out to me in repeating this allegory of OFA linking everyone as the solution to the conflict in the first place.

7. Realizing They All Have the Power to Make Their Own Narrative

Against a villain like One For All who wants to believe he's in his own light-novel, Keigo's own issues distinguishing reality and fantasies managed to settle down. He's always resigned himself to being a caged bird and a martyr, so being pitted against a villain so into life being a foregone conclusion helped Keigo remember they all have more agency than they give them credit for.

6. I think all of Keigo's Rizz was in Fierce Wings

Seriously, this is his normal fake hero persona on STEROIDS? It's fascinating how naturally this stuff comes to him. Like damn, he even has his tongue out, mocking All For One as he gets hoisted by his own petard, and has an arm around a vestige lady who looks suspiciously like All For One's mom, which I am accepting as canon until told otherwise. Say what you want about Hawks, for all his failures and paradoxes, the dude has serious BDE. I'd rate this higher but he had a lot of good moments.

5. Nothing beside remains, round the decay

Probably one of the most striking panels this year, seeing a defeated, quirkless Keigo struggle to get up and meet the horde of encroaching Toga-Twice clones, holding the last remaining feather in a landscape of complete destruction made me think heavily of the Ozymandias poem. Keigo, who has always represented the hero system with his whole diamond-insignia carrying chest, seeing all the consequences of his actions and the futility of his actions in stopping the very future he'd allowed himself to commit murder to prevent. I wonder if it struck him how little it all meant as he faced his "presumed" doom.

4. Farewell, Fierce Wings!

we bid goodbye to the quirk that continued to fight even as it was stolen into the eldritchian amalgamation that is All For One! The look in the vestige's face is so resigned and bitter-sweet as he decays away. Keigo isn't his quirk, but it's remarkable how willing to face death both of them are.

3. What he really wants

The interesting thing is the narration implies that either Keigo was telling Naomasa that the aging made AFO stronger as the battle happened, or still had enough control over his emotional state after being left in the dirt to tell him what he observed. The latter is, well, not that surprising when it comes to Keigo, who won't let being quirkless or maimed or delimbed get in the way of being at his job, but that's not what Hori shows us.

No, Hori doesn't show us Keigo standing up or sitting up, no he shows us a Keigo clinging to Tokoyami, a complete break in the many masks he wears to show actual devastation and need for comfort.

There's no Keigo pretending he's okay. There's just one panel showing us a young man embracing his unconscious student after probably one of the most horrific experiences in his life. Keigo, who has been mentioned to be a person who puts so much distance himself and other people, is the one the one clinging to Fumikage.

2. He really was, wasn't he?

As the Twice clones disappear, we see a melting Toga-Twice on the brink of killing Keigo, who makes no move to stop her as she slices him open. No, he seems almost penitent as he accepts death, only pausing to tell her he knows why she's killing him. Make no mistake, the moment he saw Twice back, he knew what this was all about; killing Jin. In this moment, he doesn't hold himself back with saying killing Jin was necessary - the future Jin's murder was meant to prevent came about anyway, no, this is just Keigo being honest that he really liked Jin, anyway. This panel might show the first real regret we've gotten from him, which is likely why he was so open about not fighting back. Because Keigo knows that he does "deserve" this.

1. Haven’t you already done your best, Hawks?

Chapter 185, this panel introduces us to Hawks.

Two hundred chapters later and we finally see Hawks, for all intents and purposes, resoundingly defeated. His quirk is gone. The army he had as back up, defeated. His student lying defenseless beside him. His hero-partner having left to fight his own battles.

And yet, despite it all, despite losing his quirk, despite every sign of failure around him, especially as he now has to reckon with his own moral event horizon, Keigo's capable of saying one thing:

[distressxox]

IM CRYING OLS THE AGITO THING IM GONNA MAKE THAT RN 😭😭

but you COOKED with that req🙏 thank you for feeding me, I'm reading abt the ghouls but the ghoullettes catch my eye more.. THEYRE SO PRETTY IM CRYING..might...try and buy a ghoullette mask......

can i ask..for..agito..and..a few other characters of your choice (throw in ghost characters if you want make it a hybrid ask LMFAO) experiencing a soft dom partner who pegs..them.........

—🪡anon

O la la, okay! Rip ur wallet.

I'm actually most likely gonna make a separate post for this for the Ghouls. Look out for that one.

Kengan Men with a Soft Dom S/O

!Nsfw!: Hinted Afab reader (no bodyparts mentioned), M sub, Anal fingering, Pegging

Kanoh Agito

• This dynamic between him and you is something extremely special. One of the strongest fighters alive, weak and on his knees for you.

• Worshipping his body whilst you undress him. Climbing ontop while you describe what you're going to do to him.

• He likes to see you dominate him. Being cared for is so new and nice that he can't live any other way.

• Holding his face as you softly grind on his cock, telling him that you're feeling good and that his body was made for you.

• He knows nothing about sex outside of what you usually do, or the mainstream. You have to explain in detail what it is before even suggesting it.

• Is a little mortified by it, but nonetheless, willing to try pegging.

• It takes a few weeks to loosen him up, slowly fingering him as he clenches around your digits. Trying his best to be strong for you.

• Then comes the day that you try it. With lube all over the strap on and his legs open, you slowly enter him. He grunts and squeezes his eyes shut.

• "Shhh it's okay, you're doing well. You worked really hard for me and I'm going to reward you for it"

• Slow thrusts through and through. He doesn't like it rough, he finds out.

• He has a verryyy sensitive g-spot. His back arches every time you hit it. It's almost heavenly. His body compulsing as he huffs, muscles flexed, and his mind in ecstasy.

• You don't need to jerk him off while doing it. He can cum hands free, groaning as he tenses up. Tears of pleasure running from the corners of his eyes. His hips twitching as he rides out his climax.

Ohma Tokita

• Yes, despite popular opinion, he knows what sex is. It was always an after thought and wasn't on his mind as much as other people. That was when he wasn't with you, of course.

• Never knew how good it felt to be dominated by somebody else. You're his teacher when it comes to intimacy. What feels good to him, what doesn't, what turns him on.

• He likes to be rewarded with being able to eat you out / you sitting on his face as he goes to town.

• You let him be on top sometimes. You command him to speed up or slow down. He can only cum when you say he can.

• You've brought up the idea of using a strap before, he brushes it off. That, goes in there? Not a chance.

• One time you teased him for being 'scared', and he took that as a challenge. To prepare him, you sit on his face whilst massaging his insides with your middle finger. He grumbled the whole time to cover up his panting.

• Foreplay is very important, you make sure he gets all the attention he needs before you start. You propped his back up on the pillow as you squeezed his thighs. Relaxing him.

• The noise he made when you hit his sweet spot for the first time was priceless.

• He likes it a bit rough, not fast, but rough. Swearing under his breath as your thrusts make his cock dribble with cum.

• Doesn't like out right asking you to peg him, so another way he'll do it is dropping it on you or by you.

Lihito / Ichiro Nakata

• Though he puts on a tough and dominant guy persona, you know who's really in charge. And you let him know.

• He is absolutely pathetic when you have him pinned down in bed. Edging him while calling him your good little fuck toy.

• Is a bit of a brat. You aren't a hard-core dom, but sometimes you have to put him in his place by cuffing him to the bed while he watches you touch yourself.

• "Pegging... Isn't that kinda gay?" You wack him over the head and tell him to not judge it unless he's tried it.

• Is in denial about wanting to try it. He's had multiple wet dreams about you absolutely railing the shit out of him. The dreams keep happening and he can't take it anymore. He fingers himself to the thought of you bending him over and degrading him.

• With a painful boner in his boxers, he asks you to bring out the strap on. You oblige. Towel, laid down. Lube, applied. Dildo, STRAPPED.

• Prefers a bit a Foreplay before going in even though he's mentally and physically prepared. He's on his stomach with his ass up.

• A moaning mess. Likes it when you smack his butt while your thrusts render his mind useless.

Goah Ryuki

• Is a bottom from the get-go. Very submissive but can top if you asked him to.

• Ugh the way he whimpers sends a shock through your body. He likes to be edged, overstimulated, and teased.

• Thigh jobs are his favorite thing ever. The way your muscles tense around his sensitive and raw cock which you already had overstimulated beforehand.

• He actually brought up the idea of Pegging. You let him chose and buy the strap you'll use on him.

• In the time you wait for it to arrive, you have him bent over your lap with a smaller dildo you had kept in safe keeping. He was twitching and moaning so loud you had to cover his mouth so the neighbors wouldn't hear.

• He's so desperate for you to put it in him, you have to hold him down by his hips. Which is a struggle because of his strength.

• There's no going back once you put it inside him. He likes it rough and fast. You'll get a full work out once you're done with him.

A/n: DO YOUR RESEARCH BEFORE YOU TRY ANYTHING WITH YOUR PARTNER, THATS AN ORDER

• Asks you grab his hair and go harder. Your legs are already on fire, but god damn is he hot when he's like this.

[dokidokitsuna]

Rise of the Mammalians: Deep Cut Sketches

So…I’ve never really cared much about Deep Cut. On one hand, this keeps me out of a lot of drama, especially around Splatfest time. ^^; But on the other hand, it means that I’m constantly forced to stare at these ubiquitous mascot characters that I should care about, but just…can’t.

Basically, I think they’re shallow and underutilized, and lacking in unique characterization.

For example: The Squid Sisters are weirdo goofballs who are more like living cartoons than actual people, with their constant quips, puns, and random references to their personal lives. And Off the Hook swings to the opposite extreme, with more grounded personalities dripping in charisma, and edgier backstories that flesh them out further, connect them thematically, and chronicle their development as characters.

And then we have Deep Cut, who just sits awkwardly in the middle. They’re not as goofy and campy as the Squid Sisters, but they’re not as edgy and dynamic as Off the Hook, either. They’re kinda just…there, acting out their basic ‘cool’, ‘peppy’, and ‘airhead’ archetypes. Apparently, a shallow anarchy aesthetic (???) and references to their childhood friendship is all we can expect in terms of character depth. Needless to say, it’s not enough. :/

So how did I flesh them out further for their new, more involved roles in this re-concept? The answer is very simple: I just decided to actually make use of that ‘anarchy’ aesthetic.

I found it…actually really disappointing that the word is constantly tossed around in-game, but apparently means absolutely nothing. Considering the original Japanese equivalents of the phrases where it’s used, it might as well be a mistranslation, and it’s honestly such a waste. Whether there’s any true anarchist ideology in Splatsville culture or not, it’s still most definitely the ‘city of chaos’, and yet we really don’t see any of that, especially not in the behavior of the idols that supposedly represent the city. In fact, rather than being rougher around the edges, they seem to be more privileged than any of the previous idols, being essentially born into nobility…

Anyway-- the real kicker for this weird ‘rebels in name only’ attempt at characterization is their secret motivation: the revelation that they’re searching for treasure in Alterna so they can sell it and give the money to the poor of the Splatlands. I KNOW it’s supposed to be sweet and heartwarming, but to me it was just another letdown. Like…that’s probably the most lukewarm ‘bandit’ characterization you could possibly do. T_T They’re essentially dumpster diving for the needy, rather than, I dunno, stealing resources directly from the capitalist overlord next door…??

Like, Deep Cut are supposed to be rebels with hearts of gold who aren’t afraid to use violence to achieve their goals, and Mr. Grizz is literally right there in front of them, hoarding money and energy for his own ends. The dynamic writes itself, but instead the game totally ignores the possibility of connecting the characters at all.

Well, I don’t. ^^ And I think the combination of the two ideas-- ‘rebels in name only’ AND ‘actual rebels who join the protagonist in opposing the final boss’-- is more interesting than either one alone. Like, by day, they really are ordinary idols, who are even willing to shill for Grizzco on the Anarchy Splatcast. They talk tough to appeal to their fanbase, but at the end of the day they do what they need to do to maintain their civilian personas and uphold their family names.

But by night, they reject all of that posturing and take direct action to help people in need. Under the cover of their masks, they become freer, wilder, more honest versions of themselves that can achieve anything together. And this version of Deep Cut is the one that accompanies you through the story mode. ^^

[escaping-thoughts-reviews]

So, basically according to TA... What the fans "want":

A well written story;

Likable characters with a tangible character growth (no resets);

Sympathetic villain (wants to bring Emilie back for Adrien's sake);

Main couple has chemistry in all versions of themselves (Marinette/LB has feelings for CN unlike in the show, Marinette can actually talk to Adrien, and he's in love with "the girl behind the mask" not just LB);

Ladybug and Chat Noir being equals and working together to defeat Hawkmoth;

Adrien standing up to his father and telling him how he feels;

Chat Noir being in the final battle against his father!;

"Ladybug doesn't exist without Marinette", her powers are not what makes her special;

Gabriel's love for his son being more powerful than his hatered for Ladybug and Chat Noir;

Marinette and Adrien know each other's identities before getting together (no lies);

The heroes winning in the end and saving the world.

-

What the fans "need":

Thin-as-air badly written story full of retcons;

Obnoxious female lead with obsessive stalker tendencies (that are rewarded at the end);

Male protagonist that is not allowed to take charge of his situation and is nothing but a trophy for the female lead (TA described Adrien as being Marinette's "Ken", so... he's canonically just an accessory for her character. That's... nice...);

Badly written villain (inconsistent as the rest of the plot, they wanted him to be sympathetic, but ends up coming across as just selfish, then downright deranged in s5);

Unhealty dynamics (Marinette stalking Adrien, CN not taking "no" for an answer, pictures of their person of interest on walls and pc) and there's only interest for one of their personas, Marinette-> Adrien, Adrien-> Labybug (Marinette is not interested in CN and Adrien doesn't show romantic interest in Marinette up until s5);

"I don't need Chat Noir for every mission. He's just like any other temporary holder". LB is the only leader (everybody is beneath her, even CN);

Chat Noir (one of the titular characters) not being in the final battle against his own father;

Adrien never learns the truth about his family or himself, meanwhile Marinette does (thus having more power over him... once again.... *cough* Chat Blanc) and still dates him;

Marinette has all the power, she's the bestest ever and she can do everything by herself (CN not needed);

Villain wins, destroys the world and recreates it to his desires;

Ladybug fails as a hero.

You know what? I'm pretty sure no one "needs" that. I'll stick with the movie. Sure, it's not perfect, but it's lightyears better than the show.

[lilybecca1]

Hi...if you don't mind, can I ask something from BNHA? What do you think are Midoriya and Bakugou’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic? Since what moment that you start shipping them? Sorry if you've answered these questions before.....

(Okay so I kinda realized at the end that this actually turned into a complete BKDK personality analysis and dynamic breakdown, so sorry in advance lmao)

Hi, of course! I actually love analysis so I don't mind talking about their characters and dynamic. Though I do have to say that if I wanted to make a full on analysis, it would probably take me hours, if not days 😂 when I say their characters and dynamic are literally the deepest and most complex out there, I mean it.

But to answer your first question:

Let's talk about Bakugo first.

I think throughout the entire manga, his character has literally been laid bare in front of the whole world to see. His character development was one of the most important aspects in the entire manga, and we have a ton of resources to analyze his character on. If I were to answer what his greatest strengths and weaknesses are on a superficial level, I'd say this: his weakness is that he hides his true feelings behind a mask of anger, and he's so intent on dealing with his problems alone that he ends up pushing people away. His greatest strength is his ability to never give up on winning, his determination to succeed and become his best, and strongest self.

But that is not entirely true. In reality, his weakness comes from his insecurities, his fear of showing vulnerability to others. Throughout his whole life, everyone praised him for his quirk and told him he'd be the best hero out there, and because of this, he has developed an unhealthy superiority/inferiority complex. He's afraid that he'll fail, because in his mind, his whole persona, his whole self worth is developed around the strength of his quirk and the desire to become the number one hero. He's too afraid to accept his "human" side and human emotions. Thus, he feels like he always has to maintain this image of perfection, being on top of the food chain so that no one sees past his façade and sees just how insecure and sensitive he really is inside.

And his greatest strength? It's not about winning or never giving up. His greatest strength is how sensitive, how fiercely loyal he is at his core. His trust is very hard to earn, but once someone does earn his trust and respect, he will devote his entire LIFE to that person. Initially, it's very hard to break down his walls, and on the outside he seems like someone that only cares about himself and his own goals, but that's so far from the truth.

Just look at his relationship with Deku over time. Bakugo wanted to ignore him and push him away at first, because he triggered Bakugo's deepest insecurities, he saw right through him, he saw the person he was past that anger. And over the manga, Deku has broken down his walls little by little, earned his understanding, his trust, his respect. He broke his walls down until there was nothing left to hide for Bakugo anymore. And once that happened, Bakugo gave Izuku his all, his 100%. His care, his life, his devotion. Because once you look deeper, you'll see that Bakugo's biggest strength lies in his selflessness, and how he'll put the people that mean the most to him above everything, even his own self.

So now, what about Midoriya? Well, in all honestly, I still have absolutely no idea. It irks me to this day when I read fanfictions that simplify Midoriya's character so much that he ends up just being this crybaby version of himself who puts everyone above himself and is too kind of a soul for this world. That might be true in a sense, but that's also far from what his true character really is about. It's like when you see him first, you see this simple version of him that he shows to the whole world, but as you get to know him, the outer layer starts to peel off and you start to see the inner layers of him. Except, when you thought that you finally got to know all the sides to him, you suddenly find yourself face to face with yet another layer.

It's very hard to pin down his character, which is generally true for most INFJs. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and he completely stays true to his character, his core essence is rock-solid and immutable, yet for some reason, it's impossible to understand him, because he probably doesn't understand himself either.

So in short: his weakness is that he always puts everyone above himself and doesn't care about his own well-being, and his greatest strength is that he always follows his dream and his desire to save others, even when life throws all odds against him.

Long answer (buckle up): through his entire childhood, he has been bullied for being quirkless, for simply being who he is. He had to learn from a very young age that he has no worth, that his existence is meaningless, and his life is absolutely worthless (which has been even more solidified after Bakugo told him to take a swan dive). It has been practically beaten into his brain and mindset that he, as a person, doesn't mean anything. In his mind, he doesn't have a sense of self. His core essence, his raw character has been built around his dream of being a hero, his desire to save others. His sense of self is built upon a base of a desire, a dream. Not his personality, not his character, not who he truly is as a person inside. Nor he, nor anyone else has cared to learn more about him, about who he is as a person.

So, to put it simply, his core character is versatile, unpredictable, and unknown, even to himself. His weakness is that he is constantly misunderstood, and that no one will ever be able to understand who he really is inside. The fact is that he and Bakugo are two sides of the same coin. On the outside, it would seem like Bakugo is the one who's misunderstood, who hides himself behind a mask, and Deku is the one that wears his heart on his sleeve, and is open with his emotions.

In reality, Bakugo is the one that is true to his own character, meanwhile Midoriya is the person whose real personality hides behind his mask of cheerfulness, hope, optimism and determination, whether he knows it or not. He never once stopped to think about himself, so he wears this mask completely subconsciously, and even if he wanted to, he probably wouldn't know how to NOT be like this. So, basically his weakness is that he hides and bottles up his real emotions, and most of the time even he doesn't know it. Like y'all thought Bakugo was the repressed one? News flash, Deku is the true repressed MF, he is the one that pushes down his "unwanted" emotions and desires.

Just a couple of examples: when his desire to win surpasses his desire to save and he starts to imitate Bakugo. Why? Because his whole persona is built around the desire to save, yet when these "unwanted", supressed emotions surface, he copies the image of what that emotion is supposed to look like. AKA, copies Bakugo, because the image of desiring to win is the image of Bakugo inside of his head, so he mirrors Bakugo's personality during those moments.

Another example? He literally gave up on winning during the Sports Tournament and hurt himself over and over again just to prove his point. He's not as innocent and sweet as people think he is, he purposefully riled up Todoroki just to prove his point. He's stubborn, reckless, and spiteful to the point he did THAT just to win an argument.

And the Control your heart moment? That was literally THE biggest weakness that Shigaraki even exploited and used against him, because he saw the side that Deku tried so hard to suppress, and he knew that hurting Bakugo was the one thing that could get that side out of him. But I'll talk more about that later.

So, with that out of the way, what about his strengths? Well, in the short answer, I said that it was his ability to keep pushing forward and chase his dreams even when life throws all odds against him. Which isn't false, because that is indeed probably his biggest strength. Since he's kind of a "chameleon", he's able to adapt and devote his own self to the one cause and desire that he built it upon. Which is his dream to save others and become a hero. But that's not all there is to his character. His strength is the ability to devote his entire character, his sense of self, his energy, his everything to one specific goal that he sets his mind to. That what makes him Midoriya Izuku. It's that inner strength to be able to devote his 100% to his beliefs and what he wants. And when he does, it's impossible to stop him. What does he believe in? Saving others and helping them, no matter what. What does he want? Well, most of the time, it's to become a hero and do exactly that, save others. Some other times, it's to win. Other times, he simply wants Bakugo, which is a raw possessiveness that even he cannot control sometimes(which I'll also explain in a bit). We'll never understand what he's fully capable of, because we'll never understand every side and emotion there is to him deep down. Only one thing is for sure, that he is someone who pushes forward to reach his dream and follow his beliefs with all his heart, no matter how many times he's pushed down. Is it unhealthy? Probably. Safe to say that Midoriya still has a lot to learn and figure out, even more so than Bakugo did.

Okay, that did actually end up pretty long, but anywayyy

Onto next question:

What do I love about their dynamic? Well, more like what do I NOT love 😂 I mean if people thought their characters were deep, they're in for even more of a surprise. Because if there is one thing deeper and more complex than anything in the world, then it's their relationship and dynamic.

I mean, you mix two characters together that literally steal every single trope there is, enemies to lovers, rivals to friends, childhood friends, forced proximity, twin flames, soulmates, literally EVERYTHING

What do you get? A whole lot of complicated shit, that's what

First, let's see what Bakugo's perspective is in the whole relationship. The School Briefs Snowy Mountain Camping chapter basically gave us a complete explanation on Bakugo's perspective of Midoriya and the reason he behaved the way he did with him. There was always something that irked him, something that creeped him out about Midoriya, and that something is Midoriya's habit of meddling with other people's problems and caring about them, even when he doesn't need to. Young Katsuki realized that this is exactly what being a hero is about, and he knew deep down that Izuku's core essence was much closer to the ideal of being a hero than himself was. And that triggered his insecurities, because he thought that Deku was better than him, he thought that Deku was much closer to achieving that dream of being a hero than he was.

So, Bakugo developed a superiority complex and disguised that deep-seated fear as rage, and settled for denial for years. That is until they entered UA, and he started to understand and accept the fact that Deku didn't look down on him, but actually cared for him. His anger subdued, but for a long while, there was still something that frustrated him and pissed him off to no end about Midoriya.

His own anger came from inability to explain what was the thing that still irritated him. He was essentially angry at himself for being in denial for so long, and then for not being able to explain what it was that angered him about Deku, even when he knew he wasn't looking down on him. But then, he realized what caused his irritation. To quote him, "Deku never took his own needs into account, always giving 100% of himself to whatever cause had his attention". He feared that Deku's pure, genuine spirit would collapse under its own weight some day, bringing it all crashing down. In other words, he was afraid for him, because he saw how amazing of a person he was inside, and he knew Izuku would rather bear the weight of the whole world on his shoulders than to share the pain with anyone else. This is when he realized he cared for him.

Everyone else cared about Izuku too, but Bakugo was the only one who saw this, and who saw who Izuku was at his core. Unlike everyone else, he wasn't surprised when Izuku left UA during his Vigilante Arc, because deep down he knew this was bound to happen some day. And he took it upon himself to apologize to Izuku, lay himself and his own weakness bare in front of him, in the rain. Which is something that goes against who he was before that. But he showed Izuku that he had his complete trust in him, and told him to share that responsibility of OFA with him. At this point, Bakugo has long threw away what held him back from accepting his connection with Izuku. It wasn't even about the desire to surpass him anymore. He knew that was futile because in his eyes, Izuku was such an amazing person that he knew he'd never be able to surpass him. "Hey, Izuku...Can I still catch up to you?"

He accepted the defeat, that he wasn't a better person, that he wasn't the best. Because time and time again Izuku showed him how amazing he was. So Deku isn't the only one who views Katsuki as amazing. Katsuki just needed time to come to terms with it. But once he did, he completely devoted himself to Izuku, he died for him, he devoted 8 years to him after the war just so he can become a hero again. He doesn't care about him being quirkless anymore, none of that means anything to him anymore. All that's left inside him is the pure, genuine desire to have Izuku by his side for the rest of his life. Izuku will always remain more special to him than anyone else.

His love for Izuku goes much deeper than platonic or romantic, and that's the beauty in it. Izuku has earned every kind of love that Bakugos could give him. And it couldn't have been anyone else, because in order for Bakugo to have this deep of a connection, they needed to have a mutual background, they needed to have history. Bakugo needed that person to see him for who he is at his rawest, he needed someone to accept his feelings and understand who he truly is, and how he became who he is, what made him into who he is today. And that person could have only been Izuku. Because Izuku has been there since the very beginning, Izuku showed a mirror to Bakugo and made him face his own flaws. Izuku made Bakugo accept his own flaws and realize that he isn't perfect, just like everyone else. Without Izuku, he would have never realized what it meant to be a true hero, and that he needs to accept the other side of the coin too.

And for Izuku, he always saw Kacchan as amazing, ever since Day 1, and he viewed him as his image of victory. I mentioned before how he built his core personality around the dream of becoming a hero, but that was not all. There is another pillar that holds his life, holds his dream together, and that is Katsuki. He had this ideal that came from All Might, but like Izuku said, Kacchan was the one in his life. Izuku's body only moved on it's own once he realized it was Katsuki in danger. In Izuku's mind, Katsuki is the image of what victory is supposed to look like. Or, to sum it up, Katsuki is the reason Izuku was able to achieve his dream of becoming a hero(which I also explained in one of my other analysis).

Why is this important? It's because Izuku can't imagine a world without Katsuki in it.

There is a reason why it's always "Kacchan and the others". It's not simply because Kacchan is his closest friend. It's because Bakugo means more than anything to him. Bakugo is the one pillar in Deku's life that's always there, that he can always rely on. If you take that away, his entire core would collapse, because there would be nothing holding it together anymore. Like in that new Blue Encount MV that came out, and how it was Kacchan's hand that held together his shattered dream.

Because Katsuki is the one who he shares that dream with. Both of their dreams were born at the same moment, their literal core is tied together with eachother. This is why Izuku told Bakugo the secret of OFA so easily. The two of them together were the ones that held that responsibility, that knowledge that came with OFA. And to prove it to you, let me talk about his Vigilante Arc, and when the whole class came to convince him to come back.

Right at the last moment when Izuku was at his breaking point, this is what the second user said:

“If there’s anything that could bolster Midoriya Izuku right now, it would be…”

And who did the next panel show? Bakugo.

Bakugo said he wanted to talk with Izuku, and Izuku knew that if he heard him out, he wouldn't be able to resist, he wouldn't be able to hold it together anymore. That's why he ran away without talking to him, but it didn't work out. And when Bakugo apologized to him, it was over. The one person that meant more to him than the whole world, apologized for everything he has done, and showed him that he WANTED to be there by Deku's side, which is what Izuku has wanted ever since they were children, yet he gave up the hope of ever being able to talk normally with Kacchan again. And now here he was, doing just that, and it broke something in him. He wasn't able to hold himself together anymore, to keep up his façade of wanting to bear the responsibility on his shoulders only. It was Katsuki's words that made him give in and share the burden, accepting that he doesn't have to do it all alone.

It was always Kacchan, and it was always the others.

And why was it that he always lost control of his heart when Bakugo was in danger and threatened to be taken away from him? Like when he was kidnapped. It's because Katsuki isn't just simply a really close friend. It's because Katsuki is literally his ideal, his image of victory. If he was taken away from him, that would rock Midoriya's entire mindset, his entire world. Katsuki is something that his childlike self desperately needs to hold onto, because without him, Izuku would be lost. The one thing would be gone that was always in his life, that gave him the meaning of being a hero. Take Kacchan away from him, and you literally rip half of his heart out. Without Kacchan, he's incomplete. So when he screamed "Give me MY Kacchan back!", it was because he literally felt so threatened that it awakened a raw possessiveness inside of him.

Just like when Monoma insulted Kacchan. Midoriya didn't lose control simply because he talked badly about Bakugo. It was because to him, it felt like a personal attack to the core essence of who HE is. It felt like it was a direct attack on Midoriya's beliefs, like someone just insulted his entire mindset that he has believed in ever since childhood. It's literally true, an attack on Bakugo is a personal attack towards Izuku as well.

So now we understand why he went crazy when he lost Katsuki. His entire inner world was shaken up, threatening to collapse in on itself. If we think about it, it isn't so surprising that he went feral over Bakugo's death. He lost control of his heart, because Katsuki is the one in his heart. Who Izuku is today has been directly influenced by Kacchan in his life. Losing Kacchan means losing a part of himself.

And this is exactly why I absolutely love their dynamic. They mean so much to each other, and their love for each other grows so much deeper than just romantic or platonic. They mean the world to each other. They are soulmates, they are twin flames, their entire life and persona is so tied together with each other that it's impossible to say where one of them ends and the other begins. Because they are two halves of a whole, and their love and connection is something that we are unable to comprehend. It goes way beyond simply loving each other.

And to answer your last question,

well I technically started shipping them since Deku vs Kacchan 2, but I kind of already were shipping them in a way ever since Episode 1. Not in a romantic sense, but I immediately saw that there was much more to their connection than with anyone else. But Deku vs Kacchan 2 fight scene definitely took the cake 😂 nothing will ever top the tension they had during that episode...like okay, before I would have accepted that there wasn't anything romantic between them, but after that? KISS GODDAMNIT

Okay so this has kind of turned into a veeery long analysis, sorry, I talk too much 🤣 I hope I answered all your questions 💚

[bluegekk0]

based on the recent meme- grimm and crying? does he believe that crying is a show of weakness- even if only for himself? how might the sexy vampire god deal with emotions

He's definitely the type to claim that crying is good for you and encourage it, and then see it as a weakness in himself. I like to think he could make himself able to cry if he wanted to, but he chooses not to. This leads into your second question - for most of his life, he masked his emotions from the world. He specifically crafted a persona for himself that would be difficult to read and intimidating at a glance but also alluring. Though even if he let anyone get close, he was very selective in what emotions they'd see - usually pleasure and anything similar to that. But nothing aside from that, once he was done there, he'd return to being hard to read, almost emotionless.

In reality, his head was a battleground for so many emotions you'd be shocked that he hasn't broken down at that point. His regrets and anger, the feeling of loneliness, yearning, and just a general sadness. It was all in there, hidden under layers he created to mask them from the outside world. It's no wonder he never made himself able to cry - it'd be impossible to hide all his sadness and pain as he'd be tearing up damn near constantly. On top of that, being left in such a vulnerable state after his banishment made him very careful about showing any kind of weakness, in large part it was a defensive mechanism, one that unfortunately became very damaging for his mental health. And in his eyes, crying was the most obvious sign of weakness, so he designed his body in a way that prevented it.

However, things have changed, yes, he still hides his feelings from strangers, so many years of doing that won't just go away, and admittedly it is an useful skill. But now he has Vyrm, someone he can be fully honest with, and after being separated for so long, he was done hiding his feelings towards him. And following that, he became a lot more open about his other emotions, which he brings up during their heart-to-hearts. It's the only time he allows himself to be truly vulnerable, and as he quickly found out, it really helps to talk so openly about his feelings with someone. Yes, he would mention them occasionally to Divine (they are close friends, and unlike Brumm, her dynamic with Grimm is a lot more personal), but never to this extent; he'd always hide some details, especially those most painful to him.

He was a little apprehensive about it first, with all of Vyrm's struggles, Grimm was afraid of burdening him with his own problems (very ironic as that's a very Vyrm thing to do). But in the end it ended up being very healthy for them as individuals, and their relationship, so he doesn't regret it, even if at times it was very difficult. Despite all of that, however, his body is still unable to cry. Perhaps that's a mental barrier that he simply won't be able to cross anytime soon. The only sign that he would be about to cry if he could, is his voice trembling. But because he isn't very talkative around strangers (especially if he feels emotionally vulnerable), it's something only Vyrm and those closest to him would ever pick up on.

[prince-liest]

Omg, I just wanted to say I ADORE your characterization of Al and Vox! I don't even have the words to express how much I love reading your stuff, especially the Anon responses you post on here. The behind the scenes thoughts are literally my food, lifesource, its so good when people not only write characters IN CHARACTER, but also include stuff about their analysis/understanding of the character too.. I'm literally obsessed with breaking down characters and yk, cracking their chrome domes open to see how they work (which admittedly, I am not the best at <_< but I love reading them). Just wanted to say how much I love your writing. I had maybe 2 questions, please don't feel pressured to answer them :>

What in your mind (in reference to the 66.6 fics) would motivate Alastor to let Val get close to him in the first place? Or was that more you picking these two characters up by the scruff of their necks and plopping them into a hypothetical scenario to explore their character and write some fun intimate thingsTM?

What do you think of the dynamic of Vox and Al vs something like Lucifer and Al? Personally I've noticed that something Alastor craves, behind the mask of his static smiling persona, is attention. He's (at least how I saw it) usually peeved when people don't care about his absence, and seems especially bothered by the King of Hell refusing to really acknowledge him, so he goes out of his way to push Lucifers buttons (like calling himself a father figure to Charlie, IN FRONT OF HER ACTUAL FATHER LOL) whereas with Vox, Vox is literally CONSTANTLY thinking about Alastor. Man literally interrupted his regular TV program to do a segment about how much he totally didn't at ALL care about Alastors dissapearance or the fact that he returned (suree buddy). So Alastor can have more fun with him and annoy him by ignoring and messing with him on purpose.

ty if you do respond to this, sorry if it was hard to understand, sometimes I forget how to put the thoughts in my brain into coherent words!

Ahhhh, thank you very much, anon! I'm especially happy that you're enjoying my commentary on Tumblr, haha - I spent a while on Twitter because that's where all the fandom zines I was in were being hosted, but nothing beats Tumblr for giving me a nigh-unlimited word count and a captive audience for my rambling! >:D <3 I'm back to cocooning myself on the OG hell site.

Thank you for this ask, it really brightened my day! :D

As for your questions:

1. I'm assuming that was a typo and that you mean Vox (but in case you did mean Val: that was just a funny accident of him walking by the room! Alastor wasn't paying enough attention until it was too late), and to that I say:

I think Alastor allows Vox to take a go at him in canon because he finds Vox's obsession with him to be entertaining, but also because Alastor is kind of a narcissist and that same obsession massively feeds his ego, especially in a political climate that otherwise forgot about Alastor. Vox's whole "Who gives a shit about Alastor coming back?! Haha, now let me have a public meltdown and short out power to the whole city about it! Oh, fuck, why is he back, though?? Can we send a spy in to find out??" is exactly the reaction that Alastor wants every time he mentions his mysterious absence and gets brushed off.

At the same time, Alastor doesn't seem to register Vox as a sincere and genuine threat. He's a big enough fish in the Pride Ring pond that his obsession with Alastor is gratifying, but Alastor's self-absorption also doesn't really allow him to treat Vox as a threat tier above "annoying in a funny way, and also television is stupid." (Perhaps this will change in season 2... :eyes: (or perhaps Alastor will get Even Worse) (please god let him get even worse))

So those two things in combination make Vox the perfect candidate for Alastor to experiment with while maintaining his ego and not feeling particularly threatened. Despite Vox's Safeword 101 talk, Alastor would never put stock into that system with Vox unless he was certain that he himself would be able to back up a 'no' with overwhelming force. Him even considering safewords in the Live On Air! series is less for his own sake and more a politesse he offers on Vox's request to warn Vox to slow the fuck down before Alastor tries to put his insides on the outside.

2. And in direct contrast, we have Lucifer...

... Who Alastor obviously actually cares quite a bit about, because he's a whole nother power tier from both Vox and Alastor, and furthermore and possibly even more importantly, a credible threat to Alastor's relationships and standing in the hotel. I think a lot of discussion I see about Alastor prodding Lucifer seems to talk about how quickly he got annoyed about Lucifer's comments, but that misses the fact that he was pissed off before Lucifer even showed up. He got pissy the moment he saw the welcome sign, actually! And I wager that he was narratively absent for the scene where Charlie actually calls Lucifer because he would have done his best to manipulate her out of doing so had be been there.

And given that the two clearly haven't met before (though obviously Alastor knows of Lucifer - and hates that the inverse isn't true, hah), it's not 100% clear exactly why he's immediately so annoyed, but in my personal view of things and barring something like "he's projecting onto Lucifer because his contract is with Lilith," I think that what we know of Alastor's personality points most strongly to "he liked being the hotel's benefactor and sees it as His Project, and doesn't like the idea that Charlie called daddy for something that she thought mysterious, powerful Alastor couldn't handle." He distracts a lot with obviously-goading comments about practically being Charlie's dad in his duet with Lucifer, but underneath that he puts a lot of emphasis on the work he's done for the hotel and the fact that he's been supporting Charlie and the hotel from the start, so why the fuck is this deadbeat asshole suddenly turning up?!

Tl;dr: Charlie missed her insight roll on Alastor's personal investments and he's sooooo offended - and taking it out on Lucifer!

I think one of my favorite things about both Lucifer and Alastor is that they both sooo obviously belong in the Pride Ring, hahaha.

[nose-nippin-fun]

Hazbin Hotel Episode 4 Discussion:

I’ve seen a lot of nasty posts floating around today criticizing Vivzie and the show. I’m not here to discredit your feelings, but I think that the darker tone of episode 4 merits some constructive discussion beyond a knee-jerk, pearl-clutching reaction.

From what I’ve seen, the biggest complaint from viewers, myself included, is that this emotional episode with some fairly intense depictions of SA/r*pe was not prefaced with a content warning aside from the usual small text in the top left corner. I truly do believe Amazon should correct this going forward so that viewers can feel better prepared for tone shifts between episodes. That being said, here are my defenses of the show.

Hazbin Hotel has had a huge fan following since the pilot release back in 2019, which set the tone of the show. Between the pilot and Addict music video, people had a pretty clear indication of the adult themes that would be present in the project moving forward. The show is set in Hell, the place where the world’s worst sinners are trapped in the afterlife. This is not an excuse, this is an explanation. There are going to be several characters with tainted morality, some of whom are irredeemable. That’s why they’re in Hell. This show is not meant to glorify sins, but to shine a light on flawed, relatable characters who will grapple with ethics and other struggles and come out changed in the end.

“I can’t believe Angel doesn’t leave his situation and stays stagnant.” Have you ever lived through/witnessed abuse? It is never this easy to sever ties with an abuser. They position themselves in power to control and manipulate, and many times, it’s not physically safe to get away from them. Also, this has been ONE EPISODE, you cannot expect a character with deep trauma to be totally different after a 20-30 minute episode. Angel’s character arc will take time, but his interaction with Husk at the end is an important first step in that direction.

“So Angel is supposed to just get over his trauma because he and Husk sang a song about it?” No. If that was your takeaway, I’m truly sorry you missed the point. Husk is the only person who’s been raw and blunt with Angel (on screen) about dropping the Angel Dust persona and being Anthony. Angel is used to having to put on a flawless, sexy act at all times, so much so that that’s how people really believe he is at all times. Husk sees through this mask Angel developed to protect himself and tell him through their song that imperfect and broken as he feels, Angel isn’t alone in struggling with feelings of powerlessness and addiction. He’s not comparing his loss of overlord status to Angel’s horrible SA, he’s finding common ground and empathizing (the best way a Hellbound soul can). This song wasn’t a solution, it was a gateway to vulnerability and the beginning of change for both characters.

“We’re expected to just ship Huskerdust after Angel has done nothing but sexually harass and push Husk’s boundaries?” No. That’s absolutely the wrong reason to ship anything. While it’s true that in the first three episodes, Angel sees Husk as eye candy who might be able to distract him from his suffering, episode 4 brings a necessary shift in their dynamic. Angel is used to everyone around him wanting Angel Dust, the pornstar. But for the first time, someone doesn’t want that coveted persona, and he can’t comprehend this. Angel has no control over anything except the act he keeps up, so he clings to it as a false sense of power. It’s only after Husk tells him that he likes Angel for everything he is off camera that Angel starts to treat Husk with respect, which will pave the way for any future Huskerdust shipping.

You don’t have to agree with what I’ve written, and I absolutely don’t blame you if you’ve realized this show is not content you can comfortably consume, but please understand that depicting difficult material is not the same as glorifying or excusing it. This episode was hard for me too, because I care about Angel Dust, and I am so eager to watch his growth as the show continues. My heart goes out to anyone struggling from triggering this episode caused. I hope you’re able to safely navigate away from this show while respecting the viewers who continue to watch.

[sillydummydum]

*DROPS S/I ON THE GROUND*

*RUNS AWAY IN SHAME*

S/I Yap time!!

OK SO-- I made this little S/I art yesterday and felt like sharing!! My Persona 5 S/I is basically-- well, me (bubbly and annoying) and nothing else lolol I literally insert myself in the universe with some plot changes and it's fun!! She likes space and music! Cuz i do too! :D She's also an indie musical artist but it's like more of a hobbie than anything! (Even if it does helps with money and all! she also does haves some good amount of followers on the niche! But nothing big out of the indie bubble) She wants to work as a songwriter for a famous singer one day!

Her background is nothing crazy but I made some silly changes, like aging up my irl brother (he's currently a lil baby and I made him a lil kid :3) and making me live with my grandma! (fucking love my grandma kisses grandma!!) Also some dramatic aah stuff like dead mom and no dad for me (the basics) 😭😭 My S/I has a strong special interest in space!!! Which is something I'm getting really into lately! So I made mommy an astronomer! She was like best friends with Wakaba (scientific nerds lol) and Sojiro so S/I was very close to Futaba since childhood for that reason!

She is a phantom thieve (shockerz) and uhm I wanted to use my personal experience as a bullied child growing up (mostly because of ableism) and turn that into motivation to make justice, since no one did that for me before!! (Grr goddamn adults!) And finding my own group of weird little people made me much more open and generally happy in real life! So that's what I'm doing on this universe as well! ^^

Yes she entered in kamoshida's case cuz I wanna imagine myself in every little story event.

Yes I study at Shujin.

Yes I am basic. /j

Even tho when it's for self shipping purposes I usually make my stuff in the 3rd semester because... life is beautiful and husby has no filter so it's funnier ✨️ AND YES I AM HELPING THE ROYAL TRIO WITH MARUKI FUCK IT NOW WE ARE FOUR!! (Depression afterwards :<)

Her Persona is called Selene! Based off the greek goddess of the moon!! She has nuclear/almighty based skills simply because it's chaotic and looks cool!! FUCKING MEGIDOLAON ON THEM!!! POOOWWW BOOM KABOOM!! 💥👊ALSO FUN FACT SHE'S VERY CHAOTIC!! (just like me fr maybe because it is me duh) often being too dramatic, explosive and loud!!! totally ruining stealth when it comes to infiltrating palaces, which usually makes some funny aah scenes because she was dumb-- maybe she's not a good phantom thief...

maybe.

Talking about metaverse stuff! Her clothes are based off Magicians! Because of her lil show off nature, making everything a explosive dramatic spectacle! And uhm magicians are cool!! -v-"

This concept was made with the help of my bestie! Helping me take a more Kaito kid/Tuxedo Mask inspired design, which i really like allot! big thanks to him!! <3

Relationship dynamics:

On this section I wanted to give a small little insights on her relationships with most characters! Since I felt like it would be fun to do so! :3

☆~☆~☆

Akira Kurusu/Ren Amamiya

- Her relationship with Akira is pretty much like a siblings relationship, Luna looks up to him allot and is the "I wanna be like you when I grow up" type lol even if they are the same age. He is her inspiration to get better, so she will get at his level one day! He also makes extra suggary cappuccino to her when she goes to Leblanc 🤝 ☕️

Ryuji Sakamoto

- Her relationship with him is pretty much the chaotic duo type, shes always giving him death stares when he starts to talk about girls or some dumb Ryuji shit like that 😭 Her and Morgana are constantly slandering him for the funzys, but Ryuji also likes to pick up on her so they're eternally on a war-- and in general they are two loud dumbasses who share the same braincells and have little silly banters 🤲 also HC that Luna helps him dye his hair 🫡

Ann Takamaki

- Her relationship with Ann is the girly besties type, constantly going out shopping, Ann usually helps her to buy her clothes since Luna definitely can't pick her clothes on her own without it looking weird 😭 they also go out allot to eat! Try the newest deserts all around Tokyo! Those two would probably kill for a chocolate cake. And they are getting progressively more poor because of that... She likes to paint Ann's nails and style her hair for fun! because she personally thinks Ann looks like a pretty porcelain doll!

Yusuke Kitagawa

- Her relationship with Yusuke is another of pure admiration!! Yusuke admire Luna for her artistic side on the music and Luna's eyes sparkle at every little sketch he does, I like to think that Luna (just like me) is an artist for fun who really has allot of trouble with drawing certain things that aren't fanart lol, and they go out on little panting sessions togheter. Like I dunno go to Inokashira Park to draw the scenario and his comes out like the next monalisa and hers is like... Blue and Green all mixed up togheter. And she probably got her clothes dirty in the process. He does encourages her to continue tho! And gives her tips that she usually doesn't get-- so uhm sensei Yusuke Ig?

Makoto Nijima

- Her relationship with Makoto is... *sighs* very sibling-like too. Luna isn't the best at school, and always cry for help when it's exams week 💔 Makoto usually scolds her for being too careless at everything, school, metaverse, crossing the road-- but only because she really cares about her. Luna is like the little sister she needs to lookout for so she doesn't get herself killed by accident. Oh fun fact but Luna is also very afraid of Sae (just like me im afraid of pretty woman) so yeah she freezes when she steps in the room 😭

Futaba Sakura

- Oh boooyyy Futaba time!! My relationship with Futaba is so silly and fun and I wanna yap about it!! Ok third person mode on--

So, since they were basically raised togheter, they are pretty close to one another, and have gathered the same types of interests through the years. Since I have the Autistic Futaba HC, I like to imagine that they get each other more than anything, engaging in parallel play most of the time when she was a shut-in. And I like to imagine that Luna was pretty much the only person she talked to at first after her Palace. Also HC that they play Pokemon United togheter. Cuz I said so. They exchange allot of gifts related to their special interests too! Ugh I have so many HC's for us but basically we are best friends forever two little chaotic autistic sillys but i help Futaba with her social anxiety! yipeee :3

Haru Okumura

- Her relationship with Haru is the tea time besties, they talk all day over a good cup of tea and Haru frequently gives her tips of how not make her plants die (very important, I never can make them live...) which is a hobby Luna really is trying to... make possible... (plz don't die this time) and generally her time yapping with Haru is a very comforting one, usually when shes feeling dramatic she goes and hugs Haru and makes her little drama, and Haru is usually the only one who's like "Oh dear :(" and stands her when she's being extra or cheers her up when shes actually sad too! 😭 shes such a sweetheart! <3 don't be mean with Mona and Luna! Haru is gonna politely ask you to stop. (Looking at you ryuji)

Morgana

- Her relationship with our favorite not cat! He's... Morgana. We know him. But Luna can be considered pretty much his #1 fan???? She thinks he's HELLA COOL like the best phantom thieve ever!! (I love morgana!!!) She really respects him and Morgana is really grateful to have someone that looks up to him (Luna looks up to lots of people! ><") Luna also likes to pat him. Allot. (IM A CAT PERSON OK) which well he doesn't mind but still he's not a kitty that you can just pat like that!!! (He's purring)

Sumire Yoshizawa

- Her relationship with Sumire is... damn, Luna is LOUD. And well we know that Sumi isn't exactly as extroverted as she makes herself seem when she takes on the Kasumi role. So uhm let's say Luna is overwhelming-- very overwhelming! 😭 She's always jumpy and bubbly and is constantly trying to cheer Sumire up, turning into some type of cheerleader for her when she starts to self-depreciate in any way, being overly affectionate and in general being extra EXTRA around her since she gets very worried about Sumire's mental health-- So yeah, Luna is basically constantly cheering her on and admiring her for being able to make things she can't (Even if Sumire doesn't think they're that great :< )... ooh we have another extreme admiration case here!!! Maybe the person she admires the most! Hell yeah! Give my girly some love!~ My bestie <3

Haha that's the end nothing more to see here... hah... haha.... bye...

Ok...

*sighs*

Goro Akechi

- That's probably the most important relationship of all-- why did I put him in last? I'm embarrassed. Uh... shy? 😭 gonna be more personal about this one uhm-- well

That's my boyfriend over there, I hate him I don't really enjoy his company and I hope he gets therapy. /hj

No, really tho, our relationship is... I can't even describe it, but our dynamic is DEFINITELY the "aww they do care about each other" type-- I constantly enjoy to annoy the hell out of him, just because it's funny?? I'm the devil from the bible. Er... so... the thing is, Akechi constantly get dismissed through story for obvious reasons, he's openly agaisn't the Phantom Thieves and later they do have much MUCH more motives to not fuck with him-- but Luna? DAMN. That girl is I N V E S T E D In being friends with him. Specially on the start, his sob stories actually made her pity him and get all "aw he's miserable... 🥺" lol so she constantly insisted on being his friend, even tho he was internally screaming and trying to push her away, she was CONVICTED. SHES A FRIENDSHIP MACHINE BABY. YOU CAN'T ESCAPE HER!!

So with that forced proximity, they eventually started getting closer, and it was something very... slow? Definitely. Luna never cared about hiding herself no matter how weird people seemed to find her, maybe he would admire that... envy that? Who knows.

Suddenly he started to enjoy her company. Even if she was... oh well a little dumb, yeah, he definitely thinks she is-- He never had people who were close to him, and definitely didn't had someone THAT determined to bother him 24/7. Maaaybe he could call her something close to a friend... right? (Yes they were she stated that every 3 seconds and Luna rules 🫡) And that was before he "entered" to the Phantom Thieves, and when he did? Damn she was kinda happy! Don't talk about the blackmail part showing off to him and telling him all the cool things she could do as she ""teached"" him about the metaverse (lol like this bitch needed to) and they got even closer!! Damn! Let's go play darts togheter and silly around! Yay! :D

I also like to HC that he would eventually let some good amount of things about his real self slip, and Luna would be like totally clueless and okay about it, when most people would think it was weird or out of character. Maybe that's why he got so weirdly comfortable around her? She didn't gave a fuck-- and oh well he wasn't THAT detective princefied around her by that time. Yeah she's probably the closest he got to it... (sweeps Akira under the rug)

And uh... let's skip allot of things so I won't yap about the whole Akechi arc here. Maybe another day.

But Luna was utterly miserable after everything (yall know what), she wasn't angry... just... shocked. Maybe a bit quieter? Less energetic? She was since the revelation, but it was worse now... and the penny dropped at the worst time-- And uh yeah sad above everything I think that's pretty much expected when you lose someone you really like. Despite everything, he was a friend... someone she cared about... maybe more than she should...

Wait.

Cared about, huh? OH FUCK SHE WAS IN LOVE WITH HIM!!! (Shockerz) GASP WOW WOAH! *VINE BOOM* Who would've guessed. So uhm yeah that sucks, now it's too late...

A little more timeskip--

Oh well damn hi Goro!! What the fuck??? :D

That's where most of the romantic relationship aspects take part, damn he was there now???? It was literally her chance!! To what? Nothing really-- just spend more time to him and get more clingy (like she wasn't enough before) and even MORE bubbly than before!! She was genuinely happy! And now with the useless knowledge that she was utterly and absolutely in love with him. Oh well. And... damn she fell even more for him now! LIKE 20× MORE!! STOP HER PLEASE!!

And uh well she's not very good at hiding it so yeah her secret didn't last long, maybe i'll write how the confession went someday! :)

So basically... at first he was like "What the fuck?? Why????" But uhm maybe er... maybe he uhm... you know-- maaaybeeeee--- okay im flustered BUT MAYBE he would realize in the moment that he was in... love too? Uhm... get a little... yk... awkward there... ,÷*×&×(× er-- I don't know!! I MEAN FUCK OF COURSE HE DID I LITERALLY SELF SHIPP WITH HIM UGH IM DUMB--

OKAY WE ARE DATING NOW. That's the point. 😭😭

It's awkward, not ideal for what people expect of a couple, we definitely still have our little silly banters, he does want to kill me! and i do like to annoy him!! BUT I LIKE IT THAT WAY!! We aren't a veeeery affectionate openly lovey dovey couple but we are deeply in love! And when we do have our little lovey dovey moments it's just us being two dumb messes who don't know a thing about what we are doing! Hand holding? Just the little fingers! Kisses? Barely cheek ones! (On my part obviously im kissing the hell outta his cheeks mwah mwah mwah) I mean, we are trying! I love him and he loves me!! Allot!!! Even if we get a little weird and flustered about it!

>//<

I like awkward dating. It's fun. I love my boyfriend. :>

Oh damn I realized I yapped allot, more than I should-- I was about to write my relationship with other minor characters in the game but uhm that's too much already! Sorry for making you read that much! ^^"

But thank you for reading anyways!! I really appreciate it <3 for reading to my ULTIMATE s/I yapping!! Or... well, a yapping about me! I hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to ask questions about my s/i or my self ship if you have any! Oh damn even yap back at me about your S/I's! F/O's? I would love to hear it! ^^

Bye everyone!!!~ ☆

[voidbeau]

!!!🌹Thorn and Mr. Flower🌿 tiiime!!!

And boy I will never not be so so enthusiastic about these guyz <333

I touched on the dynamics of their relationship in a previous post on my last account before it was terminated. But seeing as that post is lost at sea now, I'll do a bit of recap on that.

Just to have everything neatly in one post.

And then I gotta remember to save this post in a separate document or something in case something happens to this account...

Anyway, the boyz 🌹🌿

---

So, as I've mentioned previously, I've always pictured Mr. Flower and Thorn's relationship to have extremely rocky beginnings.

We're talking, tons of baggage on both sides.

Trust issues from one end and desperate clinging on the other in the form of big promises and what may or may not be tons of lip service.

Not to mention all the potential secret guarding.

Thorn has some form of charm, sure.

Enough that in the beginning he was able to garner interest from Mr. Flower.

"Sure, maybe we'll see where this goes..."

But as I've said before, my take on Mr. Flower is that he's a very closed off individual.

Getting him to open up is like trying to pry open iron doors with nothing but a couple of toothpicks.

Most people aren't likely to have known anything other than an idealized version of himself. The Mr. Flower he wants you to see.

And that version of Mr. Flower can certainly seem pleasant and easy to talk to, but when exposed to it long enough, it becomes obvious how very surface level it all is, but to Mr. Flower, it's preferable to how he knows he can be.

And if you manage to speak with him with his mask off, then you might find yourself wondering if maybe you prefer the performative version of Mr. Flower.

But that was the idea of course.

Give people a better, more palatable alternative.

There have been very few people who have found the real Mr. Flower tolerable to be around and as such, there have been very few people who have found any reason to stick around.

And that's sort of the expected outcome Mr. Flower has of any potential relationship he gets involved in, whether romantic or platonic or whatever else!

He's learned over the years that it's much easier to just to keep his expectations low and others an arm's length away.

And if anyone gets too close, it's best to retreat before things are liable to become painful.

And if for whatever reason, someone tries to persist when pulling away, it's good to remind that person why they thought to keep a distance in the first place, in whatever manner seems necessary in the moment.

Even if feelings are hurt.

Even if it ends the relationship in that moment.

Better to leave than to be left behind yet again.

"It was doomed to fail anyway..."

This man is walled in on all sides.

And yet despite this, Mr. Flower is plagued by the thinnest rays of troubling thoughts and emotions.

Hopefulness and desire for genuine, lasting companionship appear as annoying cracks in the walls Mr. Flower so carefully built up over the years, and despite the constant reminders why it's best not to leave his miserable fortress of self preservation, he often finds himself with one foot out the front gates far too often.

And that was exactly where Thorn found Mr. Flower, hovering just beyond his gates. Open enough to the world that he began his journey with Mr. Flower with a mask half off.

With a glimpse of a real person behind a carefully crafted persona.

Not enough to tell the whole story, but enough to want to uncover that story. To get the full picture.

How desperately Mr. Flower has tried to slip that mask of his back on as soon as he realizes whats been done.

Unfortunately...

"You should know better sweetheart, your tricks don't work on me."

Because Thorn's already gotten a glimpse, so what on earth is this funny little act you're putting on, Mr. Flower? This isn't the you I remember meeting on that rainy evening.

And while this has ignited the tiny embers of hope in Mr. Flower into a small flame, it's also bewildered and frustrated him.

Because Thorn insists on tugging on the edges of Mr. Flower's mask and unraveling his disguise thread by nervous thread. And it would seem that no amount of pulling away or lashing out is doing anything to dissuade this baffling rose man.

Not for long, at least.

And sure, they get into fights- frustrated back and fourths over each other's characters, and despite Mr. Flower thinking,

"This is it. This time for sure, it has to be. This time he's gone for good..."

Thorn always surprises Mr. Flower when he's the one to come back with an apology. When Thorn assumes he's done something to deserve Mr. Flower's ire. When Thorn goes on to admire those things Mr. Flower tries so hard to keep buried.

"I like that part of you. The real you, and how unapologetically you it is." He says through a toothy grin and an airy chuckle.

And Mr. Flower's stomach twists into knots.

"I love how fiery you are when you're not holding yourself back and I admire the honesty, even if it's a little hard to hear sometimes." Says Thorn.

"And though I wish you'd be just a bit more gentle, I also understand the world hasn't exactly been the most gentle with you."

And as Thorn reaches out to gingerly grab at Mr. Flower's hands, all Mr. Flower can do is swallow back the lump in his throat and watch while Thorn plants a soft kiss on those tense hands of his.

"I wouldn't change a thing about you." He says.

He insists.

"I don't understand you..." Says Mr. Flower, quiet and deadpan as he looks up, searching those half lidded, spiral eyes.

Thorn chuckles again, finding amusement over the concern and confusion on Mr. Flower's face, yet never missing the detail of those fanned out ear petals and how they twitch so enthusiastically every so often.

"It's easier to see the details close up." Thorn says, his thumbs caressing Mr. Flower's hands now. "Let me in and I promise it'll make sense."

A simple request, barely above a whisper and it sends Mr. Flower's heart racing and his mind screaming.

He's flooded with thoughts and emotions pulling him in every which direction.

Does he just let that happen? Or does he run as far and fast as his legs can take him?

He isn't sure, and he's frozen in place while Thorn waits patiently for an answer, until he realizes he may not get one in the moment.

"But-... if you're not ready that's okay. I can wait." Says Thorn now, gently letting those hands go as he takes a step back.

And Mr. Flower has to stamp out that desire to close the gap again.

The problem here is that Thorn is all Mr. Flower has left with in the moment.

Perhaps its not so much a problem as it is a solution?

But the idea of relying so heavily on someone is terrifying to Mr. Flower, especially when he knows so little about them.

And while Thorn continues to insist things will be okay and strives to convince Mr. Flower he can be trusted with the monumental task of getting to really know Mr. Flower.

Some things come up.

Something always comes up.

Time goes on and everytime Mr. Flower is at the threshold of his decision, something new comes to light about Thorn that leaves Mr. Flower second guessing everytime.

And everytime he considers that it might be best to leave this one in the dust with all the others, Thorn tugs Mr. Flower back into the same confusing cycle.

"C'mon, babe. It's not like that!"

"I promise it'll make sense, love just give it time."

"I know it sounds crazy, but..."

"I want to tell you, but...

And Mr. Flower is getting tired.

Tired of the secrets, the excuses the half truths. Tired of being talked up and let down every. single. time.

"You keep telling me to open up when I'm not even sure I've ever known who you are!"

And indeed, how can any man be expected to trust a stranger and to love someone you've hardly met?

And yet Mr. Flower is caught in the thickest part of a thorny bramble patch, unable to leave either by his own indecisiveness or because Thorn simply won't let him.

Because despite all the turmoil and uncertainty, there have been very real moments of that genuine connection Mr. Flower craved for so long.

Or at least, he thought there had been.

It's hard to say, and while Thorn insists that yes, of course they were genuine, it's difficult to take him at his word when he's constantly sneaking off late at night, constantly preoccupied with an old flame and always going off about these grand claims he swears are true, in place of the answers Mr. Flower so consistently pleads for.

"I don't understand you..."

"I know, sweetheart I know. Please give it some more time.

I promise it will all make sense."

A few things are for certain about Thorn that Mr. Flower has come to learn.

One is that he is a very busy and singularly minded man, and two is that there are very few things in the world that will come between Thorn and his many mysterious plans.

And the third, it would seem, is that Mr. Flower is not among the exceptions, no matter how much Thorn insists how important Mr. Flower is to him.

There are things that absolutely need changing, and while there are ways in which I could see the two working things out, they are not Without their trials.

Physically, mentally, emotionally, nobody is coming out unscathed. But sometimes you need to tear things apart in order to build anew.

A lot of Thorn's secretiveness is for valid reasons, though I won't go into too much detail cause I have fics planned- even if they take me YEARS to finish.

I will say, he is genuinely in love with Mr. Flower, and while he's not in the greatest place for him to be able to express it like he wants to, I've always imagined that Mr. Flower has a way of grounding Thorn when he gets all caught up in all his mystery work.

And boy howdy is it work.

But it's all worth it if it means securing a future where he can live in peace with his beloved Mr. Flower.

So long as they can weather the current storm.

The way I've seen it is that Thorn showed up around the time Mr. Flower and Mr. Plant began drifting, and since Mr. Flower doesn't have a lot of actual friends, losing the only one he felt he had was surprisingly hard for Mr. Flower to navigate.

He's been alone so long he thought he'd be fine. But thats the issue, Mr. Flower has been alone so long that he's not equipped with the proper tools for maintaining and fixing proper relationships.

Thorn has been a real conundrum for Mr. Flower on top of it all.

He's been as much of a learning experience in the department of communication as he has been a source of stress.

He's been an unlikely steadying hand and also another reason for Mr. Flower to be cautious.

He's heard and learned more about Thorn from others than he's ever learned from Thorn himself, except that Thorn is one large, walking, frustrating mystery to Mr. Flower.

There is definitely more to Thorn than meets the eye and as things progress and Mr. Flower is faced with terrifying revelations about Mr. Plant, Mr. Flower becomes more and more terrified about the things Thorn could actively be hiding.

They are just two performers on separate stages.

And they need to start learning how to get their act together because there's a lot more uncertainty and terrors on the horizon for these two.

----

And also @thatgirlwithasquid since you said you'd be interested in the read. ; v;

[captain-mj]

WEREBEAR KÖNIG, WEREBEAR KÖNIG, WEREBEAR KÖNIG

First of all thank you for indulging my König x Ghost brainworms. SECOND, I loved it. The implication that König has been heavily collared and probably controlled in the past. *Mwah* good shit. Ghost going feral when he shifts? I need to know more! König and Ghost fully shifted encounter when? I think their dynamic here has a lot of potential.

If you are up for another part I will stay away from your teeth for now, but they are on thin ice.

I’ve thought about this more and I’m prepared!!

Part 1

König was cautious for a while. Being stripped of his mask by Ghost had caught him off guard. He felt weird about it. Not quite as angry as he should be honestly. More just... flustered and embarrassed. Ghost had immediately looked at his scars.

König had at one point started to consider himself handsome. It took him ages honestly, he had just joined the army and bulked up a little instead of being as skinny as a twig. Finally eating properly probably helped.

Then the scars happened. The ones across his face at the very least came from the battlefield. While he definitely thought they were ugly, hideous, nothing like Horangi's or Stilleto's, he didn't hate them quite as much as the ones around his throat. Shame filled him.

He honestly wanted to head back to KorTac. This was only temporary after all, but he needed to stay a bit longer. They were partnering with SpecGru for the time being which means he had to be here... With the angry, scary.... kinda hot lieutenant.

König blushed, wondering where that came. Yes, Ghost was tall. Not König height, but tall enough that he didn't feel like he had to back up and look down to speak to him. Ghost was also so commanding. Broad shouldered and willing to put whoever and whatever in their place. It was admirable. König wished he had that confidence.

One thing they had in common though was the unearthly silence they both had. With Ghost, it felt right. He was The Ghost. A Specter more than a Man. When König snuck up on his teammates or appeared out of nowhere, it was creepy. Off-putting. Where Ghost could lean in that, his whole persona hinging on it, König couldn't. Instead he just freaked people out and got called out for sneaking up on them.

König did not like training very much, Yes, he was well aware he needed to and he did regularly, but he didn't like it. And today, something in the air felt wrong.

He told himself it was just his anxiety again, but it didn't feel like he was being stared at. The air itself had a charge to it. König hesitated and considered just leaving. If anyone asked him why he was leaving before touching a single machine, he'd claim he suddenly remembered a meeting he had to go to. Yeah. That made sense. He could...

Ghost moved to spar. The hoodie he wore over his clothing fell to the floor with a thump, leaving him in an short sleeved shirt. König didn't recognize the other person, so not 141 and not KorTac. Maybe some recruit? Or another person like him from a different group? He didn't know.

They sized each other up. The other person looked very, very determined, but that was how most people looked when sparring with Ghost. König wasn't sure why because Ghost was willing to spar anyone if asked. Just no one was brave enough to ask half the time.

"Need me to go easy on you? Don't really learn if its just me tossing you around." Anyone else and König would've rolled his eyes and chalked it up to him being cocky. But with Ghost, it was just true. He was extremely adept at fighting and sparring was pointless if it was just getting your ass handed to you.

König decided to watch. As did half the room.

"For the first round. Need to warm up." Their voice was deep. König tried to guess his accent, but nothing really came to mind.

They were off. The stranger mostly went with quick jabs and tried their best to avoid Ghost. It wasn't the worst strategy, but Ghost had an impressive amount of stamina for his size, so it wasn't the most effective either.

König noticed someone recording and he thought that was odd. Some people recorded their workouts but this was sparring and it didn’t seem like Ghost to allow it. He shrugged it off. What was the saying? Not my circus, not my monkeys?

Ghost took the person down and they bounced right back up. “How did you do that exactly?”

König crossed his arms. Were they… flirting? Gross. Ghost didn’t pick up on it, instead actually instructing them on exactly how.

König noticed seconds before Ghost did.

The recruit grabbed the back of his mask and yanked.

There was a list of reasons this was bad. Besides the fact that Ghost had broken someone’s arm for touching him before (he insisted it was an accident but didn’t apologize) and could be downright evil in his cruelty with people he interrogated, it was also just mean. Why would someone want to do that? Ghost could be a hardass but never without reason. He was never mean without reason. He was cold and distant but König had a feeling that had little to do with his actual personality.

Of course every one was curious about his face. No one got to see it.

Before the cloth had moved an inch, Ghost shredded his clothing with his shift. People started screaming and fleeing, most of them having intimate knowledge of the fact that Wolf Ghost and Human Ghost were very different creatures.

König decided to stop this before there was a casualty. If he took a second to walk forward, he’d blame it on surprise.

The stranger currently had one of the ropes of the arena in front of them as Ghost frantically tried to get to them through it. Ghost hadn’t had time to think, to busy trying to go right for the throat.

König slammed into his side, sending him skidding across the floor. He stood up and quickly realized his mistake.

Ghost was big. It made sense. Big human equals big animal. But he looked more like the direwolves his omi would tell him than the wolves he had seen on missions.

Ghost had intense black fur and he stalked around König, snarling. But König didn’t think he looked angry. No, he looked scared. It made sense. Wolves were not supposed to be alone and not only did Ghost probably feel alone, this person had just cruelly tricked him.

“Simon.” König tried to reason. Someone was yelling about tranquilizers and he immediately grimaced. “No, just all of you leave.”

Ghost threw himself at König, teeth bared. König quickly tried to dodge, watching those giant dripping fangs almost graze him. He panted softly, backing up.

Ghost stalked forward, standing defensively when König simply stepped forward as well. He knew if he shifted, he could more easily pin Ghost down BUT an equal amount of pettiness for getting yelled at and worry they’d both end up tranqued and with giant headaches later kept him from doing so.

König snapped his fingers and Ghost’s attention fell on his hand. He spoke calmly to the stranger. “Go. Quietly. But keep close by. I’m sure Captain Price will be happy to hear of this.” The confidence he usually got on missions kept him steady.

Ghost glared at him. Bright brown eyes That struck fear into people’s hearts. That appeared from the shadows and dragged the soul to the ferryman personally.

Right now, he looked like a nervous puppy.

König softened a tad, now that everyone was gone he took off his hood slowly and then his jacket, glad he went with a zip up one. They had the room and no one else would come in until one of them gave the all clear. Its why they paired them up.

“You’re not feral.” He spoke softly. “Just spooked. Like a horse. Shifting has never been pleasant for you, has it?”

If Ghost could understand him was still up for debate. But clearly something agitated him because he was trying to get to König’s throat again. Killing bite, fast and efficient.

König finally shifted and they wrestled with each other. He knew normally, Ghost could beat his ass. Hell, if he was a bit more sound, he probably could with both of them shifted. But as is, Ghost couldn’t strategize and König could. Its how he ended up with Ghost on his back, König’s teeth around his throat, careful not to sink in, and his paw on Ghost’s surprisingly soft feeling tummy.

They sat there a while. König able to feel the pulse through his teeth.

It slowed once he realized König wasn’t killing him. He tried to wiggle away but König applied more pressure to his paw and he stilled.

Ghost melted back to a person. It was… shockingly graceful considering how he had acted. König suddenly dwarfed him. He pulled back slowly, ignoring the copious amounts of drool on Ghost’s throat.

Oh.

Ghost was pretty.

He had a strong nose, soft lips and a lot more hair than König had been expecting. It looked bleached and slightly curly, maybe wavy was better. Like König, he had scars. Glasgows along with a few on his cheek that connected to a slice on his ear. König wondered if he had been able to pay attention, if he would’ve seen the chunk from his ear in wolf form too.

Ghost stared at him. Both of them were half naked, bodies aching from unexpected shifts. Ghost also looked lost. Something soft in his eyes. König was careful not to look down, both of them remaining eye contact as is making sure neither broke that rule.

His eyes seemed to freeze over as he came back to himself. “Fucking bastard. Ill eat him alive, shifted or not.” He grimaced as he moved and König wanted to ask how long it had been. Ghost kept himself under wraps pretty well but tons of people snuck out too shift occasionally. Let out steam.

Ghost’s mask had been torn to shreds in the shift. “Fucking hell.”

König didn’t let himself think. He dropped the sniper hood over Ghost. “I had been wearing a neck gaiter in case the hood got too hot. Ill wear that.”

Ghost looked up at him and the word pitiful came to mind. König didn’t like it. “Thank you, König.” He pulled on the hoodie he had dropped before going into the ring. His pants were half shredded but he pulled those on anyway. It would have to do until they got to their room.

König also pulled on his half shredded clothing to follow him.

He wondered if Ghost would join him on a night out if he asked.

[mollypollykinz]

Hello! I’ve been binge reading Throw Away Your Mask and now that I’m caught up, I’d love to know more about your thought process on how you set up Akechi’s social links if you’re cool with discussing it! Specifically I’m kind of curious about how you chose which characters to have him bond with / how you determined which arcana to use (especially for characters with a different arcana compared to their bond with the protagonist of their respective game).

Ooooo good question! So I did some planning before I actually started writing the fic. There were some characters I Knew right away I wanted Goro to have social links with (like Ken, Shinjiro, and Kanji). Some social links were fill-ins for arcana I was still missing. I also really wanted to write an original character (in the same vein as marigolds), especially since I did want a child classmate character who really displayed childishness in a way that Goro and Ken were never gonna bring to the table. I wrote a list of the major arcana in my notes and then matched the names up like this (i copied and pasted this straight from my notes):

Arcana Social Links for pic -Priestess - Kurusu Akira -Tower - Shido Masayoshi -Fool - “Kurusu Tsuyoshi” Nyarlathotep -Judgement - Velvet Room Attendants -Sun - Dojima Nanako -Fortune - Naoto -Emperor - Kanji -Aeon - Teddie -Magician - Hanamura Yosuke -Star - Narukami Yu -Hierophant - Kanji’s mom -Temperance - Junpei -Hanged man - Kirijo Takeharu -Lovers - Ryoji -Chariot - Dojima Ryataro -Empress - Kirijo Mitsuru -Moon - Aragaki Shinjiro -Justice - Amada Ken -Hermit - Takaya -Jester- Adachi Tohru -Strength - Yamamoto Emiko -Death - Minato -Devil - Ikutski Shuji

I decided who was matched with which arcana based off of the arcana definitions in the persona wiki. The arcana pages in the persona wiki also gives common themes between social links within that arcana, so that impacted my decision too. Sometimes, i looked up the definition of an arcana outside of the wiki tho. My sister also came up with some of the matches when I had some blank spots (like Shido being Tower and Dojima being Chariot). I didn't want all of the characters to have the same arcana as they do in canon because I thought that was less fun than mixing it up. Obviously some arcana were too good to not keep, such as Ken being Justice. Another issue that came up is that I would use the canon arcana for one character (Ken), but then I obviously couldn't use it on Nanako too. When choosing arcana I also didn't really care about the 'gender roles' of each arcana. I honestly had a lot of fun giving Akira priestess (because the arcana meaning really fit the way I was characterizing him in this fic) and Ryoji Lovers (because Lovers always goes to a girl but it represents crossroads and Ryoji is a pretty big crossroads).

For a lot of the social links (not all lol), I also planned out each rank up. I tended to change certain details while writing, so this is what it kinda looked like:

Rank 3: Wednesday 13 May: After Akechi joins SEES, he meets up with Shinji. He asks why Shinji isn’t in SEES and Shinji says nothing. akechi is frustrated by this but drops it. RANK UP Rank 4: Wednesday September 2: Shinji joins SEES and Akechi’s like dude finally and Shinji says something about his past beginning to catch up with him and Akechi’s like what the hell bro. Rank 5: Sunday September 6: Shinji offers to teach Akechi how to cook. Akechi can always appreciate good life skills and accepts his offer. They make a tradition out of it.

Finally, I decided which characters to give social links just based off of who I think would have the most interesting character dynamics with Akechi/who would bring something new to the table. Also some characters' plots would make Akechi feel bigger feelings than others. But like part of the reason Shinji gets a social link and Akihiko doesn't is because Akihiko is kinda attached to Shinjiro's social link with Goro (think sorta daisuke and kou in persona 4). Naoto got a social link because *Detective Prince* TM, that sort of thing. Obviously other characters who didn't get social links also had a lot of potential, but I was already stretching my limit by including aeon and jester (jester was originally not going to be used but then takaya became a social link by hijacking the plot so i had to give up adachi's hermit status to takaya, which worked much better anyway).

So yeah. I put a lot of thought into it.