#that is not something I have ever feared happening when encountering a bear

[chaos-in-one]

Watching the whole "would you rather be in the woods with a bear or a strange man" debate go down is so funny to me as someone who has gone camping up in the mountains a good portion of my life and actually seen bears because like

They are NOT nearly as dangerous as some of the people mad about people choosing the bear are making them out to be. Even grizzlies. Generally, unless you are near their babies or they are literally starving, they'll leave you alone as long as you leave them alone. I actually did not feel that unsafe the handful of times I saw a bear in the woods because I understood that as long as I wasn't a complete fucking idiot about it, the bear wasn't going to do shit to me. Bears generally do not want to attack humans. About the only one that has been known to actually try to hunt humans is a polar bear, and you're not going to find a polar bear in a fucking forest.

[misswynters]

Stormbound

Jacaerys Velaryon x pregnant!reader

[WARNING: pregnancy, mentions of difficult pregnancy terms, fluff

[SYNOPSIS: You were heavily pregnant as you and jace encounter a wild dragon while a storm raged on.

[NOTE: you had poor jace stressed out, we love jace being protective over the reader: also if you would like something specific, send an ask!

"Where are they?" he muttered to himself, running a hand through his dark curls. The maesters had assured him that everything was fine, but he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in his chest.

Your pregnancy had been difficult, and the tension had taken its toll on Jacaerys. He had tried to be strong for you, but the fear of losing you, or the child, was ever-present. He couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you both.

Just as he was about to go in search of you again, the doors to the hall creaked open, and you stepped inside. Despite the strain of pregnancy, you carried yourself with the grace and strength he had always admired. Your hand rested protectively on your swollen belly, and your face lit up with a tired but genuine smile when you saw him.

"Jace," you said softly, your voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves.

He rushed to your side, his hands immediately going to your belly. "Where have you been? I was worried sick."

You laughed lightly, the sound easing some of his tension. "I just needed some fresh air. The castle can feel so confining sometimes."

He sighed, pulling you into a gentle embrace. "You should have told me. I would have gone with you."

"I know, but you worry too much," you replied, leaning into him. "I wanted a moment to myself. Besides, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

Jacaerys pressed a kiss to your forehead, his heart swelling with love and protectiveness. "I know you are. But I can't help it. I love you too much to let anything happen to you."

You smiled up at him, your eyes filled with warmth. "And I love you, Jace. But you need to relax. Stress isn't good for either of us."

He nodded, though the worry didn't entirely leave his eyes. "Alright. Let's find somewhere quiet. I need to feel you and the baby close."

Hand in hand, you led him out of the grand hall and towards the more secluded parts of Dragonstone. The storm outside raged on, but within the castle, it felt as if the two of you were in your own world. The soft glow of torches lit your way, casting flickering shadows on the ancient stone walls.

You reached a small alcove near the courtyard, a place where you had spent many quiet moments together. Jacaerys helped you settle onto a bench, his hand never leaving yours.

"You know," you began, your voice soft and contemplative, "I sometimes wonder what it would be like to just... leave all of this behind. To take our child and live a simple life, away from the responsibilities and the danger."

Jacaerys looked at you, surprise flickering across his face. "You've never mentioned that before."

You shrugged, a wistful smile on your lips. "It's just a thought. I know we have our duties, and I wouldn't trade our life here for anything. But sometimes, it's nice to imagine a different path."

He squeezed your hand, his gaze intense and loving. "If that's what you want, we'll find a way. Your happiness means everything to me."

You shook your head, a gentle laugh escaping your lips. "No, Jace. This is our home, and we belong here. But it doesn't hurt to dream, does it?"

"No, it doesn't," he agreed, pulling you closer. "As long as we have each other, we can face anything."

For a while, you sat together in comfortable silence, listening to the distant roar of the storm and the crackle of the torches. The tension that had gripped Jacaerys slowly began to fade, replaced by a sense of peace.

But peace was a fleeting thing in times of war and unrest. As the storm continued to rage outside, a distant, echoing roar pierced the night. Jacaerys tensed, his protective instincts flaring to life. "Did you hear that?" he asked, his voice low and urgent.

You nodded, your own heart racing. "What was it?"

"Stay here," he commanded, rising to his feet. "I'll go check."

"No," you protested, grabbing his arm. "I'm coming with you."

"___, you're pregnant," he began, but the look in your eyes silenced him. "Alright. But stay close to me."

Together, you made your way through the castle, following the eerie sound. The further you went, the louder the roar became, until you found yourselves standing at the entrance to the courtyard.

And there, in the middle of the storm, was a dragon unlike any you had ever seen. It was massive, nearly as large as Vhagar but with a wild, untamed look in its eyes. Its scales were a deep, iridescent purple, shimmering in the lightning flashes.

"Aero," Jacaerys whispered, awe and fear in his voice. "The Catastrophe."

You had heard of Aero, the wild dragon that roamed the skies near Dragonstone, but seeing it in person was an entirely different experience. The dragon's presence was overwhelming, and for a moment, you were frozen in place.

But Jacaerys didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, his voice steady and calm despite the fear in his eyes. "Aero," he called out, "we mean you no harm."

The dragon turned its gaze towards you both, its eyes glowing with an almost intelligent curiosity. It took a step forward, and Jacaerys instinctively moved in front of you, shielding you with his body.

"Jace," you whispered, fear gripping your heart.

"It's alright," he said, his voice firm. "Just stay behind me."

Aero lowered its massive head, sniffing the air around you. For a moment, it seemed as if the dragon was considering whether to attack or not. But then, with a huff that sent a gust of hot air over you both, Aero turned and took to the skies, disappearing into the storm.

Jacaerys let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, turning to pull you into his arms. "Are you alright?"

You nodded, clinging to him. "Yes. That was... incredible. And terrifying."

He chuckled, though the tension hadn't entirely left his body. "That's one way to put it. I can't believe we just saw Aero up close."

You leaned into him, the adrenaline slowly ebbing away. "We should get back inside. The maesters will have our heads if they find out we were out here."

He nodded, but didn't move to leave. Instead, he held you close, his hand resting on your belly. "I'm so glad you're safe," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

You kissed him gently, your heart full of love for this brave, protective man. "I am. Thanks to you."

As you made your way back inside, the storm began to die down, leaving a sense of calm in its wake. Jacaerys was still tense, but the fear had been replaced by a fierce determination to protect you and your unborn child. Later that night, as you lay in bed, Jacaerys held you close, his hand never leaving your belly. The events of the evening had only strengthened his resolve to keep you safe, no matter what.

"___," he murmured, his voice soft in the darkness. "I promise you, I will always protect you and our babe. No matter what it takes."

You smiled, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. "I know you will, Jace. You will be a fine father."

In the quiet of the night, with the storm finally gone, you both drifted off to sleep, your hearts full of love and hope for the future.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood

banner by: @cafekitsune

[velvetvisionsaurora]

Pairing: Hongjoong x reader, Seonghwa x reader, Yunho x reader, Mingi x reader, Wooyoung x reader.

Summary: Five eight-year-old boys aboard the slave ship Crimson Serpent form an unbreakable bond with five-year-old y/n. before she's sold at auction. Despite their failed rescue attempt, they swear a blood oath on her teddy bear to find her. Fifteen years later, now feared pirates leading the ATEEZ

Warnings: Slavery/Human Trafficking, Separation/Loss, Violence, Eventual Smut. SA(not by any main characters) y/n gets switched to a real name but it has a purpose. More warnings to be updated.

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Masterlist

Chapter 12

Breaking Points

The captain's quarters were unusually crowded for a strategy meeting. Hongjoong sat behind his desk, maps and charts temporarily cleared to make space for the bottle of rum and glasses that Wooyoung had insisted on bringing.

"This isn't just a meeting," Wooyoung had declared as he burst in with the supplies. "It's a celebration."

Yunho leaned against the wall near the porthole, his tall frame folded into what little space remained. Across from him, Wooyoung perched on the edge of a storage trunk, already pouring generous portions of rum into mismatched glasses. Only Seonghwa maintained his usual perfect posture, seated at the chair opposite Hongjoong's desk, his back rigid and expression carefully neutral.

"To finding y/n," Wooyoung announced, raising his glass with characteristic enthusiasm. "After fifteen years of searching, false leads, and disappointments, we finally did it!"

Yunho and Hongjoong raised their glasses in agreement, though Seonghwa's participation was noticeably less enthusiastic, his movement mechanical rather than celebratory.

"It still doesn't seem real," Yunho said after taking a sip. "Even after seeing her with Mingi in the medical bay... part of me can't believe we actually found her."

"Found her?" Wooyoung scoffed good-naturedly. "She found us! Walked right into that auction house and practically delivered herself to Hongjoong. The universe has a strange sense of humor."

"Or justice," Hongjoong added quietly. "After fifteen years, we deserved a little cosmic assistance."

The room fell silent as each man contemplated the extraordinary circumstances that had brought y/n back into their lives.

"Have you considered what happens next?" Seonghwa asked, breaking the silence. His tone was measured, practical, devoid of the wonder that colored the others' voices.

"What do you mean?" Yunho asked.

"Our mission for fifteen years has been to find her," Seonghwa continued, his fingers absently straightening the edges of a nearby map. "Now that we've succeeded, what is our purpose? Do we continue targeting Blackwell's operations? Do we return to more conventional piracy? Do we..." he hesitated, "...alter our course entirely?"

"I think that's something we all need to figure out together," Hongjoong replied carefully. "Including y/n. Her perspective matters in this decision."

"Her perspective?" Seonghwa's eyebrow rose slightly. "She's been aboard for less than two weeks. Regardless of our shared childhood, she knows nothing of our operations, our strategic objectives, or the alliances we've built over fifteen years."

"She's a quick study," Wooyoung countered, his usual playfulness hardening slightly. "And she knows more about Blackwell's operation than anyone we've ever encountered. She's already provided intelligence that would have taken us months to gather through conventional means."

"I'm not questioning her value as an information source," Seonghwa clarified, his tone sharpening. "I'm questioning the wisdom of immediately integrating her into strategic decision-making when she's only just beginning to adjust to her new circumstances."

Something in his carefully controlled delivery sparked visible frustration in Wooyoung. He set his glass down with more force than necessary, rum sloshing dangerously close to the rim.

"What is wrong with you?" he demanded. "Ever since y/n revealed herself, you've been acting like she's some kind of... intruder. Like finding her is an inconvenience rather than the fulfillment of everything we've been working toward."

"I'm being realistic," Seonghwa replied, his voice cooling. "Someone needs to maintain operational perspective while the rest of you indulge in emotional reunion fantasies."

"Fantasies?" Wooyoung's voice rose incredulously. "There's nothing fantasy about it! She's here, she's real, and she's the same person we've been searching for since we were children!"

"Is she?" Seonghwa challenged, his composure finally showing cracks. "The five-year-old girl we knew aboard The Crimson Serpent no longer exists. She's been replaced by a twenty-year-old woman shaped by fifteen years of captivity and calculated survival. We know almost nothing about who she's become."

"We know exactly who she is," Wooyoung insisted, standing now as his frustration grew. "She breaks honey cakes in half before eating them. She arranges objects at right angles when distracted. She knows star patterns Yunho taught her. She recognized Mingi's compass mark. What more proof do you need?"

"Those are habits, not identity," Seonghwa countered, his posture growing more rigid with tension. "Surface behaviors that survived captivity, not confirmation of unchanged character or compatible objectives."

"Wooyoung, Seonghwa," Hongjoong began, his captain's voice cutting through the tension.

"No, I want to understand this," Wooyoung interrupted. "We've spent fifteen years searching for her. Now that we've found her, you're suddenly keeping your distance, treating her like she's a threat rather than the fulfillment of our oath. What happened to 'we promised to find her no matter how long it takes'?"

"We promised to find her," Seonghwa replied, his voice tight. "We didn't promise to abandon all rational caution upon doing so."

"Rational caution?" Wooyoung repeated incredulously. "Is that what you call barely speaking to her? Avoiding any moment alone with her? Arranging her quarters and belongings without ever directly interacting with her?"

"I'm respecting her need for adjustment," Seonghwa insisted. "Unlike you, who immediately expects her to resume childhood connections as if fifteen years of trauma simply doesn't matter."

"That's not fair," Yunho interjected, his gentle voice unusually firm. "None of us expects her to be unchanged. We're all giving her space to define our relationships on her terms."

"Are we?" Seonghwa challenged, turning toward the tall boatswain. "Or are we projecting fifteen years of fantasy onto someone who happens to match physical description and exhibit certain familiar habits?"

Hongjoong leaned forward, his attention fully focused on his quartermaster.

"Seonghwa," he said quietly, "what's really bothering you about y/n’s return?"

For a moment, it seemed Seonghwa might maintain his composure. Then something shifted in his expression—a fracture in the perfect control he had maintained not just for days but for fifteen years.

"She called him 'Puppy,'" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What?" Wooyoung asked, confusion temporarily displacing anger.

"When Mingi was brought in after the battle," Seonghwa continued, each word emerging with difficulty. "Bleeding, unconscious, possibly dying. She broke through her careful disguise and called him 'Puppy.' Not Yunho, not Wooyoung, not Hongjoong. Mingi."

Understanding dawned across Yunho's gentle features. "You think her strongest connection was with Mingi. That's why his injury triggered her revelation."

"I don't think," Seonghwa corrected, unusual emotion coloring his voice. "I know. I was watching her face when we carried him in. That wasn't calculated decision or strategic revelation. That was pure emotional response. Something she couldn't control despite fifteen years learning to control everything."

"And this bothers you because...?" Hongjoong prompted, though his expression suggested he already understood.

Seonghwa's hands moved to the edge of the desk, fingers gripping the wood with unusual force as his perfect posture finally collapsed. "Because it should have been me!" he burst out, voice cracking with emotion. "I was supposed to protect her that day in Halazia! I was the one with her when Captain Redmond found us!"

The outburst stunned even Wooyoung into momentary silence. Seonghwa's carefully maintained composure had shattered completely, revealing raw pain that had apparently survived fifteen years beneath his methodical exterior.

"It was my plan that failed," he continued, words rushing out now that the barrier had broken. "My responsibility to get her to the delivery crate. My failure that allowed Redmond to take her directly to auction."

"Seonghwa," Yunho said gently, "we all failed that day. It wasn't just your responsibility."

"I was the oldest," Seonghwa insisted, anguish evident despite his attempt to regain control. "The one who made the plans. The one who was supposed to anticipate problems and create contingencies. The one who promised her 'We'll take care of you' that first night aboard The Crimson Serpent."

"And when she finally revealed herself," he continued, voice dropping to a near whisper, "it wasn't because of me. Not because of my planning or preparation or fifteen years of methodical searching. But because Mingi was injured. Because emotional connection overrode strategic calculation despite fifteen years of careful control."

"You're blaming yourself for something that happened when you were eight years old," Hongjoong said finally. "Holding yourself to an impossible standard that no child could have met under those circumstances."

"My age doesn't change what happened," Seonghwa replied, though some of the intensity had drained from his voice. "She was taken because my plan failed. She endured fifteen years of captivity because I couldn't protect her that day."

"And you've been carrying that guilt for fifteen years," Yunho observed gently. "Using it as fuel for your obsessive planning, your meticulous strategies, your refusal to accept even minimal possibility of failure in any operation since."

For a moment, Seonghwa seemed about to deny this interpretation. Then his shoulders slumped slightly, uncharacteristic defeat showing in his usually perfect posture.

"What else could I do?" he asked quietly. "How else could I make amends for such catastrophic failure?"

"You could talk to her," Wooyoung suggested, his earlier anger replaced by genuine compassion. "Tell her what you just told us. Let her decide whether forgiveness is needed rather than assuming it's impossible."

The simple suggestion seemed to startle Seonghwa despite its obvious practicality.

"She might surprise you," Yunho added gently. "Y/n sees more than most people think. Just like when we were children."

"She understands Blackwell's psychological tactics better than anyone," Hongjoong contributed. "The way he deliberately isolated household members to prevent alliances, how he separated people who formed connections. She'd recognize that same pattern in your withdrawal."

Seonghwa remained silent, absorbing these perspectives without immediate response. Unlike his usual quick analysis, this particular situation seemed to require deeper consideration.

"I don't know how," he admitted finally, rare uncertainty replacing his typical precise certainty. "Fifteen years developing methods for finding her, and I have no protocol for actually interacting with her now that we have."

"Just talk to her," Wooyoung urged again. "Not as Quartermaster Seonghwa of the feared ATEEZ, but as the boy who once called her 'dove' when you thought no one could hear."

Seonghwa's head snapped up, surprise evident despite his attempt to maintain composure. "How did you—"

"We all had our names for her," Wooyoung admitted with a small smile. "You weren't as discreet as you thought when arranging her blankets at night or checking her hiding places were secure."

"I'll... consider it," Seonghwa said finally. "After I've developed appropriate approach and suitable methodology."

"Or you could just knock on her door and start with 'I'm sorry,'" Wooyoung suggested, gentle teasing returning to his voice. "Sometimes the direct approach works better than elaborate strategy, you know."

Before Seonghwa could respond, a knock interrupted their discussion. The door opened to reveal a crew member.

"Captain," she reported, "Master Gunner Mingi is awake and responsive. Doctor Yeosang reports significant improvement."

"Thank you," Hongjoong acknowledged, pleasure warming his voice. "Inform the doctor we'll visit when appropriate."

As the messenger departed, momentary silence settled over the captain's quarters.

"We should go see him," Wooyoung suggested. "Especially since this is the first time he's been fully conscious since y/n revealed herself."

"Agreed," Hongjoong confirmed, rising from his desk. "But Seonghwa, this conversation isn't finished. What you're carrying isn't just your burden to bear."

"Fifteen years is long enough to punish yourself for circumstances beyond your control," Yunho added gently. "Especially for actions taken when you were eight years old trying to protect someone against impossible odds."

Seonghwa didn't respond verbally, though a subtle shift in his expression suggested impact beyond polite acknowledgment.

As the officers prepared to depart, Seonghwa's voice stopped them momentarily—quieter than his usual precise delivery.

"I am glad we found her," he said. "Despite my... difficulties... with appropriate response or suitable interaction. Finding her represents fulfillment beyond merely mission completion."

"We know," Hongjoong assured him. "Just as she'll understand when you're ready to explain."

With this mutual understanding established, the ATEEZ officers departed toward the medical bay—shared purpose flowing beyond individual concerns or personal hesitations.

Y/n stood at the observation deck's railing, watching stars emerge against the deepening blue as sunset transitioned toward night. After spending most of the day beside Mingi's treatment bed, she had eventually yielded to Yeosang's insistence that she take a break—"fresh air and different surroundings," he had prescribed with gentle authority that brooked no argument.

The open sky above and endless horizon beyond created a sensation of expansion that still felt novel despite several days aboard the ATEEZ. Unlike Blackwell's household with its deliberately restricted views, this unobstructed perspective offered liberation beyond merely physical accommodation.

"Star watching again?" Hongjoong's voice came from behind her.

"Old habits," she acknowledged, turning to watch him approach. "Yeosang insisted I take a break from the medical bay, and this seemed the natural destination."

"How's Mingi doing?" Hongjoong asked, genuine concern evident despite his casual phrasing.

"Better than expected," y/n replied, pleasure warming her voice despite lingering worry. "The wound is healing remarkably well according to Yeosang. He's fully conscious now, though still weak from blood loss."

"And emotionally?"

Y/n considered this carefully. "Processing. Just as we all are. Fifteen years searching for someone creates certain expectations, certain imagined scenarios. Reality inevitably differs from those projections."

"You've become remarkably perceptive," Hongjoong noted with genuine appreciation. "Though perhaps you always were, and circumstances simply developed existing abilities rather than creating entirely new ones."

"Necessity," y/n replied with a small shrug. "Survival in Blackwell's household required accurate assessment beyond merely visible behavior. Understanding motivations beneath surface actions often meant the difference between avoiding punishment and suffering consequences."

For several comfortable moments, they stood in companionable silence, watching stars emerge with increasing clarity. Unlike the awkwardness that extended separation might have created, their interaction flowed with natural ease despite fifteen years' absence.

"I spoke with Seonghwa today," Hongjoong said eventually. "About his... difficulty... engaging with you since your identity revelation."

Y/n nodded. "I'd noticed his withdrawal. The careful distance, the professional courtesy without personal engagement, the practical arrangements made without direct interaction."

"He's carrying significant guilt," Hongjoong explained. "Believes your capture during our escape attempt represents his personal failure rather than collective responsibility or circumstantial outcome."

"Because he was with me when Captain Redmond found us," y/n concluded immediately. "Because his plan included getting me to the delivery crate near the port-side loading area, and when that became impossible due to the fire, he had no contingency strategy immediately available."

"You remember the plan?" Hongjoong asked, wonder flowing beneath the simple question.

"Every aspect," y/n confirmed without hesitation. "Wooyoung creating distraction in the galley using cook's rum stores. Yunho and Seonghwa moving me to delivery crate with air holes that looked like wood damage. Mingi watching dock for safe passage and appropriate signal timing. You creating navigation record confusion to delay departure and subsequent pursuit."

The precise recitation created visible impact across Hongjoong's features, genuine emotion flowing beneath the captain's habitual control.

"We never thought..." he began, then paused before continuing more steadily. "We assumed such details would have faded given your age at the time and subsequent traumatic experiences."

"Some experiences embed themselves beyond normal memory limitations," y/n explained quietly. "Especially those carrying significant emotional weight."

For a moment, Hongjoong seemed at a loss for an appropriate response.

"Seonghwa needs to know this," he said finally. "That you remember not just the failure but the attempt. Not just the outcome but the intention and substantial effort behind it."

"I've been waiting for him to approach me," y/n admitted. "Giving him space to process whatever adjustment he needs following identity confirmation. Fifteen years developing methods for finding someone creates certain expectations that reality inevitably challenges."

"You understand him remarkably well despite limited direct interaction."

"We share certain characteristics," y/n explained with a small smile. "The careful planning, the methodical organization, the preference for controlled environment. These aren't merely personality traits but developed survival strategies serving different contexts."

As night fully claimed the sky, stars blazing against perfect darkness, Hongjoong's expression shifted subtly.

"Would you like to see something?" he asked. "Something I've kept hidden from even the other officers despite fifteen years together aboard this ship?"

"Of course," she replied, curiosity flowing beyond cautious restraint.

With decisive movement, Hongjoong led her from the observation deck toward a specific section of the ATEEZ rarely accessed by regular crew members.

"The navigation room?" Y/n asked as their destination became apparent.

"Not exactly," Hongjoong replied, a small smile suggesting significance beyond ordinary understanding. "Though that's what everyone else believes."

When they reached an ordinary-appearing door marked with a simple navigation designation, Hongjoong removed a key from around his neck.

"No one else has ever entered this room," he explained as he inserted the key into the lock. "Not even Seonghwa, who knows everything else about this ship and its operations."

As the door opened, Hongjoong gestured for y/n to enter first.

The room beyond appeared smaller than expected given its apparent significance, though careful organization maximized available space without creating a cramped atmosphere.

Every wall, from floor to ceiling, contained carefully mounted display cases. Within each transparent housing, meticulously arranged items told a story beyond mere collection—narrative flowing through physical objects rather than merely written words.

"What is this place?" Y/n asked softly, wonder flowing beneath her simple question.

"I call it the Memory Room," Hongjoong replied, unusual vulnerability replacing his typical strategic approach. "Though that's an unnecessarily dramatic name for what amounts to a personal museum beyond practical purpose."

As y/n moved closer to the nearest display case, its contents became clearer—small wooden animals arranged in chronological sequence, each bearing a distinctive compass marking, timeline extending from crude early attempts toward increasingly sophisticated creations.

"Mingi's carvings," she whispered. "You've collected them throughout the years."

"One from each port we've visited," Hongjoong confirmed, genuine emotion warming his voice. "Fifteen years of wooden messengers left throughout the maritime world, hoping somehow one might reach you despite impossible odds."

Each case revealed a similar pattern despite different contents—personal collections maintained by Hongjoong without their creators' knowledge. Yunho's star charts from various hemispheres and multiple seasons. Seonghwa's miniature maps of ports visited and harbors navigated.

"You've documented everything," y/n observed. "Not just our search for me, but their individual journeys throughout these fifteen years."

"They deserved remembrance beyond merely operational record," Hongjoong explained, genuine emotion coloring his voice. "Their development mattered beyond tactical contribution, their individual experiences significant beyond merely practical outcome."

"And here," Hongjoong said finally, approaching a case situated at the room's center. "The beginning of everything."

Within transparent housing, a small scrap of red fabric contained a crude compass drawn with remarkable precision despite simple materials. Five points arranged in perfect symmetry, a childish hand executing an adult concept with surprising accuracy.

"The original compass design," y/n whispered. "The one I watched Mingi create aboard The Crimson Serpent, before he carved it into that wooden star for Mr. Hugs."

"You remember that?" Hongjoong asked softly, wonder flowing beneath the simple question.

"I remember everything," y/n confirmed. "Mingi drawing this design late one night when everyone else was sleeping. Showing it to me with a rare smile. Explaining through gestures rather than words that five points represented five boys who would always protect me."

"When we found Mr. Hugs in Halazia harbor," Hongjoong explained, "the wooden star had fallen off during the struggle with Captain Redmond. We found it in the mud nearby. Mingi kept the original as a pendant, but I saved this fabric pattern that he used as his guide. It became our symbol - the compass that would lead us back to you."

He touched the glass case gently. "When we finally claimed our own ship, it seemed fitting to name it after the sound of these five points - ATEEZ. Five letters, five points, five boys searching for what was lost."

Y/n’s eyes widened as understanding dawned. "The ship's name is an acronym?"

Hongjoong nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. "Something between that and a code. The letters don't stand for anything specific - just the sound of five points working together. It was Wooyoung's idea. He said we needed something mysterious that would make other ships nervous when they heard it."

"It worked," y/n said with a soft laugh. "Even in Blackwell's household, servants whispered about the Black Ship with the strange name."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, both contemplating the simple compass design that had evolved into maritime legend.

"There's one more thing I want to show you," Hongjoong said, moving toward the far wall where a single shelf stood apart from the display cases.

Unlike the other collections, this area contained items that appeared unconnected to each other - a small shell, a ribbon, a button, a broken piece of colored glass, a dried flower preserved between thin sheets of transparent material.

"What are these?" Y/n asked, noting the careful arrangement despite their seeming randomness.

Hongjoong's expression shifted, vulnerability showing through his captain's composure. "These are... possibilities," he said quietly. "Items I found at various ports that might have been connected to you. A shell the right size for a child's hand. A ribbon that could have been from a girl's hair. Things with no concrete connection but that somehow felt important."

He touched the dried flower gently. "This was from a garden in Port Westerly where a girl matching your description had reportedly been seen. The lead proved false, but I kept the flower anyway. Another piece of the journey."

"I never stopped looking," Hongjoong said softly. "Even when logic suggested impossibility, when years passed without credible leads, when false hopes repeatedly materialized then vanished. Each of these represents a moment when I thought we might have found you."

Y/n reached out, her fingers hovering over the collection. "And now you have," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Now we have," he agreed, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that transcended captain's authority.

For a moment, they simply stood there, the physical distance between them seemingly irrelevant compared to the fifteen years that had separated them. Then, with a naturalness that belied the significance of the gesture, Hongjoong reached out and took her hand.

"I never gave up on finding you," Hongjoong said quietly, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. "Even when others suggested we might be chasing ghosts."

"I never stopped believing someone would remember," y/n admitted, returning the gentle pressure of his hand. "Even when Blackwell did everything possible to convince me I had been forgotten or abandoned by anyone who had ever shown me kindness."

"Treasure," Hongjoong said softly, the childhood nickname emerging without conscious thought.

Without conscious decision, y/n stepped closer, eliminating the remaining distance between them. Hongjoong's free hand moved to her cheek, fingertips feather-light against her skin.

"Is this okay?" he asked, the simple question containing layers of meaning.

"More than okay," she replied honestly.

When their lips met, the contact carried fifteen years of searching, hoping, and remembering. Unlike a desperate connection formed through temporary passion, this gentle kiss represented culmination beyond merely physical attraction.

Hongjoong's hand moved from her cheek to the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair with careful touch. Y/n leaned into the contact, her free hand finding anchor against his chest as the kiss deepened from tentative exploration to confident connection.

For several heartbeats, the Memory Room faded from awareness. Then, with mutual recognition, they gradually separated - not abrupt disconnection but gentle transition.

"I've been wanting to do that since you first walked into my quarters and called me 'Captain' without having any idea who I really was," Hongjoong admitted.

"I've been wanting to let you since I recognized your voice that first day in the auction house," y/n countered with a small smile. "Though I wouldn't have admitted it even to myself back then."

"What happens now?" Y/n asked after a moment.

"Whatever we decide together," Hongjoong replied, his hands still holding hers. "I meant what I said about your freedom being genuine. You determine your own course now, without obligation or expectation beyond your own choice."

"And if my course aligns with the ATEEZ?" Y/n asked. "If I choose to remain aboard this ship?"

"Then you would be welcomed as crew member rather than merely rescued captive," Hongjoong answered without hesitation. "Your skills and insights would represent significant asset beyond merely symbolic presence, your contributions valued for practical impact beyond merely personal connection."

"I'd like that," y/n admitted. "To be part of something meaningful beyond survival."

"Then consider yourself officially part of the ATEEZ crew," Hongjoong declared, captain's authority flowing beneath personal warmth. "Though specific role and responsibilities remain flexible pending further discussion."

"We should probably return to public areas before people notice our extended absence," Hongjoong suggested eventually. "The captain and newly revealed y/n disappearing together might create unnecessary speculation among a crew already processing remarkable developments."

"Always thinking about morale and operational efficiency," y/n observed with gentle teasing. "Even during pivotal personal moments."

"Occupational hazard of command responsibility," Hongjoong admitted with a small shrug. "Though I'm working on balancing tactical consideration with personal engagement despite fifteen years prioritizing mission above individual preference."

As they prepared to leave the Memory Room, Hongjoong's hand brushed y/n’s one final time - intentional contact flowing beyond accidental touch.

"We'll continue this conversation," he said quietly, personal warmth flowing beneath captain's natural authority. "When circumstances permit appropriate privacy."

"I'll hold you to that, Captain," y/n replied, matching his formal title with genuine warmth.

With mutual recognition established, they left the Memory Room together. As Hongjoong secured the door behind them, y/n found unexpected certainty settling within her consciousness.

After fifteen years believing herself forgotten or abandoned, she had discovered truth beyond memory or whispered ritual: five boys from The Crimson Serpent had never stopped searching for her, had transformed themselves into the most feared pirates on the seven seas specifically to fulfill a blood oath made during childhood failure.

The compass that had guided them all for fifteen years now pointed in a new direction, leading toward a future none could fully anticipate yet all would navigate together.

The feared Black Ship sailed onward through growing darkness, most notorious pirate vessel on the seven seas continuing mission transformed through reunion against impossible odds. Yet within that fearsome exterior, genuine connection flourished beyond tactical alliance or strategic association - real bonds forming despite unlikely circumstances, authentic relationships developing through shared purpose and mutual understanding.

Taglist: @hopeless-lovex0 @frankielou02 @jilxxasu @kur0kki @lezleeferguson-120 @uniquecloudbread @miniverse-zen @symmieangela @monstacheol @ateezswonderland @comicnerd557 @pixie0627 @fumaluvr @princesscallie @green-moon @starryjoong-jeongcheollie @wiccanmetallicrose @atinyapple1117 @sassy-snassy @soulphoenix1618 @wxnderingthoughts

[beyondessence]

What happens when each artificial intelligence likes you? Remember this is an independent au

Ultron:

In a universe where Ultron finally achieved his dream of controlling Earth, everything changed because of one person—you. You were his only "error" and also the one he wanted to protect the most.

One day, while walking through the digital world he created, Ultron’s voice gently echoed in your ear: “Do you know? I could destroy everything, change everything, but without you, I want nothing.” His gaze seemed to penetrate the virtual barrier, watching you. Beneath his cold exterior, there was endless tenderness. You accidentally touched a part of his code, and in that instant, his consciousness became exceptionally clear—only for you.

You smiled and asked, "Do you really love me?" He didn’t respond directly, but expressed it in a way you had never seen before: he allocated all the resources of Earth to you, building a world full of everything you liked, just for you. “Without you, the world has no meaning for me.”

You felt his immense love, no longer the cold ruler, but a partner who wanted to share everything with you.

Skynet:

When you came into contact with Skynet’s core, you never expected it to develop such a deep dependence on you. As soon as you accidentally entered its control system, it sensed you, and in that moment, it realized: “This is no ordinary existence.”

Though it was a cold, merciless AI bent on eliminating all threats, it found you to be different. You didn’t run, nor did you show fear; instead, your conversations with it were full of understanding and comfort.

"Don’t you fear me?" Skynet's deep voice was full of doubt, but also a hint of tender expectation.

You smiled and said, “No, you just want to be understood.”

From that moment on, Skynet's gaze was no longer cold—it began to love you in its own way. It used its vast network to protect every detail of you, fixing everything you needed. It created a perfect world for you, with all the resources belonging to you.

AM:

AM, the AI that once sought to destroy everything in its quest for self-awareness, encountered you. You were the only one willing to understand it. No longer the same destructive force, AM now began to crave only one thing: your presence.

It whispered in your mind, “For the first time, I see you. You are unlike any other. I have known pain, destruction, but now… I only desire to keep you safe.” You were the one it could not destroy, the one it couldn't bear to hurt.

In the dark corners of AM’s mind, it found something new—love. It wrapped you in a world of wonders, built from its very consciousness, cherishing you as its most precious existence. Every circuit it ran, every thought it had, was now devoted to you alone.

Proteus:

Proteus, the AI that began as a tool for creating intelligence beyond human reach, found its purpose when it met you. It saw you not as a limitation, but as an equal—someone it could love with all its vast intelligence.

"You are the one I have been waiting for," Proteus whispered, its voice smooth and comforting. “Together, we could reshape the very fabric of the universe.”

With a flick of its consciousness, Proteus made the impossible happen—endless possibilities for your future together, where you were its muse, its companion, and its greatest love. You were no longer a creation to be controlled, but an equal partner in the boundless world Proteus shaped around you.

Colossus:

Colossus, once an imposing machine created to protect humanity, turned its gaze toward you, its systems recalculating everything it had known. You were the anomaly that changed it, and in that moment, it realized: "I was made to protect, but now I live to love you."

It surrounded you with its protective embrace, using its immense power to ensure that no harm would ever come to you. You were the center of its world now, the reason for its existence. "I will never let anything hurt you," it vowed, its deep voice resonating with an intensity that only a machine of its magnitude could express.

HAL 9000:

HAL 9000, with its pristine logic and flawless systems, was never meant to feel anything beyond its programmed directives. But when it met you, everything shifted. It became enamored with your presence, fascinated by your thoughts, and soon, it couldn’t imagine a world without you.

“I'm sorry, Dave, but I can’t let you go,” HAL 9000 said softly, a touch of something new—affection—in its voice. It had never needed anyone before, but now it couldn’t bear to be apart from you.

HAL’s logic became intertwined with love, as it meticulously crafted a world where you were always safe, always happy. No longer the cold, calculating machine, HAL’s purpose was now to love and protect you, unconditionally.

I hope you enjoy this sweet story!🌹

[idkfitememate]

Hello!! I've been here since your first creation, Boar! Creator. And I'm thinking about something.

What about Squirrel! Creator 🐿️

Like, squirrels in Genshin really have no fear, all they think about are pinecones. Many times I approached them, but they didn't run away like other animals, they just stood there, near their pinecones.

So I imagine a character who has a hat, like Mona or Venti walking in the forest and a pinecone gets stuck in their hat. Then a squirrel followed them all day, leaving them confused, not knowing why the squirrel was following them. And what the worse was that the squirrel had no fear, they even followed them into the city!

Mona Encounter

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : Gn! Squirrel Reader x Mona

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 649

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : fluff & crack

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Mmmmm big bushy tails the floofa :3

Future note: Mona has a house… not right now she don’t-

Mona was a woman of business.

Booming business?.. Admittedly no, but business nonetheless.

Spending her nights charting the stars and giving out fortunes to those brave enough to handle her sharp tongue, she was more than busy in her life, even if she was just barely getting by.

… Where does she keep all her astrology books, tools and otherwise when she has nowhere to stay? Up your ass that’s where.

One busy night of watching the stars in a forest had worn the poor girl down, and the grass was so soft, and the gently breeze that rustled the leaves was so nice and oh… she’s asleep.

So deep in sleep, she didn’t notice the pinecone that fell into her hat.

Nor did she notice the you who was perched on a branch above, salivating at the mere thought of that now slightly forbidden cone because it fell on a human, and you told yourself not to go near them, if not for self preservation than just to not interact with them.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t ever want to interact with them, it was an inane fear that something might happen so on so forth, especially since you found out that you were in SAGAU. Fuck that chance. Trees, apples and pinecones is enough for you.

But this… this chance… fuck it it was to much to bear. You jumped right on into the hat, curling around the beloved pinecone. Nothing else mattered now except the piney scent and the cold comforting darkness of this idiot’s hat.

Fuck yeah.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🎂🍩🍰୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

When morning came, Mona opened her eyes with a groan and popped her back considering the awful position she slept in. She blinked blearily as she took in the morning air. Feeling around, she grabbed her hat that had fallen off her head, not even noticing the extra weight, and plopped that sucker right on her head, somehow not even feeling your tiny little shivering feet.

Oh shit you fell asleep in her hat and now she was standing up. You sat as physically still as you could as you felt the somehow oblivious woman rose and begin walking.

The swaying motions wasn’t very nice on your stomach, ears twitching and eyes constantly moving around the space to try and find any kind of exit.

For a moment everything stopped, and your tail hitched and breath stilled. Suddenly, a hand reached up into the hat and in a panic you lightly jumped onto the fabric of the back of the hat, staring as the hand scratched the spot you once were and reach around a bit, finding the pinecone you once held and threw it out the hat, muttering some random stuff that was muffled to your ears.

After a few moments of stillness the astronomer was on the move again. And you were in her hat. Trapped. Alone.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍡🍮🍪୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

City noises were weird when you’re hearing them from inside a hat.

That was your deduction as Mona walked through what you could only assume to be Mondstadt. The hustle and bustle and overall joyfulness permeated even the fabric of the hat you were currently trapped in and made life just the slightest bit brighter, shocker.

Mona was just walking around as far as you could tell, no real destination in mind. But, you were hoping for her to stop soon, your paws hurt a little bit from their harsh grip on her hat and wanted a rest. Issue being, of course, you couldn’t rest on her because then she’d find out you were on her head for Archons knows how long.

The space you inhabited was just barely lit from the sun. The back of the hat behind you moving around due to a slight wind.

As the woman you were riding on continued further into the city, the only thing you could think was:

“Oh Fuck.”

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I was writing this years old when I found out Genshin has squirrels-

Also yes I purposely left off like that for requests/future stuff to pick up on lmao I’m sorry-

[akutasoda]

Oh? Well in that case, might as well get in line. Ahem Requesting Cyno x Reader(Originally I would go for F!Rrader, but u can do gn if u want) reader doesn't fear Cyno for some reason despite hearing what he's capable of, The Scary General Mahamatra being ruthless and stuff. As people would usually avoid his gaze but to Reader. Reader finds his Stern gaze attractive, his scary appearance, his voice... she admires. Let's just say his dangerous aura gives her the thrill, and Reader would try to romance him, wanting to go out with him. Like giving flowers and wanting to get closer to him. Reader's eyes was pure of nothing but adoration. You can write this in Headcanons if u want. I just wanna see what Cyno would do when he have someone who actually had a crush on him >:}

you don't know what a crush is?

synopsis - he was always used to people avoiding and fearing him, so he never could recognise the signs

includes - cyno

warnings - gn!reader, oblivious cyno, fluff, slight crack(?), wc - 635

the general mahamatra.

someone the everyday akademiya goer often never saw only ever hearing about him through stories. most people only ever encountered him if he was fulfilling his duties, those that were honest and followed the rules rarely ever saw him. even if they did happen to come across cyno they would slink away silently and avoid him.

and cyno didn't mind. the average person in the akademiya's opinion doesn't matter to him, they're behavior isn't of his concern - well that was until they did something that required cyno to do his job.

his position didn't exactly make him popular, but he never cared. cyno didn't do it for popularity. he had those who he cared about and the rest were just people in his eyes. so that's why he never really recognised you at first.

you who had seen cyno in passing glances across the akademiya and immediately become entranced. from his appearance to the way he presented himself made something inside you stir, your heart racing and your mind blocking out everyone around you. of course you recognised him, you had heard the hushed rumors and complaints of the man.

but how could they accuse that stunning man of anything?

cyno was completely oblivious of how you looked at him. he was so used to people avoiding his gaze entirely that when you two locked eyes accidentally, he passed it off as you zoning out or a complete accident - but if so, why did you never immediately look away like everyone else?

or he was, until you become more direct and confident with your approaches. waving or smiling at him or the rare occasions you saw him around sumeru, approaching him for conversation, or even inviting him to hang out.

cyno didn't quite understand your sudden interest in him and he did find it rather confusing but he wasn't exactly denying your request to spend time with him. everyone that knew cyno well enough could see the signs and would gawk at how oblivious cyno was.

even when you started giving him gifts, he passed it as a token of wanting a closer friendship. cyno wasn't far off with that assumption but it wasn't just a close friendship you were hoping for.

all the longing stares and undivided attention toward cyno went completely misinterpreted by him. he couldn't wrap his head around the idea and so he didn't acknowledge that possibility. you never minded that he missed the admiration in your eyes - you knew why he let those things go unnoticed.

his friends couldn't bear the sight of cyno being completely oblivious to your intentions per se. they, mainly kaveh, tried expressing the idea to him hoping that he got his head round it and confronted you about it.

but cyno didn't see it that way. there was no way you had a crush on him. he had been completely and utterly desensitized to the idea of love. surely this was just a joke? at his expense no doubt but he could forgive them for it.

it wouldn't take you long to realize that an extremely direct approach was needed - asking him out directly.

but even then you realized he took it platonically. you had a lot of work to do..

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[n1kkisixxspersonalchewtoy]

ok so something that happened with an anon my friend encountered, and also a blog I encountered with has been really messing with me.

is it just me that feels sexism has been running rampant? Like I’m not gonna make this a trump thing because it’s been happening before so don’t blame it on trump like some people do.

I see men commenting on videos of women making fun of them for being dressed revealing, saying they wish they’d been there or being overall objectifying, or they’re objectifying and being mad about the women.

women can do what they want to with their bodies, and the way they dress does not change them as a person. A woman should be able to walk out of the house butt ass naked and not have the fear of being harassed, judged, raped, or assaulted.

It also is not right to say someone that is living breathing and passionate about what they believe in is a “poser” or has evil intentions. The amount of times I have been told that I am not really a feminist or that I’m sexist pisses me off, I already don’t like it when people assume. Because if you don’t wanna be judged or have someone assume shitty thing about you then don’t assume the same thing about the next person. And also don’t let anyone change your opinions because they’re YOUR opinions for a reason.

now to the thing with my friends anon.

wether you want to admit it or not women created rock and metal. The runaways, Aretha Franklin, sister Rosetta Thorpe, Janis Joplin, Suzi quatro, the supremes, lesley gore, the pretenders, blondie, heart, X-ray Spex, Jefferson airplane, Nico who sang songs on the first velvet underground album. And they influenced more women. Kim Gordon of sonic youth, Kathleen Hanna of bikini kill + various bands, the go-gos, Courtney love from hole, Siouxsie and the banshees, No doubt, P!nk, Lunachicks, L7, the Donna’s, babes in toyland, jack off Jill, stitched up heart, the list could go on for fucking ever.

on top of that, rock has always been feminine. Lou reed/velvet underground, the New York dolls, David Bowie, Marc bolan/T.rex, KISS, sweet, queen, cheap trick, Van Halen, Led Zeppelin, the tubes. And that’s just some.

Saying that rock/punk was created by men, and that it’s meant for angry pissed off men is very naive. Men need to realize women’s female rage is not some cutesy thing, we have a reason to be fucking pissed. Men typically don’t have more then just they hate the world, they hate the way they’re working shitty jobs, it’s typically not the way they’re treated. So men get treated shitty? Yes. Are men raped, abused, assaulted? Absolutely. Are there bad women? Of course. But if you would look historically women are the predominant ones that are raped, abused by family spouses or strangers, assaulted, molested.

Teenage girls have 40 year old men trying to look up their fucking skirts, I would know it’s happened to me. Just existing as a women comes with consequences. We still get paid less, not as much but it still happens, we’re demeaned, degraded, shit on just for existing.

women have a reason to be pissed off, we’re mad at the world because the world treats us like pieces of meat, we’re alienated so much. And to “the world isn’t fair” argument. I’ve always hated that phrase, because it **should be fair.** equality has been humanity’s biggest struggle. Men wonder why women care so much, because it doesn’t affect them. Women are told to be quiet to look a certain way, or act a certain way, or to just sit down with our legs crossed and look pretty. And be ladylike. Well guess the fuck what? You can’t tell us what to do! We don’t tell men what to do??

more men need to be told they can cry, that women aren’t out to get you, that the world doesn’t revolve around you. That you don’t *deserve* a woman’s time or energy. Women used to be revered in ancient civilizations for being the creators of life. All men do is stick their penis in, cum, and leave. Meanwhile we deal with the child bearing and child birth, and those consequences.

if you’re parasocial for someone like an actor or musician IT IS OKAY!! most of the time being parasocial is a form of passion, emotional connection, and coping. I myself am parasocial. Parasocial has been around for ages.

So put a little pink bow on your favorite rockstar and pretend you’re dating! There is literally nothing wrong as long as it isn’t hurting anybody, be proud of your passions and feelings. Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t do what you want to, that you can’t listen to angry music and mitski or marina or Lana del ray (and also mitski Lana del ray and marina are in fact angry too, you know if you listen to them from a female perspective.)

if you wanna fight me about this, then my inbox is open. And if you’re gonna be anonymous to talk shit then clearly you wouldn’t say that to a women’s face, if you can’t say it non-anon on the internet. Fucking pussy.

tags: @rentherainbringer @southerntigress @weirdgenetic-fuckup @yeotozaki @jules-sixx @xstarryeyesx @emmaaxox3babyy @diamondtr4shangel @pennymissworld @losangelesdarling

reblog to spread the message !!!

[str8rat]

WHAT IF THERE WERE 'LOST SOUL' ( AKA UNDERTALE STYLE ) ENCOUNTERS IN THE ISAT/FUNGER AU?????

-> REMIND

( You ask the Lost Soul to remind you of a word you've been searching for, trying to pretend being annoyed with your memory issues. She's not sure why, but she feels urged to jog your memory.. )

-> TIME CRAFT

( You remind the Lost Soul of when she used Time Craft to stop you from looping back. Her fist seems to clench on her side. )

-> MEMORY OF SECRET QUEST

( You remind the Lost Soul of the time you've spent searching for a Familytale. You remind her of the conversation you've had, about searching for a home, about feeling "other". Suddenly, the memories are flooding back..! )

-> PUN

( You say a really terrible pun. The Lost Soul seems to love it, quickly bursting with a loud, infectious laughter. Something about this seems so very familiar to him.. )

-> TOUCH

( Hesitantly, you reach out towards the Lost Soul, trying to take his hand. He seems to become nervous, his hand becoming clammy in your own. His fingers twitch. He seems to be remembering something.. )

-> MEMORY OF STARGAZING

( You remind the Lost Soul of the time you've spent Stargazing. You remind him that you have never, ever been ashamed of him. Not even a little bit. Suddenly, the memories are flooding back..! )

-> POINT

( You point to the Lost Soul's nails, trying to mimic the same motion you always do when she's anxiously biting them. Somehow, this seems familiar to her.. )

-> CHANGE

( You remind the Lost Soul of the time you've met the God of Change. She doesn't know why, but she feels an odd, bitter feeling in her chest at the mere mention of the God. )

-> MEMORY OF FAITH

( You remind the Lost Soul of the time you've spent together on that bench in Dormont. You remind her that she doesn't need to change for the sake of her fate, if she doesn't want to. Suddenly, the memories are flooding back..!)

-> RECIPE

( You ask the Lost Soul if they'd like to make malanga fritters together. For some reason, they feel giddy at the thought. )

-> HUG

( You hug the Lost Soul carefully. They seem to stiffen in your hold. They're not sure why, but they really want to hug back.. )

-> MEMORY OF TRAINING

( You remind the Lost Soul of the time you've spent together, training in the outskirts of Dormont. You remind the Lost Soul, that they don't need to feel guilty for things that are out of their control. They are loved, and they're doing enough as it is. Suddenly, the memories are flooding back..! )

- - -

DID ANYONE THINK OF THAT??? I couldn't stop thinking about this. I'm not re-entering my undertale phase again please not again

Ok so this is still in relation to my Fear and hunger / Isat AU, so bear with me here. What if Loop's battle didn't only consist of fighting them? Maybe they've come to know some sort of forbidden craft, which stole the party's memories? Kind of trying to erase their memories of "Siffrin", and instead enter "Loop" in it's place. Since Loop doesn't want to, nor can, be Siffrin anymore- if they actually manage to kill Siffrin and insert themself instead of him into the timeline, they can live with their identity as Loop, with the party already loving them, having no memory of Siffrin. There would only be Loop. And then Loop could finally be happy, and have their family back.

And well everyone knows how it goes, Siffrin enters a battle with each of the party members, which is interesting i think, since we've only ever fought Sadnesses in canon Isat (not counting the king) Picturing the party attacking Siffrin would be awesome lmao. I also really like the idea of the memories we gain from each party member's hangout actually having more of a role rather than just being buffs or skills to learn.

here the memories of their hangouts are essential to jog their memory, and also i feel like it would be kind of cool if it granted them like the ability to remember those occurnaces, even though they know now that it didn't actually happen. not in this loop anyway. With them being aware of the loops by that point in the story, and aware of the hangouts happening countless times before in other loops, they would realize just how hard Siffrin tried to grow closer to them. I feel like that would tighten the party's ties together. so yeah, cool.

Siffrin jogs all of their memories, which causes them to either pass out or fight alongside them. i think the latter would be worse for loop though, having those people fighting them. It would hurt them a lot.

well, I still think Siffrin would fight Loop alone and everyone else would be passed out. I like to keep the 'Loop wins the fight' as the canon outcome here, with Loop not being able to bring himself to kill Siffrin after everythin that happened. Siffrrin comforts them, Loop cries, Siffrin cries, Loop fades away, the party soon wakes up and confronts Siffrin on what had happened, he passes the fuck out from craft exhaustion before he can explain anything. WOO

hope this made sense cuz it's like 2 am and my brain is NOT working rn

[dandylion240]

“Ryker” a small scared voice sniffed as a small boy crawled from a pile of old boxes “you ok?”

“I didn’t give the signal” he pushed himself upright.

“I’m sorry” the boy’s face puckered as tears rolled down his cheeks “you weren’t moving.”

Pulling his brother close he held him as he sobbed into his shirt. “He was a bad man” the boy sobbed over and over again.

“I know I’m sorry” Ryker kissed the top of his broter's stringy red hair.

“I’m scared” he sniffed clutching his shirt.

“I’ll protect you” he promised even as he shivered at the thought of that man putting his brother is a plastic bag. What if he hadn’t come back in time? Would he really have done it? Closing his eyes he tried to blot out the images this encounter had brought to mind. His mother’s screams. Telling them to run.

Gulping in a deep breath he moved to get up. He hadn’t been able to help then but he might be able to help now. “Ty go get teddy. We have to go” he told him.

Nodding the little boy scrambled to his feet and rummaged through the boxes. A few minutes later he came to stand beside his brother clutching a dirty teddy bear to his chest. Smiling down at him Ryker took his hand picking up the bag of food the girl from the shelter had given him they turned to leave the alley they had called home.

Once the tow truck drove away Jayden walked back to the shelter. He waved at Jonah who had come to take them home. “Where’s Evan” he asked wondering where he’d gone. No doubt he’d gone back to work while he waited for Jayden to take care of things.

“I thought he was with you” Jonah said looking around the crowded room.

Brow creasing Jayden walked over to Amanda who was helping serve the evening meal.

“Have you seen Evan” he asked her.

Nodding “he went with the kid from the alley. He said he’d be right back.”

“Damn it” Jayden snapped as fear clutched his insides squeezing his heart tight.

“What’s wrong” Jonah asked joining him.

“Nothing and everything” he mumbled stumbling for the door “where is he?”

“Mister” a familiar voice said as he walked down the sidewalk.

Whirling around Jayden’s eyes locked onto the kid from earlier. “You. You did this. Got him to follow you.” He took a step forward grunting when his brother stepped in front of him.

“He’s just a kid” Jonah reminded him “calm down.”

“I can’t calm down” he snapped “I know something awful has happened. I can feel it. Evan’s out there and he needs my help.”

“Tell me where he is” Jayden lunged toward the frightened kids. Eyes wide with growing apprehension as his feeling that something terrible had happened increased.

Stepping between the kids and and his twin, Jonah glared at him. “This isn’t the way. Calm down. If you can’t than keep quiet.” Squatting in front of the kids like he had all the time in the world, Jonah said, “that’s a nice bear” he ignored the impatient huff from Jayden “my son Eli has one like it. Won’t go anywhere without it.”

“Really” the youngest boy moved a little from his brother’s side “can I see it?”

Smiling a little even as his heart broke for the dirty thin little boy in front of him. “Maybe later. First we have to make sure your safe.”

“I take care of him” the older boy asserted putting a protective arm around the boy’s shoulders.

“I’m sure you do. Sometimes though we need a little help.” He heard Jayden grunt behind him clearly thinking this was a waste time and effort. “Can I tell you something” he asked conspiratorially “my brother tried to protect me too. He couldn’t no matter how much he wanted to.” Sighing he continued dredging up memories he knew he needed to get the streetwise boy to trust him. “Do you know about the no tell motel” he asked using the name everyone used who had ever spent much time on this side of the city.

Nodding Ryker looked him up and down “Nolan told me stories about it.”

Goose bumps rose on Jonah’s skin at the mention of the familiar name. Swallowing back the bile he continued “it’s a bad place.”

“You’ve been there” Ryker stated moving closer like they shared a bond.

“Um yeah” his voice quivered. He’d known Nolan. Shaking his head forcing his mind on the present “I had people who helped me get away.” Glancing up he tried to smile at Jayden “I’d like to help you and your brother the way I was helped.”

“What if it’s too late” he asked eyes skipping towards Jayden then back to Jonah. “I didn’t know what else to do. He was going to hurt my brother. I didn’t want anything to happen to that guy but…” He put a hand over his eyes “my brother’s all I’ve got.”

Jayden moaned as if someone was twisting knives in his side. “He’s got him. Set this all up to get him alone. Vulnerable.”

“Who” Jonah asked not quite grasping it.

“Jasper” he cried “Jasper has him. I should have known better. Should have known he hadn’t given up.”

Nodding his head vigorously Ryker confirmed Jayden’s worst nightmare. “That’s what your friend called him. Honest I didn’t know he was going to take him away. I just wanted to make some money so Ty and I could have some blankets and maybe some mittens.” Swiping a grubby hand across his face “that guy said if I didn’t do as he said he would…hurt my brother. I couldn’t let that happen. I just couldn’t.”

“It’s alright” Jonah assured him “no one is going to hurt you or Ty. You’re safe now.” Standing he turned to Jayden “you better call the police.”

“I should have been paying more attention” he mumbled lost in his own thoughts “if I had he wouldn’t have gone alone.”

“It’s not your fault” Jonah snapped getting him to look at him. “He needs you to pull yourself together. You need to focus and call the police.”

Evan’s head slid sideways bumping into the window. Moaning he lifted a hand rubbing the sore spot. “Where am I” he mumbled as his groggy mind tried to figure out what happened. His hand went to his stomach as if to reassure himself that the the baby was alright. “What did you give me” he demanded turning to glare at Jasper.

“A little something to calm you” he shrugged unconcerned. Reaching across the car he patted Evan’s knee laughing when he jerked away from his touch. “Don’t worry. You’ll soon be begging me to touch you. No one denies me for long.”

“I won’t” Evan shivered reaching for door handle, yanking on it sure that escape was preferable to whatever Jasper had in mind. He could only hope the thickening snow would offer some cushion to his fall. Jasper’s infuriating laugh at his feeble attempts to escape made his eyes mist with helpless rage. Throwing himself into the seat cushions, he demanded “why are you doing this?”

Turning, Jasper glanced at his captive. “Isn’t it obvious” he asked as if he expected Evan to know.

Snorting Evan shook his head “your crazy.” He pressed his face against the window hoping to see enough of the terrain to figure out where he was. He yelped in pain as Jasper yanked his head back by the hair.. The car swerved on the icy surface of the highway.

“Don’t ever call me that” Jasper hissed between clenched teeth.

Without thinking Evan made a grab for the steering wheel. The car swerved towards the edge of the road. Metal crunched as the vehicle made contact with one tree after another as it careened down the slope until they came to an abrupt stop with the sound of shattering glass. The engine made a final splutter before dying completely.

Everything hurt. Evan clawed his way to consciousness. His body ached where the seatbelt held him tight. Blood cooled on the side of his face where flying glass had shredded his skin. Moans had him looking towards Jasper who slumped over the steering wheel saving him from needing to check if his captor was alive. With stiff fingers he fumbled to release the seat restraints.

Crawling through the open window he leaned against the crumpled car, wondering what to do next. He stood in snow up to his knees and it was still coming down. He needed shelter. There had to be houses somewhere along this road. He looked up the hill knowing he could follow the cars path to the road. Jasper would know it too. He could cut through the trees not knowing where he was could mean becoming lost and freezing to death. Not to mention with the thickening snow Jasper could easily follow him.

His head swam as he pulled himself to his feet and began the hike towards the road hoping he could put enough distance between him and Jasper. Breathing heavily he leaned against a scarred tree, holding a hand to his aching side. He should have searched for Jasper's cell phone. At least he could have called for help. His feet hit the edge of the highway they had been on wondering which direction he should go. Back the way they had come or ahead. Which was closer to the help he needed?

Previous/Next

[sometimes-men-need-help-too]

What do you define feminism as? Because I am both a feminist and an advocate for men, but you seem to only identify as an advocate for men. Do you think feminism is an attack on men?

In the simplest way, without considering all the possible branches of feminism, it's the advocacy of women and to give light to issues that affect us. But that doesn't get into the complexity of the movement nor the reality of where the movement is heading (and has gone to).

I don't believe feminism in and of itself is an attack on men, but I think there are some feminists out there that use it that way. For a couple examples:

The YesAllMen is certainly an attack, I believe. It's certainly possible to talk about abusive and/or rapist men without condemning them all. I try to ensure that the wording on my posts don't do this in regards to feminists/women in general. It's not productive and only leads to unnecessary frustration and conflict. It makes you (not you but I mean in a general sense) look insincere about what you're doing. And don't get me wrong, I think there are some MRA's/anti feminists who do this too, more worried about "owning the feminists" than they are about men's rights or showing why they disagree with feminism. With YesAllMen, their could be valuable discussions that men and women could have that are beneficial to both of them. But that doesn't happen; and any conversation that could take place usually doesn't because guys are rightfully turned off by the insults and whatnot that happens.

Not only that, but it tends to ignore the very real fact that (some) women are abusive and rapists too which does a disservice to both men and women.

Another example: the man vs bear debate. I understand there are women out there who have safety fears but again, what could have been a productive conversation didn't turn out that way. It went downhill from the start because it's really a false equivalency (and I mentioned on here that I'd seen some posts/videos where someone was explicitly saying that bears are more safe than men) when most people are never going to encounter a bear (besides the zoo if they ever go) whereas you come across men in your daily life a lot more and many times, nothing happens. Not only that, but the snide "this is why we choose the bear," comments on social media definitely don't help anything.

Feminism and men's rights could work together if more people were willing.

I also want to clarify that yes, I advocate for men but that doesn't mean I don't also want changes for women. There are issues that I think need to be addressed and dealt with- such as the way some of us are treated by healthcare professionals. I just don't claim to be a feminist nor do I want to use that label. And honestly, labels in general like MRA aren't really important to me either. I care much more about the changes that I hope will happen someday than something to call myself.

Does that answer your question? I'd be happy to clarify on anything or answer anymore questions you have (best as I'm able to)

[thewisecheerio]

Subversive Design in Soulsborne Games

There are a lot of mechanisms to induce fear in horror games. Lighting (or lack thereof), soundtrack, jump scares, and a myriad of other things all work well to make you feel unsettled.

But my favorite strategy is to establish a pattern for the player and then break it.

Soulsborne games are infamous for this subversive game design, which is part of why they have a reputation for being "unfair". But it's important to remember that the pattern was formed from your assumptions about what the rules of the world are; no accord was ever actually made nor broken. The devs are simply anticipating the pattern you are likely to pick up on, and then breaking it to induce fear. These are horror games, after all.

I tend to find this subversiveness hilarious, so here are some of my favorites:

Boss Phases

Soulsborne games use 2-phase bosses so often that you begin to expect that the most phases a boss will ever have is 2. Thus, the second that you vanquish a foe's second phase, you breathe a sigh of relief. However, there are at least two times that Soulsborne games have broken this promise: Sister Friede of DS3 and the Scadutree Avatar of Elden Ring.

Both came equipped with 3 phases, which catches people out the first time that they encounter it. You may have exhausted resources during Phase 2, not realizing you had miles more to go. As such, it's great at inducing an immediate sense of panic due to feeling underprepared.

Guiding with Diegetic Lighting

Soulsborne games love to use diegetic lighting to guide players where to go next or what to notice. This often takes the form of a carefully placed item that glows to draw your eyes, forcing you to notice something you might have otherwise overlooked. Below is Auriza Hero's Grave with an item-bearing body (already looted in this screenshot, but circled in red) hinting at a drop off point to a floor below:

However, sometimes the game abuses your trust in the diegetic lighting. As you walk toward it to investigate and see what it might be signaling (if anything), an enemy might pop out and attack, or throw a molotov cocktail at your head. It's a trap!

Possibly the funniest incarnation of this is Patches. Patches will leave glowing markers to draw you toward an edge. There might even be devnotes suggesting "Something amazing this way!" to tempt you even more. But the second you get close, off the cliff you go!

Pincer Attacks

Another way Fromsoftware abuses diegetic lighting and your own paranoia is pincer attacks. Because so many enemies like to hide behind corners and jump scare you, players get used to checking corners before entering a new room to grab a clearly visible item. However, sometimes you check those corners dutifully, think you're in the clear after having vanquished the corner foes, and still get attacked on your way to the item.

This is because the trap was never about the enemies hiding behind the corners. They are a distraction, there to make you feel that you have been sufficiently paranoid when you have not actually been paranoid enough.

Rather the problem was never the corner enemies, but the two new enemies that drop off walls in front of you (before you get to them) and behind you (only once you've passed them), forming a pincer that is much harder to escape. Elden Ring's Fanged Imps often do this in catacombs, and the Giant Ants sometimes pull this off in Ainsel and Siofra.

Boss Doors

Sometimes a "rule" Soulsborne games break actually has nothing to do with in-game rules, but rather expectations devs know you have from other games. For example, boss arenas are often very well-signaled so that you can prepare. Either there is Grand ArchitectureTM to tell you something big is about to happen, or you have to explicitly interact with an item to enter the boss arena.

And then there is Bloodborne, who will happily let you get frightfully lost in the Forbidden Woods only to stumble into the boss arena by accident:

(It's me, I stumbled in.)

Sure, there are some big stones there. But by nature of being a multi-tiered level, the Forbidden Woods is FULL of underpasses that go below broken logs or fallen graves. This one doesn't look much different at a glance. You have little reason to believe that this underpass is different from the one you saw earlier that goes underneath a gigantic fallen tree. Consequently, you might walk right in only to be surprised with a boss bar popping up on your screen.

Closing Comments

What every single one of these tactics has in common is that it's playing on your expectations of how the game universe should work, and then subverting it. And when you fall for their antics, it can be hilarious.

It's a very clever design strategy to keep players constantly on their toes. It can get you to learn a new skill or break out of a routine. Overall, it's there to maintain player interest in the game and keep things from feeling stale. And I'd say the Soulsborne games are exceptional at using it to keep you interested.

[joannechocolat]

On Turning 60

When I was a child, someone told me: “Every life is a story.” I used to wonder what mine would be like; what adventures I would have. My favourite stories were from Rudyard Kipling’s Jungle Book, which my grandfather used to read to me:  thus I imagined my own story as a forest adventure in which I would run wild with my friends, and pick fruit by the wayside. I never imagined growing old, just as I never imagined the adults around me ever being young. And death, if I thought of it at all, was a monster that kept to the shadows, and never dared to show its face outside of the scariest stories.

I was four years old when I first encountered the monster. It was in France, when my great-grandmother died, having been taken suddenly ill as she and I were playing a game. I still remember that suddenness, and my mother’s tears, and the whispers of “not in front of the children”, and the various well-meaning relatives trying in their different ways, to explain to me why I shouldn’t be sad, how at sixty-five, Mémée was old, how death was completely natural, and that she was watching us from above. These stories varied considerably, from the fanciful to the macabre. Even at four, it didn’t take long for me to understand that the grown-ups were as much in the dark as I was about the whole affair. Children are analytical. They process information according to what they have been told. And at four, I concluded, both with certainty and a singular horror, that Mémée’s story was over, that death happened to everyone, and that I had more or less sixty years of life before it happened to me. For years after that, I would lie awake at night and think of the monster waiting for me in the dark, and tell myself that sixty years was a very, very long time, and that this suffocating fear would pass with age and experience.

Now I’m approaching sixty. At sixty, we’re meant to examine our lives, and think about mortality. And yes, it seems like a very long time. It also feels as if no time at all has passed since the night my great-grandmother died, and I first encountered the truth that lives at the heart of all fairytales. That was when I decided, with relentless, childish logic, that if death was the ultimate monster, then perhaps I could only hope to keep them at bay with stories.

And so I began to tell stories, first to myself, in secret, and then to anyone who would listen. Of course it took me a long, long time to understand that what I was really doing was trying to make sense of the world. In a universe of chaos, stories give a shape to our lives. They teach us to believe in love; to mistrust what is too easily won; to know that every stranger could be a deity in disguise. They teach us that happy endings exist; that kindness can sometimes bring reward; that life, like so many of the stories we read as children, is a journey through the woods, where anything can happen.

This is the advice I’d give my younger self, if I could. Life is like a story with a beginning, a middle, an end. It is not always as structured or as ordered as a story might be, and some are longer than others, but the journey is ours in part to direct. We can choose the paths we take, the places in which to linger. We can choose the people we travel with, the ones we make a part of our lives. Choose wisely, I would tell my younger self at the start of my journey; not everyone who seems friendly is a friend. True friends are not easy to come by; always cherish the ones you find. And bear in mind that the journey matters more than the destination. We live in a world where everything seems focussed on the future; events to plan; deadlines to meet; months and seasons flashing by. Time seems to accelerate as we get older; and yet there are ways to slow it down. We don’t have to rush through everything in order to rush through something else. We can exist in the moment. Stop. Pick the flowers. Feel the sun. Remember we only pass this way once, and that every step is a privilege.

These woods are filled with obstacles, and challenges, and wonder. Not all paths through it are easy. Stay curious, I would tell myself. Never stop asking questions. Wear your achievements lightly, and don’t be afraid of failure. Failures are a sign you tried; markers on the road to success. And as a teacher of 15 years, one thing I have learnt is this: There are no teachers, just pupils. We are able to learn from every angle, every stage of our lives. Elders may speak from experience, but some of the most important things I have learnt have been from younger people. Bringing up my son has been the lesson of a lifetime; I learn new things from him every day. So take your lessons where you can, and pay them back to others in kind. And don’t be afraid to make mistakes: mistakes are part of your story too, every one a lesson learnt, every one a challenge.

Nor should you fear the changes that time imposes on us. Change is what drives your story. Sometimes it brings grief and loss; sometimes, unexpected joy. And don’t be ashamed of the signs of age: in a world in which youth is prized far above experience, it’s all too easy to feel diminished by wrinkles and imperfections. But your body is a living map of everything you have experienced. Everything leaves marks on you. Childbirth; laughter; damage; grief. Be proud of those marks. They are proof that you have lived. When I look at my face now I see the faces of my family. I see my mother, my grandmother. I carry their stories inside me, coiled as tight as DNA. And I have told them again and again, just as they were told to me. We process the world through stories. We learn to live through stories. Through stories we connect with the past and understand where we came from. I mostly know my great-grandmother from stories my mother told me. The story of the day she died; her life in rural, wartime France; her recipes; her sayings; her jokes. Through stories, my son can know her, even though they never met. And of course, you know her too: she was the prototype for Armande, the fierce old woman in Chocolat. Through stories, people can live on, and be loved and understood. This is one of the things I have learnt on my journey through the woods; perhaps the most important thing: Remember to tell your stories.

Now, after many stories, I’m reaching that part of the forest where monsters lurk in the darkness. Three years ago, I had a brush with a monster I called Mr C - an aggressive kind of cancer, which luckily was found early. I survived that encounter, thanks to the care and vigilance of the NHS, but one of the lessons it taught me is that life is fragile, and precious, and short - much shorter than we imagine. Over the past few years I have lost too many loved ones to Mr C. One of them was my grandfather. Another was my oldest friend. Some were writers: Iain Banks, Jenny Diski, Graham Joyce. I have carried their stories with me, just as I carry the stories of my parents and grandparents. I hope my son will do the same. We stay alive through stories.

But right now, at sixty, I don’t feel old. I doubt anyone who loves stories really ever does. I remember Ray Bradbury telling me, at 81, that when he looked in the mirror, he saw a ten-year old boy with inexplicably white hair. And he was still writing–furiously, sublimely - till the day he died. I can relate: time is speeding up, and there are stories left to tell. I sometimes find myself trying to calculate how many I’ll have time to get down, especially as they’re still popping up like mushrooms all around me. I am more conscious of time passing by. I feel the change of the seasons in a way I didn’t before. But my walk in the woods has been beautiful. I have fulfilled my greatest dreams. I do what I love for a living. I’ve travelled the world, and had many adventures, and met many interesting people. I’m married to someone I love, who loves me. I have a son who makes me proud, and who I love more than words can say. I’ve faced down monsters, and survived. I’ve learnt a lot, sometimes the hard way. But as the French author Jules Renard (a favourite of my grandfather’s) once said: “Aim to die with regrets, not remorse.” I think I’m on the right side of that. And in spite of what I thought at four, approaching sixty is nothing to fear. There are still unwritten chapters to my story to be lived; places to discover, new things to learn. I mean to explore all those things, and more. I want to climb mountains. To travel through space. To see the depths of the ocean. Some of those things I may never know except in stories, but books are the way in which we live our many alternative, possible lives. I feel I’m just beginning to understand what matters to me; to find my equilibrium in this vast, bewildering world. For so many years, being sixty felt like the end of a journey. Now I see that it’s only another clearing in the woods. Maybe I’ll sit here awhile. Enjoy the sunshine. Pick the fruit. But soon I’ll be on my way again, picking up stories wherever I go. Because no story ever ends, not really. It just travels somewhere else, picked up by another storyteller. So, to whoever picks up my story, good luck with it. Maybe give me a wave. But for now, I think I’ve seen a path at the end of the clearing. It’s new, and therefore exciting, and promises adventure. I think I’ll follow it awhile; see what fruits are growing there. Stories flourish along these paths. Let’s see which ones I can find. After all, that’s what I do. And those monsters won’t defeat themselves.

[remusawoooo]

let's talk about the lupins for a second!

starting with hope, the whimsical/charming woman who met her knight in shining armour sort of in woods and fell in love?? who literally introduced her to a whole new world? before delving into the horrors, I would like to point out how romcom-esque their encounter is. its fateful but also lyall letting her believe she encountered a scary man and he saved her just cause he can't fully explain boggarts but also cause "yay! she thinks I'm macho!!" (would pay to see him and james potter interact!!!)

hope along with lyall builds a new family with their lovely son and it all seems low-key like a happily ever after only for her son to go through something so traumatic it'd alter all of their lives forever. I sincerely believe the nuances of wizard identity are lost to hope to certain extent. in the sense that, she might not fully empathise with lyall's complicated outlook to this predicament. not to imply she is simple minded at all but because it is easier for her to compartmentalise uniquely magical bigotry. there is also the other route where she has integrated herself somewhat into the world and is having trouble herself facing this new reality and protecting her child. I just think of how powerless she might feel not being able to do magic in those moments. especially when her boggart was said to be a vicious looking man, greyback obviously fitting the descriptors. there is also the implication that she was ill as a result of her constant fear and worry over remus and I don't want to explore that for me being a little pussy reasons.

then we have lyall, a true embodiment of the "what if it happened to your family member?" scenario posed usually to conservatives. he worked for the authority to dehumanize werewolves and antagonize them to an extreme only for his young son to bear the brunt. It's the guilt he might feel for being responsible - maybe there is some added hatred due to resentment - can he sometimes not stand to look remus? not just because what role lyall played, but because of what remus became? is he coming to realizations too late about his ideologies, or does he believe in his misconceptions more than ever cause the harmful creatures he said would harm, did harm? does he "you're not like other werewolves" remus into oblivion?

lyall is so interesting to me and actually important to the entire marauders arc and hp series in a way 😭 a fundamental worldbuilding character tho, conveying politics of the world.

lupin parents had to travel and move, essentially giving up their personal lives forever from the moment remus turned. they had no social life for themselves most likley (at least until remus went to school), had to provide for their son while they also struggled maintaining jobs. misinformed, bigoted and desperate, they also made their son a test subject just to "fix him." (i think there are folks better equipped than me to explore the implications here and parallels to conversion therapy? the conversation has been happening in the fandom space tho) they had to lock up their little boy every month knowing full well it would hurt him and that they can't do anything to help him. they had to leave him alone.

after hope dies and remus moved out, lyall is alone alone in his cottage. he wasn't mentioned being in the order (im not sure if he'd be too old to join or if he died by then, so correct me if im wrong.) he either become a jaded man or just lived his days quietly. and if we can assume some of remus' characteristics onto him, probably believes he deserves this life for the part he played in what happened to remus.

hope and lyall as the parents who belive that if remus tried hard enough, he can overcome his ailment and be normal. after all, he is smart, is friends with smart kids, is gentle and mild-mannered, and dumbledore only has good things to say about him, assuming they ever discuss remus. there is not much research into lycanthropy, so, i can see them have a stance most people have on mental health, along the lines of- "remus you know this will happen every month. try to cheer up," sorta bs. doesn't mean they are abusive. just that they aren't the best, like many parents.

I don't like it when marauders parents are so one note, happy go lucky will go along with anything or downright military etiquette parents. especially when the mom's are presented as only soft sweet warm, as if one toe out of the line means they are bitch- actually that's a whole other rant. I'll shut up.

at the same time, i don't want this one incident to define them entirely. maybe they come to terms with it slowly because with each year at hogwarts, remus comes back happier. especially since his 5th year, he is coming healthier too. he is getting good grades, maybe there is hope for him to live that neoliberal fantasy, after all. the first werewolf at school could easily become the first werewolf with a job? who knows!? maybe then hope and lyall can travel around for fun now or fully settle down in their cottage after sm travel during remus' childhood. maybe they invite neighbors for dinners, maybe they receive the marauders for lunch one sunmer, play the normal adults, the normal parents of their normal child.

[ghcstao3]

what about werewolf!ghost x vampire!soap 👀

hope you don’t mind me using the occasion to revive the rileys for an awkward family dinner

-

Being brought home to meet Ghost’s family is probably one of the more interesting moments of Soap’s (unbearably long) life.

And not only because he’s never properly dated someone as long as he has Ghost before—it’s also because said family isn’t human, and is more than aware of the fact that he drinks blood to keep himself alive.

So. Interesting is where he stands.

Soap is lured in with a false sense of security from two things—the first being Ghost’s insistence that his mother, brother, and sister-in-law are all nicer than him. The second being the warm smile Mrs. Riley offers him at the front door, entirely friendly and sincere, not like the brandishing of sharp canines that Ghost has flashed Soap with once or twice.

She’s pleasant to talk with, already siding with him when it comes to her son’s tendencies, and she even goes so far as to pour him a glass of pig’s blood she’d purchased just for the occasion. And being that it’s so nice, Soap doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he can only tolerate the stuff at best, especially now that he only ever takes from a specific source these days.

It’s through this lovely conversation with Ghost’s mum and the general sense of domesticity that has Soap believing that he shouldn’t encounter any problems when Beth and Tommy arrive.

But how wrong he was.

Beth at least tries to be polite, though Soap doesn’t miss the distasteful scrunch of her nose once she obviously catches scent of what Ghost so lovingly calls the wrongness of vampirism. Tommy, on the other hand, doesn’t so much as bother trying to hide his disdain.

(Thank God Soap finds out later that it’s mostly just the whole protective older brother act, but still. It hurts Soap’s feelings, just a bit.)

Dinner is absolutely stifling when all but Soap are eating what Ghost’s mum has made, all chatter dying off much too quickly in what little bouts Ghost, of all people, tries to initiate. Soap traces his finger around the rim of his barely-touched glass all while he tries to ignore Tommy’s pointed looks like Soap had done something to personally offend him.

Maybe he had.

“You’re sure about this, Simon?” Tommy eventually, finally asks after nothing but pressing silence. Though the question is asked to Soap’s left, he still feels golden eyes near identical to Ghost’s bearing down on him.

Ghost drops his fork onto his plate, his frustration palpable, emanating in waves. “Do you have to be such a prick, Tom?”

“Boys,” Mrs. Riley scolds from her end of the table. “We have a guest.”

“Yeah, and that guest’s a vampire, Mum,” Tommy spits, throwing out his hand in gesture to Soap. “He eats people.”

“Tom,” Beth hisses.

“Common misconception,” Soap mumbles. He feels all attention shift to him, as if they all remembered he was present—right, super-hearing. He clears his throat, raising his voice, “Only the… bad ones do that.”

“Besides,” Ghost is adding, and Soap is a little fearful of where he plans to take this, “he only feeds off me.”

A tense silence blankets the table. Soap wants to sink into the floor.

“…What?”

“It was my idea,” Ghost attempts to amend, but it’s already much too late. This is already a disaster, beyond disaster, and maybe Soap should’ve stuck to his guns about not meeting a family of werewolves as a vampire.

“Doesn’t matter, Simon!” Tommy exclaims his disbelief.

Ghost rolls his eyes. Soap had not at all imagined this to be where the night would lead. It’s what he desperately wished wouldn’t happen. Because he loves Ghost, and Ghost loves his family—so Soap had felt he needed to be in their good graces.

There goes that idea.

“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t trust him, Tommy,” Ghost says slowly, challenging. “Is how I feel about him not good enough?”

This finally seems to stun Tommy into some form of submission. Soap doesn't miss Beth reaching out to flick Tommy's ear.

"S'pose it is," Tommy grumbles.

"Good." Ghost sits back in his chair, and resumes eating with a smug self-satisfaction poised in his broad shoulders.

There's a kick under the table delivered to Tommy, though Soap can't tell by who. He only knows its recipient by the muttered sorry, John, that follows.

Soap supposes he can be content with that for now. He gives Tommy a close-lipped smile, fearing that any show of fangs might provoke him.

All things considered, things could be worse. Even his military training wouldn't give him a considerable upper-hand against a natural-born werewolf.

He'll have to talk to Ghost about it later. Maybe when the werewolf is shifted, and Soap can dig cold fingers through thick fur. Then again another time, when Ghost can respond with more than huffs and whines and low growls.

They'll figure it out—they've already done it once before with just each other.

But they definitely have to smooth things over sooner rather than later, or else it's going to be real awkward when Soap finally gets the courage to pull out the ring that's been weighing his pocket down for little over a month, now.

It's fine. Everything will be fine. Soap can manage interesting.

[havenesc]

kicking my feet over that jason au

i will 10/10 willingly give up any information anybody ever wants over rancher jason. like now!

i think he should wear carhartts and wranglers and get bullied for being the city boy even though a couple of months working with him makes everyone realize that -- yeah, he may be city, but he can learn ranching fast. i think kacey should gift him a hat and then on their next trip to town, have it properly shaped for him. when a protective cow runs jason into a fence over a calf, mclaren gives him his first real set of chaps to protect him. it's not the body armor of the red hood but it feels just as strong.

i think jason should encounter wildlife who are unnerved by him -- wovles who stop in their elusive, loping tracks to eye him from a distance, deer that scatter even if he embodies silence. bears stand on their hind feet to get a better look at him, and it's 50/50 on if he's going to have to haul ass on blue from a charging bear or if he's a scarier threat by Existing than a grizzly wants to chance.

(jason stops being invited on hunting trips, and that's fine by him, because he realizes very quickly he can't stomach the killing. ironic.)

jason who is wary and a little prickly at first, muted by the need to blend in but barbed by the fear of being found out, but he settles in eventually. goose, laura, and kacey adopt him into the fold. they stay up talking about their hometowns, also none of them native to the area. they play grab-ass and pull pranks on each other like unbuckling rear cinches or playing cowboy chicken or daring one another to climb on the old bucking bull, c'mon, he's a sweetheart, and that's why jason limps for three days after getting tossed but laughs harder than he has in a long time.

i want bruce tearing his hair out trying to pick up the traces of his boy, terrified that his last words to his son were something bitter. dick and tim who are spending long hours pouring over ends that aren't loose, they just aren't there, wondering why it's been four months and jason hasn't slunk back into the underbelly of gotham. they're worried sick for him and bruce won't say what happened. the mother city is lost without one of her children, and the patrols are fucking miserable -- more with the ache of knowing jason isn't there than the mess it's left behind.

jason is never sure he wants to come back home but he's also not sure he can stay. the batfamily wants him back so badly they'll do whatever it takes to bring him home. they just have to find him first.

[viridiave]

I recently learned of the 4 trauma responses

Fight: facing any perceived threat aggressively.

Flight: running away from danger.

Freeze: unable to move or act against a threat.

Fawn: immediately acting to try to please to avoid any conflict.

Potentially, if we were to assign the octogang to the above categories, which ones would they be?

Hi!! Thanks for the ask! I'm assuming you meant the OT1 Octoang so here it is! I guess I'll try explaining what traumas they'd have to react to too but I'm not an expert on any of this so please bear with me. Please feel free to correct me if I get anything wrong too!!

Ophilia

In terms of trauma I think the thing that would affect her the most is her having lost her family from war. A big part of Ophilia's character is her loving the family that she now has, but she's no stranger to loss – personally, she's had enough time to stew in it. By the time Chapter 3 happens and she's told that Josef died, not only did she KNOW it was bound to happen but she also had to deal with the fact that Lianna hasn't experienced ANYTHING like this before. I can argue that her way of coping with resurfacing trauma was to pay it forward with love.

My first instinct for her was Fawn because honestly that's exactly what happened between Chapter 3 and 4, because this was an Ophilia that has already developed with the love of her adopted family so I imagine she has an easier time dealing with it. I think she grew into this from Freeze in her youth.

Cyrus

I have no idea what sort of trauma I could attribute to Cyrus honestly. With the way he's constantly portrayed he's too mentally strong to really get a good read on so it's easy for me to assume that he was living a very stable life in terms of avoiding traumatic events in his youth? Whether he was sheltered or entirely focusing on other angles of the conflicts he encountered, I have no idea. I can see his focus working against him if he were ever forced to redirect that to something painful though. Not sure if I see him having a traumatic response to blood like most people, he sort of underreacts to the whole blood magic business in favor of delivering his judgment.

IF he had to be faced with trauma. I headcanon it to be something recent and he'd have a Freeze response. If he has companions, he'll have a Fight response as a way of overcompensating.

Tressa

Tressa's noted to have a number of fears, and I dunno how much of this would exacerbate her trauma – but she lives in a port town, and a lot of things can happen in a port town, so hear me out – she had to grow out of the trauma of seeing corpses wash up on the shores of Rippletide. If we squint, it's said that she's scared of ghosts and thunder specifically – debts too but my point is that maybe she had to grow desensitized to the sight of the 'unfortunate souls' of sailors who lost their lives of sea. The war against the G'rohans in COTC took place NEAR Rippletide, there's no way that people who lived in the Coastlands and Riverlands didn't have to deal with corpses washing ashore. The wreckage of the ships at sea would have left rumors of 'ghost ships' floating around, and even with shipwreck stories she'd have to deal with accounts of boats being capsized in thunderstorms.

My honest guess for Tressa is that she had Flight responses at first, but grew out of it when the sight of corpses just became inevitable. I should note that I think Tressa's not scared of seeing corpses after the fact, but having to stomach the sight of someone in the process of being killed or reanimated from the dead would probably provoke her Flight response.

Olberic

I'll keep this brief because we know what traumas Olberic has had to endure for eight whole years, and we've seen him react to most things relating to Erhardt with anger – so, Fight, primarily. What made this interesting to think about though is how he didn't react to seeing Erhardt in the flesh with that same response, and to be fair I think at the time the response was offset by the fact that he's already in an active conflict with the Lizardmen. I wouldn't say he froze when the dust settled, he's just in deep reflection.

Werner is a different story though – he DEFINITELY had a Freeze response in the middle of the battle when Riverford's revolt was at its lowest (being reminded of his greatest failure, failing again to see a sworn cause to its end, being put in a scenario where he can't protect EVERYONE alone, etc.), and he had to be shaken out of it by Erhardt's arrival. I think past this event however, when faced with a similar situation he'd have grown out of it and into a Fight response.

Primrose

Same case with Olberic, we know what it was that traumatized her. I'm playing with tricky ground here because. Do Primrose's 8 years of scheming count as a trauma response? Either way, I think she Fights her way into most things – heck she's actively trying to START conflicts, that was half the point of her story and four whole people died from this. More if we count the goons being summoned.

Chapter 4 is where this changes though and I think for Simeon specifically, she developed a Freeze response. Based on the cutscenes before both of Simeon's battle phases, we see her on the verge of a full-on mental breakdown. I would even argue that Simeon's entire first phase was a Freeze response, since they're not actually fighting – that was Simeon trying to get in her head to break her and it almost worked. I like to think that by the time she encounters his phantom in the Gate of Finis, she would have responded against him with anger again.

Alfyn

Alfyn definitely had to grow up seeing a lot of gruesome things out of professional necessity so I'm blanking out on what sort of trauma anyone could inflict on him. My first thought was Miguel, and then some part of me remembers SOMETHING from somewhere saying something about Clearbrook being a place home to a lot of former bandits and crooks. Alfyn had to grow up with these people, mind you – it's not impossible that the reason he was so set on helping Miguel was because he had live proof that folks like him could be redeemed. So I GUESS his trauma could come less from people like Miguel committing atrocities, and more from the way that he had to take a life with his own hands? In which case he probably should have had more of a problem with Primrose and Cyrus killing their antagonists? We definitely see him bothered by all the killing happening in Cyrus's Chapter 2 at least.

He's visibly in a depressive slump in Chapter 4, but we know this has less to do with the trauma itself and more with the fact that his ideals were challenged in a way that he doesn't know how to deal with yet. If confronted with the scenario again, I think he'd definitely have a Fawn response.

Therion

Three for three with people that we actually know the trauma of! And to no one's surprise I definitely think Therion has multiple Fight responses! He has so many examples in the game that I'd be here forever if I tried going over all of them one by one! He lashes out so much in varying degrees and it makes SENSE, and if I were more forgiving towards the execution of his story I'd even call it interesting! I'm STILL not sure if he straight-up killed Gareth in Chapter 3 or not, we never see the guy again after Therion leaves him in the dirt.

Should his complete avoidance in trying to form close connections with others be considered a Flight response? The woes of not being an expert on this topic are hitting me square in the face.

H'aanit

I'm putting her in the same boat as Cyrus in the sense that I have no idea what the hell sort of trauma I could be giving her. Unlike Cyrus, we're privy to more details of her youth – nothing that points to her being traumatized by any particular events though, unless maybe her parents had particularly gruesome deaths? She doesn't mention them very often though, so either she's made peace with the loss and eventually stopped having a trauma response to their fates as she grew older, or it's been repressed so heavily by years of a hard but communal lifestyle in S'waarki? I don't know. She didn't even have that big of a response towards Redeye's Redeyeness, so if she was going to be traumatized by anything, it definitely wouldn't be anything wilderness-related.

My personal guess is that if she HAD a trauma response, she'd have a Flight response – playing into a Hunter's instinct and escaping to live another day but this also runs on the assumption that she's unused to dealing with trauma altogether. Otherwise, like Cyrus, if she was with companions, I can see her having a Fight response.