#primarily a bit and something you can ignore if you want to. but also the coding is there

[codecicle]

hate when others force my favorite characters into a "found family" scenario. love when i do it because I'm enlightened and a higher power informed me of their dynamic. sad! try again next time!

[dontbesoweirdkira]

howdyyy, what do u think of plat yan! dick grayson (or platonic yan father bruce wayne up to u) with a batsis who is very disinterested with him primarily bc when she was younger she idolised him a lot but now not so much. there are comics where grayson has cheated on his partners before so imagine batsis coming to realise as she aged and matured that her doting brother is a bit of a playboy…. a lot like a playboy actually—

You know, this is actually extremely realistic. There's nothing like the rose color glasses falling off and realizing just how messed up your family truly is.

I'd like to think that there was plenty of jokes and mentions about Dick being a playboy but Batsis would just be absolutely clueless. You probably just thought it was a reference to his charming appearance or the way he gets hit on at least once whenever he goes out. Not really that he was an notorious heart breaker.

Like i don't think the other batkids had serious talks about it in front of you because of your (then) age or maybe it was a request by Dick so he could keep on his perfect mask with you?

Ironically, he wouldn't want any man to treat his little sister (or any of them) the way he does to other women but he has a problem. I will say though, it makes absolute sense that Dick or even the others would have issues keeping relationships or even have sex addictions. I mean it's a real issue that many people are struggling with right now. But can you imagine your father constantly bringing home women and cheating your entire childhood? Like Bruce introduces some of these women to them, they get attached to this potential mother then it's ripped away to be discarded for the new catch. I think that definitely warped Dick's view of women and romance stems from that. *intense mommy issues* But also i mentioned before that it's hard for him to maintain relationships while taking on the fatherly role in the family. His obsession with making sure all of his siblings are cared for and protected(mixed with being nightwing), makes it all the more difficult. Maybe that leads him to just hooking up with and being sloppy in his relationships. Maybe its just a means of stress relief and that causes him to almost dehumanize/objectify the women he "romances".

I'm not saying this is justifiable, cheating is disgusting and his behaviors are something that needs to be corrected regardless of mommy issues but for headcanon sake we are entertaining the concept

I'm not sure how you'd exactly find out about it. Maybe one of the kids let it slip and didn't bother to do damage control because you're old enough now? Maybe you spoke to one of his exes that is still friendly with the batfam? Or maybe your brain started to develop and you realized he wasn't hanging out with that new super model as just friends all night...it was something more and his girlfriend definitely didn't know about it.

Regardless, I think when you finally found out about everything, your world crushed. I don't think you'd hate him but you just feel yucky about the whole thing. Now when you look at him something in your stomach just sinks. You might even wonder if you can trust him. I mean if he's got that much of a problem to be dishonest with his lovers, then why would it be so left field to suggest he lied to you too when he said he loves you or that you were his favorite? The transition from you idolizing him to being standoff-ish would be extremely noticeable to him. I mean it's hard to ignore when you were his mini me. Even as you got older you followed him around and never skipped an opportunity to be near.

He wouldn't think that it was because of the playboy thing, maybe just you needing some space as a teen. Everyone has gone through that phase before but when he notices your shift is only directed towards him, he's a little upset about it. He doesn't understand what he did wrong? One day you guys are eating ice cream together while having a sleepover in his room to you treating him like a disease.

Eventually your big brother corners you and makes you to confess whats bothering you. He apologizes if something he said rubbed you the wrong way but you couldn't keep treating him this way.

"uhm..i dunno, dick? I found out how you've been treating you partners and i think it's kinda gross. I guess i just don't really wanna be around someone who treats women like that right now..."

I think Dick's reaction would be complete shock....who tf told you?! He has no defense but he tries to muster up one before realizing this is just making him look worse when EVERYBODY knows how much of a whore he is lol. He'd back off of you and maybe even mutter an apology before walking away to go collect himself.

He's furious as well...whoever told you will be getting an earful because they just ruined something precious to him. (yeah they did. totally not his OWN actions) If it was one of his brothers, he will be throwing hands.

Dick does very much care about others perception of him, i've said this before. He knew he had a problem and his other siblings have spoken to him about it and it affected him but never enough to change. It's just a far deeper issue than wanting a quick fuck in the expense of his partners...But seeing his baby sister look at him with just so much disgust and disappointment was enough to cause him to spiral. He's not proud of his actions and knows he's hurt and discarded of many, many women for his own satisfaction. It's deplorable. I can imagine him taking maybe a few days to himself, he's just in his head while being overtaken by heavy guilt.

I'm not sure if Dick would actually change for you though? I think he is even debating it. Yeah he's a yandere for his batsis but is his obsession with you enough to kick the other one to the curb? That's up to you. A hopeful person would say, yes he would. Anything for his babybat! He's going to do whatever it takes to prove himself again, anything to make you proud. This habit isn't worth it if hes loosing you.

My opinion? No, he won't change after his guilt wears off. He'll just pretend like he's reborn. Dick would try for like a week and then go right back to doing his habits. He's a manipulative piece of work and yeah, lying to you is bad but he wants his cake and to eat it too. He's not willing to give up anything that gives him a euphoric boost. Shh...what you don't know, won't kill you.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

HI SWEETIE I HAVE A REQUEST!! i hope you dont mind!

so, bucky and f!reader, maybe married and they have a baby together. after that time of recovery reader is a bit shy of her own body cause it's been a while since they did it and she isnt back at her pre-pregnancy weight and bucky is absolutely like mind blown by her beauty? like, nearly drooling? and please can you add body worship on this?

i seriously hope it's okay for you, but if it's not please ignore this!

HII BBY!! I love love love it. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

DEFLECTION.

​bucky barnes x fem!reader (married & parents) — comfort

word count. 1031

disclaimer. the hair colour and type has no significance to the writing. the gif just suits the theme of this fic. also please read the ask carefully

Only a few short months ago, you gave birth to a healthy baby girl - a daughter you shared with your husband, Bucky. Very quickly she became the sole focus of your attention, neither of you having much time to do anything like you used to. 

Consequently, your sex life had taken a hit, and not because of the significant decrease in quality time, but instead something far more complex.

So far, motherhood has been a slight struggle to adjust to - the differences in your life between then and now are almost stark. You've been trying to adapt to all the changes that come with it, the main being your new body. You've been feeling shy and insecure with your new shape, often feeling like the weight will never drop off to what you looked like before.

It was hard to digest the change.

You were in the bathroom to freshen up, your eyes looking back at you in the mirror almost pitifully - your gaze travelling down, honing in on your stomach through your once baggy tee.

"They're here," Bucky calls from the other room, his voice putting a hold on the thoughts in your mind.

You step out of the bathroom, meeting your husband and daughter by the front door, a pink baby bag slung over his shoulder.

He notices the downcast direction of your eyes, seeing the way you tried to pull away from his attention. "Everything okay?" he asks you, rocking his little girl in his arms, bouncing her when she makes a noise.

You hum, walking closer to say goodbye to your baby - running a finger over her soft cheek. 

He doesn't believe you, though he waits for it to be just the two of you before he can question it. He doesn't want to create a situation before your parents arrive to pick up your daughter. They offered to have her for a few hours to give you both some respite.

The second the door closes, and it's just the two of you again, he turns to look at you - his brows curled up inquisitively.

"Now, what's really going on?" he asks, referring to all those times you shut yourself off from him - primarily that one a few minutes ago.

You turn away, heading to the kitchen to get a drink. "Going on with what?" you deflect, trying to avoid the topic.

He follows you, standing behind you at the sink - his arms wrapping around your middle, chin resting over your shoulder. 

But he's too close to where you don't want him, so you flinch at his touch, moving his hands away from your tummy and stretching the hem of your top - pulling on the fabric.

Bucky rips his hands from you, your avoidance of his touch making things whirl in his mind. "You don't like that anymore?" he asks, stepping aside to face the side of you.

"I do... just— just not right now," you reply, taking a quick sip of water before moving across the kitchen - heading towards the fridge. "Tired, feel gross," you shrug, trying to ease the tension you accidentally created. 

"That's not it," he softly shakes his head, eyes focused on you even though every glance goes unreciprocated. "It's something else."

"Just need a nap and shower," you partially lie, pulling out two apples, handing him one.

He doesn't accept your attempt at deflection, instead turning it down. "No, it's something else," he continues, his eyes glued to the side of your face. "And you're afraid of saying it."

"I'm not," you softly protest, voice quiet.

"So it is something else," he mutters, the unknown confession of you making things easier for him, harder for you.

You're cornered. You sigh and nod faintly, closing the door of the fridge. 

"What is it? Please talk to me," he reaches for your hand, fingers wrapping themselves around yours. "It's just the two of us, no distractions... what's been going on?"

"It's hard to get used to," you start, pausing to think of what to say next.

"What is? Being a mom?" he asks, noticing your focused gaze on the baby stuff on the counter. 

You nod, pausing once more. "Not just that," you exhale, shrugging. "Everything's changed."

"With us?" he asks, hand tightening in yours. 

"With me," you correct, looking down at your hand in his. "I've changed, and I'm not used to it... I don't like it."

"How have you changed?" he questions, trying to prompt more answers from you. 

"My body has," you softly reply, trying not to squirm at your confession. "My boobs, tummy, my hair. The weight is taking longer to come off than I thought, and I feel— I feel like a..." you go quiet, not wanting to finish your sentence.

However, Bucky's not done coaxing words from you. His face softens when you finally meet his gaze, his features inviting and knowing. "Feel like a what?" he whispers.

"I don't know," you shrug again.

"'You are not your thoughts'," he says, reciting those words you've said to him countless times after his nightmares. Though now he's repurposing them to someone else who needs them, you. "I repeat that saying in my head all the time. Do you know who taught me that?" he asks, his gaze honing in on you - trying to stop you from looking away.

"Me," you whisper. 

"That's right," he nods, bringing his spare hand to cup your cheek. "You need to use that same kindness to yourself. And right now," he starts, pressing a kiss into your lips. "You have never looked more beautiful to me."

You softly frown, the rest of your features relaxing.

"Your body gave us a daughter," he smiles. "You made her. You may or may not get your ‘old body back.’ But the one you have now is perfect too.”

"Thank you," your voice cracks, the sweet words of your lover soothing all the doubts in your mind. You envelop him in an embrace, arms hugging around him in the ways you've recently longed for. "I mean it."

His arms wrap around you just as tight, one hand running up your spine. "So do I.”

[yanderes-galore]

So... what about headcanons of Vox and Alastor fighting over a Fallen Angel! GN Reader?

Oh No... Vox and Alastor alone is bad enough... with a Fallen Angel is somehow worse. I will be honest, I struggled HARD on this one, even with @okchijt's help. So I hope what I got across was coherent, even if not all that intense.

Yandere! Vox vs Alastor with Fallen Angel! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Jealousy, Coercion, Violence, Dubious relationship/companionship.

First of all, if we take Lucifer into account, fallen angels are powerful.

Even Vaggie, who I think I can rope into that category, is strong in a different way.

I personally consider fallen angels rare.

Lucifer and Vaggie are the only ones I can really think of in Hell.

So imagine the fame you can get as a fallen angel?

That would be Vox's beginning obsession with you.

A fallen angel would be great for views.

Meanwhile, Alastor would probably first be intrigued due to the power angels contain, even when fallen.

Although, Alastor may also just be interested since Vox is.

Alastor would do anything to piss the TV off.

The two would start their obsessions simply for their own goals.

Vox wants to use your rarity to his advantage.

While Alastor both wants to mess with Vox and fuel his own motives.

Essentially, both Overlords want a deal with you.

Which often leaves you trying to avoid and ignore them.

I feel like any Alastor vs Vox rivalry is created primarily due to the hate they have for each other.

Vox may genuinely feel he has feelings for you or just want to own a powerful being such as yourself.

Meanwhile Alastor primarily wants you as it would devastate Vox.

That or maybe Alastor gets interested in you first, as two fallen angels I know of work at the hotel already.

Only for Vox to catch wind of it and begin to envy that Alastor managed to score a fallen angel.

Both definitely try to tempt you.

Vox more than anything, with fame and stardom.

While Alastor tried to tempt you with power, a deal that could benefit both of you.

It's all just a competition to get you on one side or the other.

How they do it definitely depends on your strength.

If you're near Lucifer's power, then kidnapping is out of the question.

They'd need to use manipulation to coax you into siding with one of them.

If you're similar to Vaggie or somewhere a bit stronger?

They could probably kidnap you if they lured you somewhere.

A big part of the rivalry is control and power struggles.

It feels a lot like you're being used.

In fact, for the most part, you are.

The two only seem to want you to gloat to the other one.

It's petty and very much like them to do.

Between the two, you'd probably side with Alastor more.

Maybe you've fallen by a mistake.

Maybe you want to go back to heaven?

You don't entirely trust him, but Alastor no doubt picks up on this.

He may even tempt you into a deal, saying that staying with him will give you a chance to get back into heaven.

You just need to make a deal.

Of course, Alastor is a liar, but naive you don't know that.

The only catch is you stay away from Vox.

He likes to make you think that, anyways.

You'll never properly rehabilitate as Alastor will always make you fail.

Both of your "admirers" want to make a deal with you.

While you don't trust either of them, you're also unfamiliar with deals.

So maybe you will stay with Alastor.

But Vox always seems more... welcome.

After all, he wants to make you feel welcome.

Always with honeyed words and friendly gestures.

While Alastor does something similar...

It's all manipulation.

All little lies and fake faces, just to make you trust them.

That's all the rivalry is.

Mind games and competition.

Two demons tempting a naive fallen angel, fresh out of heaven and into the fiery pits.

A rabbit entering a lion's den.

To them it's definitely all about control.

You may be naive, but you've still got some power.

At first, it really is all about power.

Yet over time... It's something else.

Perhaps they begin to want your companionship.

Like with Vox bribing you to stay at the tower.

Or Alastor suggesting you spend more time at the hotel for "redemption".

Perhaps they begin to enjoy your presence.

A little slice of heaven, y'know?

It's eventually less about power, and more just craving your presence.

Fighting to win you over eventually makes them obsessed.

After all, neither of them could ask for a better prize.

A fallen angel? Imagine the attention they'd get when they make you theirs?

So... even when they're obsessed, it's really all about ownership.

Even when they begin to care more, they still want to win against the other.

When affectionate, the two have a possessive undertone.

Their rivalry is bad enough as is.

But with a being such as you, someone so easy to exploit...

It only seems to make things worse for you, stuck between two demons who are competing on who can own you first.

[lloydskywalkers]

Imperium's Worst-Compensated Wage Worker

Or the perils of minimum wage, brought to you by the Good Empress Beatrix. (fighting writer's block with this admittedly silly and very much non-canon oneshot. like it could technically happen around season one? if the writers acknowledged the oni/dragon thing again? but in the meantime i thought it'd be funny.)

Not that Dyne’s opinion has any genuine bearing upon the Good Empress Beatrix’s decisions, much less Dr. LaRow’s often intense (and as he’s recently learned, morally bankrupt) dedication to powering Imperium, but the latest dragon they’ve hauled into the lab is…strange. 

Primarily because it is not, in fact, a dragon. 

“Oh, it’s a dragon alright,” Dr. LaRow says. “Well, partly. You should take the time to dig into Ninjago’s myths and history, if you have the chance, it’s all very fascinating. The genealogy alone is a mess.”

The dragon(?) makes a dry sound. Dyne risks glancing at the figure imprisoned in the golden barrier. They look rather bored, all things considered. You’d almost think that they were the one observing an imprisoned Dr. LaRow, instead of the other way around.

They also look nothing like a dragon. 

“Isn’t that right?” Dr. LaRow grins at the figure. “You’ll have to tell me about this supposed Oni part of your heritage. Your history books are fairly uninformative. That is, if you’re able to talk after I’ve started draining you.”

The prisoner simply smiles back, their teeth a little too sharp to be normal. Dyne feels his skin crawl as unnaturally green eyes rove over the lab. They land on him for only a beat, but it’s long enough to leave Dyne feel like he’s been lasered through. 

He feels he should probably give Dr. LaRow’s “not human” diagnosis a bit more credit. 

Unfortunately, Dyne also has the sinking feeling that Dr. LaRow is messing with something she absolutely, a hundred percent, should not be. Like those terrible movies his friend used to screen in private, where the witless explorers ignore every warning and awake an ancient evil that melts the flesh from their faces. 

That’s what those eyes feel like — a flesh-melting stare of green. 

“You could always save me the trouble and start talking now.” Dr. LaRow makes a mockery of knocking her fist against the barrier. “Did you bite your tongue? You were so loud when they brought you in.”

The person — dragon, dragon, he needs this job — stares at the ceiling long-sufferingly. 

“Hm.” Dr. LaRow clicks her tongue. “We’ll see how quiet you are after we start taking that power of yours.”

That one’s enough to prompt Dyne to speak up. He’s been having enough of a crisis over the reality that they drain living dragons down here. Draining the drag— alright, prisoner — is an entirely new crisis just waiting for him.

“Excuse me, great Dr. LaRow,” he says, sweating. “The prisoner — are we sure it’s safe to drain it like we do the dragons? They aren’t exactly…the same.”

“Safe?” Dr. LaRow’s eyebrows shoot up. “Tell me, guard. Are you here to ask questions?”

Dyne wisely holds his tongue. Dr. LaRow nods in satisfaction. 

“It’s a dragon, alright. My energy sensors are never wrong!”

Dyne wants to question if her sensors might have a bad day every once in a while, but he also likes living in relative peace. 

It simply doesn’t make sense. The prisoner doesn���t look a thing like the other dragons. Of course, they also don’t look entirely human, features too-sharp and eyes too-bright, but the tousled blond hair and tanned skin, now darkened in blood and bruises from the scuffle, could pass for any other Imperium citizen. 

There’s also a distinct lack of wings, or scales, or actual draconic characteristics of any sort. 

“And they tell me there’s quite a bit we can get out of you,” Dr. LaRow tells the prisoner.

The prisoner’s brow furrows, the action pulling at the bruising gash at their right temple enough that a new stream of blood traces down their cheek. Their expression twitches, but they continue to hold Dr. LaRow’s stare. 

“I think I’ll enjoy this,” Dr. LaRow grins widely. 

_____

As they reach the twenty-four hour mark since the prisoner’s capture, Dr. LaRow is most certainly not enjoying this. 

“—unbelievable, what useless imp decided to short out the entire draining system, the wiring’s in shambles—”

Dyne watches as Dr. LaRow storms around the lab, fuming as she tosses through tools. He holds his blaster close to his chest, as if it will protect both him and his job from her wrath.

From the corner of his eye, he can spot a disturbingly smug grin creeping up the prisoner’s face. Dyne wonders if it was less a useless imp who shorted out the wiring and more a supposed dragon. 

He’s also elected to abandon calling them a dragon altogether. He’s likely to start laughing if he does, and Dyne is clinging to his sanity enough as it is. 

Dr. LaRow finally slams her fist against the control panel, cursing. With a look as if someone’s made her swallow a lemon, she keys in a complicated string of numbers on the control panel, the barrier around the prisoner shuddering as the floor creaks. The prisoner looks mildly concerned, but as it ends as soon as it began, they retreat to their look of utter apathy once again. 

“It’s your lucky day,” she grits out at the prisoner. “Looks like we’ll give you some time to catch your breath before we draining you.”

The prisoner simply crosses their legs, clasping their hands in their lap as they stare at the ceiling.

“In the meantime,” Dr. LaRow huffs, swiping at her data pad. “I may as well get what I can out of you. I’m not as used to working with subjects who can talk back, so this is an interesting experience for us both.”

The prisoner says nothing, their eyes glazing over as they continue staring at the ceiling, as if Dr. LaRow’s existence is as interesting as dirt. Dyne has to applaud their nerve — Dr. LaRow looks as if she’s about to pop a vein.

“You know, while I was researching your backwater realm’s history, I came across a good deal about a Green Ninja,” she tries. “I suppose it’d be an obvious assumption, simply because you prefer one color. But I do wonder.”

“If you’ve stuck me in here for being part-dragon,” the prisoner finally sighs. “You probably know enough.” 

“So you admit it,” Dr. LaRow smiles in triumph. “You’re one of your realm’s guardians. The lead one, if I’m correct.”

The prisoner’s eyes roll briefly back in their head, and they return to saying nothing. 

Dr. LaRow grits her teeth, smile growing tight. “Such a fun little color-coded group. When you run dry, I’ll move onto them next. I can start with the blue one, or the red one—”

“Don’t.” The prisoner’s voice cracks across the lab, louder and colder than anything else they’ve said. For the first time since the guards dragged them in, a truly vicious anger burns in their eyes. “Don’t you dare touch them.”

“Hmm, is that a sore spot?” Dr. LaRow seems thrilled, typing at her pad. “Interesting, interesting.”

The prisoner bares their teeth, looking for the first time somewhat like the dragon they’re supposed to be. And perhaps Dyne is just overtired, or he’s bought a little too much into the myths from Ninjago Dr. LaRow’s been having them all comb through, but the lab suddenly feels much smaller, as if the air’s being compressed. His skin prickles, hair standing on end again, and his flight or fight reaction kicks up about twenty notches. 

If Dyne didn’t know that running would probably end in Dr. LaRow feeding him to an actual dragon to silence him, he’d be booking it out of the lab already.

The prisoner glares at Dr. LaRow for a moment longer, eyes turning a violent green — then they jerk back, expression contorting. Dyne lets out a quiet, shaky breath as he finds himself breathing easy again. 

Dr. LaRow smirks as the prisoner glares at the shimmering floor beneath their feet in consternation, the clinical metal pulling back to reveal ugly, roughly-constructed black stone shot through with streaks of yellow. 

“I was hoping that dealer wasn’t upselling me,” she says, tapping at her data pad cheerfully. “That stone cost us quite a bit.”

A string of muttered curses escapes the prisoner’s mouth. 

“—do people keep getting their hands on this like it’s buy-one-get-one-free at the mall, it isn’t that common—”

“Though it will be annoying,” Dr. LaRow’s expression sours again. “Having to admit that Rapton scrounged up something useful for once.”

As the prisoner now looks like they’re planning a particularly violent list of future murders in their head, Dyne takes a careful, measured step back and tries to pretend he’s invisible. 

_____

Dyne considers himself a decent person. Most times, he sleeps just fine at night with the knowledge that he’s done his best to live a moral and upstanding life as a good citizen under the Good Empress Beatrix. 

And until now, he’s been perfectly content in his position as a guard of Imperium. Helping safeguard their great empire and its citizens is a noble duty, one he takes great pride in. 

This was all before he got moved down to the labs for being “a remarkably wise and clearheaded individual” — which he’s now learned is code for “knows how to keep his mouth shut”. 

Three days in to the new position, and two days into having taken what’s definitely not a dragon in for draining, all of that is crashing down around his head.

“There we go,” Dr. LaRow adjusts her glasses, smiling as the row of monitors flicker back to life. “All back online and ready to go. I should probably invest in more of that stone, just in case…”

The prisoner shoots her a particularly rude gesture from behind the glowing barrier. They look a little worse for wear today, the bruising at their temple having turned an ugly, mottled purple. The dark circles beneath their eyes nearly match it shade for shade, and a portion of their blond hair is crusted with dried blood. 

It must hurt, though you’d never know it, from the prisoner’s increasingly heated glares.

Dyne swallows. He knows very well that forcibly draining the life force out of any being is bad. He knows it’s even worse to stand by and watch the life force get drained out of a person who’s noticeably younger than he is.

He also knows that he’s going to end up with Dr. LaRow’s socket wrench through his skull if he tries to protest. Which leaves him at a bit of an impasse. 

“You’re making a mistake,” the prisoner speaks up quietly, as Dr. LaRow preps the system.

“Oh, I really don’t think I am,” she says. “You’re going to help me power Imperium for the better, you know? Well, I suppose you wouldn’t know too much about all this, coming from a backwater realm like you do.”

“What, this?” The prisoner waves their hand at the glowing barrier. “No, no, I’m familiar. Been there, done that. Last time I was in an exploding plane, it was a lot more exciting.”

Dyne’s eyebrows shoot up despite himself. As if sensing his curiosity, the prisoner’s eyes flick to him, their mouth twitching. 

Dr. LaRow makes an irritated sound. 

“Keep an eye on it, alright? I need you to make sure it doesn’t keel over dead or anything,” Dr. LaRow instructs him, acknowledging to Dyne for the first time in…well. Perhaps it’s better if he doesn’t think about that.

Sanity hanging on by a thread, and all.

“You could at least say keep an eye on him,” the prisoner mutters. “I am a person. With a name, if anyone cares.”

They — he, Dyne corrects, because he does have some semblance of a conscience — looks irritated, but in a very exhausted way, as if he’s been in this particular situation enough times to find it boring. 

Dr. LaRow smiles tightly. “Let’s see how that nerve of yours holds up now, shall we?” She twists the dial with a savage kind of enthusiasm.

To his credit, the prisoner manages to mask any reaction as first, only tensing up as the golden barriers surge to life. He’s bitten his lip, but otherwise he seems just as unruffled as he’s been.

Then Dr. LaRow triples the intensity, and the prisoner crumples forward, barely catching himself on his hands as he shudders in pain. 

“Oh, not cool,” he wheezes, fingernails digging into the floor. “Ow, hell—”

“There we go,” Dr. LaRow says, her glasses glinting in the golden light as she studies the readings gleefully. “See that, mildly competent guard? It’s as dragon as they get. We can power a whole block with this!”

“Wonderful,” the prisoner rasps, fingernails now biting into his arms as he steels himself against the obvious pain. “Getting used as — a literal battery — no-ow, ow, ow. Powering — small kitchen appliances — that’s me.” 

Dr. LaRow clicks her tongue. “I don’t suppose you’d want to rate your discomfort on a scale from one to ten?” she says sweetly. “It’s important that all my subjects feel they have a voice.”

“Two — out of ten,” the prisoner gasps. “Overlord — did it better. Get on his — level, and we’ll talk.”

“Overlord,” Dr. LaRow says, tapping at her data pad. “I’ll have to track him down next.”

Absently, she twists the dial a level higher. Dyne cringes. 

The prisoner bangs his head against the floor, his cursing muffled. 

“Hmm, we aren’t getting as much out of you now,” Dr. LaRow mutters, tapping at her data pad. “Maybe you have a lower limit than most dragons.”

“Hope you choke,” comes the seething response. “Gonna — bite you, when they…break me out…”

“Break you out? Our security is the most advanced in all the realms,” Dr. LaRow laughs. “We’re more than prepared for any threat that would try to free you.”

Despite the clear pain the prisoner’s in, his lips twitch.

“Not prepared for Nya,” he mutters, before cutting off in a strangled swear as Dr. LaRow ups the intensity yet another level. 

Dyne resist the urge to bury his face in his hands. 

Oh, he’s most certainly developing another six crises after this. 

He knew he should’ve just applied for garden maintenance.  

_____

A little over forty-eight hours in, Dyne decides he can only take so much without doing anything. 

Dr. LaRow went ahead and tossed the prisoner in one of the holding cells after draining what she could, called away by Empress Beatrix for what’s likely not anything good, and probably something incredibly destructive and morally bankrupt. 

She’s also neglected to give the prisoner any kind of hydration. If he were actually a dragon, this might not be as much of a problem, only two days in. But considering Dyne’s very logical assumption that he isn’t, it could prove a somewhat deadly problem. 

So with Dr. LaRow stuck catering to Empress Beatrix’s every whim for the rest of the day, Dyne feels somewhat confident in his decision. 

One water bottle never led to an entire prison break, did it? 

The prisoner stares at the bottle Dyne’s shoved through the barrier opening, brow furrowed.

“It’s not poisoned,” Dyne says, quickly. “Or drugged, or anything. I wouldn’t — that’d be stupid.”

The prisoner’s mouth quirks. 

“Thanks,” he says, taking the bottle. His voice is a little raspy, but much softer now that he isn’t violently cursing out Dr. LaRow. 

He proceeds to tear the top off and chug the entire thing. 

“I can, ah, bring more,” Dyne says, slightly horrified. “I should’ve grabbed another.”

“Mmh, no worries,” the prisoner says, polishing off the bottle. He glances at Dyne.  

 “I guess you probably couldn’t smuggle food in,” he says, visibly wilting and pretending he isn’t. 

Dyne shifts, at war with himself. 

Well, a packaged snack bar never led to an entire prison break either, did it?

“Oh, fank eff-ess-em.” The prisoner barely takes time to breathe as he devours the bar. “Owe you one for d’at.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Dyne says, before abruptly remembering he’s supposed to be an intimidating guard. It’s the prisoner’s fault, for acting so weirdly casual about being imprisoned. 

“Nah, people don’t really think about this part often,” the prisoner says. “They lock you up and assume you’ll just survive without eating or drinking anything. I mean, if you’re gonna rant about how you need my strength all day, at least make sure I have any, and I’m not like, a corpse by day six, you know?”

Dyne adds weirdly friendly toward obvious enemies to the list.

“Anyways, thank you,” the prisoner finishes off the last of the ration bar, looking far more at ease. “It must be a pain, working under that doctor all the time.”

“I am fortunate to have such a trusted position in the great workings of Imperium,” Dyne recites on instinct. “Helping Dr. LaRow detain prisoners such as yourself is a…it’s a…”

The prisoner raises an eyebrow. 

Dyne deflates. 

“Yeah, maybe work on your elevator pitch there.” 

“Apologies, prisoner.” 

“Y’know, I do have a name,” the prisoner sighs.

Dyne winces. “Oh, yes. Well, obviously. What…is it?”

He smirks. “I’ll tell you when I’m out of here.”

“Ah.” Dyne isn’t sure how to respond to that one.

“No offense, I just don’t know how much you know, and I don’t wanna risk it. I kinda have a bad track record with people out to get me.” 

“No, that’s…I don’t blame you,” Dyne says, staring at his boots. “Considering the situation.”

The bars between them loom dramatically. Dyne begins his seventh moral crisis. 

The prisoner eyes him, almost curious. The expression looks far more at ease on his face than the glares he’s been routinely sending Dr. LaRow’s way. It also makes him look a good deal younger, which does absolutely nothing for Dyne as he begins his eighth crisis of crippling guilt. 

“Hey,” the prisoner says. “Have you guys heard of Starfarer here?”

_____

At five in the morning on day four, Dyne finds himself listening intently as the prisoner tells him about the time a realm came to life as an eldritch tentacle monster of doom and tried to swallow Ninjago — or something like that, the prisoner keeps getting fairly heated talking about this one, so the finer details are lost — when they’re interrupted by the distant, muffled sound of an explosion. 

Dyne goes tense, grabbing for his blaster. His first thought is that it’s simply Dr. LaRow having a mid-morning experiential mishap, as those are fairly normal.

The screeching alarm that goes off, followed by the distinct sound of screaming, dashes those hopes. 

“Are we under attack?” Dyne mutters faintly. “No one attacks Imperium.”

The prisoner smiles, stretching back in the cell. “Tell that to Kai.”

“Who is Kai?”

“Don’t worry about it,” the prisoner waves his hand. “Just stay back near me, okay? Definitely clear of the doors. And uh, try not to look like you had a big part in this.”

“But I did have a big part of this,” Dyne says, weakly.

The prisoner shrugs. “Those snack bars were killer. You can have a pass.”

“I don’t think I—”

“You sneaking, underhanded little animal!”

Dr. LaRow bursts into the lab, glasses askew and hair a frizzled mess. She jabs her finger toward the prisoner, seething. “You led them right to us!”

“Hey, animal kinda crosses a line,” the prisoner frowns. 

“How did you contact them!” She bangs her fist against the barrier. “How did you let them in!”

“I didn’t do anything,” the prisoner says. “I’ve been sitting here, nice and behaved, in this stupid cell.”

“Then how—”

Another explosion rocks the building, this one much closer. 

The prisoner cups his chin in his hand, grinning at Dr. LaRow. “Say, when you were doing all that research on me,” he says. “You didn’t happen to dig any deeper into the other, highly powerful ninja, did you?”

“Of course I did,” she snaps. “And I’ll be sure to drain them dry once I’ve disposed of you.”

“Uh-huh.” The prisoner looks entirely unconcerned. “You didn’t study enough, I guess.” 

The doors slide open with a hiss, and an Imperium guard enters the lab. 

A completely normal event on any given day, save for several noticeable things. For starters, there’s no reason for a guard of that level to be entering the cell area, unless Dr. LaRow had signaled an emergency — which is most certainly happening outside the lab, but not inside it.

That, or Dyne’s being replaced. Which he’s heard nothing about.

For another, the guard moves with far more purpose than any other guard he’s seen, taking decisive strides toward them with an intensity that rings alarm bells in Dyne’s head.

And for a final thing, with little decorum, the guard proceeds to freeze the doors shut solid, freeze the security cameras, and freeze Dr. LaRow’s feet firmly to the ground. 

In a panic, Dyne brings his blaster up, only to be halted by a sharp look from the prisoner. 

“Don’t,” he says. “You’ll lose.” 

As the guard shimmers, the black and golds of the Imperium armor melting away to reveal the snow white of a ninja gi, Dyne drops his blaster and takes a step back. 

He enjoys living immensely. That’s all. 

“Zane,” the prisoner breathes, his expression collapsing in relief. 

“I apologize for the delay,” the white ninja says, his own face creased in worry as he maneuvers past a frothing Dr. LaRow, who’s tugging furiously at her frozen shoes. “We were waylaid by Imperium’s forces.”

The prisoner shakes his head. “Is everyone alright?”

“That is a far better question for you,” the white ninja says, tapping something on the control pad. The golden barrier sparks, then erodes entirely away. “But no one was harmed. I simply determined that I alone would be most efficient choice to rescue you, as any efforts from Kai or Nya were likely to end in significant attention and potential loss of life.”

The prisoner stumbles forward the minute the barrier vanishes, all but collapsing against the white ninja, who moves even quicker to catch him. 

“Watch out, the floor in there’s Vengestone,” he mutters. 

“Your head is bleeding.” The white ninja’s hand flutters at the prisoner’s temple, his other hand wrapped firmly around his back.  

“S’not that bad.”

“You’re severely exhausted and your blood sugar levels are alarmingly low,” the ninja continues, voice growing colder. 

“Zane.”

“You’ve bitten through your lip again. And—”

“Zane. Not here.”

There’s a tight sigh. 

“You are also in dire need of a shower.”

“Rude,” the prisoner scowls. “You try living in a cage and coming out with great hair.”

 “—why haven’t you shot them already, you useless imbecile—!”

Dyne takes a leaf from the ninja’s book and tunes Dr. LaRow out entirely. 

“Um, I don’t mean to interrupt,” he says, quietly. “But we should probably move if the building’s exploding?”

“The building is in no danger,” the white ninja says, still fussing over the prisoner’s head. “We would never put Lloyd’s safety at risk like that.”

“Remember that next training session,” the prisoner snorts. “I’m guessing the explosions are Kai?”

“He’s incinerating their forces in what could be generously called a diversion,” the white ninja says, lips twitching. “Arin and Sora were enthusiastic about helping.”

“Of course they were.” 

 The prisoner pulls back, wobbling briefly on his feet as he brushes imaginary dirt from his gi and stretches. 

“Don’t hurt that one,” he nods in Dyne’s direction. “He’s pretty chill.”

The white ninja’s glare could freeze him dead. “He was guarding you. He helped them torture you.”

“That’s a little dramatic,” the prisoner frowns. “They were just trying to drain my power again.”

“Which still counts as torture.”

“Technically, it’s like, wildly unethical capitalism?”

 Their conversation is interrupted as a wrench comes hurtling toward their heads. The white ninja bats it away as if it were a mere fly. 

Dr. LaRow, now down her shoes and having made a mad dash for the elevator, looks possibly more furious than the time an intern spilled coffee on her favorite lab coat. 

The transparent elevator doors slide closed just in time to block the sharp projectile of ice that would’ve likely taken her head off. 

“You know what? Good riddance,” Dr. LaRow spits, already keying in the security code. “That thing isn’t worth the trouble.”

The white ninja’s expression turns flat. “That thing has a name, and he happens to be worth far more than—”

“Zane,” the prisoner murmurs. 

The white ninja cuts off with a huff. The ice forming at his hand sputters out as the elevator drops, taking Dr. LaRow with it. 

“Kai instructed me to punch the face in of whoever took your captive,” he says, disappointed. “I would’ve liked to fulfill that particular request.”

 “I’m sure we’ll get another chance.” The prisoner — now a prisoner no longer, come to think of it — turns to stare at Dyne with too-green eyes, and he feels a bit as if someone’s drilling through his head again. 

“My name, by the way,” he says. “Is Lloyd.”

Raisin a trembling hand, he waves, replying, “Dyne.”

Lloyd’s mouth pulls in a half-smile, then he jerks his head. “I’d clear out if I were you,” he says. “I don’t think LaRow’s caught up on what happens when you use energy that’s heavily Oni-contaminated in a system built for dragons.”

Dyne blinks. The white ninja looks concerned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, considering you’re looking at power from two totally opposite beings who exist to fight each other—”

“That was not what I meant, I was referring to the implications they actually drained your energy successfully, which should not be—”

“—if you try to use both energies at once, I don’t think it’s gonna—”

The lights flicker. Before any of them can react, the room rocks dangerously, sending Dyne sprawling as an explosion goes off with a shattering screech a few rooms over. 

“—turn out too well,” Lloyd finishes, weakly. 

_____

In the end, Dyne finds himself following Lloyd and the other ninja out of the labs. He then quickly finds himself socked in the face by a grappling hook, and narrowly avoiding the furious fists of a pink-haired girl that looks vaguely familiar.

“I got him! Did’ja see that?”

“Lemme go, we’ve gotta avenge Lloyd—”

“Lloyd requested that he not be harmed, Sora,” the white ninja sighs, holding back the seething girl. 

“That was a nice hit, though,” Lloyd says, smiling at the dark-haired boy responsible for the bruise forming on Dyne’s face. “You’re getting better at quick reactions.”

The boy’s smile dims as he takes in the now-spectacular mess of green and yellow bruising on Lloyd’s face. 

“Kai’s gonna murder some people, I think.”

“Yeah, on that note,” Lloyd glances at Dyne, giving him a rueful smile. “You probably want to get out of here. For your own good, and all.”

Dyne opens his mouth, only to yelp as something else in the lab behind them explodes. 

“And, uh, sorry for losing you your job?” Lloyd makes a face. “Next time, maybe go for something a little less…”

“Morally corrupt? Totally evil? Cruel and inhumane?”

“He gets it, Sora,” Lloyd sighs. 

“We will be leaving now,” the white ninja cuts in, eyes narrowed on the growing crowd of Imperium guards a street over. “If we’re to pick up Kai and Wyldfyre before we leave, we’d better be quick.”

“Got it.” Lloyd gives Dyne a final, bright smile. “Thanks for the snacks! Good luck on the job hunt.”

The pink-haired girl glares daggers at him, while the dark-haired boy makes a very obvious we’re watching you gesture with his fingers. 

“Enjoy your life,” the white ninja says. “Please keep in mind that you only kept it thanks to Lloyd.”

And with that ominous statement, the ninja take off running. 

As he watches them disappear, Dyne carefully removes his Imperium-issued helmet, and lets out a long, shaky sigh. 

Maybe there’s a job opening in the Realm of Madness. 

He’ll bet they don’t require eight-page resumés there. 

[howtofightwrite]

I'm working on a monster apocalypse story. I've outlined how the monsters emerged and spread throughout the world, as well as the abilities some humans developed to combat them: physical, mental, and therapeutic powers. I also have ideas about the strength and intelligence of the monsters, including some rare unranked ones. The story includes four main powers - Companies, Government, Agencies, and Hunters. However, I'm stuck on how these powers will fight the monsters, how society will evolve, and how to allocate power among the four main groups, especially considering the presence of illegal agencies and hunters.

There's a few slightly goofy things here. Don't take this too harshly, and I suspect this is a translation issue, but “therapeutic,” is probably not the term you wanted. It sounds like, “I hunt monsters through the power of unlicensed chiropractic adjustments.” You may have meant pharmacological powers, as in characters who are chemically enhanced via drugs.

There's also a little bit a weirdness in terminology here, there's three categories of powers (physical, mental, and whatever augmentation you meant), and there's also four categories of powers.

There's a very basic rule of writing, where you don't want to reuse the same word multiple times in a sentence. Except, that also extrapolates out to larger contexts like this. Now, a “power,” can refer to anything from electrical energy, a paranormal ability, or a faction, up to deities. But, if you're going to use a term like this (at least in your world building) you probably want to use it in one specific way. So, for example, you might want to say characters have three broad categories of abilities, and belong to one of four factions.

This kind of word choice can also be very helpful for establishing tone. Consider for a moment how differently it reads if you have a setting “where characters are augmented in different ways, and then work for various powers in their world,” versus one “where characters gain various supernatural abilities and then work for various conspiracies.” Not much changed in the text itself, but the kind of world you're likely to build from that core statement will be radically different.

Now, using the same terms for both is a viable choice, and also has implications. Primarily that those powers derive directly from the powers your characters work for. In that case you would probably want to have a direct 1:1 mapping of abilities to factions. For example, the corporations augment characters (cybernetically, pharmaceutically, or however else), the agencies train psychic powers, the governments provide better tech and support, while the hunters... do something.

Another problem I see up front is a lack of specificity. There are over 200 governments in the world today, with radically different philosophies and approaches to problem solving. So, lumping all of them together under a single banner is peculiar.

Governments depend to be distinct entities from one another, (at least if we're ignoring the specific edge case of puppet governments.) How they interact with one another will reflect their shared and exclusive history with one another. This creates a complex and varied tapestry that is an absolute goldmine for worldbuilding. International relations shapes the world in a way few other things can compete with.

Similarly, “companies,” is incredibly vague. I can make some educated guesses, but it doesn't really tell me anything. Are these private mercenary bands, the military remnants of fallen nations, megacorporations, or something entirely different? Again, the real question you'd need to ask yourself is, “who are these companies?” They're not a monolithic, unified force. In the world before, they were probably in direct competition with each other, and that may have persisted into the apocalypse. Depending on the nature of the story you're trying to tell, is this going to be another case where you have some factions trying to ally with, or use the monsters for themselves? By, “therapeutic,” do you mean that some of these corporations are trying to graft monster parts onto their own loyal subjects, or looking for means to mind control the monsters, turning them into a domesticated combat force, loyal to them?

Agencies is probably one of the hardest to lock down, because that can refer to either a private or public organization. So this is either part of the companies or part of the governments. Unless the intent was to indicate that these were some kind of separate group, like a foundation, or even a guild.

I'm assuming with hunters, you mean freelance hunters. Because, anyone hunting monsters for any of the above groups could be considered, “a hunter,” but this one isn't a big deal.

So what do you do? You probably want to start with the specifics. You might have a general thought, like what you're describing at the top, but ultimately, that's a very brief stepping stone. You'd sketch that out, and then immediately flip over to detailing the various factions and kinds of characters in more depth. You don't necessarily need to have much detail when you're getting started with your story, but you should be able to, at least, name off most of the major factions that you know are important, and how they interact (with each other, and also with the story.)

A lot of world building lives or dies on how well your various factions interact with each other to create a credible gestalt.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

[spaceorphan18]

The Lady Whistledown Papers : 1x01 - A Diamond of the First Water (Part 1)

An Introduction

Dearest Gentle Reader... ;)

Well, okay, looks like there a good handful of you for this idea! Yay!

I did want to preface this with a couple of notes first, though if you want to skip to the show meta, head straight for the 'read more' below...

My intention with this project is to explore the individual stories as well as the romantic relationship between Penelope Featherington (who is my favorite character on the show) and Colin Bridgerton. So, I'll be looking at every episode of the entire show and kind of go through their character arcs with a fine tooth comb. The first two seasons I plan on batching scenes together while Season 3 might end up almost scene by scene because it is so rich and dense with story.

The whole point is that I enjoy meta and media analysis and breaking down stories and looking at stories from every angle possible. I am usually pretty positive, but that doesn't mean even my favorites are not exempt from a critical eye from time to time. And I'm not hesitant to explore character, story, and production flaws when discussing things. I do, however, try to remain respectful.

While this is primarily Pen and Colin focused, I'll probably still end up opinioning on other things I like as well (and do have respect for other characters and ships on the show).

The only book I've read is The Duke and I. I don't plan on doing any book to tv analysis, but I do hope to get through Romancing Mister Bridgerton before I get to Season 3 so I can point out Easter Eggs.

I'm also no historical scholar. So, probably won't be doing any kind of historical analysis either. Sorry.

I'm a multi-fandom blog, and have lots of projects I'm working on, so I plan on rotating through them. Plus, I have a full time job and family and friends, which means please be patient as I work on the project. It's a labor of love! But maybe a slower one. <3

Not here to discuss the actors', creators', crew, etc's personal lives. While I may put in a tiny BTS tidbit I've picked up, I have no intention or desire to talk about anything but the story.

I always enjoy talking with you guys about things, my meta is only one interpretation of what's going on, and I'm always open to discussions! However, I block or ignore any kind of wank, so please be civil. :)

Tag : the lady whistledown papers (in case you want to follow along or black list it away)

Okay, let's dig into some meta!!

Episode 1 : A Diamond of the First Water (Part 1)

So, it may be something that's easily forgotten or overlooked, but the very first thing we hear when we open the show is Lady Whistledown's voice -- which of course, is really Penelope. Since it's the delightful Julie Andrews doing the voice, it doesn't really feel like it's an 18yo girl's commentary about life in the rich part of London society in the early 1800s, but here we are. It's all done to build a bit of mystery around Lady Whistledown.

But what I think is more fascinating is the fact that the show opens -- not with the Bridgertons but the Featheringtons. They are our starting point. They are our dysfunctional family unit that we may closer resemble in our own lives that we get to peek in on before heading over to the esteemed, charming, and seemingly perfect Bridgertons.

The Bridgertons might be the protagonists of the show -- but Lady Whistledown and (by extension) Penelope Featherington is our framing device. She sets up the world, gives us the expository layout of the land and gives us an insight into the world. So it makes sense that we're starting in Penelope's home -- the person, like the audience, who gets to look into the Bridgerton home, but not actually be a part of it (yet).

When we open, we get a great introduction to the Featheringtons, and in a quick few shots - learn a lot about of them.

First of all, the narration -- while I'm not going to take note of every single narration throughout the whole show, it is important to remember that it's Penelope who is ultimately speaking. And when we open the show -- the first thing she does is blast her own family.

Why? Because it's her only way to push back. Look at what's happening in this scene? Prudence is being forced into the tightest corset ever imaginable as Penelope (and Phillipa) look on in horror. Penelope is still young (she is 18yo) and is being thrust into the market earlier than she wants so that her mother can have all of her daughters out in society at the same time.

Unlike what we'll find over at the Bridgerton family household, the Featheringtons are ruled by a seemingly iron fisted mother who only wants her daughters to marry rich so she can retain her lifestyle and place in society while her father is uninterested in anything other than himself.

Later in season 3, she'll mention that this particular issue is her first issue. So, it's no surprise that she starts writing just as she's coming into society. It's her way of coping and her way of expressing herself. But, I'll also remind everyone, while she is incredibly savvy at her craft, she's also still so young, and not entirely aware of the power she's going to wield.

As for Pen herself -- she's genuinely concerned about her older sister. We don't get a sense of their dynamic yet, but at least we get to see Penelope's kind hearted nature. Prudence looks like she's being down right tortured by her 'tasteless, tactless' mama. And nothing about this is appealing to Penelope.

(As an aside -- this also sets up a couple of things for the show -- for one, throwing us into the historical nature of the show, as well as adding a slight bit of comedy to the over-the-topness of Portia's insistence. The show is telling us that, yeah, there are crude and unpleasant things going on, but we're not taking ourselves too seriously, so neither should you.)

Next, we shift over to the Bridgerton household, but I want to point out something first... Notice how the Featherington door knocker from earlier was much more adorned and intricate? The Featheringtons are more concerned with status and money and appearing as if they're better off than they really are, while the Bridgertons don't need nor want to show off in the same way. It's a neat little detail.

Also, the bee imagery for the Bridgertons always is amusing. Symbol of death there ;) In case you were wondering - the Featherington symbol is the butterfly.

So, it's important to note that the Featheringtons are the next door neighbors of the Bridgertons, and it's of no surprise that Penelope would, after disparaging her own family, turn her attention to the family that has captivated her most of her life.

Okay, I kind of love these paintings as an introduction to the Bridgertons. (Are there ones for Gregory and Hyacinth?) I think it's a fun touch to the whole historical setting of the show. And it makes them look as if they're these frozen, idyllic pictures and who are not exactly real. Which is great when combined with the Lady Whistledown dialogue going on how wonderfully attractive they are - because it sets us just slightly apart from them.

Like I said above - Penelope is on the outside, and as we move in, so are we, but we get to finally move in to see real people behind the paintings. (Also - omg, the look on Eloise's face is priceless and I love it)

Also. A+ casting, guys. I really believe they're all related. ;)

I also love the juxtaposition that when we first hear the Bridgertons talking, unlike their perfect, picture-esque counterparts in the paintings, we get Eloise complaining. (Look, I love Eloise a lot -- and she's the third in this crazy triangle, so we'll be talking a bit about her, too.) We also get a bit of chaos as the camera descends the stairs, with Gregory running around them and the banter between the sisters.

It's all great, quick character set up as each of the Bridgerton siblings gets a little beat in this sequence.

And... we get our first glimpse at Colin!

And here's the thing about Colin. He's the third son. Anthony may not be around at the very moment, but he's very much a father figure to a lot of them and is in a different place being the oldest and actual Lord of the Estate. His role is much different. And then there's Benedict - who is that second in command while Anthony is away. Benedict, though is the artsy one and the experimental one and is a bit more aloof in nature. Which brings us to Colin... Who doesn't have the same set in stone sense of purpose Anthony does nor the happiness of just floating through life the way Benedict does.

And so, this scene has a couple of tidbits to kind of illustrate his place in this huge household. He's says he'll go get Daphne (who is currently hiding out in her room, and whom everyone has been arguing about). Colin does like having purpose, and does like to help whenever he can.

And then there's his banter with Benedict about how he's better liked by Daphne than him. It's a great little moment, not only the show again allowing to us to know that we should not be taking this historical show too seriously, not only showing us the beloved sibling antics (which -- i really love all the sibling dynamics in this show), but also showing that Colin has a bit of a cheeky side, and isn't afraid to bring a bit a levity to the situation when he can.

Also, a tiny tidbit in relation to the book, Colin and Daphne (being close in age) are rather close in the book. We don't necessarily see it in the show due to the nature of wanting to highlight Anthony more, but I feel like these lines are a little nod to that, too.

Of course, then, Eloise screams at the top of her lungs, which is a moment I still laugh at. I love that while Benedict's jaw is dropped, Colin is entirely amused by her, as I'm sure she livens the entire household up.

We get both households coming out of their houses, and we get this sweet little moment where we see that, not only are they neighbors, but Penelope and Eloise know each other and are friends.

I love that Penelope is so overjoyed to be looking over to the Bridgertons that she kind of freezes in excitement and has to be ushered along.

Also as the camera pulls back, we see Eloise reading a Lady Whistledown pamphlet! The first time we see someone do so!

You guys remember Disney's Sleeping Beauty? There's a moment when they enter the castle the three good fairies are announced. The dude who announces the Featherington sisters reminds me of that -- introducing Flora, Fauna, and Merriweather! (Don't even come at me, it's my favorite Disney movie)

Anyway... we get LW's narration that this is a pivotal moment for London society at the time -- when the girls are presented to the Queen and enter the marriage mart. Basically, it's a coming of age for young women. And while Prudence might have the most embarrassing moment by fainting (I mean - who's to blame her, really) Penelope looks so awkward going out there -- before her time, really not emotionally ready, and just not graceful in the way that the other girls, including even her sisters, just are.

Okay, so it's not really our first Polin moment, but there is a pseudo moment buried in here.

But first - I want to acknowledge that Penelope, feeling out of place, and at ill-ease with her surroundings, throws a glance over to Eloise. I love Eloise's truly perplexed look as she watches her friend go through something that neither of them really want -- as if trying to grapple how any of this is real. Penelope and Eloise's bond is incredibly important to both their characters and the show (and is something I enjoy as much as I love all the Polin).

As for Colin standing over there in the corner... No, there's not really anything to pull out here. But! There is going to be a moment in season 3, when Colin is writing in his journal, where it's clear that he's thinking about this moment, and describing watching her as she heads towards the queen. It's a cute callback to this moment, and even if we don't really see it -- it's still there. He's still noticing her, even if it's very, very subtly.

LW continues her narration about how important the Queen's opinion is of the ladies of society, and how important it is to make a good impression. But fascinatingly, Penelope is too busy looking at the ceilings and being in awe of her surroundings to really take notice of what the Queen is doing. She's a bit, understandably, shocked. (and another great comedic moment as Portia kind of knocks her back into focusing.)

It's great for setting the atmosphere of the show, but also allowing us, through Penelope, to take in our surroundings and be in awe of what we're witnessing.

It's also, I'll add, to be an awkward contrast to when Daphne comes in and is completely flawless in her entrance. Penelope is our side character. She's not our main character. And main characters are supposed to have a level of perfection to them. (Or so we're been accustomed to believe.) I think one thing I'm happy to see on the show is that, while we're still going to get a lot of romance story tropes, the show does try to dismantle a few of the stereotypes as we go along.

Also, two quick smaller notes... we don't really get to see Colin's reaction to Daphne -- Anthony and the sister are too in the way, and he doesn't have much of a discernable reaction when we do see him. And, the narration makes note that Daphne is going to burn quickly, which honestly made me laugh a little.

And.... that takes us up to the credits! Which is where I'll be stopping for now. Since this is the first episode and an introduction to the world, there's actually lot of both Penelope and Colin in it, so there's a lot to go through... stay tuned ;)

[seeker-of-stories19]

One I thing I have personally really appreciated about Bridgerton is seeing Violet interacting with her children in different ways and being portrayed differently in each season. I don’t mean for this to be a super negative post about her just that I think people tend to ignore the real disparities in how parents treat different children and usually when it is brought up it’s minimized to ‘having a favorite.’

But there’s so much depth in Bridgertons portrayal of Violets relationships with her individual children and how much they are affected deeply by society, trauma, her personal feelings etc. Parents are genuinely influenced by these things and it is unfortunately projected differently onto different kids, whether that is because of outside forces or clashing personalities or something else entirely it’s often glossed over or handled poorly in media.

Coming from a loving family doesn’t necessarily say much about what someone went through growing up and often love is only a small part of the equation. Despite Violet loving all her children they have had very different lives and experiences related to her parenting and you can clearly see that with each one of them.

First you have Daphne who is generally taken with the whole idea of being a debutante and the idea of romance which is very relatable to Violets character and their relationship (from what I remember) paints a generally idyllic picture of the family.

Then you have Anthony who is at the other end of the spectrum entirely, he has gone through extreme trauma and been neglected, abandoned, and parentified to an intense degree. We see him struggle with poor self esteem, anxiety, and imposter syndrome as he tries to step up during the worst time of his life. He has to bear the weight of Violets grief as well as his own and raise his siblings and handle the estate meaning that he has had an incredibly different parental relationship with her.

Benedict and Colin both seem to receive some light chastisement and a bit of meddling from Violet about their choices and finding a match but are generally not bothered by it and both seem to be relatively content in their relationships with her which again is very different to what some of the siblings experience.

Eloise also struggles with her relationship with Violet, albeit in a very different way to Anthony and for very different reasons, but it’s coming from a place of not wanting to disappoint Violet while also not wanting to be someone she’s not. I think Violet generally handles this as well as she’s able within the confines of the time period and despite hurting Eloise she seems to be coming from a place of trying to help her find her place within a framework that already exists but still in a way that’s authentic.

Francesca also seems to have a primarily positive relationship with Violet but there is some pain surrounding their differences and how Violet and her siblings fail to understand her or meet her where she is at, leaving her as the outlier of her family and struggling with loneliness because of it.

I don’t think I’ve seen enough with Gregory and Hyacinth to see get a very good idea of those relationships but they seem happy and content, they also haven’t really gone through the trauma of losing a parent the way their siblings have which was a very pivotal moment for the rest of the family. Whereas Violet and Anthony are the only parents they ever really know.

The point of all of this is just that I think this is so important to the storylines and really lends the Bridgerton family a lot of depth that makes them much more realistic together and individually compared to how families usually work. The siblings are different people who all have very different relationships with their mother and are treated in observably different ways, for better or for worse, and from my personal experience this is much more realistic than the average dynamics portrayed on TV.

[psychiccent]

The Elephant in The Room: Frederica

I almost made this as a post for Shinkane week but wanted to keep the attention primarily on my fav Psycho couple. The Frederica/Kogami situation might be worrisome for some shippers, but I absolutely ADORE watching the interactions play out between these two characters. When analyzing, we can spot key differences in how both relationships are handled/developed by our PP Overlords.

It is safe to say that Frederica harbors an attraction for Ko... THAT aspect of the story, the writers have made no secret of. Poor Tenzing had to witness Frede pull out the big guns in their initial meeting, noting the arch of Frede's back/chest as she bent forward to interact with Ko. There is even a scene in the Sinners novelization wherein Frederica sets the mood for SOMETHING to happen between them using body language and a suggestive tone. During this scene, we learn something vital about the current dynamic that exists between these two: The attraction felt here is running on a one-way street, with no reciprocation in sight from Ko. What DOES Kogami end up doing in this situation? An obviously attractive woman, neutral in standing for now, is exhibiting a keen interest in getting closer to you. It's an easy way for the writers to establish the potential for chemistry and yet... Deciding that he doesn't know WHAT to make of all that Frederica is silently offering, Ko settles for simply ignoring the obvious and the scene ends shortly after. I believe this serves as another callback to Ko not being a casual fling type of guy. These interactions (and many others) help reinforce the idea that Kogami is not a man easily swayed by traditional beauty standards, despite the man's knack for letting his instincts reign supreme in most situations.

That scene was a bit of a missed opportunity, don't you think? There is another moment wherein Ko introduces Frede as someone from his home country, and we have another male gaze in the room posed to appreciate the obvious appeal that Frede brings to the table. In this scene, writers could have taken it a tiny step further (if this was truly their intent to establish SOMETHING here) and have the merc outright assume that Frede was Ko's woman. But no such conclusions were drawn, no implications of Ko enjoying his newfound company or missing home...nada. The same can't be said for Akane and Ko, whom have enemies nicknaming Akane 'JULIET' of all things, Shion sounding the alarm anytime those two are together, or the fact that Gino's reactions to their (Akane and Ko's) ACTIONS speaks volumes.

Kogami strikes me as a man with a desire for both understanding AND intimacy when it comes to potential partners, and the life Ko has led so far has not been ideal for cultivating that kind of love/connection. We see, through Ko and Frede's interactions that they function well as a unit/team but are still learning about one another. Whatever level of intimacy/understanding that Ko needs to share with his potential love interest is (whoever that may be *COUGHAKANECOUGH*), Frede is a far cry from being able to qualify in that particular category. Frede's dynamic with Kogami is, in my opinion, what a proper Inspector/Enforcer relationship SHOULD have been like between Ko and Akane (with less emphasis on the obvious attraction undertones, of course) and when looking at these two relationships from that perspective, the parallels we can observe are very telling.

I also can't help but mention that in supplementary PP content (I believe it was a game?) , it is stated that Ko is not a fan of having people/girls hanging off of, or otherwise pining over him... they even joke and say that it's the other way around and Akane is shocked to discover this "side" of Ko. I will take that with a grain of salt, but it certainly checks out with what we have seen so far, don't ya think? Is it impossible for Kogami and Frederica to wind up together? of course not, anything can happen! But color me surprised if that is the direction the writers decide to take.

[autumnmobile12]

Ambush Sim:  Touya and Hawks’ Relationship

I don’t want to call it complicated; how I write them is they’re both relatively straightforward with each other, but there is a distinct divide in how Hawks views Endeavor the hero vs how Touya views Enji his father.  That's not a part of their dynamic they can ignore, so this is the only way I can write this ship with any sense that it's a healthy one:

Hawks doesn’t know the full story and is also aware he can’t just pry it out of Touya, but he can tell with the father-son interactions that something is wrong and he has the understanding that whatever is causing Touya’s animosity is probably warranted. (He has heard the rumors other Pros share about Endeavor, has uneasily discounted them for lack of evidence and the fact none of the family members ever came forward, and has since come to the conclusion this stance may be naïvely optimistic.)  The same is true of Touya knowing Hawks has a reason to admire the hero but not knowing exactly what that reason is.  He has three main reasons for keeping silent about what his father did:

It is rooted in the years he’s already spent keeping silent in order to avoid the fallout should their family’s story go public.

It is also a matter of compassion.  He is not vindictive enough in this AU to completely ruin Hawks’ perception of his childhood hero, and this also a stance he took with his piano students.  True, there is the debate on whether or not it is honorable or even healthy to withhold that kind of information, especially when the likely response to finding that out is, ‘Wow, I wish you’d told me sooner.’  But this is the razor line everyone in this family walks in regards to their patriarch.

He's made this compromise with his sister; he figures he can do it with his partner.

So the result is Touya and Hawks have an unspoken and very temporary compromise of shelving the Endeavor issue.

They both know this is eventually going to be a discussion that can’t be avoided.

...

One thing I've noticed while writing, though, is their relationship very closely resembles these two:

And I'm pretty sure that's subconscious, but it's the personalities that match up for me.

Shinra is a more comedic character, but he's the character type you don't know to take seriously until they do something extreme and worth your undivided attention. Shinra will be joking and laughing with Celty in one scene, the next he'll be threatening a guy with a scalpel.

In the same manner, Hawks is similar. Trickster/goofball one moment, legitimately threatening the next.

Celty is also a bit of a silly character when you get down to it. In spite of being a serious and levelheaded fairy creature who's calling is to retrieve the souls of the dead and dying...she's clumsy, she misplaces things, she gets flustered, she's afraid of aliens to the point cheesy 80s sci-fi horror films scare her, and she's a terrible liar. What makes her comparable to Touya, however, is the theme of chasing something seemingly unattainable. Celty is a headless horsewoman whose head was stolen from her and she lost centuries of memories with it.

She could survive without her head, but she couldn't live without it.

And then there's Touya chasing after his father's recognition, surviving without it, and slowly learning to live without it in the Ambush Sim AU.

So in spite of the toxic elements of their relationship (and there are a few,) the way Shinra and Celty come together and balance out the bad with the good where it otherwise shouldn't happen...is adorable in all the wrong and right ways.

These two in the Ambush Sim AU are very slow-burn.

Hawks makes the slow-burn a writing requirement because of the demisexual headcanon I gave him. Putting it in the simplest terms, demisexuality is primarily needing an emotional connection first and foremost, and then there’s Touya who’s determined to keep everything emotional locked down due to past trauma. So the thought process is, 'That's a major incompatibility hurdle. Is that even gonna work?'

It's definitely one of the more challenging ship dynamics I've worked with, but after playing with the Trepha ship in the Castlevania fandom for the past couple years, I think I've got a good grasp of how to do it without it coming off as unnatural or toxic. In any case, it is an interesting ship to explore and I hope to do more with it in this AU because Touya and Hawks are very much black cat and golden retriever energy and I love that.

...

“So did you want me to cook or are you good with airport food?”

“Are you kidding me,”  Hawks laughed as he followed him.  “With how I was eating in America, I feel like I should fast for a week.  So many carbs.”

“I hear they have a good cultural variety.”

“Oh yeah, my first day there, I had barbeque pirozhki for lunch.  I don’t quite know what that is, but it was delicious.”

“I’ll find you a recipe then.”

“Really?”  He beamed at his turned back.  “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah.”  Touya pulled out his phone.  “How do you spell that?

[emo-trash101]

Hello hello my darling!! (/P)

How are you,good? I hope you are!

I was scrolling through for some hazbin-writing blogs and saw that you were,but didn't have any works yet!

"preposterous!" I told myself! "Such a charming blog without any writing? Allow me!"

And here I am! Nina or Weewoo,you may call me!

Now that my big flamboyant intro is done (i do this all the time for my fun,don't mind it-),May you indulge me in some nice platonic headcanons? (If you do those! If not,a single oneshot would be swell!!)

You see,the self-proclaimed platonic asker is thirsty for some platonic!

Anyways,you're probably getting bored,so allow me!

May I please have a platonic! Vox/Husk/Alastor/Lucifer/ anyone you wish to write for (I honestly don't mind anyone,just pick peoplef from Hazbin you feel you want to write for! You can put as many as you want!) with a gn!child!reader (my favorite/p) that's really sweet (even a bit of a pushover) but has a really bad argument with their parent (the characters) for x reason (maybe because the child is too kind?) and runs away for some air,but later,as the characters were looking for them because they're worried or we're forced to (ahem,Vox and Alastor,AHEM) the character finds them all injured and crying somewhere because it's hell and there are bad people there? How would the characters react? Would they do something?

I think that's all for me!

I hope you enjoy writing this dearie! Don't forget to drink,eat and have rest!

Stay proud darling!

-Nina <33

Omg, I really hope you end up enjoying this! I actually really like this idea, and I live for platonic relationships. Also! Feel free to request whenever, I really need something to do with my life 😭

Vox, Husk, Alastor and Lucifer x Child! Reader

THIS IS STRICTLY PLATONIC AND SHOULD ONLY BE TAKEN AS SUCH

Pronouns: Second person, gender neutral

Tw: Arguing, Vox and Alastor (Yes they are warnings), general Hazbin Hotel-ness

Vox -

- In all honesty, I'm so sorry you ended up with this man 😭

- But (as many of us know) he is not a nice person, if anything he's more so the opposite. He would probably take away your toys just to see you cry.

- However, he is very good at faking it, which makes him a very confusing person to be around.

- The argument most likely starts because you end up being too sweet and it ends up pissing him off. He'd probably try to be passive aggressive or ignore it until it makes him so mad he just yells.

- He seems like the kind of guy to be like "Well thats how I was raised." And just see nothing wrong with it. But after seeing you be so upset after the argument, a small part of his almost nonexistent humanity feels bad.

- Considering how busy he is, he probably wouldn't notice you were missing for a good while. Even after he does, he doesn't go after you himself, he sends one of his workers to get you.

- Once he does find you injured, he's undoubtedly mad. Not exactly because he cares too much for your wellbeing, but because he considers you a pet of some sort, and people should know better than to hurt his pet.

- Doesn't really learn much from the experience, however does avoid bringing up the topic of you being too kind simply because another argument like that could provide similar outcomes

- In all, probably the worst of them all generally. (Can you tell who my least favorite is?)

Husk -

- Honestly, he's not that bad of a caretaker, and it's primarily because he has strong morals and tries to teach you that as well.

- However, because of that, he views your kindness as a kind of weakness that needs to be fixed. Which is almost exactly what he tries to do.

- He attempts several times to make you "stronger" and less kind to protect you. He obviously has good intentions but goes the wrong way about it.

- This obviously results in an argument where he refuses to admit that he was incorrect which leads you to try and chill yourself out by going on a walk. He would probably be too heated to even really care about you walking out. That is until later.

- After you eventually don't come back for awhile he does become anxious, but he knows that he taught you to take care of yourself and that you'll be fine.

- Once you do come back he feels hella guilty, nit only for letting you walk away, but arguing with you in general. He resorts to trying to help clean your wounds and provide you with the best comfort he can (which honestly is not a lot but it's the thought that counts)

- He does let up on you having to be less nice, it does get brought up ever so often, but after a few minutes he just lets it go.

Alastor -

- This man is a little special brained, as in he is extremely apathetic to the point where he doesn't comprehend you being kind aside from it being for ulterior motives.

- Which honestly makes sense if you think about how he acts, so it's not like it's a baseless accusation. But after he's taken you under his wing and is trying to teach you he feels almost undermined by you constantly being kind.

- This obviously turns into an argument (more like you being defensive and him just accusing), and you eventually give up and go on a walk.

- He considers this an admission of guilt and doesn't go after you or anything and just lets you do your own thing until you apologize to him.

- When you do eventually show back up to the hotel, he does tend to your wounds, but he approaches you with condescension until you eventually apologize purely out of exhaustion.

- He doesn't really feel any guilt towards it, and will definitely ice you out until you stop being so "manipulative".

Lucifer -

- Now Lucifer himself is at least a people pleaser, so he understands the feeling and actions that you do take.

- However, having seen his daughter take similar strides that he had in the sense of caring for others, he ends up worrying about you being used for others benefit, especially in a place like hell.

- This kinda causes him to try and course correct aggressively, deciding that if he were to act more cold it would rub off on you and work (surprise surprise, it didn't).

- It just turns into you getting upset and while trying to have a serious conversation about the issues (or as serious a discussion that a child can have), he tries to keep up the cold facade.

- This just upsets you more and you end up going on a walk to clear your mind, and that makes him feel terrible.

- He contemplates running after you but decides that it's for the best, it could even help you with being so kind.

- Well that whole thought process changes once you don't come back for too long. He almost turns the entirety of hell upside down just to find you.

- He finds you just as your assaulters are leaving, and let's just say they don't leave in one singular piece.

- After that the guilt almost eats him alive. He feels terrible for not only letting this happen to you, but that he also caused this whole mess. He takes you back to your home and helps clean your wounds (He 100% uses hello kitty bandages).

- He tries reaching out to other people to try and find better ways to teach you more about boundaries and everything just to keep you safe, and takes almost all the advice to heart.

This took less time than I anticipated, but I feel like it turned out good nonetheless. I hope you enjoyed it and have an astounding day!

[cannibal-wings]

So... that all happened.

In an effort not to drown in current events, here's some WIP Wed for You Pay the Cost. This is all extremely rough. And I'm talking extremely here. A lot of this will get changed as I finish out the scene and edit it. I just wanted to share something. Gotta head to work now, but enjoy.

Leon was the last one to go through the door, he ducked under the frame and moved his tail all the way inside before closing the door behind him. He watched Luis set a small backpack down on the couch and begin to go through it.

“You ok?” Ashley asked him. She caught the way he seemed to hover uncomfortably near the door.

“Yeah,” he said, “I’m good.” Neither of them were sure if that was the truth. He stepped a bit further into the room and shrugged his rifle and shotgun off his back. Leon didn’t really know what to do with himself.

Luckily Luis saved him the trouble by turning his attention to him. “Ok,” he started with, “lets give you a quick lookover, Big Guy.”

Leon raised an eyebrow and rubbed his two bottom pedipalps together. “A lookover? For what?”

Luis stepped closer to him and said, “Your product line has a high failure rate, as far as mutations go.”

“Product line?” Leon frowned and stepped back.

Ashley asked, “So you know what he is?”

“Well, now that I’ve seen the full mutation, yes. I had a guess before, but seeing the whole thing in front of me, there’s only one product type it could be. Verdugo.”

“Ver-what now?”

“It means executioner, but I think a more fitting title should have “Guardian” or “Protector” even “Body Guard” would have gotten the product’s purpose through more clearly.” Luis closed the gap between himself and Leon once more. “They were created to be soldiers but Saddler quickly abandoned that idea after learning their abysmal survival rate through production. The research teams shifted focus and fine tuned the serum, more survived but not in the numbers he was looking for. Instead of scrapping the project, it was re-pitched as a line of personal body guards.”

Leon ignored most of that. “So you think I’m going to die?”

Luis shook his head. “Most likely not. You survived the mutation process, but I’d like to double check.” He reached up for Leon’s face and said, “Bend down for me, ok?” When Leon hesitated he added, “It’s best we get this done now, yeah?” Leon relented and Luis reached up to touch the outer jaws. Instantly Leon flinched back away. “Leon,” he said more sternly, “don’t be difficult.”

“I just- is this really necessary?”

“Yes. Now stop being a baby.” This time when he reached for Leon’s mandibles he was less gentle. He pulled him back down and opened them up. “I must remind you, my lab did not work on the Verdugo line, I was primarily a special variant Plaga researcher. However, they made us all sit through the presentations of the other labs, so I know just enough to get you sorted.” Leon kept trying to pull away from his touch, no doubt partly on instinct and partly due to being uncomfortable. And while Luis could sympathize with him, he still needed to check him over. “You mutated quickly and aggressively. The process normally takes a week, sometimes more, and is done in stages, induced with serum injections in increasing doses. Now this,” he manipulated the mandible in his hand, “this isn’t the correct outer jaw that goes with this body plan.”

“Yeah?” Leon wanted to yank it free but he let Luis continue. The other man ran his hand along the inside of it, feeling for something. It was uncomfortable, Leon felt the tip of his tail twitch. “What’s it go to then?”

“Las Plagas,” Luis said bluntly. “I think something interesting happened with you. The Plaga can also cause mutations to the host. The drone types have predictable mutations that follow their life stages. The controller Plaga often have more unique mutations, suited to the individual host. These can be triggered at will or in a life or death situation. Sometimes due to stress as well, or as a trigger from another, stronger Plaga.”

“So you think the Plaga was also trying to make me into a monster?”

“Yes,” he said. “But it got overridden by the Verdugo mutagen. The jaws and extra arms are not from the Verdugo mutagen. If I had to guess, they are from the Plaga.”

“But he’s done now, right?” Ashley asked. “No more changes?”

“Theoretically, yes, but-”

“There’s always a but,” Leon said with an eyeroll.

“But until we get the Plaga out of you, it could try to mutate your Verdugo form. Unlikely, since this is such a strong mutation, but it could happen.” Luis finished feeling around one side of Leon’s jaw and moved to the other. “Are you in any pain? From the mutation? Anything still hurt?” Leon shook his head. Luis finished pushing on Leon’s jaw lining. Nothing felt inflamed or swollen. “You don’t appear to have venom sacs, I don’t know if you’d consider that good news or not.”

“Wait, I could have had venom sacs?”

“Yeah, the Plaga with this face type can sometimes develop a venomous bite. You’d have a gland back here,” Luis reached in again with his hand and pressed just under his ear, where the skin of the outer jaws fused with his human skin. “But I don’t feel anything. It’s possible it’ll develop later.” He turned his attention to the large fangs at the end of each mandible. “I doubt it though, I don’t see a hole in your fangs for the venom to leave through. In any case, if you feel swelling here,” he pressed again, “or here,” and did the same with his other hand, but on his neck this time, under the human jaws, “it might be the gland coming in. It won’t affect the remains of your human jaws, or at least it shouldn’t, and your spit won’t be venomous. But your outer jaws could deliver a toxin strong enough to bring down an elephant. So exercise caution.”

“Great,” he said unenthusiastically. “What about,” Leon almost hesitated to ask, but he knew if he didn’t do so now, he might never get the chance. “What about acid? The ones I’ve come across can vomit acid.”

“Ooooh, that’s a tough one my friend. That organ is internal and I’d have to open you up to see if its in there. Your cousin species, the Novistadores have acid as well, but your species isn’t often engineered with it.” Luis moved away from Leon’s face and began to run his hands along the various plating on his chest. “I wouldn’t worry about, if you develop it, it’ll be because of the Plaga.”

“And the only way to know would be to open me up and check?”

“Yes.” Luis pressed on one of the plates that sat just below where his diaphragm would be. “Does this hurt when you breath in?” He could feel Leon expand his lungs and his ribcage moved under the carapace.

“No.”

“Good, good. Some issues that were reported with this line had to do with lung capacity and the ability to breath uninterrupted by the carapace.” He continued to move his hands down to his stomach. “Have you had any bowel movements?”

“No. Haven’t really had time.”

“You eaten anything recently?” Leon didn’t want to answer. He clamped his jaws to his face and looked at Ashley. “Leon?” When he looked up it was clear that the question had made him uncomfortable.

Ashley said instead, “Remember when I called you? And I said Leon wasn’t acting like himself?” Luis looked to her then back at Leon and nodded. “Well, when he wasn’t… himself,” she settled on, “he had eaten some of the cultists.”

“Oh.” Luis looked again to Leon who wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I see.” The blood around his jaws had been a giveaway, but he thought that maybe he had only used them in self-defense. “While I wouldn’t suggest your diet become comprised of human flesh, I will say that your guts are designed to process raw foods. Vegetables, fruit, and yes, meat. So eating them won’t have any negative consequences on your health.”

“I’m a fucking monster,” Leon said quietly.

Luis dismissed that with, “You were doing what you were designed to do. Protect Ashley no matter the cost.” When Leon looked at him with an eyebrow raised, he said, “It’s pretty obvious that its her you’re being made to protect. I don’t know if Saddler had you imprinted or if you did that all on your own.”

Ashley asked, “Wait, imprinted? Like with baby animals?”

“Perhaps that was the wrong word, “paired” might have been better. You see the Verdugo line, like I said before, was shifted to become a guardian type weapon. The first few iterations were not biologically bound to the one they were supposed to protect.”

“And now they are?” she asked again.

Luis nodded. “We have two ways of doing it, both involve the use of a Plaga. It’s clear that Leon has a Plaga inside him,” he said and turned over Leon’s arm to show off the dark veins that were still visible in the gaps between his carapace. “Sometimes both parties are infected with a custom made set of paired Plaga, this, along with picking a person close to the one needing the protection, insures the best results post mutation. If the client has the money and Saddler decides they’re worthy, the client will receive a custom Controller Type Plaga. Then it doesn’t matter as much which Verdugo is shipped to them, if it carries a normal Plaga the client will have no issues with commands or its loyalty.”

“And Saddler would do that? Just give someone a Controller Plaga?” Leon snorted. “Doesn’t that seem a little dangerous?”

“No, it’s actually a benefit to him as well. You see his end goal is to control the world with Las Plagas. The more people he infects the better, and if these folks are eager to do so willingly…” Luis trailed off. “It’s not a safety concern for him because Saddler’s Plaga is the strongest we’ve seen. He wouldn’t give out something that could usurp him to some random militant group.”

Luis put a hand on Leon’s back and started to lift and check the various plates. “You have a Plaga but Ashley doesn’t,” he was focused on Leon and didn’t catch the way that she froze up, “but you’ve clearly already paired yourself to her. Your body language gives it away, I’m sure you feel it as well?” Leon nodded. “The instincts that come with the mutation are strong. Incredibly strong. New Verdguo if not previously paired will pair themselves with someone eventually. We normally keep them in solitary until a client buys one for that reason alone. The pre-paired ones are obviously made to order.”  Luis continued, “Once the bond is made its made for life. It cannot be paired again. Of course, that doesn’t mean it can’t serve another, but the biological connection? That’s a one and done deal.”

Leon looked at Ashley who was staring back at him. “What does that mean?” he asked. “For me?”

“Well, you might be switching careers friend. Being separated from the one you’re paired with for long distances and durations will cause immense feelings of anxiety and sometimes violence, if you aren’t brought back together.” Luis asked, “Can you bend forward for me? Like you’re going to touch the ground?”

Without giving it much thought Leon leaned forward and dropped his hands to the floor and stretched. “So that’s it? I’m fucked?”

“Oh I wouldn’t go that far friend. You have options. Control over yourself will come with age. Some of our Verdugo on the market have been around for a couple of years now. They settle pretty easily, at least, that’s what I gather from the reports I’ve read.”

“I’m sorry,” Ashley said, “Leon I’m sorry. I didn’t know this would happen.”

“Neither of us did, not your fault.”

“On the bright side,” Luis said, stepping away, “you are built wonderfully. I’ve never seen such an exceptional specimen. Your body seems to have adapted perfectly to the mutagen, nothing is out of place. Full range of motion, carapace that has a bit of give, everything slots perfectly together, honestly, a perfect example of your species. If the Plaga hadn’t don’t a couple of its own mutations you’d be exemplary.”

“Please,” Leon winced, “please stop talking about me like I’m a product.” He stood back up to his full height.

“My apologies, Leon, but you are. Best shore up with that now instead of later.”

[composeregg]

wanted to join in on that meta post by saying yeah, even if we view joker’s and akechi’s relationship as special compared to the others, akechi is still written under the constraints of p5, and an antagonist to boot. like. vanilla had his confidant as automatic bc (iirc) they thought they couldn’t fit it in properly! which is crazy, even tho the automatic rank ups have an interesting implication (such as, akechi will always be rank 10 by the end no matter what you do). i understand that ppl probably wanted someone to talk sense into the thieves for their unwittingly callous actions, but not by the guy who decided to go thru with his 11/20 plan lol

(this post)

YEAH like, I love Akechi. I adore him. But I have SO many OPINIONS about this mans. like. I'm not going berate anyone for how they write characters, that's the freedom of fandom, but I am going to stand over here with my opinions and contrary thoughts and chitchat about them in my space

I know that very often it is because people want someone to refute what canon has shown us (because canon's writing disagrees with it's desired goals as mentioned in that post). They want someone to go "Look at Joker, look at what's happened to him, don't you care? How risky this was?"

But okay I'm actually going to back up a bit!

(this got long)

What other choice was there for 11/20?

Because the answer is not "they could have taken Akechi in a fight."

The goals of the interrogation room/metaverse plan:

Escape with Joker alive

Trick Shido and the conspiracy into believing Joker has died

and you know? you know? you cannot do that latter bullet point if you just beat up Akechi

So enlighten me. How, exactly, were the thieves supposed to come up with a different plan in under 20 days? One where Joker would live, where the conspiracy would believe he had died, and importantly, one that at that point in time cannot count on Akechi being a turncoat. They have no reason to trust that he would

"Don't you care about how risky this was? There had to have been other ways."

We don't get Shido's name as Akechi's employer here until after the phonecall reporting the death, I believe. They cannot change Shido's heart in time to avert this because they do not have the information. The interrogation room plan, genuinely, was one of the smartest ideas they had. It accomplished exactly what they needed to. These are teens in a life-or-death situation, who notoriously have MANY trust issues with adults for good reason, especially since society is so corrupt that a hitman can easily walk into a police department and assassinate a high-profile criminal and get away with it with help (remember the guard at the door?) The other options are basically "change your identity and flee the country" or "literally actually die" lets be real here!

SO

Akechi, let's be honest with ourselves here, would primarily be pissed off that the thieves got one over on him! And if he is concerned about the lasting trauma of it all, or how risky the plan was, he is seeing this and approaching it from the angle of knowing it worked.

(Better options for sense-talking: Sojiro! Sojiro is right there! Takemi! Iwai! Kawakami! Yoshida! All important responsible adult figures to Joker and at least some of the thieves.)

In my opinion if Akechi wants to snark at the thieves about the plan in any way regarding how much it fucks up Joker and how it was risky, they are more than allowed to fire back shots at him for making it necessary and shooting Joker in the head in the first place.

I think people often use it as a shorthand, to show that Akechi cares about Joker, but also as a way to emphasize the importance of Akechi to Joker (compared to the rest of the thieves). It's easier to ignore the fact that he killed two of the thieves's parents when it comes to Joker being in a relationship with him, as long as it can be shown that he's the one that really cares. That he wouldn't put Joker through something so fucked up with his care (hilarious, laughable, he shot Joker in the head). It separates "Akechi and Joker" from all the phantom thieves in a way.

(Honestly sometimes it feels like ship bashing/character bashing but for ALL the phantom thieves with how intensely some people write it! beyond even the point of exploring Atlus fucking up characterization to pretend to have a blank slate silent protag)

BUT like I said in the post, it also points out a major flaw with convincing players that the rest of the thieves DO care in the game. Because the thieves are never really given a chance to show that. It's implied, and it's clear the game wants you to believe they care, but we don't get scenes addressing specific stuff like this enough.

Joker is confident, and cocky, we see that with that bastard smile in the interrogation room after getting "shot" in those cutscenes. It is genuinely a plan to be proud of, and it hails back to his original persona being Arsène. Arsène, who escaped from prison simply by disguising himself and pretending he had already escaped and put a body double in his place. Arsène, who pulled off a robbery while in jail. Arrogant and self-assured and cocky, the interrogation room plan is genuinely something the likes that would be worthy of Arsène's name.

He can be proud of the plan, and also traumatized by it. But he actively agreed to this plan, probably helped come up with it (where does everyone get the idea that it was Makoto's plan? genuine question). Joker is not a hapless victim of other's whims, he also had agency. So many of the parallels between Joker and Akechi are how they exercise what agency they have while being stripped of traditional power and victimized by society.

Honestly? Honestly? In my personal opinion, having Akechi berate the thieves for the plan is disrespectful to his rivalry with Joker, along with his own characterization.

He holds Joker as his equal. Equal in agency, in skill. If he looks at Joker and says, "why would you go along with such a foolish plan?" if he looks at the thieves and says "why would you ever put your precious leader through this?" he is taking away Joker's agency and choices. One of Akechi's focal points is agency. If he sees Joker as equal in this, and he denies Joker his agency, he is also taking it away from himself.

Akechi's cocktail of emotions regarding the assassination can manifest in so many different ways, and he can translate that to anger at the thieves rather than himself for putting Joker through that, but that would be his emotions regarding himself being misdirected more than anything.

Akechi has too much respect for Joker to deny Joker his agency in a plan that was good enough to fool him.

Respecting agency and admiring a brilliantly crafted plan also doesn't mean ignoring trauma that ocurred from actions taken under duress.

(At least, it doesn't mean that as long as you're not Atlus)

[abiiors]

In Stages

For @alien-princess-v and @nowujustlooklikeanyone who requested similar George fics, so I thought I would combine them into one big piece. I hope you enjoy this :)

Also inspired by “I've been in love with her for ages / And I can't seem to get it right / I fell in love with her in stages / My whole life”

Five times he almost confessed + the one time he finally did

some angst but a happy ending, female reader, alcohol, weed etc.

wc: 6k

For as long as George can remember, he has been a coward. No really, every time he sees you hanging out with Matty and the rest of your friends, he wonders if this is it, if this is the right time. He has never felt so uncharacteristically shy around anybody before. But George feels absolutely tongue-tied when you’re in the room simply existing. 

The house party they’re throwing has taken a bit of a wild turn. Raucous laughter drowns out the sound of music in the room, a playlist that George agonised over for weeks that’s now just being treated as background music. 

‘God, you two are disgusting,’ you’re laughing at Matty and his girlfriend and he watches from a distance as his best friend blushes and slaps away your hand. 

The genuine happiness on all three of your faces makes his heart ache, makes him feel a little like an outsider. Especially since you’re primarily the cause of Matty’s happiness right now; what with you introducing him to the girl he’s now in love with. 

‘Come on, mate,’ Matty waves him over, ‘why are you sulking in the corner?’

He is sulking a bit, that’s true, but he still makes a face when Matty mentions it. 

‘What’s up with you?’ you ask and turn your body to him as soon as he sits down. He is wildly aware of the fact that your knees are touching; his covered in some old jeans, yours bare seeing as how the dress you wear ends around your thighs. And so he is very aware of the fact that he could be touching you if he slightly moved his hand. 

‘Hello?’ you wave your hand in front of his face. ‘Ground control to Major Daniel,’ you speak in a sing-song voice and he laughs a bit at the reference. 

‘Sorry,’ he feels a bit embarrassed for zoning out on you, ‘sorry, it’s been a long day.’

‘Something getting wasted can’t solve?’ you quirk an eyebrow and extend your glass to him. A red solo cup full of cheap beer. A party full of cliches. But he takes a sip of it gratefully and then cringes at the taste. 

‘This is disgusting!’

‘Don’t go all bougie on me now, Daniel. I’ve seen you drink much worse stuff.’ 

He laughs. Because he always laughs when you’re even remotely funny, he can’t help himself. Matty, seemingly bored of the conversation, pulls his girlfriend off his lap and whisks her away to the dance floor. George tries to ignore the pang of longing he feels. How is it so easy for his friend to simply just…ask?

Ask you to set him up with her. 

And then ask her to be his girlfriend. 

And ask her to dance with him; swaying to their own tune in spite of the fast-paced song.  

He looks away, clears his throat for some courage. ‘Let’s go up to the rooftop.’ 

‘Trying to get me all alone? Oooohhh,’ you waggle your eyebrows at him suggestively and he’s suddenly made aware of how tipsy you actually are. He simply rolls his eyes and tries to stop the words from bubbling up. 

Yes, he’s trying to get you all alone. Because he just wants to keep you for himself so he could go to bed with you next to him and wake up with you in his arms and he wouldn’t get irrationally jealous seeing you talking to other men because he would know you’re coming home to him at the end of the day. 

‘Yes, I’m trying to solicit you,’ he replies, hiding his true intentions under sarcasm, ‘now will you come with me?’

So you go, up and up the spiral staircase holding his hand and giggling all the way in anticipation. He suspects it has more to do with the drugs and the alcohol in your system than the fact that he’s funny. He has barely spoken a word tonight without overanalysing it at least ten times. 

‘Are you going to tell me the names of the stars and woo me?’ you sway from side to side, dance away from his grip when he comes any closer. He wonders if it’s a game to you, if you simply like the chase, the thrill of it. And he’s willing to walk to the ends of the earth if all you give him is one sign. 

‘I won’t need to give you astronomy lessons to woo you’ he laughs, tries to keep his tone casual. 

It’s all quiet up here. The sounds of the party downstairs are so muffled, as if you are under some blanket. A space only for the two of you. 

‘My, my George,’ you gasp, ‘are you flirting with me?’

Have been for the past six months, he thinks somewhat bitterly but settles on shaking his head in exasperation. He is, perhaps, slightly tipsier than he thought but he’s not exactly inebriated. So when you grab your hands in his, and try to twirl him around, he simply lets you. 

‘It’s lovely up here,’ you close your eyes for a brief moment and breathe in the fresh air. ‘It’s nice being with you.’

His head spins a bit at the words that have just come out of your mouth. At the way your hands are fisting in his shirt.

If this were a romance movie, he would see a shooting star right about now; crashing, hurtling towards the ground at full speed. He would wish upon it, wish for the girl he’s always wanted. Then you would look at him through your eyelashes, tilt your chin up, perhaps even get on your tiptoes to reach him better. But you wouldn’t have to. Because he would already be there, leaning in and closing the distance between you two. And you would maybe gasp softly and pull him closer still. Unwilling and incapable of pulling away from him. 

Instead, you stumble. 

And instead of the shooting star, it’s his hopes and wishes that come crashing down. 

He’s not drunk but you definitely are. 

‘Alright, then,’ he sighs in resignation. ‘Let’s just sit down before you hurt yourself.’

And right there on the rooftop, with your backs against the wall and your head on his shoulder, he thinks that maybe this is nice. Maybe he can settle for this intimacy for now; having your side pressed against his, softly humming along to the echos of the song downstairs. It’s so out of tune and bad but he still wishes he could bottle up this sound. Keep it only for himself. 

Slowly, the humming stops, replaced by sounds of deep, even breathing. All the courage it took him to bring you up to the rooftop so he could finally kiss you, all of it leaves him in a rush, leaves him weary. So he simply sticks to pressing a lingering kiss on your head. A sweet, chaste, friendly kiss. Just like he always has. 

---------------------------

George’s heart is pounding. And you’re not the reason this time. 

He can’t stop thinking and overthinking all the last-minute changes to the setlist, all the small gaps where he can mess up and derail the whole show. The rest of the guys seem fine. The rest of them are devouring a large pizza as if they haven’t eaten in days. And he can’t bring himself to even think about food. 

‘You look like you’re gonna throw up.’ Your voice jerks him out of yet another mini-spiral. 

How could he forget you were going to watch the show today? Their biggest show yet that Matty was so excited for that he made sure to invite you, personally, three times. 

Not that George doesn’t want you there, he actually really loves it when you cheer on him (and the rest of the band but he’s allowed to indulge in his daydreams a bit) but today it feels like just one more thing that might set him off. Just one more, really important person he could mess up in front of.

‘Everything alright?’ you ask again, hand on his shoulder and urging him to look at you which he simply cannot. He knows what you will see is someone on the brink of losing it. ‘George…talk to me.’

It’s the way you say his name that makes him swallow roughly. ‘’m sorry,’ he mumbles, ‘just a bit nervous.’ He tries his best to give you a reassuring smile but the most he can manage is a shaky and wobbly grimace. ‘We’ve never played a venue this big before. I don’t know why the rest of them aren’t shitting themselves right now.’ 

‘That’s not the case, love,’ you try to reassure but he’s not listening to anything right now. He hasn’t even registered the term of endearment. Instead, he feels himself grow more and more agitated with each passing second. His knee bounces in place, his fingers fidget with one of his bracelets and he tries to control the urge to just scream out loud. 

He’s still going on and on about the setlist change and how he’s not sure of his setup and how he’s going to mess up which is going to make Matty mess up which is going to turn the concert into a shitshow when you move to kneel down in front of him and grab his face in your hands. And that instantly stops him mid-spiral. 

‘Shut up for one second, will you?’ you ask sternly but your hold on his face is gentle. 

‘Make me?’ 

He regrets it as soon as it leaves his mouth. What the fuck was his plan with that one? It’s not like you’re going to kiss him senseless and make him forget about everything for just one moment. This isn’t a movie. 

And the way your eyes go wide and your breathing gets uneven is proof of that. 

‘Sorry,’ he mumbles quickly and stands up to put some distance between you, ‘sorry, don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t mean it like that.’ He speaks in a rush, scared that he might have made things awkward. But you simply shake your head and make your way to him. 

The clock is ticking. They are supposed to be on stage in ten minutes. Adam cracks a joke that makes the rest of them laugh and George paces a bit more. It’s not like him to feel this nervous. Maybe he’s just having a bad trip, a bad day. 

The sound of the crowd does nothing to hype him up. Instead, it only serves as a reminder of what’s at stake. 

‘George shut up and listen to me,’ you take his face between your palms again. ‘You have done this dozens of time before. You made these songs, love. They are a part of you. You’re not going to mess up. Matty, Ross and Adam are not going to mess up. And these,’ you lightly tap on the IEMs hanging around his neck, ‘there are people to give you your cues.’ 

You’re right, he’s nodding along because he knows you’re right. 

‘Can I hug you?’ you ask tentatively, ‘do you think it would help?’

And maybe that’s just what he needs right now. A hug from his favourite person in the world. So he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Your comforting scent washes over him, something he’s more aware of than his whole body. For a second he can simply let himself imagine that this is his life. That when you step back, he will tell you how lucky he’s to have you, that he loves you and you will say it back. 

Instead, he hears Adam calling for him to come over.

‘Thank you,’ he smiles, actually manages to do it this time. ‘Thanks, I feel a bit better.’ 

‘Don’t worry about it,’ you grin up at him. ‘You’re going to be amazing! And the ladies are going to go wild for you. Besides, I’ll be here cheering for you. That’s what friends are for.’

Friends. Yeah. He would have thought that time would dull the sting that word brings but that's clearly not the case. 

‘Good luck, okay?’ you whisper, get on your tiptoes and press a quick kiss to his cheek. Your lips are soft, warm. So close to his mouth that he simply stops functioning for a second. 

‘Come on, mate, now!’ Ross shouts. It really is showtime but how is he supposed to step away?

It’s only when you step back to go to the others and give them all a good-luck hug that he gathers himself. 

Just like you said, the show goes great. It’s actually flawless, garners rave reviews. The next day there’s a semi-viral photo of him with a lipstick smudge on his cheek. People online tease and speculate. And he simply wishes he could go back in time and finish what you started.

---------------------------

George giggles slightly at the look on your face. The boyish sound is so at odds with the rockstar persona he’s got going on at the moment. You, on the other hand, can’t quite believe your eyes. 

The world around you is bathed in golden light. There’s a blue blanket on the rooftop and not just that, there’s a whole picnic basket on the rooftop. There are bottles of pop and alcohol, and weed, of course, weed. Because where there’s George, there’s always some amount (usually large amounts) of weed. 

‘What is this?’ you ask incredulously; a tone of surprise and elation coats your voice and he feels a little pang in his chest. 

‘Surprise?’ he opens his arms wide like an enthusiastic talk-show host. ‘You didn’t think we wouldn’t find out about the promotion, did you?’

George beams as the realisation hits you. Just because he doesn’t work a conventional job doesn’t mean he’s completely oblivious to the hard work that goes into it. And he knows how much you have wanted this from the bottom of your heart. Although he would never admit to how he found out about it. He’s supposed to be a cool, aloof rockstar, he’s not supposed to be scrolling through the instagram page of a company to look at photos of you in your element. 

‘It’s not much,’ he admits sheepishly. 

But his breath gets knocked out of him when you launch yourself at him, tightly wrap your arms around his waist. ‘Shut up, it’s perfect!’ you laugh. ‘Thank you thank you thank you!’

He returns the hug and desperately tries not to let his face go beetroot red. 

The sun is just about to set. He checks the time, half an hour before everyone else is supposed to arrive. That’s the smallest bit of deceit he has let himself indulge in—telling everyone else the wrong time so he gets half an hour with you all alone. But he can’t bring himself to feel guilty about it. 

‘And the others are coming too?’

‘They are,’ he confirms, ‘in a bit. I just got impatient.’

‘Shame,’ you shrug, ‘this could have been a perfect date.’

‘What?’ he stops breathing, almost certain that he misheard you. A small voice in his brain starts screaming and his breathing gets shakier. 

‘Yeah,’ you smile, completely unaware of the lightning that’s racing in his veins, ‘someday, some girl is going to be so lucky to have you.’

And just like that, he comes hurtling down. 

George wonders if it would be absolutely psychotic of him to grab you by the shoulders and shake you violently. He has never been as speechless in his life as he is right now because how in the world is he so hopelessly in love with an utter idiot?

How are you the smartest and the stupidest person he knows?

‘Oh,’ you sound a bit hesitant, ‘have I said something I shouldn’t have?’

He simply shakes his head. He doesn’t trust his voice enough to speak right now and he doesn’t want to open his mouth and find out what comes out. 

‘Oh my god, there’s already someone, isn’t there?’ your eyes widen, you gasp as if you have connected the dots, solved the unsolvable cypher and George simply wonders if he should laugh or cry or throw himself off this fucking roof. 

Or pin you against the wall and kiss you till your lips are swollen. 

But that’s the exact moment his phone pings with a text. Saved and Damned by the bell. 

Matty and his girlfriend are almost here and his whole life is a fucking cosmic joke.

---------------------------

George has been mopey. There’s no other word for it. And he can tell that his friends are equal parts worried and fed up with him. 

Even now as he moodily sighs instead of doing actual work, he can feel Ross’s eyes on him. It’s not easy to hide shit from someone who’s essentially an extension of you; who knows your body language better than you do. So when Ross quietly offers him a cigarette and a chance to let it all out, he accepts gratefully. 

‘So all this for a girl then?’ his friend teases lightly once George is done unloading everything. 

It started out as a calm, collected discussion of his feelings. And then devolved into a rant about how he’s a coward for not being able to simply…confess. So the light teasing feels a bit like a jab. 

‘Yes,’ he replies curtly, ‘I’m pathetic. I know. Just say it.’

‘No, that’s not what…come on,’ Ross sighs. And it’s all well and good because George is not mad at him. Not really. 

He’s just annoyed, irritated, miffed, crabby, and yeah okay a little mad at himself. He feels like a pimply pre-teen who has no outlet for his angst apart from blasting out The Smiths in his bedroom. Which he might as well do at this point. 

‘And why haven’t you told her?’ 

It’s such a simple question. He almost wants to laugh at the obvious tone Ross asks it in. Why hasn’t he said anything yet…

Oh, maybe he’s terrified of messing things up?! What happens if you don't feel the same and then there are tensions between you and it would mess things up between Matty and his girlfriend because he met her through you. Also because George knows you two are like sisters. Or worse, he can’t say anything because what if you are already in love with someone else? And what if it’s one of his friends? What if—

‘Stop,’ Ross warns in a low voice. Maybe George’s panic is written very clearly on his face or maybe his friend just knows how to read him like a book. ‘What’s the worst that could happen if you told her, mate?’

And that’s a thought he does not want to entertain. Because there are a lot of possibilities; rational and irrational. So he simply hangs his head and takes another deep drag of the cigarette. 

They go back and forth; Ross tells him all the reasons why it’s a good idea and George comes up with a counterpoint for each one of them. This is a neverending debate, he knows it is because he’s had it with himself countless times before. In the end, however, he feels a little better. 

What if he simply started by asking you out for a coffee? Something that could easily be explained away as a friendly date. A coffee, a movie, a drink. Anything to spend time with you, to see if he has a shot. So George takes his keys out of his pocket and makes his way to his car. 

He’s almost pulling onto your street. His stomach is in knots, his mouth dry. He desperately wants to bounce his leg up and down but he’s driving so that’s out of the question. Your house stands out to him in the row of others and he scans the street to find some parking. A white car is parked in his usual spot in front of your house which makes him frown a bit but he doesn’t pay much attention to it; it’s not like he owns the spot. 

But then he sees you. In front of your door in a gorgeous black dress and a tall, handsome man next to you standing way too close than he should be. 

Too late George realises what’s happening. Too late he notices how you lean towards this man, how you smile up at him and place your hand on his bicep. The way your thumbs draw lazy circles on his arm that George thought was only reserved for him. Too late he realises what he’s going to see; the man bends down, you tilt your chin up and close the gap. 

For a second he’s sure he’s about the empty the contents of his stomach onto his lap. Fire burns through his veins; green and envious hellfire. So in a panicked daze, he floors the accelerator, pulls away and out of the street just as fast as he came in. 

He does not want to stay and find out if the other man is invited inside. 

---------------------------

George is in a foul mood. That, and he’s also terribly drunk; just one of two more pints shy of being stumbling, blackout drunk. 

It’s Adam’s birthday; a happy occasion. Everyone is a funny, cheerful drunk but he feels like he’s two seconds away from punching a hole in the nearest wall. Because you haven’t let go of that insipid man’s arm all evening. The same man that he saw outside your door all those weeks ago. 

Fucking Hayden and his pretentious drawl. He doesn’t understand what you see in that twat; someone as dazzling and gorgeous as you on the arm of one of the most insufferable people George has ever met. And the fact that he’s your date for the evening. That feels like a real kick in the nuts. 

If he could just take out his frustration by shutting himself in his studio and banging on his drums till his knuckles bled. But no, here he is. Stuck in a social situation. So when the chance comes to escape to the balcony for a quick smoke, he takes it. 

The night air does help a little to sober him up which is both good and bad. Good because he wants to be able to make clearheaded decisions. Bad because he simply wants to forget. 

‘You’ve been hiding,’ you announce as soon as you step onto the balcony. 

The sound of your voice startles him a little. And makes the vein in his forehead throb. 

‘Where’s your boytoy?’ he asks without turning around. It’s a bitter and lame statement but he can’t help himself, so he simply stares off into the distance and let his annoyance grow.

‘Don’t be like that… I only wanted to introduce my boyfriend to my friends.’

Boyfriend. He scoffs. That dimwit is nowhere near worthy of the title. 

‘And so you did,’ he speaks curtly, ‘he’s great, amazing, is that what you want me to say?’ Harold is—’

‘Hayden.’

‘Whatever.’

The silence stretches on. For a minute he’s sure you’ve left, that he’s alone on the balcony once again but then he hears your shaky breathing. A wave of fear passes through him; has he made you cry? Did he cross a line? He turns around, fully prepared to grovel and apologize and stops in his tracks. 

Your hands tremble at your sides, your lip is curled up and your eyes blaze in pure fury. He’s actually a bit scared of that look. He’s only seen it once before and he remembers what happened then, he never thought it would be directed at him. 

‘What the fuck is your problem, George? You haven’t even talked to him and you’re just going to form opinions? Based off of what, huh?!’ you seethe and step closer. 

‘Well, I heard both of you talking to Matty and Ross. You got along great, it was fantastic, happy?’ 

He hears the tone of his voice, he really does. It’s snippy and rude and bordering on cruel but the tether between his brain and his mouth seems to have snapped. Or washed away with the last glass of scotch. 

‘Are you even hearing yourself right now?’ you ask incredulously, eyes wide and throat bobbing. Because of course, his behaviour makes no sense. Because of course, you don’t actually know what his problem is.

He runs his hands through his hair and shakes his head. This is not what he should be doing right now, he should be pulling you close and whispering 101 reasons against your lips for why he’s better, why it’s him you should be with. Jealous, envious thoughts cloud his vision and his judgement. He’s no good to anyone right now. But his feet refuse to move. 

Even when you’re fuming at him, you are downright stunning. Clad in a pretty pink thing that brings out the flush in your cheeks. Right now it’s anger and alcohol but he hates to think that there are days when that clown is the reason why you blush and bite your lip. 

‘Go away,’ he states. He tries to make it sound as dismissive as possible, as rude as he can but it comes out weak and pathetic. 

‘You don’t tell me what to do,’ you huff, arms crossing in front of your chest. He doesn’t miss the way it deepens your cleavage and right in the middle of this fight, he wishes he could hitch up your dress and fuck you till the only thing you can remember is his name. ‘I’m serious.’

This has turned into a battle of wills. He was never prepared for it, and now he has no way out of it. So he takes a deep breath and picks the worst possible option. 

‘If you really care about my opinion then here you fucking go. I don’t like Hayden, I think he’s a pretentious little shit who’s only with you because he likes you as his arm candy. But you’re too blinded to see that right now.’ It scares him a little how calm he sounds but now that the words are out there, he can’t stop. ‘He looks at you like you’re a piece of meat that he can’t wait to sink his teeth into. He looks at you like you’re this…this thing.’ 

‘You’re being cruel, George’ your voice breaks on his name. He sees the damage his words have done but it’s better this way. 

The betrayal will sting, you would go home and cry to Hayden. He would comfort you, tell you that George is an asshole that you should stay away from. And you would stay away from him. George would nurse his broken heart, fuck around till he can’t feel his dick anymore and then, if he’s lucky, move on. 

‘Yeah, well,’ he shrugs casually, ‘you asked me what my problem was. My problem is that he’s too conceited to ever be a good fit for you and you’re too stupid to see it.’

The last syllable resonates between the two of you like a death knell. You take a shaky breath, blink back the tears. 

‘You’re a miserable asshole!’

George watches you turn around on your heels and walk away. He takes a shuddering breath and closes his eyes. The fight hasn’t fully sunk in yet. But it will. And when it does, when the eventual regret comes, he would desperately wish he could go back in time and confess his real feelings. 

---------------------------

George is fucking miserable. 

It’s been two months since he’s spoken to you, or heard from you, or even seen you. Two months since the night of Adam’s birthday. All he’s done in these two months is get out of bed, work till he’s exhausted and then drink till he passes out. 

His friends are worried about him. He can tell from the way they exchange long glances with each other every time he’s in the room. He wonders if they know what happened, if you told them but he hasn’t asked. In part because he’s worried about what they might tell him, that you and your boyfriend are all loved up, maybe even moved in together. Fuck, you could have eloped with him by now and George wouldn’t know. 

So he takes another swig of his beer and focuses on whatever show’s playing on the TV. 

It’s almost 11 at night and he’s not nearly as drunk as he’d like to be. He’s pretty sure that the bottle in his hand is the last one, that there’s no more left in the fridge but he does have a lot of weed. Maybe that’s what he will do after. 

So when the bell rings abruptly he lets out a deep, irritated groan. 

It’s probably just one of his friends, here to shoot the shit because none of them have any concept of boundaries with each other anyway. Maybe if he just ignores it, they will go away. 

The bell rings again followed by some pounding on the door. 

He huffs and gets off the sofa. The pounding doesn’t stop until he yanks the door open hard enough to rip it off its hinges; ready to yell at whoever’s bothering him at this hour. But one look and his heart stops beating inside his chest. 

For a minute he wonders if all the exhaustion and alcohol and sleep deprivation has culminated into hallucinations. And then his heart breaks at the sight in front of him. 

You look small and miserable; raw, red eyes with tear stains running down your cheeks. Your mascara is smudged, there’s a layer of black under your eyes and your lip wobbles from the effort of keeping everything at bay. He opens his mouth and closes it again when you make a run for him and bury your face straight in his chest. 

His heart breaks at the sound of your sobs. How often has he wished that you would just show up at his doorstep and all will be forgiven? But this is not how he wanted it, not when something’s clearly causing you pain. 

‘Oh, my darling,’ he shushes slowly, a bit bewildered but more worried. Whatever buzz the alcohol had left, drains out of his body in an instant. ‘Let’s get you inside, love. Come on.’ 

It takes him a few moments to calm you down enough so he can steer you into the living room and onto the sofa. Empty bottles of alcohol litter the floor, old cigarette butts in the ashtray that he never cleaned out but he’s not bothered by all that right now. Not when he has much bigger things to worry about. 

‘It’s alright, love, he speaks softly and rubs your back in slow, soothing circles, ‘it’s alright.’

The coil in his stomach tightens as panic threatens to take over. But he has to stay calm for you. Because you clearly need him right now and he’s not about to disappoint you again. 

You stay like that for five minutes, then ten. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t try to ask you questions before you’re ready to speak. If he has to hold and soothe you all night long then he’s happy to do so as long as he knows he can do something to help. 

‘You were right,’ you speak through tears, in a shaky voice that sounds hoarse. ‘You were so right and I was just too fucking stupid to see it.’

His words from months ago come back to haunt him. Not like he has stopped thinking about them. Sometimes, at night, they play in his head on a loop. 

‘No…no don’t say that,’ he holds you close and gently rocks back and forth, ‘never say that.’

He focuses on how you’re almost on his lap; face buried in his chest, hands fisted in his jumper. Your bodies fit together perfectly as if you’re two pieces of the same puzzle and if it weren’t for the fact that you are currently crying your eyes out, he would have died of pure fucking bliss. 

‘Hayden cheated on me,’ you whisper in a broken voice. 

He had suspected something like this but hearing it still fills him with white-hot fury. 

‘He cheated on me with my friend. And you know what the worst part is?’ you laugh bitterly, ‘the worst fucking part is that I’m more upset about losing a friend than losing a boyfriend.’

That makes him laugh despite himself. 

That’s my girl, he almost says but stops himself. Because you’re not his, are you? All his yearning won’t make it come true. 

‘Go on,’ you nudge him in the ribs, ‘say I told you so.’

He has to clear his throat before he speaks. ‘Is that what you think of me?’ 

For the first time that night, you finally look at him. ‘No, that’s not…well you were clearly right, so…’

‘I don’t care about being right,’ he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, ‘I care about you.’

And that’s as close he has ever come to confess his true feelings. And maybe that’s as close as he’ll ever get. 

You open your mouth and close it again, a bit too stunned to say anything. 

‘It’s his loss for letting go of someone like you.’ George speaks it like a fact; an irrefutable, universal fact. Because to him, it is. 

It takes him some courage to do it, but he slowly wipes away the mascara-stained tears off your face. All while he looks at you with a gentle, tender smile. His feelings don’t matter in this moment; if you need a friendly shoulder to cry on then that’s what he will be. A friend, a companion. 

You are quiet for a while, playing with a random loose thread of his jumper, deep in thought. You are still almost on his lap, still in his arms. And there’s warmth in his body like he has never felt before. 

‘What are you thinking?’ he asks, breaking the silence. 

‘Maybe I’m just hard to love, maybe that’s what it is.’

If the urge to deck Hayden wasn’t strong enough before, it’s almost uncontrollable now. The only thing that keeps him in place is the need to reassure you. To tell you how wrong you are. 

There’s a cacophony of thoughts in his head, several of them fighting to be said out loud all at once. He wants to curse out your asshole ex, he wants to tell you what a wonderful person you are, absolutely perfect. How you always make him smile wide, grin ear to ear and make his stomach flutter. How you deserve the whole world. 

Instead, what he says is, ‘you’re the easiest person to love. Trust me, I would know.’

And that’s how everything comes out. 

And that’s how you end up looking at him through wide, teary eyes with slightly parted lips. 

And that’s how he finally does what he has been dying to do for years.

Years later, when George will remember this night, your first kiss, he will always remember the salty taste of it, the feeling of your dry chapped lips on his, how you messily grabbed at each other, unable to get enough. Years later, he will still remember how despite the kiss not being picture-perfect, it was still the best thing he has ever experienced. Years later, he won’t remember what you were wearing that night, or what day it was or what time. He will only remember how his heart beat fast enough to almost leap out of his chest. 

But later isn’t here yet. 

And right now he only wants to lose himself in this moment, in catching up for all the months and years he has lost out of sheer cowardice.  

[yanderes-galore]

Mikan (Danganronpa 2) w/ Clingy darling Platonic/Romantic

She'd... really need that, yeah—

Yandere! Mikan Tsumiki with Clingy! Darling

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Abuse (Mikan's past), Possessive behavior, Fear of abandonment, Clingy behavior (On both ends), PDA, Overly affectionate behavior, Drugging, Isolation, Dubious companionship/relationship.

Yikes... I'm pretty sure this girl is canonically a yandere at times.

She seems like she'd primarily be a romantic yandere, but she could probably also see her obsession as a friend.

She's meek, paranoid, and desperately needs validation.

She wants to be close to people, yet doesn't want to drive them off.

She's so used to disappointing people and being ignored that she isn't used to positive affection.

So... Her obsession giving her constant affection?

A recipe for disaster.

Mikan is used to being mistreated and bullied by her peers.

Having a positive connection with someone who willingly wants to spend time with her unnerves her a first.

She doesn't get it.

Why are you treating her in such a way?

Did she do something?

Mikan craves any sort of attention and validation.

The moment she gets it, she clings onto it.

We can see this in her Free Time events with Hajime.

In the game she canonically is clingy and stalks those she adores.

You probably stepped in to help her after one of her "accidents" or Hiyoko's bullying.

You're no doubt a naturally affectionate person and check her over.

She may be the Ultimate Nurse yet you still care enough to check for wounds or bruises.

Mikan is stunned when you first show care for her.

Poor girl isn't used to such attention.

You don't push her away or call her names.

You actually invite her to hang out more often during your time on the Island.

Mikan's puzzled and confused...

Yet she quickly begins to crave your attention.

Platonic, romantic, it's all a bit vague when it comes to her.

She just craves any attention from you.

To the point of doing things for your attention, such as her "accidents" or following you around.

Other people are put off by her behavior, for good reason.

But you? When she thinks you're going to push her away?

You just give more attention.

Mikan herself is already pretty clingy.

Maybe you yourself are naturally touchy with friends?

The first time you gave Mikan a hug to cheer her up, she freezes.

Although... She's quickly addicted.

I imagine Mikan doesn't have boundaries with you.

Any attention must be good attention.

She sits close to you, always wants hugs...

Hell, there's times she may even sit on your lap if it means you'll look at her.

The most tragic part of her character is her need for affection.

A clingy obsession is like a sweet poison to her.

Like sugar, affection may be nice in small doses.

Then it becomes bad for your health.

Mikan would do anything for your love and attention.

She forces herself on your lap, clings to your side, follows you around like a lost puppy...

If her attentions were romantic, she'd probably crave kisses too.

Affection with her blurs boundaries.

I'm talking even if you saw her in a platonic light... Mikan would cuddle you or sneak into your room for your warmth.

Y'know... Creepy behavior.

She's easily jealous, afraid you'd give such affection to someone else.

She does everything she can to prevent that.

Feeding her more and more attention is dangerous to you.

Soon, she just can't let you go anymore.

Mikan craves control... If she saw you being affectionate or clingy with another...

Who knows what she'll do?

Actually, here's an example.

Drugging.

In canon she has told Hajime she wishes she could force him to rely on her.

Imagine if she couldn't accept the fact you're clingy to anyone else.

As a result, she drugs you.

Maybe in your food, or when you sleep...

Just to cuddle you close... To know you're hers.

To her it doesn't matter how you feel about it or what the feelings you two have are.

She'd sleep in the same bed as you, wrap herself tightly around you...

Anything to keep you as hers.

Being affectionate or clingy may just escalate her obsession with you.

She wants to believe you two are the only ones for one another.

Friends, lovers, either way...

Mikan wants your attention.

She needs it.

She craves it.

Mikan doesn't care if she has to force you to rely on her to keep you to herself...

You were one of the first people to show her love...

She's going to keep you to herself no matter what.

[transmasc-advice-blog]

Some advice for my fellow transmascs who get periods

Content warning: I will be talking about periods, including period products, blood, dysphoria, pain, and anatomy

Also this won't apply to everyone, but it's what works for me

So I don't really get genital dysphoria, but I absolutely do get dysphoric about my period. The best thing I've found is to make it as easy as possible to forget about. I hate wearing pads- it's uncomfortable, hard to wear with boxers, and they make me dysphoric. I also don't like tampons, I can feel them as well and I feel like they make my cramps worse. Plus, with these disposable products, they're usually wrapped in bright colorful packaging that feels really feminine to me. So I primarily use 2 things: period underwear and a menstrual cup.

Period underwear absorbs the blood after it comes out, similar to how pads do. The upside is that they look and feel like regular underwear, and you can get them in whatever cut you want including boxers or other more masculine cuts. Also, you don't feel them as much as a pad, so it's easier to ignore. One of the parts I don't like, though, is that it does take a little bit to absorb, so it feels wet. Additionally, if you have a heavier flow than you anticipated and you start to leak, it's hard to put a pad on when they're already bloody. Plus you probably have to wash them in a separate load of laundry from your other clothes

A menstrual cup is inserted into the vagina and collects the blood before it can get out. As a result, you don't constantly have a constant reminder by feeling the blood. It also doesn't have a string sticking out like a tampon. It can be worn for a long time, including overnight. You just empty it into the toilet and put it back in, so you don't have to bring another pad or tampon into the bathroom with you. This is especially helpful when using men's bathrooms that don't have a place to throw away used products or wrappers. The cup is much harder to get used to though. It takes some practice and patience to put it in right. Additionally, in order to work right it has to form a seal, so you need to make sure that it's sealed. The best way to do this is by running one finger around the base to make sure it's fully back to the cup shape on all sides, not still folded up. It can be messy to take out. Usually to take it out will require at least two fingers, and you need to break the seal by pushing on one of the sides, otherwise it won't come out. Most likely the first few times you do it, the blood will spill all over your hands. That happens less once you're used to it, but you still might get blood on your fingers. If you are uncomfortable or dysphoric about inserting things into your vagina, a menstrual cup will probably not be a good option for you

This won't work for everyone, but for me the best option is to wear a cup, with period boxers over it just in case it leaks. This is the way that makes me least aware of my period.

Also, if you take something like midol for your cramps, and you also take other medications, you could put the painkiller in your medicine organizer for the morning, that way you don't have to look at the bottle every time you need to take some. I put all my medications in a pill organizer so they're easy for me to access, I don't have to see my deadname, and I don't have to see the bottle that says it's for period symptoms

These solutions certainly aren't for everyone, but I hope they help someone. Take care of yourself, bind safely, take your meds, drink some water, and be kind to yourself

great advice, thanks!