#the concept of cringe just. disappears

[bogleech]

It's my genuine opinion that people who find insects or reptiles ugly looking are choosing to do so, even if they don't realize it. If you look at anything in nature, anything at all, with the intention of seeing beauty you will see it immediately. That goes for dirt and decay and diseases or deformed things too, there's beauty in all organic formations. Some people are just black hearted and stubborn about things they're culturally conditioned to identify as weird.

This is in response to a post that disappeared off my dash where someone in a screenshot was grossed out by cute weevils, and someone I talked to on here just yesterday DISGUSTED by..... axolotls

I'm not talking about fear here, but people seeing "aesthetic ugliness." Like hating opossums or bats or crabs because somehow a scaly tail or spooky wing or jointed armor is supposed to be unpretty. I've met people who hate so much as pigs or cows for this nonsense concept. Or snails or moths or, I shit you not, whales. I saw a little girl once cringe at a SLOTH and say it's ugly. If you think any of those sound arbitrary and unfair I feel the very same of all organisms.

An ugly living thing is a fake concept.

[helioooss]

music girlfriend

synopsis: you’re the weirdest loser karina has ever met in her life, but you’re cute. and different. and she might just like you. (loser girlfriend x mean girlfriend core)

w/c: 5k+

warnings: swearing, lots of it; mentions of bullying. like always, read at your own risk :)

a/n: a concept like this was my first ever fic…except that it was way more toxic and horrifying. i’ve rewritten it. but just reading something i wrote over 10 years ago makes me CRINGE

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

yu jimin is a force of nature on campus; the kind of girl people talk about in hushed tones, partly out of awe and partly out of fear. she’s got a reputation that precedes her: mean, cold and walls higher than the burj khalifa itself.

she doesn’t mince words, and her insults almost always land with surgical precision. you don’t cross her unless you’re looking to get burned, and even then, it’s not guaranteed she’ll care enough to react.

people say she’s a heartbreaker, and the rumours aren’t exactly subtle. she’s the type who’s been through a messy breakup or two, you’d never know it by looking at her though.

karina, as everyone liked to call her, doesn’t mess around with vulnerability: she does leather jackets, sharp eyeliner, and a smile that’s more threatening than warm.

most of her relationships don’t last long; people get too close, then quickly realize that they’re only scratching the surface of someone who’s built walls too high to climb.

and, then, there’s you. you’re not even remotely on her radar, like at all. unless you count that one time she stared you down just for coughing in her presence. you remember it vividly: it was a wednesday morning, and you were hurrying to class when you caught a coughing fit through the hall after attempting to chug a tropical juice box in two minutes.

unfortunately, she was passing by at the exact moment you let out a loud, ragged cough, and she stopped dead in her tracks; fixing you with a death glare that never left until you were out of sight.

“are you fucking kidding me?” she yells out as you practically run away. “loser!”

that stare was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole and disappear, and it cemented your fear of her. you’ve avoided her ever since, not that it’s been difficult — she’s too wrapped up in her own world to notice someone like you anyway.

yet, despite the fear and the certainty that she’d tear you to shreds if given the chance, you never miss an aespa gig.

every friday night, you make your way to the dingy dive bar outside of campus where they perform, staking out your usual spot in the far corner with a ginger beer in hand because you couldn’t stand the taste of anything else, but you only ever manage to drink half before losing interest. it’s not about the drink; it’s about watching her own the stage.

you sit there, trying not to make eye contact, trying to be as invisible as possible while simultaneously wishing she would look your way, just once….in a way that isn’t terrifying.

of course she doesn’t notice you. or at least, she pretends not to. she’s too busy flirting with half the room, her eyes sharp and her voice carrying over the crowd like a spell.

your only real friend on campus is yunjin, your roommate, who’s the complete opposite of you —confident, outgoing and friends with pretty much everyone.

she talks about the girls in aespa often, but you never really pay attention because, well, you’re usually too busy trying to complete a lego set or desperately attempting to finish either a boss in wu-kong, or a quest in dead island 2. in desperate times, you turn to call of duty though.

one saturday evening, as you’re halfway through building a lego roller coaster on the kitchen table, zero human interaction, yunjin drops a bombshell.

“hey, by the way, aespa’s coming over tonight,” she announces casually, as if she’s talking about ordering pizza, fingers twirling her hair and all.

you don’t even look up from your seat. “uh-huh, cool.”

“no, like, they’re actually coming here. to our dorm,” she repeats, clearly trying to make sure it sinks in.

you snap a lego piece into place and nod absentmindedly. “yeah, i hear ya.”

yunjin sighs, clearly defeated. “you’re really not listening, are you?”

“nope,” you admit, focusing intently on the roller coaster track.

“can you please get a girlfriend?” she leaves you to yourself and retreats back into the couch, shaking her head at how hopeless you are. “god, this place needs another woman.”

and then, maybe fifteen minutes later, it finally registers. aespa. karina. here. in your dorm. you’re in your toy story pyjamas with fresh spaghetti stains on it.

you freeze mid-piece placement, your eyes going wide as panic washes over you. “wait, did you say aespa is coming here?”

yunjin looks up from her phone, a grin spreading across her face. “finally paying attention, huh? yeah, they’ll be here any minute.”

“jennifer, are you serious?!” you practically yell, scrambling to your feet, knocking over half your lego set in the process.

“very serious,” she says, clearly enjoying your reaction.

you don’t waste any more time. there’s only one thing to do: that’s to get the hell out of there. before yunjin can say another word, you’re darting down the hall, your feet barely touching the floor. you burst into your room and start throwing things into your bag, moving with a speed you didn’t know you had.

“are you really running away?” yunjin calls after you, chuckling.

“yes!” you shout back, shoving random clothes into your bag. “i can’t deal with this!”

“you’re such a wimp!” she teases, but there’s affection in her voice. “you’ll be fine, i promise ��“

“absolutely not,” you cut her off as you slam your door shut. you grab your keys, yank open your window and climb out onto the fire escape, your heart pounding.

as you make your escape, you look down and realise you’ve left a trail of legos behind you, tiny colourful pieces marking your pathetic retreat.

meanwhile, aespa finally arrives. winter, the band’s chaotic drummer, is sprawled on your couch, balancing a bottle of cheap beer on her forehead. ningning, the bassist, is rummaging through your snack drawer like she’s on a mission from god. giselle, the lead guitarist, is inspecting your lego collection with an expression that’s equal parts curiosity and confusion. and then there’s karina — leaning against the counter, looking bored and vaguely annoyed, like she’s too cool for this entire dorm (which she probably is).

“so, where’s this lego nerd?” ningning asks, looking around the living room.

“oh, y/n? she…left,” yunjin says with a shrug, trying not to laugh. “like ran away when i said you guys were coming over.”

“scared of us?” winter asks, looking offended. “we’re not that bad.”

“no,” yunjin adds, shaking her head. “she just really sucks at socialising but once you get to a point, she will yap your ears off.”

“it’s karina,” giselle says knowingly, nudging the singer with a grin. “she’s the scary one.”

karina just rolls her eyes, unfazed. “whatever. if she’s that much of a coward, she’s not worth worrying about.”

as she glances around the room, her eyes land on the half-finished lego set on the kitchen table. she moves closer, her gaze shifting from indifferent to slightly intrigued. she picks up a piece, examining it for a moment.

“what’s this supposed to be?” she asks, holding up the stray lego.

“a roller coaster,” yunjin replies, still smiling. “she’s been working on it all day.”

karina raises an eyebrow, setting the piece back down. “interesting.”

“what, the legos or the girl?” giselle teases.

“both,” karina admits, her voice low and thoughtful. and for a moment, just a moment, her usual cold demeanor softens. “she’s kind of weird, isn’t she? fucking coughed on me once and it just set me off.”

“so you know of her?” giselle raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her face.

karina frowns. “what the hell is your deal?”

“definitely,” yunjin cuts them off before they get started. “she’s into video games and all that nerdy shit. has never had a girlfriend in her life, but she’s gorgeous and funny in her own way.”

karina hums, her gaze lingering on the legos. “i’ll be the judge of that.”

meanwhile, you’ve been hiding out at the park not too far from your dorm for a while now, perched awkwardly on a bench — staring blankly at a nearby pigeon that’s scavenging for crumbs. it was the first place you could think of in your panic, but now that the adrenaline is wearing off, your stomach is making very loud complaints.

“great,” you mutter to yourself, pressing a hand to your rumbling belly. you didn’t plan this escape well. you don’t have money on you…just your keys and the few legos you hastily shoved in your pockets.

with a sigh, you finally accept defeat. “screw it,” you mutter, pushing yourself off the bench. “i’ll just sneak in, grab some food, and sneak back out.”

you start making your way back to the dorm, trying to convince yourself that you can avoid those girls altogether. if you’re lucky, they’ll be too busy talking to yunjin or trying to figure out the roller coaster you abandoned on the kitchen table.

approaching your dorm cautiously on your tippy toes, you open door as quietly as possible, sets of laughter audible from the living room — familiar voices that make you both excited and anxious.

you manage to sneak inside unnoticed, keeping your head down as you head straight for the kitchen.

the fridge is glowing right in front of you, immediately grabbing the nearest thing you see: a pack of cheese sticks and a pineapple juice box. you’re so focused on grabbing food and getting out of there that you don’t notice the figure leaning casually against the kitchen counter.

“back so soon, coward?”

you freeze, and slowly turn to find no one else but karina standing there. she’s holding a half-finished lego roller coaster piece, looking at you with a mix of amusement and something else you can’t quite read.

“oh,” you croak out, feeling your face heat up. “i was just…hungry.”

she raises an eyebrow, her expression somewhere between disbelief and mockery. “hungry enough to risk coming back into enemy territory?”

“it’s not enemy territory,” you mutter, peeling the wrapper off the cheese stick awkwardly. “i just panicked.”

karina’s smirk widens. “because of me?”

“maybe,” you admit reluctantly, taking a bite of the cheese stick. “you’re kind of scary, you know.”

“good,” she replies smoothly, stepping closer. “keeps people on their toes.”

“it definitely kept me out the door,” you mumble, trying not to flinch as she moves even closer. you notice she’s still holding the lego piece, twirling it between her fingers like she’s trying to figure it out.

“so,” she says, her voice dropping a notch, “what’s with the legos? seriously. i mean, a roller coaster?”

you glance at the half-built model on the table, feeling both embarrassed and defensive. “what’s wrong with a roller coaster?”

“nothing,” she replies, surprisingly sincere. “it’s just unexpected considering you’re over twenty.”

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

she shrugs, her gaze shifting between you and the legos. “i’ve never met anyone who builds a roller coaster in the middle of a saturday night. alone.”

“what kind of person do i seem like, then?” you challenge, more curious than offended.

“the kind that runs away when someone like me shows up,” karina shoots back, but there’s no malice in her tone; just that familiar teasing edge.

you feel your face heat up again, but you manage to hold her gaze. “well, maybe i just don’t know how to deal with someone like you.”

“and what’s someone like me?” she asks, taking a step closer.

“mean,” you say bluntly, surprising even yourself.

karina blinks, caught off guard. “you coughed on me.”

“you remember that?”

“i felt a splash on my face you sore loser,” she whines, remembering the day so clearly. she watches you for a moment, then she gestures to the roller coaster. “so, are you gonna finish this or what?”

“i was planning to,” you say defensively. “it’s not my fault i got interrupted.”

“by yourself?” she raises an eyebrow at you.

“by you,” you correct, feeling a strange mix of frustration and attraction.

her eyes narrow playfully. “well, i’m here now. so, let’s finish it.”

“you want to help me?” you ask, genuinely surprised.

“why not?” she says, picking up another lego piece. “i’ve got nothing better to do, but come meet everyone first.”

you eventually shuffle into the living room, feeling like you’re walking into a lion’s den. the place is chaos: winter is trying to balance on one leg while shouting about something unintelligible, ningning is tearing into a bag of doritos with alarming enthusiasm, and giselle is inspecting your lego city sets like she’s discovered a hidden temple.

“look who it is!” ningning calls, grinning at you with chip dust on her fingers. “finally decided to join us, huh?”

“i was busy,” you say awkwardly.

“busy hiding,” karina corrects, plopping down next to you on the couch with a casualness that makes your heart rate spike.

“it’s not hiding,” you mutter. “it’s called strategic retreat.”

she shrugs. “sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“she’s literally just a girl,” yunjin chuckles, taking the first sip off her beer before grimacing. “what is this shit?”

winter suddenly flops onto the floor in front of you, looking up with wide eyes. “so, do you build like castles and stuff? or just boring things like a roller coaster?”

you frown defensively. “it’s interesting!”

“wow,” winter says, clearly unimpressed. “that’s so nerdy, i think i just lost 10 cool girl points talking to you.”

you roll your eyes. “i didn’t think you had 10 cool girl points to begin with,” the room erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but feel a small sense of triumph.

“ohhh, she got heat!” giselle hollers, slapping her knee dramatically.

karina leans closer, her voice low enough that only you can hear. “you’re funny.”

you blink, caught off-guard by her close proximity. “uh, thanks?”

“don’t get too excited,” she adds, a bored look on her face. “i still think you’re weird.”

“i know,” you reply simply. “but that’s kind of my thing.”

somehow, yunjin turns the tv on and you end up in an impromptu mario kart tournament, with winter yelling instructions at everyone like an overly aggressive coach.

“take the shortcut, take the fucking shortcut!” she screams, despite the fact that she’s not even playing.

you manage to hold your own, despite ningning’s attempts to distract you by waving doritos in your face and giselle’s shameless attempts to use every dirty trick in the book. you’re neck and neck with karina, who’s surprisingly good and also surprisingly ruthless.

“you play dirty,” you accuse as she sends a blue shell your way, knocking you out of first place.

“you say that like it’s a bad thing,” karina retorts with a frown.

“it is a bad thing,” you insist. “only jerks use the blue shell.”

“guess i’m a jerk, then,” she adds, not looking the least bit sorry.

“you’re the worst,” you say, but there’s no heat behind it. in fact, you’re kind of having fun.

“i’ll take that as a compliment,” she says, flashing you a victorious smile as she crosses the finish line.

“you shouldn’t,” you mutter, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably because karina just smiled at you for the first time in your life.

as the night goes on, the group slowly starts to mellow out. winter has passed out on the floor, snoring softly with an empty can of beer in her hand. ningning and yunjin are sprawled across the couch, humming some random tune and giselle is poking at your lego millennium falcon with a mix of fascination and confusion.

karina is still sitting next to you, her elbow resting on the back of the couch. “so,” she says, breaking the comfortable silence, “you really like legos, huh?”

you nod. “yeah. it’s kind of my thing.”

“i can see that,” she says, glancing around at your impressive collection. “it’s such a loser vibe.”

you raise an eyebrow. “hey, you’re not the first to say that.”

“i’ll make sure i’ll be the last.”

you laugh, feeling a strange warmth in your chest. “well, thanks, i guess. you’re not as scary as i thought you’d be.”

“i can be scary,” she insists, narrowing her eyes for effect. “maybe one day i can build one with you, deal?”

“woah, okay,” you say, grinning back. “a deal it is then.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

since that unexpected night at your dorm, things between you and karina have taken an unexpected turn. it’s not exactly friendship —karina’s still mean, still cold in that familiar way, but there’s a new rhythm to it, a pattern of teasing that you’re surprisingly getting used to.

whenever you pass each other in the hallways, she makes it a point to throw some kind of insult your way, usually with a smirk that’s equal parts mocking and playful.

“hey, loser,” karina calls as you’re trying to balance a stack of books in your arms.

“hi,” you shoot back with a smile, doing your best to sound unfazed.

“nice outfit,” she adds, eyeing your oversized hoodie and faded jeans. “did you rob a fucking thrift store for that look?”

“maybe,” you reply with a grin. “at least i’m consistent!”

she laughs (surprising everyone around her), her eyes flashing with that familiar mix of amusement and something else — something warmer. “still a loser, though.”

“and what about it?” you retort, shaking your head as she walks away, still chuckling.

it becomes a routine over the next few days. each time you cross paths, karina manages to find some new way to tease you. whether it’s about your outfit, your habit of carrying too many books, or your eternal obsession with legos, her comments are always mean-spirited, but in a way that somehow makes you smile because you know she doesn’t mean any of it.

“what, still working on legos?” she asks one morning, catching sight of a lego manual sticking out of your bag.

“yep,” you say brightly. “gotta build something, right?”

“how pathetic,” she drawls, but there’s a spark in her eyes that betrays the insult.

“at least i’m consistent,” you say, giving her a mock salute as you pass by.

not everyone understands the strange dynamic between you and karina. a group of boys in the football team who’ve been eyeing the whole thing decides to get in on the fun — or at least what they think is fun.

one afternoon, as you’re making your way across campus, you hear someone call out, “hey, loser! still building legos? what are you, five?”

you turn, your stomach sinking as you realize it’s not karina, but felix who is doing a poor imitation of her usual teasing. his tone lacks the playful edge, replaced with something harsher, meaner.

“seriously, you’re still into that kid stuff?” jake sneers, towering over you. “what, got nothing better to do with your life?”

you try to laugh it off, shaking your head. “just having fun, guys.”

“yeah, real fun,” taehyun mutters. “no wonder karina only talks to you to make fun of you.”

you flinch at that, the words cutting deeper than you expected. before you can think of a response, someone else steps in.

“hey! back off,” yunjin shouts, marching over with fire in her eyes. “what’s your problem?”

they all look momentarily startled, but jake just shrugs. “we were just joking around, yunjin. it’s not a big deal.”

“well, it’s not fucking funny to me,” yunjin snaps, her voice loud enough to draw attention. “and if i see you messing with her again, you’ll have to deal with me. got it?”

they mumble a few half-hearted apologies before retreating, clearly not expecting to get yelled at in public.

yunjin turns to you, her expression softening. “are you okay?”

“yeah,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant. “i’m fine.”

your roommate isn’t convinced, knowing you better than anyone else. she pulls you aside and demands to know if this has been happening often. you try to brush it off, insisting it’s just dumb teasing, but she’s not having it.

“i’m telling karina,” she says, her voice firm.

“don’t,” you plead, but she’s already walking off, determined to set things right. “it literally just started today!”

when yunjin finds karina, she doesn’t hold back. “your stupid jock friends have been picking on y/n,” she says bluntly. “all thanks to your teasing.”

karina’s eyes narrow instantly. “what? who?”

“those idiots on the football team,” yunjin explains, crossing her arms. “they think it’s funny to imitate you.”

karina’s expression darkens, a mixture of anger and something else — something protective. “where is she?”

“probably at lunch by now,” yunjin replies. “but karina, don’t just—”

“i’m going,” karina interrupts, her voice leaving no room for argument. she stalks off toward the cafeteria, her jaw set and her steps quick.

you’re sitting alone in the cafeteria, picking at your food and trying not to let the earlier incident get to you, but before you can get too lost in your thoughts, you hear a familiar voice.

“hey assholes,” karina calls sharply, her voice loud enough to turn heads. “got something to say to y/n here?”

you look up, startled, as she strides over to your table with the same jocks from before trailing behind her. they look a lot less cocky now, their heads bowed in a mix of embarrassment and fear.

“uh, we’re sorry,” felix mumbles first, barely making eye contact. “we were just messing around.”

yunjin’s eyes flash dangerously. “yeah? well, don’t. she’s off-limits.”

“seriously,” karina deadpans, her arms crossed - voice cold and mean. “if i see you pricks messing around with her again, you can say goodbye to your scholarships.”

you sit there, stunned and unsure of how to react. you weren’t expecting this; definitely not karina marching in like a one-woman army to defend you.

the boys mumble a few more apologies before scurrying off, leaving you alone with karina and yunjin.

karina lets out a slow breath, her expression still serious. “you okay?”

“i’m fine,” you say, still processing everything. “you didn’t have to do that.”

“yes, i did,” karina replies, her voice softer now. “and…i’m sorry.”

you blink, caught off guard by the sudden apology. “for what?”

“for making it seem like it’s okay to be mean to you,” she says, her tone unusually sincere. “i didn’t mean for it to go that far.”

you shrug, trying to play it off. “it’s fine. i know you were just messing around.”

“still,” she insists, her eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. “i don’t want you to feel like that. not because of me.”

you manage a small smile, the warmth in her voice easing the lingering hurt. “thanks.”

karina looks almost relieved, her smile returning in full force. “so, we’re good?”

“we’re good,” you confirm, feeling a strange mix of gratitude.

and as karina sits down next to you, the rest of the girls start joining in.

you’re sitting in the crowded lunch hall, trying to enjoy your chips while listening to giselle talk about some wild party they’re planning. as usual, karina is scrolling through her phone like she’s half-bored, half-amused by everything around her.

you pop another chip into your mouth and crunch loudly, completely unaware of how it sounds in the echoing hall.

“jesus, y/n,” karina suddenly blurts out, her voice louder than necessary and back to her usual self. “could you chew any louder? i’m pretty sure they can hear you in the next building.”

you pause mid-chew, feeling a blush creeping up your neck. “sorry,” you mumble, covering your mouth with your hand. “i didn’t realize it was that bad.”

she rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of a grin tugging at her lips. “you sound like a woodchipper. it’s a miracle i’m still sitting next to you.”

“you could always move,” you say, trying to sound unfazed.

“nah,” she replies, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “someone’s gotta keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t choke on those chips.”

you catch the faintest smirk on her face, and despite her words, you can’t help but smile. “you’re all heart, karina.”

she shrugs, pretending not to care. “you’re lucky i like charity cases.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

one day, karina manages to pull you out of your room and invites you over at the campus skate park. she’s doing tricks on her board like it’s the most natural thing in the world. you, on the other hand, are struggling just to stand on the board without wobbling like a newborn deer.

“come on, y/n,” she taunts, skating over to you with a smirk. “it’s not that hard. just balance, push off, and roll. even a baby can handle that.”

“easy for you to say,” you mutter, trying not to fall over.

she rolls her eyes but skates closer, reaching out to steady you. “here, let me show you. put one foot here, and the other here,” she instructs, positioning your feet.

you follow her instructions, but as soon as you try to push off, you lose your balance and crash to the ground with a loud thud.

her teasing expression instantly shifts to one of panic, her eyes wide as she crouches down next to you. “oh my god, are you okay? did you break anything?”

“just my dignity,” you groan, rubbing your sore butt.

“idiot,” she mutters, but there’s no heat in her voice. she offers you a hand, pulling you back up with surprising gentleness. “you fucking scared me, you know.”

“didn’t think you cared,” you tease, but there’s a warmth in your chest at her reaction.

“well, someone’s gotta keep you from killing yourself,” she says, her tone gruff but her grip lingering on your arm a bit longer than necessary. “just…try not to die, okay? i’m not ready to be a witness to your embarrassing end.”

“don’t worry,” you reply with a grin. “i’ll keep falling just to see that worried look on your face.”

she scoffs, but there’s no hiding the small smile that creeps across her lips. “you’re impossible.”

“and you’re mean,” you say, but there’s no real bite behind it.

“yeah, well,” she says, stepping back onto her board. “i only pick on the ones i like, loser.”

you watch as she skates away, your heart doing an odd little flip. this wasn’t good.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it’s a rare moment of downtime in aespa’s usual whirlwind of rehearsals and chaos. the four of them are lounging in the practice room, sipping on energy drinks and half-heartedly tuning their instruments. giselle’s strumming random chords on her guitar, winter’s scrolling through her phone and ningning’s lounging on the floor, doing absolutely nothing.

karina’s leaning against the wall, her eyes distant and her expression unusually serious. she’s been quieter than usual lately, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by the others.

“yo karina,” giselle suddenly says, breaking the silence. “what’s up your ass? you’re freaking me out.”

“nothing,” karina replies quickly, a little too quickly. “why are you always up my ass?”

“oh, please,” winter scoffs, looking up from her phone. “this is about y/n, isn’t it?”

her face stiffens, and she tries to play it off with an eye roll. “why would it be about her?”

“uh, maybe because you’ve been obsessed with her for weeks?” ningning chimes in, smirking. “seriously, the way you look at her, it’s like you’re trying to set her on fire with your eyes.”

the girl under interrogation’s cheeks flush slightly, but she keeps her expression neutral. “i just think she’s funny, that’s all.”

“sure,” giselle says, drawing out the word like she’s speaking to a child. “and i think jacob elordi is funny too.”

she glares at her, but it’s half-hearted. “you don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.”

“really? bullshit,” ningning continues, sitting up and crossing her legs. “it’s obvious you like her. the teasing, the constant calling her a loser, that thing where you get all weirdly protective of her? classic crush behavior.”

karina scowls, hating how transparent she apparently is. “she’s interesting.”

“interesting, huh?” winter teases, raising an eyebrow. “interesting enough to make you lose your cool every time she’s around.”

“whatever,” she mutters, turning away slightly. but her attempt at indifference only makes the others laugh harder. “fuck off.”

“you know, y/n’s actually not bad-looking,” ningning comments casually. “she’s kind of cute in that nerdy way.”

“if she cut her hair a little and maybe wore something that wasn’t a hoodie three sizes too big,” giselle adds, grinning, “she’d probably have all the girls swooning.”

karina’s jaw tightens at that, her mood shifting from defensive to something closer to possessive. “she doesn’t need to change anything,” she says flatly.

“ohhh,” winter coos, catching the change in her tone. “you know, i actually heard a couple of girls in my class talking about how cute y/n is. one of them even said she’d ask her out if she got the chance.”

“what?” karina snaps, her eyes narrowing. “who said that?”

winter grins, delighted by karina’s reaction. “oh, i don’t know. just some girls, but they sounded pretty serious.”

she stands up abruptly, her whole body tense. “which class is this?”

“whoa, chill,” giselle laughs, her eyes wide with amusement. “you’re not actually jealous, are you?”

her expression is a mix of annoyance and something deeper. “i just don’t like the idea of people trying to mess with her, that’s all. she’s my friend.”

“sure,” ningning says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “and i’m sure this sudden urge to go find her has nothing to do with jealousy.”

“whatever,” karina mutters again, already heading for the door. “i’ll be back.”

“where are you going?” winter calls after her, though she’s pretty sure she knows the answer.

“to make sure y/n’s okay,” she replies over her shoulder, her voice leaving no room for argument.

the other members burst into laughter as she disappears down the hall, clearly unable to resist the pull she feels toward you.

she makes her way to the building where she knows your class is held. she doesn’t exactly know which room you’re in, but that doesn’t stop her from pacing the hallway, her eyes darting to every door like she’s on a mission.

she leans against the wall, trying to play it cool, but her mind is racing. the thought of someone else being interested in you makes her blood boil in a way she doesn’t fully understand. it’s not like she’s made her own intentions clear, but the idea of you with someone else, it just doesn’t sit right.

she waits outside the classroom building for what feels like an eternity, her patience wearing thin. students start filtering out, and karina’s eyes scan each face, looking for you. she feels a strange mix of anticipation and anxiety, and she hates it.

finally, she spots you. you’re walking out with your head down, clutching a book to your chest. when you look up and see karina, your eyes widen in surprise.

“karina?” you ask, stopping in your tracks. “what are you doing here?”

she shrugs, trying to act casual despite the fact that she’s clearly been waiting for you. “just passing by.”

“really?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “you’re ‘just passing by’ outside my class?”

karina scratches the back of her neck, looking uncharacteristically awkward. “maybe i wanted to make sure you weren’t gonna trip over on the way to your next class.”

“are you serious?”

her expression shifts slightly, her usual confidence faltering. “maybe.”

you can’t help but smile, a mixture of disbelief and amusement on your face. “you’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“i know, i’ll walk you to your class anyways.”

and for the first time, there’s no teasing, no sarcasm, just a moment of comfortable silence between the two of you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it’s a lazy afternoon, and you and karina are sitting on the floor of your dorm, legs stretched out as you dive into a bag of cheetos.

yunjin left the room to run errands, leaving you and karina in rare company. she came over to drop something off to yunjin, band stuff they said, even though your roommate could not be in one for the life of her.

“these are so good,” you mumble, licking the orange dust off your fingers as you looked at the screen in front of you.

karina watches you with an expression that’s equal parts disgusted and fascinated. “you’re a mess,” she comments, her tone as dry as ever.

“thanks,” you reply cheerfully, taking another handful of cheetos. but as you reach for your drink, you accidentally brush karina’s arm with your cheetos-stained fingers.

she flinches dramatically, her eyes wide. “oh my god, you did not just touch me with those filthy fingers.”

you stare at her, half-amused, half-embarrassed. “oh, come on. it’s not like it’s toxic waste.”

“might as well be,” she snaps, though there’s a glint of amusement in her eyes. “look at what you did!” she adds, pointing at the faint cheeto dust now smeared on her porcelain skin.

“sorry,” you laugh, grabbing a tissue and trying to wipe it off, only for karina to pull back like you’re trying to brand her.

“don’t touch me!”

“you’re such a drama queen,” you say, still laughing.

she scowls, but there’s no real anger behind it. “one of these days, you’re going to have to find someone else to hang out with.”

“and one of these days, you’re gonna admit you like hanging out with me, cheetos fingers and all,” you retort.

“don’t push your lock, loser,” her eyes narrow, but she can’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “come to our gig this weekend, please?”

you shook your head - unfortunately, you had plans. “i can’t, i promised mina i’d join her party tonight.”

and within a second, karina inches closer towards you — burning holes through your face. “mina? party? what?”

“oh, not that kind of party,” you don’t pick up on the way her tone changes. “it’s a chat party, we’re gonna play games all night and —“

“who is this mina?” her tone shifts and you don’t miss the way she clenches her jaw. “is she a girl from one of your classes?”

“she’s from japan, really cool and she sings too, sometimes she sends me legos from japan.”

“no, you’re coming to our gig,” she shakes her head, not wanting to hear another girl’s name coming out of your mouth. “and that’s final, yes?”

“yes, okay,” the directness catches you off guard but it doesn’t take long to convince you, specially if karina and her dirty stares are involved. plus, you could always join mina’s party later on.

a strange mix of emotions start brewing in your stomach — guilt, excitement and something you can’t quite name. you’ve never been good at reading people, and with karina, everything feels even more complicated. you’ve never liked anyone before, not like this, and the whole thing is so new, so raw. you don’t know if her insistence is just about wanting you in the crowd, or if it means something more.

you’re still trying to process it when karina stands up, stretching lazily. “i should probably get going,” she says, grabbing her jacket from the back of the couch. “ningning’s angry spamming me, i’m late to practice.”

“yeah,” you reply, watching her as she heads for the door. “have fun.”

“can i come over again later?”

you smile, feeling a heap of butterflies down your stomach. “anytime, jimin.”

she gives you one last, lingering look before she leaves, and you’re left alone in the suddenly too-quiet space, your mind racing with questions you don’t know how to answer as you head back to your room and turn your console on.

yunjin returns a while later, as your exactly three hours deep into disco elysium, looking a bit worn out but still cheerful. “hey, i’m back,” she calls, tossing her keys on the table before popping her head in your room. “did i miss anything?”

you hesitate for a moment, then decide to just spill it. “karina invited me to their gig this weekend.”

her eyebrows shoot up. “and? are you going?”

“yeah,” you admit, feeling a mix of excitement and confusion as you put the controller down. “she was really keen about it.”

she studies you for a moment, then sits down next to you, her expression serious. “what’s going on, y/n?”

“i just don’t get her,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “one minute she’s mean, the next she’s nice. and now she’s acting all weird about me going to her gig. and she comes here to hang out with me but i know she’s a heartbreaker and i don’t want —“

“she likes you,” yunjin cuts you off bluntly, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“but what does that even mean?” you ask, feeling a surge of frustration. “i’ve never…don’t know how to deal with this. why?”

“it means she wants you there because she cares about you,” she explains patiently. “you know you’re a catch right? she even gets jealous when other girls are around you.”

“jealous?” you repeat, the word feeling foreign in this context. “how?”

“yes, jealous,” yunjin confirms, nodding. “karina’s not used to feeling like she’s not the center of someone’s attention, specially yours.”

you let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping. “this is all so confusing. i’ve never liked anyone before. i don’t know what to do.”

“you don’t have to do anything,” yunjin reassures you, her voice gentle. “just be honest with yourself. if you like her, let yourself like her. don’t overthink it.”

“easier said than done,” you mutter.

“i know,” yunjin agrees, her expression sympathetic. “but maybe this is one of those things you have to figure out as you go.”

you nod slowly, feeling a small sense of comfort in her words. “yeah, maybe.”

and as you sit there, replaying the conversation with karina in your mind, you realise that yunjin might be right. maybe this is something you have to navigate one step at a time, no matter how uncertain it feels. because despite everything, one thing is clear: you want to be there, even if you’re not entirely sure what it means.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the weekend arrives faster than you expect, and soon enough, you’re standing outside the venue for aespa’s gig. the usual nerves are there, made worse by the fact that this time, karina explicitly asked you to be here. yunjin’s with you, chatting excitedly about the show as you both head inside. your mind is elsewhere, tangled up in all the uncertainty that karina’s invitation has stirred up.

“you okay?” yunjin asks, nudging your shoulder as you both make your way to the backstage area.

“yeah,” you lie, forcing a smile. “nervous, i guess.”

“don’t worry,” she reassures you. “it’s gonna be fun, at least you’re finally with me instead of that musty corner.”

you try to take her words to heart, but as you step backstage, a new wave of anxiety hits. the chaotic energy of the crew prepping for the show is overwhelming, and you can’t seem to spot karina anywhere.

“she’s probably getting ready,” yunjin suggests, noticing your fidgeting.

“maybe,” you mutter, but something feels off.

you’ve been backstage before, but never like this. tonight, it’s different because you know karina specifically wants you here, which only makes her absence feel sharper.

after a few more minutes pass and there’s still no sign of her, you make a decision. “i’m gonna go look for her,” you tell the girls.

“want me to come with?” winter ask, looking back at you from the dressing cabinet.

you shake your head. “no, it’s fine. i’ll be quick.”

you wander through the backstage area, dodging equipment and crew members as you make your way toward the quieter sections.

that’s when you spot them: you’re certain it’s karina, standing in a dark corner with another girl, their heads close together.

a sinking feeling forms in your chest. something about the way they’re standing feels too intimate, like you’re intruding on a private moment. you can’t make out their conversation, but then you hear your name.

“y/n? really?” the girl scoffs, her voice dripping with disdain. “you’re actually interested in that pathetic loser?”

you recognise the voice now — it’s soyeon, karina’s ex. the one you’d seen flirting with karina before she even knew you, she was the ex.

karina’s voice is low, almost defensive. “she’s not a loser.”

“could’ve fooled me,” soyeon replies, her tone harsh. “come on, karina, you know she’s just a rebound.”

you feel your face flush, a mix of anger and humiliation burning in your chest. part of you wants to step forward, to confront them both, but your feet feel like they’re stuck to the ground.

then, suddenly, soyeon closes the gap between them, her lips crashing against karina’s. for a moment, she doesn’t pull away. instead, she seems to hesitate, caught between resisting and giving in.

that’s all it takes for you to turn and leave, your heart pounding in your chest. you push your way through the backstage crowd, barely registering yunjin calling after you. everything feels like a blur, like the world has tilted sideways and you’re the only one struggling to stay upright.

the whispers warned you — she’s a heartbreaker who still can’t get over her hot ex. and you really should’ve listened.

you’re back at your dorm before you even know how you got there. you slump onto your bed, trying to make sense of what you just saw. your emotions are a confusing mess of hurt, anger and a crushing sense of betrayal.

all the uncertainty you’d been feeling, all the questions you’d tried to answer, now feel pointless.

you’re not sure how much time passes as you sat in front of your tv, mina and some of your friends are on the other end of the screen, but then there’s a loud knock at the door.

“y/n! open up!” it’s karina’s voice and she sounds angry — knocks echoing throughout the quietness.

“damn y/n,” mina chuckles through your headset. “who did you piss off?”

“i fucking know you’re in there, don’t be a coward!” the knocks are louder this time and you’re almost certain she put some cracks on that fragile door.

you hesitate for a moment, but then you take the device off and stand up as you heave a sigh. “i’ll be back guys, won’t be long,” you hear a bunch of ‘ooooh’s’ from them before pause.

with hesitation, your expression is blank as you walk towards the door. as soon as the lock is twitched open, you stumble back as karina pushes her way in, her face flushed and her eyes filled with anger.

“why did you not show up? be fucking honest with me,” she demands, her voice sharp. “i told you i wanted you there — did that not matter to you?”

“yeah, well,” you say, your voice colder than you intended, refusing to meet her eyes. “i had a good reason. i really thought i knew you.”

she frowns, clearly confused. “y/n, look at me. what are you talking about?”

“i fucking saw you,” you clench your fists, the bitter words tumbling out before you can stop them. “back there, with soyeon. i heard what she said and then you kissed her.”

her eyes widen, and for a moment, she looks genuinely shocked. “wait, you were there?”

“obviously,” you chuckly bitterly, crossing your arms. “or do you just make out with your ex in front of your toys and rebounds at every gig?”

karina’s face hardens, her anger replaced by a mix of guilt and frustration. “it wasn’t like that.”

“oh, really?” you challenge, looking her in the eye this time. “because it sure looked like that from where i was standing.”

“she came onto me,” she insists, her voice desperate now. “i didn’t want it, y/n. you have to believe me, you mean so much more to me than you think.”

“i don’t have to do anything,” you say, feeling a surge of hurt rise up again. “you asked me to come and then you turned around and kissed her. how am i supposed to believe anything you say?”

she runs a hand through her hair, her frustration evident. “it was a mistake, okay? i was just caught off guard.”

“well, congratulations,” you say, your voice breaking slightly. “you definitely caught me off guard too. had everyone fooled.”

“please, y/n, you have to understand. i didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she takes a step closer, her expression pleading.

“it’s my fault for believing something. tell me, was there a bet between you and the band too?” you ask, pushing her hand away as she tries to touch you. “how much was i worth?”

“what are you saying?” she asks, her voice almost panicked. “i do like you, way much more than i’d like to admit. and god, there are no fucking bets involved, okay? i fucked up and that’s it.”

“i don’t know if i can do this,” you admit, your chest tightening with the words. “i don’t know how to deal with all of this — specially not when you’re…clearly not on the same level as me.”

karina’s face crumples slightly, but she tries to hold it together. “y/n, i’m sorry. i really am. i don’t know why i did it. i know i’m a mess, but i don’t want to lose you.”

“you might have already,” you say, feeling tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but refusing to let them fall. “but it was my fault for letting myself believe you could like me.”

“don’t say that,” she whispers, her voice filled with a kind of desperation you’ve never heard before. “i like you, of course i like you.”

you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “i need time, karina. i need to figure out what this means for me.”

she remains quiet for a minute, and you wish you can read what’s going through her mind but her expression softens and she nods slowly. “okay. i’ll give you time. just don’t shut me out completely, please.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the days after the argument are rough, to say the least. you do everything you can to avoid karina —ducking into classrooms when you spot her in the hallway, sitting at different lunch tables, even changing your usual route to class.

the hurt and confusion from that night still linger, like a bruise that refuses to heal. you thought seeing her with soyeon would make things clearer, that it’d help you move on, but instead it’s just left you feeling hollow.

karina tries to reach out, of course. you get texts, missed calls, and the occasional knock on your dorm door that you pointedly ignore. the messages range from desperate pleas to frustrated demands, but you’re too tired to engage, too confused to even know where to begin.

“you can’t avoid her forever, you know,” yunjin says one evening as she flops down next to you on the couch.

“i’m doing a pretty good job of it so far,” you mumble, keeping your eyes fixed on your phone screen, pretending to be engrossed in bitlife.

“seriously, y/n,” she continues, her tone more concerned now. “you need to talk to her. she’s been a wreck. a stupid wreck.”

“oh, so now i’m supposed to feel bad for her?” you snap, the words more bitter than you intended.

she sighs, rubbing her temples. “no, but shutting her out completely isn’t going to fix anything. i know you’re hurt, and you have every right to be, but maybe there’s more to this than you realise.”

“more?” you ask incredulously. “like what? she kissed her ex. right after telling me she wanted me at the gig and leading me on. turns out, i was another rebound!”

“i get it, but people make mistakes. and from what the others told me, karina really does care about you and she’s really trying to show it.”

“well, she’s doing a great job of showing the opposite,” you bite back, leaning back into the couch.

“you need to hear her out,” she insists. “even if it’s just to get closure.”

“yeah, maybe,” you mumbled. “can we not talk about this anymore please?”

the next day, you’re in the middle of a study session in the library when giselle, winter and ningning appear, sliding into the chairs across from you. you glance up, already dreading what’s coming.

“we need to talk,” ningning says, her voice gentle but firm.

you sigh, closing your textbook. “if this is about karina, i don’t want to hear it.”

“too bad,” giselle replies, folding her arms. “because we’re not here for your approval. we’re here to make you face reality.”

you glare at her, but there’s no real anger behind it, just exhaustion. “and what’s reality, exactly?”

“reality is that karina’s a mess without you,” winter speaks, her eyes sincere. “she’s been snapping at everyone, barely talking to us. it’s like she doesn’t know how to function.”

“and you think that’s my problem?” you ask, trying to sound indifferent.

“yes,” giselle answers bluntly. “because whether you want to admit it or not, you care about her.”

“i don’t know if i do anymore,” you confess, your voice small. “look, my world was completely fine before she even knew who i was. i know i’ll be fine without her.”

“you don’t know that,” winter says softly. “and she knows she messed up. she’s trying to fix it, but she can’t if you won’t even talk to her.”

you feel a pang of guilt at their words, but the hurt from seeing karina and soyeon still lingers, like a wound that hasn’t scabbed over yet. “i don’t know if i can forgive her.”

“no one’s saying you have to forgive her right away,” ningnint replies, her tone surprisingly gentle. “talk to her. let her explain.”

“i’ll think about it.”

giselle puts a hand on top of yours, squeezing it gently. “thank you, y/n.”

later that night, you’re alone in your room, staring at your phone. karina’s last text is still on the screen: “please, y/n. just talk to me. i miss you.”

you close your eyes, trying to fight the urge to respond. everything about this situation feels messy and complicated, and you hate it. you’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and you don’t know how to navigate it. the push and pull of your emotions is exhausting and you’re torn between wanting to hear her out and wanting to protect yourself from more hurt.

as you sit there, you hear yunjin’s words echoing in your head: “you need to hear her out, even if it’s just to get closure.”

you let out a frustrated sigh, tossing your phone onto the bed. you know she’s right, and deep down, you know that ignoring karina isn’t going to make the pain go away.

the next morning, you wake up with a sense of determination you haven’t felt in days. you’re not sure if you’re ready to forgive karina, but you know you can’t keep running from her either.

you spend most of the day debating when and where you’ll finally confront karina. your nerves are on edge, your thoughts a jumbled mess of everything you want to say, but also everything you’re afraid to admit.

after your last class, you find yourself making your way toward the music building. it’s the only place you’re sure she will be — probably rehearsing with the others, maybe alone. the whole walk there, your heart hammers in your chest, and you can’t stop fidgeting with the strap of your bag.

you’ve rehearsed a thousand things to say in your head, but as you approach the familiar practice room, your mind goes blank. for a brief moment, you consider turning around and leaving. but before you can talk yourself out of it, the door swings open.

karina stands there, her eyes widening in surprise. for a second, neither of you speaks.

“y/n,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. her eyebrow twitches when she notices your shaking hands. “hi, is everything okay?”

you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “can we talk?”

“yeah,” she says immediately, stepping aside to let you in. the room is empty, dimly lit, and filled with the lingering sound of guitar chords from earlier practice.

you both take a seat on the edge of the small stage, the air heavy with tension. karina’s gaze is cautious, like she’s afraid of making the wrong move.

“i know i don’t have the right to ask anything from you,” she starts, her voice low and raw. “but i really need you to hear me out.”

you nod slowly, bracing yourself for whatever she’s about to say.

“that night,” she continues, her eyes filled with regret, “i messed up. i let soyeon get too close, and i didn’t stop her soon enough. but i swear, y/n, it didn’t mean anything. it was a stupid moment of weakness.”

you feel a twinge of hurt, but you try to stay composed. “then why didn’t you pull away sooner?”

she looks down, as if the weight of your question is too much to bear. “i don’t know,” she admits, her voice breaking slightly. “maybe it’s because i was scared of how real things were getting with you. or maybe it’s because i’ve always been too good at sabotaging anything good in my life.”

“so, what am i supposed to do?” you ask, feeling a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “just pretend it never happened?”

“no,” karina says quickly, shaking her head. “i don’t expect that. i want you to know that you’re not just another person to me. you’re not a rebound, and you’re not a distraction.”

you take a deep breath, trying to process her words. “then what am i, karina? because honestly, i have no idea where i stand with you.”

her eyes soften, voice quieter than before. “you’re the first person who’s made me want to try. really try. and that scares the hell out of me, but i don’t want to lose you.”

you sit there for a moment, the words hanging heavy in the air. this whole situation is still new, still confusing, but her sincerity feels more genuine than anything you’ve felt from her before.

“i’m scared too,” you finally admit, your voice barely audible. “i don’t know how to do this, karina. i’ve never liked anyone before. not like this.”

her expression softens further, and she reaches out hesitantly, her hand stopping just short of yours. “we don’t have to figure it all out right now. i just want to be honest with you. and if you’re willing to give me another chance, i promise i’ll do better.”

“okay,” you say quietly, finally meeting her gaze. “one chance, karina. that’s all you get.”

her eyes light up with a mix of relief and something else, something that looks a lot like hope. “i won’t mess it up. i swear.”

you manage a small smile, feeling a tiny weight lift from your chest. “we’ll see.”

the days that follow are tentative, filled with awkward moments and intimate conversations. karina is different now — not softer, exactly, but more attentive. she tries to be less mean in her teasing, though the familiar edge still slips out sometimes.

“nice shoes,” she says one morning as you’re both walking to class. “you finally decide to wear something that doesn’t look like it came from a dumpster?”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite in her words anymore. “you’re still terrible at compliments.”

“working on it,” she admits with a smile.

the rest of the girls notice the shift too, specially yunjin, who seems pleased with the progress.

“told you it’d work out,” she says one evening as you both sit in your dorm, watching another episode of the witcher.

“we’re not exactly there yet,” you warn, but there’s a small smile on your lips.

“well, you’re getting there,” yunjin replies confidently. “and that’s enough for now.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

then comes another gig, this time with less anxiety and more anticipation. you’re backstage again, but this time, karina finds you before the show starts.

“you came,” she says, a genuine smile breaking across her face.

“of course i did,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “i said i’d give you a chance, didn’t i?”

her eyes soften, and she reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “and i’m not wasting it.” as she heads for the stage, she throws a glance over her shoulder. “stay close this time.”

when the music starts, you find yourself smiling, the weight of the past few weeks finally beginning to lift. you don’t have all the answers yet, but for now, just being here feels like enough.

the end.

[bforblitz]

do the pro-imperialist aspects of tes generally come from oblivion? i've only played morrowind where theyre an antagonistic colonizing force, and skyrim where they're an incompetent bureaucracy, so i was surprised to see your "pro imperialist" take in that one post😭 totally agree about the racism though

okay not to go on full autism mode but. this is highkey my special interest so this is going to be a long post. this does get kind of serious, so i want to preface that this is all just fiction, but it's important to analyze how writers' internal biases can affect the worlds they build. and like I don’t think the Bethesda writers are like “graaa!!! kill all minorities!!” in a way that’s different from the average liberal American imperialist brainrot.

TL;DR tes is pro-imperialist because the empire is constantly portrayed as either good or not as bad as the other options + characterizes racial minorities in a super "they deserve to get colonized" way.

Pretty much every tes game has aspects of pro-imperialism (the only exception I can think of is Redguard). Oblivion is 100% the most pro-imperialist, but Skyrim and Morrowind are steeped in pro-imperialist rhetoric as well, it’s just a little more subtle than “DIVINE RIGHT OF KINGS: THE VIDEO GAME”.

OBLIVION

I don’t think I need to explain too much on why Oblivion is pro-imperialist outside of the concept of “the Emperor is divinely chosen so only he and by extension the Empire can save the world”. The only way to stop the Oblivion Crisis is to relight the Dragon Fires, which only the Emperor can do because of a covenant with Akatosh that says he’ll protect Mundus so long as Alessia’s heirs (aka dragonborns) sit on the throne, and thus the Empire’s claim to dominance is legitimized because they are literally divinely chosen as the protector of Nirn. There’s also how Pelinal is portrayed as a noble hero that the player actually “becomes” when he committed genocide against the Ayleids so extensively that even his allies were disgusted (bit awkward if the player is an elf).

Now I COULD go into how Mankar Camoran’s writings can be interpreted as anti-imperialist, but that’s a huge can of worms that I don’t feel equipped to talk about because there is like. genuinely theological analysis there and I’m a filthy non-believer.

MORROWIND

Morrowind’s pro-imperialism is actually quite interesting. It’s definitely critical of the Empire, painting it as bloated and corrupt, but any attempt at anti-imperialism is stifled by other factors.

The Nerevarine is an imperialist agent. Like not “you work for the Empire”, but ACTIVELY furthering imperialism and making it easier for the Empire to colonize Morrowind. I can expand on this on a different post, but the Empire uses the Nerevarine to politically destabilize Morrowind .

The only reason Morrowind is not a fully incorporated province is because of the Tribunal. Tiber Septim understandably did not want to fight three living gods, so he instead made a deal with Vivec that allowed Morrowind to be semi-autonomous. The current Empire probably also doesn’t want to wrestle with the Tribunal, plus they’ve got Dagoth Ur and Corprus to deal with as well. The Tribunal are also generally seen positively because they’ve done so much to improve the lives of the average Dunmer.

So it’s very, very convenient for them that there’s a local prophecy about an outlander hero (who can be born within the Empire) that is destined to defeat Dagoth Ur and the Tribunal. This is best seen in the Tribunal DLC, in which Helseth (my cringe problematic failson) literally says that now that the Temple is weakened after Almalexia’s disappearance, he can better implement his policies (which are intrinsically in the Empire’s interest). The Empire basically highjacks a sacred prophecy from an indigenous people (the Ashlanders) so they can colonize better.

The Empire is definitely painted as kind of scummy for this, especially since they blackmail you and likely Caius, but only in their methods. Yes, there’s criticism of the Empire, but it’s often coming from people we aren’t supposed to agree with. The idea of the Empire taking over Morrowind is only questioned by locals who are painted as xenophobic bigots and the strangely large amount of tax evaders. Or straight up bio-terrorist cult leader Dagoth Ur. The Empire certainly isn’t perfect, but seeing as how Morrowind is a place of constant strife and danger, they’re the best choice for “stabilizing” the region and making it “safer”.

Going into a more doylist analysis, Morrowind is extremely orientalist. Like by the gods, it is SO orientalist. Let’s start with the fact that Morrowind is explicitly referred to as “the East” while the Empire is “the West”. The Dunmer are analogous to several Asian + MENA cultures, it’s stated by the writers they were inspired by the Japanese and Egyptians. Dunmeri culture is seen as backwards (slavery), violent (solve problems by killing people), mystical (elven magic), conniving (bureaucratic corruption and murder plots), and highly xenophobic. Most of the people on the player’s side are either not from Morrowind or sympathetic to the Empire’s cause (whether they know it or not). We’re clearly getting set up for a Western civilization vs. Eastern barbarism dynamic.

This is best seen in the issue of slavery. In-game, the Dunmer view slavery as part of their tradition and culture. The Empire views slavery as a backward and evil institution that must be abolished. Slavery is undoubtedly evil, and the average tes player is probably going to agree with that. At the baseline, the player is already more supportive of the Empire on this issue because their position reflects our irl values. The primary pro-slavery House is Telvanni, who are arrogant, “crazy” xenophobes. Telvanni is also extremely anti-Empire, and there are many instances where violence is literally just the only answer to problems. The primary anti-slavery House is Hlaalu, who are hypocritical, conniving opportunists. Hlaalu is pro-Empire, but only for their own economical reasons, so they don’t come out of this looking very good either. The writing on the wall is “this culture is so inherently violent and primitive that those who are against this great civilizing force hate us because of we’re bringing progress and those who are with us are doing so because they have no loyalty and are willing to betray their own kind”. Textbook orientalism.

This isn’t even talking about how in Bloodmoon you literally can found a colony, or how the Dunmer traditionally worship the “demonic” Daedra, or how living in an inhospitable place and being violent partly because of that is literally how people talk about MENA people. There is so much that could be said about how Morrowind is pro-imperialist, but I don’t want to ramble for too long.

SKYRIM

Skyrim is, in my opinion, the writers’ attempt at writing something anti-imperial that just ends up being imperialist because they don’t understand how anti-imperialism works. There is, again, a lot to talk about that I can make a separate post on, but I’ll be going over what I think is the most notable examples.

Let’s start with the Empire. Again, the Empire is NOT painted in a good light. But it is kind of telling that most people agree that they're the better of the two options because at least they aren't ethnonationalists, they're only oppressive imperialists. Kinda racist, but at least not as racist?

In my opinion, the Stormcloaks are more interesting when it comes to analyzing Skyrim as pro-imperialism.

First off, we can’t ignore the fact the Stormcloaks are white. Like THE whitest race in tes, PASTY white. They also have that christianized version of the Viking aesthetic going on (@trickstarbrave has a great post about this). They’re literally called the STORMcloaks. They’re based in Racism, the City. They are literally ethnonationalist white supremacists, and I think it’s kind of fucked up that their ideology is treated as a valid way to rule a country.

Similarly, the main negative of the Stormcloaks is the racism. But that really isn’t a negative for people who like them. At best, it’s something they can downplay (not to call anyone out but I’ve seen fics where the author explicitly says their version of the Stormcloaks is “less racist”). At worst, it’s the reason they like them. The portrayal of racism in Skyrim is also cartoonishly hamfisted and inaccurate. The other negative is them not being able to defend Skyrim against the Thalmor, but I'll go into this later.

It's also important to point out that the Stormcloaks' whole thing is that they want to rule Skyrim independent from the Empire because it's their homeland and they don't want the man to tell them what to do. However, in the lore, the Nords stole Skyrim from the Snow Elves, who they proceeded to genocide and enslave (reminder that Windhelm was built by Snow Elf slaves). This is literally the same dynamic as "the white colonists of the U.S. wanted to rule themselves because it's their land, don't ask about the people that have been living here for thousands of years".

The anti-indigenous rhetoric is RAMPANT in Skyrim, and I don't think I need to explain how imperialism begets it. The Snow Elves are said to be dead and gone, which falls into the trope of indigenous people being in the past and not existing in the present. But more importantly, THEY'RE LITERALLY STILL THERE. The Falmer are painted as mindless beasts, but they clearly have culture. They've domesticated Chaurus, they've built their own homes, they have some type of religious structure. They're people that are understandably scared of outsiders who are invading their home, which is why they attack anyone who wanders too close. Again, painting an indigenous group as "mindless savages with no culture who kill innocent people and steal babies" is like THE trick in the anti-indigenous, racist playbook.

The Reachfolk aren't treated any better either. The Forsworn is a group fighting against the people who stole their land, genocided them, and threw them in a labor camp. They are by all rights in the moral good here, but the writers have tacked on very questionable things. They have demonic, Daedric rituals where they transform their own into evil crones and mindless warriors. They wear little to no clothes to represent their "wild" nature. They're bandits who attack innocents and pillage the "civilized". Truly the ONLY quest in Skyrim that isn't about how much we fucking hate indigenous people is the Forsworn Conspiracy, and even then Madanach compromises his own values in collaboration with the Nords. At the end of the day, the Nords are portrayed as the best option for keeping Skyrim at peace. They are in the right for driving the Reachfolk and Falmer off their land.

We have now reached the point where I say probably my most controversial tes lore opinion: I'm pro-Thalmor but for a very specific meta analysis reason. I promise I do NOT like fascism or racism.

The Thalmor being fascistic ethnonationalist who manipulate 4E politics from the shadows is reflective of the writer’s pro-imperialist views and actively deploys anti-semetic + sinophobic tropes. Stripping things of their weird racist tes context: the Thalmor are a political group that rose up against a colonial power that genocided their race. They came to their peoples’ aid during one of the most horrific tragedy when the colonial power could not, and They are actively supporting other colonized peoples to fight against their oppressors (reminder that the writers felt like it was okay to say the Thalmor were behind the Argonian invasion of Morrowind).

How the Thalmor are portrayed in Skyrim is truly fucking terrible. They want to genocide the humans simply because they think they're better than them. They want to get rid of Talos worship because they simply can't accept that a human could ever ascend to godhood. They want to destroy human culture because it is inferior to their own. They are manipulating the scene, they control the Imperial government, which is ineffective and bending to their whims. They're doing evil against humans and the Empire.

I need to stress that the Altmer are in some parts inspired by East Asian cultures (the old Altmer art is literally holding a katana while wearing a shitty recreation of traditional Japanese wear), particularly the Chinese. In fact, ALL of the non-human races are based on BIPOC cultures. Combined with what I said in the previous paragraph, what does that say?

The minorities DO hate us. The minorities WILL form a coalition to destroy us. The minorities DO control everything and want to eradicate us and our culture. The minorities DO want revenge. They are a faceless hoard, a force of brutal and manipulative power that we know nothing about except for the fact that they hate us. They are lying in wait to strike when we are weak. And if we don't get rid of them first, they will do EXACTLY what we did to them.

THAT is exactly how fascism frames its victims. They are weak, but they are strong. They hate us, so we must hate them. If we win, we will return to our former glory and rule the world as its rightful kings. And if we lose?

They will exterminate us.

Now, giving them the benefit of the doubt, I don't think the people at Bethesda are like. consciously into killing minorities. I think this is just the product of that particular flavor of imperialist, borderline fascistic brainrot that every American has (source: I'm an American and I absolutely unconsciously held similar views, even as a POC). Then again, that’s like basically the same thing.

It's really hard to watch people just NOT understand that writers' conscious and unconscious biases affect their writing. I ultimately torture myself by deeply loving this series, and I don't expect people to like suddenly start hating it because it's problematic in the way 99% of fantasy and sci-fi media is.

so yeah. that's the condensed version of my opinion.

[eddiemunsonspantschain]

The key is... - E.M

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word Count: 7.5 k

Warnings: Extreme pining, kissing, handjob, oral (m&f recieving), spit kink, Reader swallows, choking, not fully proofread and edited (Sorry)

Description: Eddie and reader attend a key party

Dividers from @strangergraphics (I follow your main, hi! hope you don't mind me actually tagging you on this)

Tags: I know I've been MIA for a long time so idk if anyone wants to be tagged or not but @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly

The concept of a key party almost felt ridiculous. The only time you had heard about something like this was in tv shows and movies. Usually for older people too. You and all your friends were in your early to mid-twenties. Something about the party felt juvinial too. A handful of your friends dragged you there, promising it would be fun.

As soon as you got there you searched out the drink station. If you were going to even attempt this, you needed a drink. After grabbing the traditional red solo cup, you poured yourself a drink and took a large gulp. You cringed at the barely cold alcohol, the ice you tossed in not having time to really cool the drink.

"Ahem,"

You turned, shoulders sagging at the person in front of you. Heather grinned, holding a large glass bowl full of car keys. She gently shook the bowl at you, making the metal keys clink against the glass. "Don't think I idn't notice you try and hide in here. Keys, please!" she giggled, holding the bowl out to you. "It's required for the party. You know the rules. I made sure everyone knew the rules."

"Heather," you groaned, trying to give your best puppy dog eyes, but the young woman shook her head.

"Re-qui-ered," she shook the bowl again. "Look, even if your key gets picked and you head out with someone, you aren't required to do much. Remember the rules I laid out. At minimum, a little date! At most... well, that's up to you two." she giggled, a gentle smile on her face.

"A little date? Why?" you questioned, wondering why that was even made a requirement in the first place.

"Yes. And you both have to corraborate that you at least went and did something. I decided that cause this is a Valentines Day key party after all," Heather explained, "I assume since you're here that you don't have a Valentine."

Your shoulders sag. "You're right. I've never had one before, honestly. I... hate the holiday. Hence, this," you admitted quietly, holding up your cup before taking a swig again with a wince.

"You aren't the only one here who's said that to me. You never know. You might like who you get." Once again, Heather shook the bowl. "Keys?"

You sigh, reaching into your jacket pocket and fishing out your keys. A skull keychain was the only thing adorning your keys. You dropped the keys into the bowl. "There, my ticket is in."

"Perfect!" Heather held the bowl with one hand, using her other to mix the keys around so yours disappeared into the pile. "We'll be starting soon. Report to the living room in about thirty minutes!" With that, Heather turned and disappeared to harrass other party goers for their keys.

Just as Heather promised, thirty minutes later everyone still there participating was called to the living room. There seemed to be some keys missing from the bowl, probably people who paired up before the drawing even happened. The mix of people in the room was interesting. Young adults from all over Hawkins from different cliques from back in school, even some individuals back from college for a time.

"Hello everyone! Thanks for coming to my little get together where I hope some of you guys get together!" Heather grinned with a wink. "So, the way this goes is simple. A volunteer comes up, picks out a key, and they go with the key owner. At minimum, you guys go on a little date. Can be to grab a bite to eat, a skinny dip in lovers lake, or hell even just a walk together. At most, you can do whatever you both want to each other. Consensually. Don't be a prick." Heather explained, looking around the room. "Okay, who's going first?"

"I'll do it." Steve got up from his seat, not to anyone's surprise.

"Shocker, Dingus." Robin laughed, shaking her head at him.

Steve approached the bowl, sticking his hand in and fishing around as he looked up at the ceiling. He pulled a set of keys out, a tiny heart keychain hanging from the ring alongside a large flower keychain of a daisy. He turned, showing the keys to the room.

A small voice spoke up from the couch. "Uh, those are mine..." Chrissy held her hand up. She set her beer on the coffee table, standing up and scooting past her friends to Steve.

"Ready to head outta here?" Steve asked with a smile, handing the girl her keys back.

A light blush dusted over the strawberry blonde's cheeks. "Yeah, yeah!" she nodded, grabbing her purse and jacket before the two left for the night.

"Perfect! Who's next?" Heather grinned, shaking the bowl of keys.

A few more people picked out keys, making the pickings smaller and smaller. Then there were no more volunteers. Heather looked around the room and hummed. "If no one is gunna volunteer then I'm gonna start calling people out," she warned, surverying the remaining partiers. After a moment of silence, she decided it was enough. "Munson!" Heather grinned, holding out the bowl. "Come pick."

Everyone looked at Eddie. A few party goers whispered and snickered to one another. You rolled your eyes. You guys had all been out of high school for a few years now, yet it seemed some people couldn't grow up. For a moment, it seemed like Eddie was going to wuss out. Instead, he tossed back what was left in his cup before setting it aside. He walked up to the bowl and stuck his hand in. Clinking was heard but you weren't sure if it was the keys moving around or his rings hitting all the other metal.

Eddie finally picked his keys, turning and holding up a set of keys... with a skull keychain on it. Heather looked at you and grinned, the others glancing at one another for a moment as they didn't know whose keys they were.

"Robin, don't tell me these are yours." Eddie laughed, eyeing his grinning friend.

"Oh no, those have car keys on them. I don't drive, remember? Guess again!" Robin laughed with a shake of her head.

"Actually, those are mine." you spoke up, stepping away from the wall and towards the metalhead. You held your hand out patiently for your keys.

"You up for this?" Eddie asked, dropping your keys into your palm.

"Rules are rules. Let's go?" you turned, heading towards the door.

Now, you weren't afraid of Eddie. You never took anything anyone said about him seriously. It was all just judgemental bullshit. He didn't fit the mold they wanted, so naturally they thought something was wrong with him. You never did. A nerd? Sure, but there wasn't anything wrong with that. You found it cute, actually. Especially when Robin would tell you about their latest 'nerd-scapades' as she called them. Eddie did make you nervous though. He's handsome. Incredibly handsome, adorable, hot. It was never something you thought about persuing though. You assumed you weren't his type and that if he had any interest, he would have made a move. It wasn't like you both didn't know one another. You did through your mutual friendship with Robin from band and with Nancy on the school paper when you all attended together. You had also spoken to him yourself before, when he checked out books at the library in high school. You had helped with sorting book returns and had talked about books with Eddie before.

As soon as you both got outside, Eddie headed for his van. You followed behind him since your friends had driven you all there. "I can drop you at home." Eddie finally spoke, making you stop in your tracks.

"What?" Was he serious?

"I said, I can drop you off at home. Your friends drove, right?" Eddie looked at you, a brow raised.

"Well, yeah, they did but what about our date?" you asked, now even more confused.

"Oh, that," Eddie chuckled, "I figured we'd just make something up. I take you home, we tell Heather that we... I dunno, watched a movie or something and that's it. No biggie."

"No biggie?" you scoffed, hands finding home on your hips as you stared at him.

"Shit, I said something wrong didn't I?"

You felt a pang of irritation. "Look, I know I'm no Chrissy Cunningham or Heather for that matter, but if you really didn't wanna go on a date with me at least say so?" you turned away from Eddie, heading towards the direction of your house.

"That isn't what I meant!" Eddie called out to you, but you kept walking. You heard his boots crunching on the asphalt as he ran to catch up to you. "I assumed, okay? Will you stop walking?"

"You know what they say when you assume..." you murmured, trying to ignore him.

"You make an ass out of you and me," he finished.

"That's how it goes but this time, just you."

"Bunny, please."

You stopped in your tracks and turned to look at him. "Bunny?" you ask.

Eddie smirks, feeling victorious he got your attention. "Yeah, it's cute." he shrugged, "Will you come back to the van?"

You stared at him for a moment, silence stretched between you. "I want french fries." you demanded, starting back towards his van. You heard him following after you and when you got to the van you climbed into his passenger seat.

The van itself was messy, but then again so was your car. Similarly to yours, Eddie had random receipts and other papers tossed down onto the floor of the passenger side. A couple random items tossed around the center console ranging from a pack of cigarettes to a couple of loose dice. As Eddie climbed in to join you, the whole van shook with the force of him closing his door. "Fries, huh?" Eddie asked and you nodded.

"Fries and a soda. It's all I ask, then you can take me home if you really want to," you answer, buckling up. You didn't flinch as Eddie's music blased through the stereo once the car was on, watching him turn the dial down anyway before pulling away from Heather's house.

The diner was a little more busy than usual, probably considering the holiday. You slid into a booth across from Eddie, not bothering with the menu. Eddie didn't pick one up either. A waiter was there quickly, asking what you both wanted.

"A Coke and some fries, please," you ordered with a small smile.

"A burger combo with a Coke," Eddie ordered, a set of straw being dropped onto the table once your orders were scribbled down and then the waiter was gone. "Surprised you don't have a date already." Eddie finally spoke up after a few minutes.

You picked up your straw, starting to strip the paper off of it when he spoke. "You need someone to like you to have a date, Eddie." you chuckle, balling up the paper from your straw and flicking it towards him.

Eddie reached out, flicking the paper ball back at you. "I'm sure plenty of people like you, bunny." he murmured.

You raised a brow, making binoculars with your hands and holding them up to your eyes.

"What're you doing?" Eddie laughed.

"Oh, I'm looking for the people who said they liked me. Cause I sure as hell can't find 'em." you said, looking around the diner like that.

"Well I know one for sure." Eddie shrugged.

You dropped your hands, brows furrowed as you looked at him. "Who?" you ask, but he shakes his head. "Eddie!"

"I'm not giving it up that easily." he laughed, "you at least are getting food with me, that's a start. I expect this information to gently be coaxed from me."

"You're a dork."

"Yes, I am." Eddie grinned, "Tell you what, you come back to the trailer with me to watch a movie, like I said we were fake going to... and then I'll tell you."

You watched him for a moment, tilting your head to the side. "What's in it for you?" you ask, just as your sodas as placed down. You stick your straw into the sugary drink and take a sip, savoring it more than the cocktail at the party. If you could call it that.

"You'll find out." Eddie murmured, taking a sip of his drink.

It didn't take long for you both to eat your food. You would've thought Eddie hadn't eaten all day the way he inhaled a burger. You finished your fries in a timely manner before trying to pay for the food. Eddie protested, trying to snatch the bill from you.

"You're hosting the movies and, I assume, drinks and snacks for it. So I'm getting this!" you argue, slipping a few bills into the leather folder and holding it away from Eddie's reach.

"I don't have much at home, so we'll stop at a gas station or something. Brat." Eddie mumbled, but a soft smile was spread over his lips.

You both returned to his van, only driving a few minutes before stopping at a convenience store. You immediately gravitated to the candy aisle. "Eddie, what's your favorite?" you call out to him.

"Anything chocolate, but also red licorice!" he called back from somewhere in the store. "Favorite drink?" he called back.

"Cherry Coke!" you call out, grabbing a bag of M&M's. You also grabbed some Red Vines, Milk Duds, gummy bears and stovetop popcorn.

Eddie came around the corner of the aisle, carrying a bottle of cherry Coke for you and some Sprite. "Think we got a good enough spread?" he chuckled, eyeing your full arms.

"Yes, yes I do. We're gonna have a sugar rush." you laugh, heading for the counter. You sat all the candy down, nudging Eddie when he stopped beside you and put the sodas on the counter. The clerk started to ring them up, eyeing the assortment of candy. You looked around, taking in all the advertisements.

Eddie reached into a bin beside him on the floor, flowers sticking out of it for the holiday. He pulled out a singular wrapped rose, placing it on the counter. The candy and soda was bagged up, Eddie handing a few bills over as you grabbed the bags. You pause, eyeing the flower. Eddie picked it up, before taking your hand and tugging you outside. Your palm and fingers tingled where you and Eddie's skin touched, making your hand feel warm.

He unlocked the van, opening the passenger door for you. You set down the bags on the floor of the passenger seat, turning back to Eddie as the rose was presented to your face. "No girl should go on a Valentine's date and not get a flower," he murmured.

The rose itself was struggling to stay alive. Who knows how long it had been there. The petals weren't perfect, a bit of brown to them, but you didn't care. Your cheeks warmed as you took the flower from him. "Eddie," you murmur, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his middle. You laid your head on his chest, trying to ignore the feeling in your chest and the slight burning in your eyes.

Eddie froze, feeling his heart thud hard and fast in his chest. He prayed you couldn't hear or feel it with your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, tempted to say 'it's just a flower, bunny'. Then he remember you telling Heather you'd never had a Valentine before. He didn't mean to snoop. He had just wanted another beer. It just felt funny how he had said the same thing to Heather not an hour ago when he had gotten to her house. He rubbed your back for a moment before loosening his hold. "C'mon, lets get to my place." he held the door open as you let go of him and slid into the van again.

The trailer was cozy, in your opinion. As soon as you were in there, Eddie was running around trying to clean up. You ignored him as you surveryed all the hats and mugs on the wall. You eyed the fold up bed in the corner, no doubt for his uncle. You moved into the kitchen, ignoring Eddie running around you as you started to unpack everything, leaving your rose on the counter. The bottles of soda got slid into the fridge and you took the paper off of the stovetop popcorn. You found a large bowl to dump the popcorn into and started to cook it up on the stove.

"If the phone rings, don't answer it." Eddie joked from behind you as you heard more empty cans clink into the garbage can.

"Oh? What's the wrost that could happen?" you played along, wanting to see what he'd say.

A warmth pressed against your back and it took you a moment to realize Eddie was pressed against you. His hands slid onto your hips and you felt his hair tickle your neck as he leaned in. "Because there might be a psycho on the other end with just one question: what's your favorite scary movie?" Eddie murmured into your ear, trying to impersonate the Ghostface voice.

A shiver ran through you and you reminded yourself to shake the popcorn as it started to pop. "Personally?" you answer, turning your head to look at Eddie. You hear his breath hitch when you do, your faces barely an inch apart. You'd hardly have to lean to kiss him if you wanted to... and you kind of did. "I do love Scream. Billy and Stu are very hot, but Saw has a special place in my heart." you grin, glancing down at Eddie's full lips before tearing your eyes away and looking back at the stovetop.

"S-Saw, huh?" Eddie swallowed hard, trying to remember how to breathe and not just press you against this counter and mark up your neck like you decided to go necking with a vampire.

"I like the gore and the concept. Obviously, the first one is the best, but the third has a special place in my heart too." you go on, finishing the popcorn. You carefully unwrap it, dumping the popcorn into the bowl and scooping out any unpopped kernals you come across.

"Which Scream is best?" Eddie asked, gently squeezing your hips before letting go.

"The first, of course. Can't beat the original. And Stu is absolutely alive."

Eddie scoffed. "A TV fell on his head, bunny."

"So?" you laugh, turning to face Eddie. "He could just be horribly disfigured."

"Would you still find him hot then? Even if he looked like a stitched up mess?"

"Mm, yeah. He's got personality. Funny, eccentric. It's hot. Reminds me of you, really, when you're joking around with Hellfire."

Eddie put his hand on his chest, a sly grin spreading across his face. "You callin me hot, bunny?"

You pick up the bowl of popcorn and grab the candy. "Pour us some sodas, stud." you laugh, heading to the living room. You set the bowl down first before sitting down to open up all the candy.

Eddie came back with two glasses, setting yours down first before his. He sat down next to you, keeping a respectable distance as he grabbed the remote. Seeing as how you both had similar taste in movies, you decided to trust Eddie with his possible picks. He settled on My Bloody Valentine. "Feels appropriate almost," he commented, sitting back on the couch and tucking himself in the corner at the arm of the chair.

"It does," you answer, picking up the popcorn. You slide your shoes off, tucking your feet under you as the movie starts. Through the movie, you offer the bowl of popcorn to Eddie who snags handfuls. Occasionally he leans over to grab candy too. He eventually picked up the package of Red Vines and sits back with them.

You suddenly decide the way you're sitting is uncomfortable. You move your drink closer to Eddie's and grab the M&M's, taking the bowl of popcorn with you as you slide closer to him. Eddie side eyes you, but says nothing as you move his arm to tuck into his side with your legs laying on the couch towards the spot you just abandoned. You set the bowl of popcorn on your lap and the M&M's at your side.

You continue snacking, surprised that Eddie says nothing about you deciding to cuddle up to him. He just wordlessly grabs a couple kernels of popcorn. After a few minutes, you reach over and swipe a Red Vine from the packet. You stick one end into your mouth.

"Theif." Eddie murmurs and you giggle.

"It's just a Red Vine, Teddy."

Eddie's cheeks flare red at the nickname. "It's my Red Vine." he argues back, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach.

"Sharing is caring." you counter, taking a bite from the Red Vine now. You hold up the rest to him. "I'm sorry," you playfully pout at him. Eddie leans in, taking a bite from the licorice.

"Finish it," he tells you, "and be thankful!"

"Thank you, sir." you grin, wiggling back against him.

The movie ends, and by then most of the popcorn is gone, your soda is finished and you both made a dent in the candy. You pull out your cherry chapstick, applying some to your lips to fight off the chapping the cold has been trying to do.

"I gotta use the bathroom, be back." Eddie told you, wiggling out from under you. You sat forward, watching him go. You set the candy and popcorn back onto the table and get up. You start cleaning up, pausing as you walk around to go into the kitchen. Ahead of you is a doorway, cracked open but you can tell it's Eddie's room. You hum, biting your lip as you think about it. You set down everything in your arms onto the counter top and start towards his room. Someone's room could tell you a lot about them. How could you resist?

You gently push the door open, sliding into his room. It's messy, but you expected that from a guy. A couple clothes sat around the laundry hamper as opposed to being inside of it, the walls were covered in posters and a large 'Corroded Coffin' banner that he clearly made. The desk was covered in notebooks, dice and small figurines. You thumbed through the open notebook, skimming over campaign notes for a D&D session. Books were scattered all over the room, from the night table to the dresser. You glanced at the night table, seeing a worn down copy of The Hobbit, an ash tray and an alarm clock.

You turned, stopping at the large mirror on the wall. You wandered over, eyeing the electric guitar hung up in front of the mirror. It didn't have the body shape you were used to seeing on a guitar. The paint job was a speckled red and black. It suited Eddie for sure. You reached out, intending to just run your fingers over the strings.

"Don't even think about it."

You jumped out of your skin hearing Eddie directly behind you. "You're fucking quiet, Jesus Christ!" you breathe, looking back at Eddie.

He had a serious look on his face. "No one touches her but me, bunny." he told you, "and you're snooping. I never said you could come in here." A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.

"You never said I couldn't," you countered.

Eddie grabbed your hips, pulling you away from the guitar. "Snooping around is snooping around," he answered.

"What? Got somethin to hide?" you teased, "I didn't even check under the bed yet! I bet there's dirty magazines there." You giggle and try to power over to his bed, but Eddie tightens his hold on your hips.

"Hey! No, bad girl." Eddie laughed, now wrapping his arm around your waist.

"What? I wanna know what you're into," you tease, yelping as you suddenly are lifted off of the floor.

Eddie tosses you onto his bed. "You're such a brat. Maybe I shouldn't have brought you here," he joked, pressing his knee onto his bed.

You roll over, trying to blow your hair off of your sticky lips from the chapstick. "Liar, you've had fun with you." you accuse, pointing at him.

Eddie hums, crawling onto his bed and on top of you. His left forearm holds himself up as he hovers over you, your legs tangled together. "I have had fun with you here," he admits, reaching with his right hand to pull your hair away from your lips.

"Thank you," you murmur, unsure if you mean for the compliment or helping get your hair away from your mouth.

Eddie's fingers skim your cheek before his hand gently cups it instead. "You're welcome," he murmurs, watching you.

You reach up, gently pushing his bangs from his eyes. You slide your hand down to his jaw, then his neck. You knew maybe going here was a mistake but you had been curious about the whole 'I know someone who likes you' thing. You were never the type to have a bunch of prospects in that region. You focused a lot on school, then work. You hardly were approached unlike your friends who had multiple prospects. So you were curious, but it also was dangerous since you like Eddie, too. Especially now that you got to spend time with him. It was dangerous. This was dangerous.

"Eddie," you whisper, unsure if you wanted to ask him for the information he had or ask him what you both were doing. Cuddling was one thing. Eddie looking at you like he wanted to kiss you was ano-... oh. Oh.

You gently pull at the back of his neck, trying to urge him down. Eddie complies, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. It barely took you tugging at him for him to comply. You shivered as your lips moved with his, feeling the tingling and warmth that you had felt earlier when you held hands. Eddie groaned quietly, deepening your kiss. Your free hand moves to his chest, gently rubbing there before moving your hand down to his stomach. Eddie can't help the butterflies at your touch. You slide your hand up under his shirt, feeling the sparce scattering of hair leading down into his jeans before moving your hand farther up his stomach.

Eddie breaks the kiss with a gentle click of your lips. "Jesus Christ," Eddie breathes, "you taste like cherries. You and fucking cherries," he breathes a laugh.

"I like it!" you giggle, "Don't tell me you don't like it."

"I love it," Eddie mumbles, pressing his lips to yours again. His kiss is firmer this time, hungrier as he teases his tongue against your cherry flavored lip. You happily oblige, parting your lips to taste his tongue. At the first brush of his tongue, you try not to laugh as he tastes like mint. No doubt having scrubbed his teeth while he went to the bathroom, maybe in preparation for this. You moan, moving your hand from his neck into his hair. You gently tug, pulling a moan from him too.

You pull away this time to catch your breath. "It's you." you murmur, "The person you know that likes me. It's you."

"Fuck yeah, it's me." Eddie breathes, stealing a kiss again. "I almost died when I pulled your keys from that fucking bowl."

"So you did know they were mine?"

"Yeah. I've seen 'em before." he admitted, pressing gentle kisses to the corners of your mouth.

"Why didn't you ever-"

"I was scared, bunny." he sighs, nudging his nose against yours. "We barely talked in high school. His right hand gently brushes over your waist. "I've had a stupid crush on you since I went to check out Lord of the Flies from the library."

"So years? Eddie!" you scold, laughing as he whines and presses his head into your neck.

"I'm fucking pathetic for you, bunny. I've been a pining fool." he admits, pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck. You moan, dragging your nails over his belly.

"You should've said something forever ago, you idiot boy." you pout, tugging on his hair again.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," Eddie mumbles, lifting his head to kiss you again. Your fingers dip back down, sneaking into the waistband of his jeans. "Jesus, fuck-mm," Eddie moans, reaching down to grab your wrist. "Dangerous game, bunny. Hold on,"

"Whyyyy?" you whine, "I wasn't doing anything!"

"I will fuck you, if you stick your hand any farther into my pants. I promise you." Eddie sternly said, watching you. Your eyes widen.

"I-uhm-you," you ramble, not sure how to wrap your head around that.

Eddie grinned. "Made you go dumb and I haven't even gotten to taste this pussy yet, damn."

Your brain malfunctions more. "Talking to me like that doesn't help." you tell him, gently pinching his stomach. He wiggles at the contact and laughs.

"Good to know you like the thought though," he wiggles his brows with a laugh. "I won't fuck you tonight, not unless you ask me very nicely."

"Teddy," you purr, seeing his smug expression fall into an almost patheitcally horny one. "Let me touch your cock, please?"

"Jesus Christ," Eddie breathes and you realize he had been holding his breath. "I don't know if I'm gonna survive."

"You will. I'll give you CPR," you giggle, trying to shake your wrist from his hold. Eddie lets your wrist go and you let go of his hair. You go for his belt, easily getting it undone. You pop the button and pull down the zipper. "Last chance to stop me," you warn.

"Never. Fucking never. Please touch me, baby, please." Eddie groans. You push his jeans and boxers down, reaching around to get them off his ass too. Eddie shifts so you can have better access to him as his erection hangs heavily between you. It's red, leaking gently at the tip begging to be touched. You sit up a bit, gathering some spit in your mouth before slowly spitting the wad into your palm. "Fuck," Eddie moans, turned on just watching you spit into your palm.

You wrap your hand around him, slowly stroking and getting his length covered in your spit. "Got plenty more spit where that came from." you told him, giving his shaft a gentle squeeze. "I'd wanna get it all over this though, taste you."

Eddie's free hand was gripping the mattress under you both, shaking as you stroked his length. You sped up, watching the way his brows furrowed in pleasure with his eyes squeezed shut. You loved how you had him in the palm of your hand. Figuratively and literally. "Your h-hands," Eddie whimpered and you grinned.

"Teddyyyy," you coo, giggling at his whine. "Have you... done this before?"

Eddie's cheeks flared red. That bit of confidence earlier melted away a little bit. "I-okay, mm fuck, I-I've not, uh. This, I've had this, but..." he trails off and you try not to get too excited at the prospect of being Eddie's first.

"So no one has taken this cock, huh? You spoke so dirty earlier I thought maybe you'd had your pick of groupies at the Hideout." you swipe your thumb over his tip and his hips twitch forward at the contact.

"I know how to talk, sweetheart. Seen enough--nevermind--to know," Eddie grabbed for your wrist again as you gave him a squeeze at his base. "Lemme fuckin think for a second, J-Jesus," he choked out, "I've had handies, been blown once... didn't last long. And yes, I've had sex before. Just... not often."

"I like it," you shrug, deciding to do as he needed and stopped stroking him so he could think. "I think it's cute that you can talk."

"I sound like a loser admitting all this." Eddie groaned, letting go of your wrist to cover his face with his hand.

"A hot loser," you giggle. "You've got a few options here. I can either keep doing this til you cum on my stomach, I can blow you ooor we can go all the way."

Eddie felt like he was being boiled alive. He felt hot all over at the options you gave him. What was the right answer? He had no fucking clue. "I'm not gonna last long in any of these situations." he admitted, "and I really, really wanna taste that pussy."

You let go of his length and pat his side. "Switch," you instruct, trying to wiggle out from under him. Eddie does as you say, laying back on his bed and watching you. You tug his jeans and boxers down off of his legs while Eddie tugs his shirt off. You hum, crawling over him to touch the tattoos on his chest. You're straddling him, leaning down to kiss the tattoos exposed to you.

"God, what a view." he groans, watching you on top of him.

"Just wait," you laugh, sitting back up. Your shirt goes next, followed by your bra and you swear Eddie's eyes might fall out of his head from how widely they're open and staring at your bare chest. You work your jeans off next, Eddie helping you tug them off but you swat at his hand when they go for your panties. "Watch it or I'll tie you up," you joke, but Eddie's eyes slide to the other side of the room. You follow his gaze and laugh seeing a set of handcuffs. "Next time," you promise.

"Thank fuck cause I would lose my mind if I can't touch you right now," Eddie chuckles, watching you slide down his body. He groans at each soft kiss you place on his chest an stomach. "Baby, please," he begs, even though he doesn't need to. You trace your tongue over the thick vein running along the underside of his cock, watching him intently as you get to work. Your tongue swipes up the bead of precum forming at his tip, humming at the taste of him before wrapping your lips around his head and gently sucking. Curses leave Eddie's lips as he watches you, reaching a hand down to tangle in your hair. You whimper around his tip, sliding down to take more of him into your throat and start bobbing your head.

"I-I'm not gonna last, babe," he warns, gently tugging on your hair. That admission just makes you up your efforts, bobbing your head faster as you take more and more of him into your throat. Your name falls from his lips as your work him down, going unto your nose is tickled by the patch of hair you admired earlier. At the same time, you moved your hand to stroke and play with the weight under his length, feeling him jump at the touch to his balls. You giggle, making yourself gag on him as you pull back up to catch your breath. "You okay?" Eddie finds it in him to ask after seeing you gag.

"I'm fine, baby." you reassure him, kissing his tip. You shift to sit up more, letting him see your bare breasts again as you jerk him off.

"Fuck, I died. I'm fucking dead and in Heaven. No one take me back," Eddie moans, eyeing your tits as your hand works him.

You giggle, shaking your head at him. "Enjoying the view?"

"So fucking much. Please remind me to fuck your tits one day,"

"Happy to." you hum, leaning down to dribble spit over his length. You get back to work, shifting down again and swiping your tongue over his balls before taking him back into your mouth. You start slow again before building up speed as your suck him off. Before you know it, Eddie is tugging on your hair, hips canting upward as he moans your name. You pull back a bit just in time for his seed to spill over your tongue instead of choking on it. You moan at the taste of him, jerking him off to milk him for all he's worth. You collect it all, lifting your head and opening your mouth to show him what all you have.

"Swallow it." Eddie growled, watching you shut your mouth an swallow it down. You open your mouth again, sticking out your tongue to show that you took it all. You let go of him, crawling up his body.

"You're hot when you're demanding. I won-eep!" you barely get to finish your sentence before Eddie is flipping you over onto your back. A searing kiss is pressed to your lips before he's disappearing down your body now. "Eddie," you groan as he spreads your legs.

Eddie presses a kiss over your hole through your panties, groaning at the scent of you. There's a wet patch there already, unable not to get wet hearing her whimper and moan for you. He reaches up, tugging your panties down and getting them off your legs. He tosses them behind him uncaringly but you laugh as it gets caught on his deodorant on his dresser.

He wastes little time, licking a stripe up from your entrance to your clit. Your breath catches in your throat at the sudden feeling and then he doesn't stop. Eddie laps at your cunt desperately, moaning into you as he does so. He moves your legs onto his shoulders, holding onto your thighs as he eats you out like he was starving. He had wondered for so long what you tasted like. Spent many nights thinking about it as he fisted his cock to the thought of you like this. Eddie's tongue swirled over his clit, losing the sounds it pulled out of you as he did so. He wrapped his lips around the sensitve bud, sucking gently. He coats his finger in your juices before gently prodding at your entrance. He slowly pushes his finger in, moaning against you as your walls suck him in desperately.

"F-Fuck, Eddie." you moan, reaching for his hair. You just had him in your mouth, so you know his size, but his finger swill burned as it stretched your neglected walls. His fingers were thicker than yours and it had been a long, long time. It made a feeling stir in your belly as you wondered just how much his cock would stretch you. Would he even fit? You bet he could make it fit. As he curled his finger, you shot up and gasped, crying out his name as he found that spongy spot inside you. Eddie chuckled against you, kissing your clit.

"Found it," he grinned, adding a second finger into you. He moved his free hand up, pressing down on your stomach to make you lay back down. You obliged, watching him as he fucked you with his fingers and lapped at your clit with the tip of his tongue. "Look at you, taking my fingers so good. You gonna cum for me, bunny?" he cooed before swirling his tongue over his clit. "Can't believe you're letting me do this, fuck, I could live here forever if you let me. Will you let me, baby? Please?" Eddie babbled into your cunt as he fingers you faster.

You felt the coil tighten in your belly, knowing you'd be crashing over it soon. You watched Eddie, whining at the sight of him grinding into the bed. Was he hard again already? Just from eating you out. "Y-You can live there, Eddie, please. Make me cum!" you whine, tugging on his hair. Seconds later as Eddie suckled on your clit again, your orgasm washed over you. His name moaned out loudly in the trailer and you prayed that his neighbors were dead asleep by now. Eddie fingered you through your orgasm, moaning against your clit. He pulled his fingers free and you whimpered at the loss of them, gasping when that stretch was replaced with his tongue as he devoured all that you gave him. He groaned into you, detaching his mouth with a line of flui going from your to his lips. Spit or your essence, you weren't really sure at this point. Eddie licked his lips though and crawled up, cock at attention again. It made you wet seeing it. How much he wanted you. Panting, you reached for him. "Sweetheart," he cooed, trying to grab your hand.

"No, can't believe you got hard for me again." you murmur, tracing your fingers down his length.

"What can I say? I've waited a long time to have you spread out here..." he admitted.

You reached down between your legs, collecting what you could of your wetness that came roaring back. You reached out, stroking Eddie. "C'mon, baby," you cooed as he bent down to kiss you. You stroked him slowly, lazily at first. Eddie groaned, gently thrusting into your fist.

"Fuck, I can't believe you." Eddie kisses you again, one hand raising to wrap his hand around your throat. You whine at the feeling, stroking him faster as his fingers squeeze the sides of your throat. "That's it-fuuuck. Got yourself all over me and I haven't even fucked you yet. Bein so good to me, wanting me to cum again." Eddie babbled, pressing kisses to your cheeks and nose as you worked his length.

"I want it. Want you to paint me, Teddy," your whine, choking on your gasp as he squeezes again.

"Open your mouth." he growls and you do as he says. He leans over you, spitting into your mouth. "Swallow that too." He demands and you do as he says once his hold loosens a little on your throat. "That's my girl, fuck. Bunny, baby, please," He gasps as you speed up your hand. It doesn't take long before Eddie is rocking into your hand, moaning your name as he spurts white ropes all over your stomach, even getting it on your chest. He lets go of your throat, pressing kisses there. You let go of his softening length, whimpering at his kisses.

Eddie leans up, watching you as a grin spreads over his lips. "What?" you ask, reaching down to swipe up some of his cum from your breast and bring it to your mouth.

"God, you're so fucking hot." he groans, giving you a kiss.

You hum, feeling sleep tug at you. He definitely wore you out and it made you wonder how worn out you'd be if he did fuck you. Eddie kisses your face. "M tired," you mumble to him and he chuckles.

"Hold on, not yet. I'm sorry, babe." Eddie kisses your forehead and climbs off his bed. He disappears for a bit, returning with a wet rag and a glass of water. "C'mon,"

You huff and sit up a bit, taking the rag from him and cleaning his mess off of you. Eddie pulls on a fresh pair of boxers before rooting around for a t-shirt. He walks back over, handing you a t-shirt before taking the rag to toss into his hamper. You unfold the shirt, pulling it over your head and down your body. You rub your eyes, frowning at the mascara that comes off. You know you should go pee and try to wash off the makeup. You move to stand but Eddie stops you. He points to the glass of water. You take it, taking a few gulps before setting it aside. Once he's satisfied, you go to the bathroom and pee before trying to wash your makeup off with soap and water. A bit of black is still smudged aroun your eyes but it's better than nothing.

When you get back to his room, Eddie is laid in bed waiting for you. His TV is on, playing some late night show as he waits for you. You admire the view before finally walking over and crawling into bed. Eddie grins, pulling you close and holding you. "Hi," he murmurs.

"Hi," you mumble back, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"Can't believe this is happening right now," he whispers and you can't help but laugh.

"I can hear you." you tell him, rubbing his belly.

"Oops, was just thanking God real quick, sorry." Eddie laughed, kissing your head.

"You're a dork," you mumble.

"I am."

"But you're my dork now. If you wanna be, I mean," you mumble shyly.

You feel the bed jostle. So you open your eyes to see Eddie fist pumping in victory. You laugh, Eddie joining you as he realizes he's caught. "Yeah, I do wanna be." he answers, tilting your head up to steal a kiss. "Get some rest, bunny."

"You too, Teddy," you mumble against his lips before wiggling to settle down and sleep, dozing off to the soft sounds of the TV and Eddie's quick beating heart, the metalhead following soon after.

[swordsandholly]

Fancy: The Rewrite

Chapter One: Here's Your One Chance

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | next | masterlist | Ao3

A/N: This fic has been haunting me since I stopped working on it. I just wrote myself into a corner and sped through the story far too quickly. Plus, I have some new concepts that I think really fill out the unfortunate issues with the original. Chapter one is the most similar to the original. I'm leaving the original up on tumblr for the hell of it, but I hope you enjoy the re-write as much as I am.

A permanent darkness rests over the city; dense and unbidden. Cold, too. Despite living here your whole life you’ve never quite adjusted to the artificial nature of it - to the shadow hanging above the miles and miles of city. The chill on your skin never lifts. It leaves a shivering underneath, nearly an ache these days. Something ingrained into your very nature by your surroundings.

Really, you aren’t meant to be here. This place isn’t built for humans despite the mass that live within the confines of the city’s dome. It’s purpose made for creatures - beings of the night that stalk and rule. The air has become rotten in the lower neighborhoods over a century of pollution and overpopulation. The constant cover of the dome cannot be broken to filter it - not even for a moment can the eternal night hanging overhead end. Your lungs will turn black before the age of five without proper protection. It’s worse it summer - at least the artificially created facsimile of summer - when the air warms and wets and coats your insides. When the pollutants find their way into the water supply. As if there is any point to the heat with so sunlight in return. Your nails always have a layer of dirt crusted underneath during those months.

The lower city is nothing but old buildings on top of even older structures; all moderately crumbling in some capacity. Apartment buildings are crowded and decent living conditions are hard to come by. Many have a waitlist longer than the human lifespan. Most operate on a dorm system - at least one person per room. Randomly assigned of course, based entirely on who can pay the rent. You’ve lucked out enough to earn a shitty studio to yourself. It’s cracked and crumbling but the locks are tight and it has a window - even if the view is just a building across the alleyway. Even if the smog has turned the tempered glass a semi-opaque grey.

The slippery polyester of your black dress smooths over your skin, just as artificial as everything else in this place. You tie your hair up to show off the double string of pearls on your neck. They’re the nicest thing you own. The most authentic, at least, and the only thing that makes you seem worthy of the upper city. The only thing that can project the image needed to get proper tips - to get what you need to survive. Red lipstick as a final touch, always. It’s corny, and leaves you cringing every time you glance at the damn thing but the vampire clients are always suckers for it. Pun intended.

This job is important. There can’t be a hair out of place; can’t be a single reason to cast doubt that you are inhumanly perfect while never losing that very humanity they crave so desperately. This is your chance. Your one chance to make enough money to get out of the slums and at least make it to the middle city. Once you ruin your reputation at a place like this… well, you might as well call it permanently. You can practically hear the grime on the sidewalk as you make your way toward the metro station. Dirt and debris so caked into the very air down here that you have to wear a respirator as you go. It’ll leave marks when you first take it off, but they usually disappear by the time you’ve made it from the depot to the club.

You don’t bother with sitting on the train. Hell will freeze over before you chance catching whatever new disease has grown in that Petri dish. Instead you join the rest of the patrons in awkwardly standing in the center of the cart, damn near falling over when the train lurches to begin its journey from the slums to the upper city. There are actual names for the two areas, but nobody uses them anymore. They died two generations ago.

The respirator makes a hissing sound as you remove it after stepping out of the train. The cool, clean air of the upper city fills your lungs. It’s satisfying in a way its sticky, filtered sister could never be. The faux fur of your cropped coat tickles at your neck as you walk, blown by that strange breeze that never seems to stop up here. The one that sends all the grime and smog downhill, leaving a fog so thick you can’t even see the building lights properly.

The club sits square in central downtown - bult into the underground level of a historical hotel. It’s an elegant building. Red with curled metal accents over the windows and doors. Modeled after the ancient art nouveau movement. At least that’s what the plaque in the lobby says. You had just long enough to change a glance at it while heading up with a client once. The fixtures sparkle underneath the artificial LEDs of the city - all signs and glowing windows. You can always tell where the humans are, catching glimpses of that unmistakable glow only a UV light gives off.

You duck down the alley behind the hotel. Grimy and dark, the complete opposite of the front entrance. Your heels clack on the concrete loudly - echoing off the hard walls of the building surrounding you. If it weren’t for the small glowing sign that marks the “Back Stage” you might never know it’s there.

It’s easy enough to slip into the routine of your job. Going back and forth to the bartender, carrying various drinks and placating the egos of cowardly men and the vampires they lie to themselves about being equal to. You can see the pity in the ancient creatures’ eyes when they look at their human cohorts posturing to appease them. You can see the hunger, in equal measure, when you tilt your head, exposing more of your neck to the light; when your wrists just pass their noses as you set down their glasses. It’s all purposeful, of course, maintaining the dance of remaining just out of their grasp, but close enough that if they really wanted to take you, they could.

It’s hard work, the dance. Long hours and more days of the week than you would like, but it pays enough for you to afford your little apartment and save some for your theoretical future.

“Hey! You!” The owner barks at you as you gently set your tray back into the stack to be washed.

You whirl on your heel. Shit, did you fuck up? Your mind runs through every interaction over the course of the night - every comment, every stilted moment. Every outcome of whatever mistake you made. Being thrown out into the city before you can even gather your respirator or coat. Choking on the air as you make your way home and praying you survive the symptoms after. Though, there wouldn’t be much point to surviving them without work.

“Y-yes, sir?”

“Need you as a Companion.” He stands in front of you, the pinstripes of his suit warping over his massive, crossed arms. The wrinkle in his nose makes his mustache twitch.

“C-companion!” You squeak. “I’m not-“

“We had a mix up. Need you to take the private booth in the back.”

Your eyes are saucers - heart beating so hard you almost can’t hear him. You don’t know what to make of this. His words are nonchalant and cut right though you, but the prospect they hold… so much opportunity and disaster…

“You paying attention?” He grunts.

Your voice shakes. “Just… why me?”

“You match their preference.” Its blunt. Uncaring. Not that you would ever expect much sympathy from the owner of a place like this - feeding girls to vampires and their kin.

Generally, you’re not the type to be preferred - too big and soft for most. It’s what kept you as a server exclusively, you’re sure. Companion is such a major step up, too. You haven’t had any training. You never thought you’d get there - only a few girls make it from Server to Companion. To have it by happenstance…

With a deep breath you remind yourself that this is temporary. Just for tonight. You are acting as a replacement, nothing more. If you pull this off maybe you’ll get enough extra cash to finally replace the air filtration in your apartment. Maybe you can even get an overhead UV light. Oh, wouldn’t that be lovely!

Another tray is shoved into your hands. Is this… actual gold? You turn it over in your hands briefly. Ornate designs line the outer rim - all weaving in and out of each other inlaid with iridescent mother of pearl. It’s cold on your skin and so shiny you catch your reflection in it before the bartender sets a bottle of wine and four glasses on it. You’re fairly certain between the wine and the tray you are holding upwards of ten thousand dollars a in your hands. It takes everything to keep your hands from trembling.

You slowly head for the back booth under the scrutinizing eye of the owner - just beyond the main floor of the bar. It’s far quieter here; the music from the floor muffled by the distance. There are only a few private booths and they are only ever occupied by the city’s elite. The top of the top. You pause at the heavy, velvet burgundy curtain separating you and your clients for tonight.

You just hope they aren’t the type to get rough.

Balancing the tray on one hand, you use the other the push the heavy curtain to the side - entire body alert and tense as your eyes land on the four men sitting at the rounded booth. Their eyes meet yours, and you freeze. A shiver runs down your spine.

They’re beautiful in that way only vampires can be. Untouchable. Marble-esque. Eyes clear and bright even in the low light of the booth - that sheen of night vision apparent. Lions staring down their prey and you, who walked into the den willingly. Their stares tear through you, seemingly pulling you apart at the seams. If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think that hypervigilance leaned toward fear.

“Good evening.” It takes everything to keep your voice steady. To slip back into that comfortable service headspace you’ve curated. “I’ll be your Companion tonight.”

“What happened t’ Cherry?” The man on the outer right side of the booth asks, words slow and hushed. His arm is slung carelessly over the back of the booth, body too tense and words too stilted to sell whatever casual air he is trying for.

“She was unfortunately unable to come in tonight.” You say softly, carefully sliding the tray onto the table. “If I’m not to your standards-“

“Well, now, none of us said that.” A man with an imperial beard smiles. It softens his face - makes him look less like stone. “What’s your name, dove?”

“Fancy.” You murmur. It’s your chosen work name - based on a song your mother used to play from a century ago. All the workers names are single words. Easy to remember. Easy to request for returning quests.

“Fittin’.” The man to your left grins, bright blue eyes sparkling. His fangs catch the light - your hands tremble for a brief moment.

“Do you know who we are?” The masked man beside him asks. His voice rumbles through your nerves, all the way into your bones. You can hardly look at him - the skull covering the top half of his face makes your gut churn.

Should you know them? Oh, fuck, you probably should. Vampires live forever - their names and legacies travel across centuries. Millenia. It’s going to give you away. You’re just a low class human from the slums. You don’t know Vampires from the uppers.

The illusion of luxury only goes so far.

“It’s not a trick question.” The man to your right smiles gently, tilting his head to the side.

“No, sir.”

“Well,” The one with the beard sits a little straighter. “I’m John Price and these are my… confidants. Cohorts. Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish and Simon Riley.” He gestures to each as he goes.

John Price… John Price… Nothing comes to mind. Nothing about any of them, for that matter.

“Lovely to meet you.” You smile pleasantly, slipping back into the script. Swallowing roughly and steadying yourself, you reach for the bottle and slowly pouring a tester amount into the four glasses. “Tonight we have a vintage red for you from 2089.”

John hums, swirling the glass before taking a sip. His eyes don’t leave you and you try not to shrink from them. “You remember the 80’s, Simon?”

“Which one?” The makes you pause. How many 80’s could there be?

John laughs, whole and hearty. Little crows feet appear in the corners of his eyes. “Which d’you think?”

“I remember the blood.” The masked man mutters. He doesn’t look at John either - dark eyes locked on you. You keep up the well trained smile. Neutral, comfortable.

“Och, ye would.” Johnny scoffs, taking his own glass after John gives you a nod to fill the four properly. “Cannae ever remember the good.”

“Well what’s your finest memory then Johnny?”

“There’s was this lass… think her name was Cassandra. Had the biggest tits and-“

“Enough of that. There’s a lady present.” John waves his hand. To your surprise, Johnny actually listens despite looking muffed about it. You can’t help but snort. Lady. As if.

How old are they, anyway? They look young - especially Johnny and Kyle. Definitely below thirty when they were turned. John obviously leads but that doesn’t necessarily mean he turned the rest of them. They could have just come together over the years. Vampire covens vary heavily as to why they came together. Sometimes friendship, sometimes relation, sometimes just convenience.

Simon is still staring you down, hooking a thumb under his mask to raise it just over the end of his nose. Scarred lips sip from his glass.

“Come sit, luv.” Kyle pats the booth beside him, voice hushed.

You snap out of your thoughts at the prompt - moving to sit in the empty spot beside Kyle. The next thing you know hands are on your hips, passing you over until you’re sat square in the middle as if you weigh nothing. You know vampires are strong - you’ve gotten thrown around by your fair share in the slums, whether a mugging or fucking - but it still startles you. They could crush you with barely a flick of the wrist.

Fingers brush over your shoulders, tracing the shape of them and leaving goosebumps in their wake before lowering to rest between your exposed shoulder blades.

“Tell us about yourself, hm?” John prompts.

“Oh, not much to tell.” You shrug and smile. “I’m from the city. Started here about a year ago-“

“How have we never seen ye then?” Johnny interrupts, eyes locked on your chest. You’d think he was staring at the mole just below your collarbone, but that’s probably too presumptuous. “A bonnie thing like ye…”

“Well…” You raise your hand to your mouth like you would when whispering a secret. “I’m not supposed to tell but I’m actually a server, normally.”

“Oh, really?” Kyle leans his chin on his palm. “In a dress like that?”

“What’s wrong with my dress?” You huff, letting the pliant facade slip just enough to make yourself seem real. Just a little less doll like before you return to the script.

“Absolutely nothin’.” Simon hums beside you, eyes near black under the shadow of his mask.

Your face heats. Client compliments never get to you and you’re not sure what about his feels so different. All of their attention is so intense. It dives under your skin and burrows deep in your marrow.

“So, seeing as you implied I should know who you are-“ You tilt your head and meeting John’s eye, “who are you?”

John chuckles, leaning close. “Oh, no one important. Contractors. Independently employed.”

“Ah, so, criminals.” You laugh.

“If you say so.”

“I can’t exactly judge.” You lean in as well, shoulder pressing against his broad chest. The material of his suit is soft and thick. High quality. “I mean, look where I am, hm?”

“Are ye a criminal, lassie?” Johnny grins at you, tilting his head. How he makes a mo-hawk cute is beyond you.

“Shh.” You press a finger to your lips.

“That how you got these?” You startle as John slips his fingers beneath the string of pearls, tugging ever so slightly. You meet his eye, only briefly, only long enough to see something hard behind them that wasn’t there before. He rolls the golden clasp between his fingers absently.

“I… I’ve always had them…” You frown, suddenly wracking your mind as to their origin. You’d never thought about it. They were your mother’s… you’re sure… but somehow that doesn’t feel right. The harder you think, the further the answer seems to be.

Either way, John seems placated by that. He retracts his hand, falling back into the simple banter from before. You allow you shoulders to relax, deciding to take his return to form at face value. Not that you have another option, really. It’s easy enough to look sultry, to play the part, to mindlessly flirt. Easy enough to fall into the simple back and forth. Scripted. Basic. Nothing out of the ordinary. They’re just clients at the end of the day, even if they have more money and power than your usual crowd.

You carefully refill each of their glasses as needed - mostly Johnny’s. His face would probably be red from the alcohol were he alive. You can feel their eyes on you - boring through your very being. It takes more concentration than you’d like to keep your breath from hitching when John’s finger traces the exposed upper curve of your spine above the dress. You lean forward, pushing each glass back to their respective owners.

Johnny takes your hand before you can retract it, placing gentle kisses from your palm to your wrist. He sighs shakily, teeth catching your skin ever so slightly.

“Johnny.” The masked man rumbles in warning.

“Not gonnae bite, LT… she just...” Johnny murmurs against your wrist.

“Have you ever been bitten, dove?” John asks, eyes half lidded as he stares you down.

Prey. You’re just prey.

“N-no…” You shake your head, voice smaller than you’d like. You’re not supposed to. Clients aren’t allowed to bite the girls here - it’s not one of those clubs - but in reality you’re at their mercy. To book one of these rooms they surely have the money to pay whoever necessary to do whatever they might want with you. It’s not like you’re one of those girls anyone would miss.

“Donnae look so afraid.” Johnny chuckles.

“We’re not goin’ t’bite.” Kyle leans forward. “Just curious.”

“Oh…” You whisper. Johnny drops your wrist and you pray that they don’t notice how quickly you retract it. As you settle back into the booth, you allow yourself to sink comfortably into the soft cushions. A jolt shoots down your spine as a cool finger tucks a section of hair behind your ear. Your eyes meet John’s - some undiscernible pain swirls in those grey-blues. It looks wrong, that much emotion on such a statuesque face. He glances past you, toward Simon, you think.

The next thing you know you’re blinking blearily, sitting in John’s lap with your legs across Kyle’s. The younger man’s hand rests on your leg, thumb gently stroking your ankle as you come back to sentience.

It’s like coming up from the undertow and getting your first gasp of air.

“There she is.” Johnny murmurs, smiling softly.

You were compelled - you know that much. There isn’t any other explanation for your sudden, uninterrupted blackout. It’s disorienting. You rub the corner of your eye, purposefully evening your breath. At least your clothes are all still in place. You don’t feel… used. Not bitten either. A choked sigh escapes you against your will, hands trembling in your lap.

“You’re alright, dove.” John coos, cold breath puffing against your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. How much time has passed? When… what… “Can be hard t’come out of it, hm?”

“I’m okay...” You whisper.

“Have some water.” Kyle pushes a glass toward you. The concern on his face feels foreign.

A large, empty decanter of scotch sits in the center of the table accompanied by five empty glasses. That’s the closest hint you have to how long you’ve been here. You take the glass of water shakily and sip, leaving an imprint of red lipstick on the rim.

John continues to coo and soothe down your hair. His other hand travels down to rest on your hip, holding you in place against him. It’s strange… this feeling. You’ve been compelled before briefly but it wasn’t like this. John has to be strong. Old. He’s been around a while to have that kind of power - for it to be this difficult for you to come out of the haze. Assuming he is the one that compelled out, of course, though it isn’t exactly a stretch based on his behavior.

It’s taking more concentration to keep from crying than you’d like.

Stranger, though, is the way they watch you. The way John works you back to reality. Most vampires would have been inappropriate while you were gone, wouldn’t bother with the borderline aftercare needed when coming out from under their spell. Most would have left you slumped in the booth - drained of blood or pleasure or both - laughing as they went.

You clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter and gathering your wits. “Can I get you gentleman anything else?”

They share a look, one that you can’t quite interpret.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” John asks, voice low.

You look up at him with big eyes. Childlike, almost, staring up in wonder. It’s so strange how vampires aren’t quite white - they just lack the redness of life. The pink under the skin that signifies a beating heart and limited life span.

“I’m sure.”

John presses closer, breath caressing the shell of your ear. “Thank you for being so gracious f’us, tonight.

“Always…” There’s an honestly behind the word that startles you. A craving deep in your bones to prove yourself worthy of him and his men.

Strange.

“We best be on our way.” Simon rumbles, prompting Johnny to let him out of the booth.

John’s eyes flick between yours briefly before he moves you off of his lap with the gentle touch one might use when handling fine china. As much as you want to stay there, dazed and still coming down, you have work to do. So, you stand after them and begin slowly gathering the empty glasses on the tray. They sit heavier in your hand the normal - each movement feels as though you’re moving through molasses.

A cold touch runs up your back and you freeze. Fingers trace the curve of your spine. You straighten, turning slowly only to meet those soft blue eyes again. John takes your hand, eyes alight with something you don’t understand. “I’ll tell the owner he’s wasting you as a servin’ girl. You’re made for more.”

Before you can even possibly decide how to respond, he’s gone. Disappeared through the curtain and into the forever night. Something crinkles in your hand. When you look down, slowly opening your fingers, the contents make your heart jump into your throat.

Cash. A massive roll of neatly banded cash.

How much is this? A few thousand? More?

With frightened eyes and slippery hands you tuck the cash into the secret pocket of your coat. Having that much cash on your person is so out of your wheelhouse - out of the realm of possibility- you don’t know how to react.

You didn’t even get to say thank you.

Your mind whirls as you finish up your shift, eyes glazed over while slipping on your coat and gathering your things from your locker to make the long trek home before the train stops running. The other girls look off put. A few whisper and stare. The air is heavy with the implication that they know something you don’t. They must. You aren’t exactly in on the gossip.

What do they think you did?

Then again, you think as you brace yourself for the lurching and squealing of the metro, there isn’t any way to know what happened. Not unless one of the vampires tells you, and good luck prying any information out of one of them. Even if they tell you, they can just make you forget all over again.

How did you behave? Were you the same as always? Were you an entirely different person?

Some people forget themselves when under compulsion - every inhibition thrown to the wind carelessly. You need your inhibitions. They keep your job secure and yourself safe. You can’t afford carelessness.

The walk back home is tense. That small bulk in your pocket burns a hole though you as your mind runs with every possibility of what might have happened. What you might have done to earn such a massive tip. It can’t have been dignified, could it? There’s no way they just like you. That’s not how vampires are. Then again, at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter. They liked you enough to pay you. There isn’t any point in trying to dissect such a simple transaction beyond that.

It takes everything to motivate yourself to actually take off your clothing and jewelry before falling into bed. However long they had you, it drained you. Left you tired and shaky as you crawl under the thick bundle of quilts that make up for the lack of heating in your home.

Your eyes meet the wad of cash that barely fit in the inner pocket of your coat. It feels like a threat. Use me well or lose me forever! Make me count because you’ll never see me again!

For now, at least, you can bask in the simple victory of it.

banner by @the-aesthetics-shop

[eunandonly]

contemplating : love, friendships and theories of time

୨୧ ; fate is a strange concept, isn’t it? because park sunghoon was the last person you had expected to see in your philosophy lecture in uni

pairing! philosophymajor!sunghoon x philosophymajor!reader | wc. 0.8k | warnings: wrong philosophy info, prob cringe EN-

🖇️ : philosophy major sunghoon SKDKDKSK. also, to the girly who asked for a uni fic for the science and maths girls, i hope you’re looking forward to my sunoo uni fic ~

you and sunghoon go WAYYYY back

he was your neighbour in that little picturesque town you both lived in, your mum's friend's annoying son who always seemed to be loitering around at your house

you thought your mum adopted him or smth bc why was he at your house more than his own?? — more under cut!!

you used to tease him about being homeless back in the days

but yk you two were best friends

but you and sunghoon kind of just drifted apart in high school after he moved during his freshman year at high school

you see his instagram posts sometimes, pictures of him out with his friends, jawline still jawlining

you sometimes even scroll down to his older posts where you are present in his photos, smiling next to him with a wide braces smile

but you never thought you would cross paths with park sunghoon again

that is, until university.

you walk into your first philosophy lecture and oh look there he is

park sunghoon sitting in one of the corners with his notebook looking like the exact definition of brooding intellectual

what is that guy doing here WHY IS HE HERE?

you two recognise each other instantly but there's this moment of awkwardness

like "oh, do you remember when we used to steal each other's snacks in 5th grade?"

except now he's all grown up, wearing wireframe glasses and quoting descartes during class discussions

you just try to focus on your lecture but you can't really forget about sunghoon being in your philosophy lecture

oh yeah, and he looks x100 hotter than you remember WHAT'S GOING ON

puberty hit him hard

after the lecture, you're about to pack your stuff and leave as soon as you can but he just strides up to you with his obnoxiously long legs

you always hated his stupid long legs you always had to run to catch up

you're certain he walked faster on purpose to leave you behind

ANYWAYS sunghoon just says long time no see in that smooth voice of his.

he's polite, maybe a bit shy, but there's a hint of a smile on his face and it's almost like the years of not seeing each other disappears

you two start hanging out more- grabbing coffee together before 8AM morning lectures designed to kill university students, studying together in the library

your mum is also really happy to hear that you've met sunghoon

you always knew she liked him better than you.

but you guys only get closer on a fateful thursday morning as you’re making your way to your morning lecture

because sunghoon is standing in the courtyard with a baby kitten in his arms whilst panicking

“y/n this cat keeps following me and she doesn’t have a mum.”

ofc you need to take it in SHE’S SO CUTE

you end up skipping lectures and spending the entire day with sunghoon to bring the cat to the vet and buy food

sunghoon wants to name the cat descartes but you veto that immediately

by the day is over, you have a kitten named mochi with sunghoon as a co-parent

now you’re seeing him all the time bc guess who has joint custody over mochi??

ok but spending time with sunghoon isn't as hard as you thought it would be

like yes he moved without a word and practically ghosted you in highschool

but it all feels really natural WHO CHEERED??

but between kitten playdates and philosophy study sessions stuff start feeling kinda different HMMM

which you didn’t think was possible btw sunghoon’s hobby is literally talking about existentialism and calligraphy

yeah and you knew him since he was five

ok but he looks really hot whilst talking about sartre NDJDKDKSKS

who knew you would start feeling all warm inside from sunghoon

not the 14 years old you in the past

but now everytime you touch in any way, you feel yourself flush pink

and you can’t ignore how sunghoon tries to act all nonchalant about it but his ears are turning red

how cute.

“you ever heard about hegel’s theory of love?”

“if you’re about to lecture me, i’m leaving.”

“no- listen, it’s about how love is this push and pull that makes you grow and stuff, and i don’t think i’m just studying it anymore. i think i’m feeling it, with you.”

ok that sounded a lot better in my head please don’t come for me

but yeah

aristotle believed everyone has a purpose they’re meant to fulfill. perhaps you didn’t know it back than, but losing touch with sunghoon and finding him again… it feels like you two were meant to meet in the future. perhaps it’s fate

✉️ : @icyy-hoon

[yujateaandpi]

This concept has been microwaving in my brain for so long— Sharkboy and Lavagirl but what if they were anticapitalist Polynesian demigods fighting big resort corps. Character bios below for anyone who’s interested!

🦈

Akamu is the son of Filipino marine biologist Joseph Ambong and Ka'ahupahau, the shark goddess of Pu’uloa. Raised by his grandmother after his father’s disappearance, Akamu is a PhD student working to protect marine macroecosystems. He’s professional and aloof at first glance, but only those closest to him know how reckless he truly is. He tries to act cool but he’s a bit childish and has a soft side for puns. He also has a cringe obsession with Jason Momoa.

His mana was inherited from his mother and gives him supernatural strength, speed, senses, and the ability to talk to animals. His demigod form is more natural so he takes time at night to let loose in secluded coves. After some slip ups, he’s accidentally started rumors about a horror cryptid named the Sharkman. He’s very proud of it, though Keahi scolds him to keep a low profile.

🌋

Keahi is the 140 year old reincarnation of the volcano goddess Pele. When she was ten, her village was raided during the overthrow of Queen Liliʻuokalani in 1893. She was tossed into the ocean and lay buried in her demigod form until Akamu found her in 2010. She awoke with amnesia. She stayed with the Ambongs for a couple years and became close friends with Akamu. After Joseph Ambong disappeared, she bounced around the foster care system both on and off the islands. Her powers manifested uncontrollably during this time, resulting in several arson charges.

After a tough few years, she returned to the islands to work, regain her memories, and reunite with her childhood friend. She still doesn’t remember everything, but she’s trying to enjoy her life a little at a time. Keahi is a peacemaker with a strong appreciation for the natural world. She has a cheerful disposition and comes off as naive sometimes, but deep down she carries the kind of wisdom that’s built from pain. She doesn’t like talking about her past.

Unlike Akamu, her mana was transferred directly from the soul of a goddess, making her essentially immortal. In a thousand years she will become the living embodiment of young underwater volcanoes and new islands. For now, she’s just trying to appreciate living a mortal life (and taking down some greedy tourist economies in the meantime).

I’m open to asks about these characters! I think about them. Every day.

[marginofthought]

hi queennn, i’m experiencing some drought can u recommend some extremely good wincest fics that u LOVE pretty please? 🫶

This is probably really disappointing because quite frankly I have not read much lately (or this year) But here are some that I had bookmarked that I honestly do not remember right now, so I am trusting past me. Also, these are not close to canon so be warned if that is what you are looking for:

Five Conversations Dean Doesn’t Have With His Brother About Their Wedding + One That He Does by Dyed_Red: "I made you a promise in that church" ends up being a lot more literal than Dean had realized. How exactly does one tell their brother they're married?

To Hell and Back sadly orphaned: Dean's deal is seven months from coming due when he finds out that Ben's really his kid. They take Ben in, because Winchesters never leave family, not if they can help it. So they get out of the hunting life and settle down. Only problem? Dean's started to fall for Sam. (definitely not for canon loving peeps)

Not My Heaven by FictionalNutter: Follows Dark Side Of The Moon. Sam doesn't understand what was wrong with his Heaven, and Dean is struggling to trust a brother who so clearly didn't care for his family. After hurtful words are exchanged and Sam leaves, Castiel finds himself explaining exactly how Heaven should've been for the Winchesters, and Dean realizes that he and Sam truly need each other.  The Dean/Sam is more implied than anything else, based on the concept that they're soulmates. So, this isn't proper Wincest, but it can easily be read that way if you're looking for it.

At Dawn A New Sun Rises by vaelaerion: Since he presented as an alpha at fourteen, Sam’s always felt a disconnect with his dynamic. He’s kept it a secret from most, along with a few other things—especially from Dean. One night Sam wakes up alone in an alley with no idea how he got there, only to discover the following day that he’s not an alpha anymore—he’s an omega. Now everything Sam’s tried to keep hidden slowly starts to unravel.

Show Them Our Bones by Writerforthem: It's been a long time since things were this bad between them. Since the last time Dean decided he didn't give two shits about what Sam said. It's bad enough to make Sam cringe now, wondering how he'll ever get on Dean's good side again. If that's even possible. How does one say 'Sorry, I didn't rescue you from Purgatory'? You don't, he thinks to himself. Finding an empty house in the woods where hikers have been disappearing might not be the best place to finally clear the air, but it seems as if they won't have much choice once Sam gets taken and Dean is faced with just how bad Sam is dealing with their current conflict.  (→  I do remember this one and I love it)

If You're Warm, Then You Can't Relate To Me by gothpandaotaku: Post S10E22 The Prisoner. "You know what I think? I think it should be you up there." The words keep running through Sam's head, like a song on repeat. The worst part is, he agrees with Dean. It should be him up there. How the hell is he supposed to tell Dean he's

[almostyours]

THE  MEMBERS  OF  HIRÆTH     @      the  angels  and  their  vessels.

"   good  and  evil  people  are  not  clearly  distinguished.   good  and  evil  coexist  within  one  person.   even  if  one  seems  good,   greed  and  temptation  always  exist  together  inside.   we  simply  try  to  resist  being  captivated  by  evil.   "

trigger  warnings:   parental  neglect,   emotional  abuse,  kidnapping/abduction  rumors,  exploitation,  isolation.

ACT  I    ⸺    you carried your family’s name with pride and honor,  but they neither cared nor appreciated it.  you spent years trying to earn their approval:  excelling in extracurriculars,  providing for them after long hours of work,  devoting yourself to your family’s shrine,  and becoming a standout in a japanese idol group where you were loved by many,  crowned the princess of japan at just eleven.  you were admired and adored,  but that adoration came with whispers behind your back,  cold shoulders when the cameras turned off,  and the kind of hostility that festers in the cracks of spotlight and success.  and yet,  you stayed,  hoping that it would be enough for…  your family?  your group?  maybe both.  maybe neither,  because their indifference never changed.  every night,  you cried yourself to sleep because you were empty and exhausted,  but you kept telling yourself that it didn’t matter,  that you were fine with this reality.  but if none of it mattered,  why does your blood still run hot every time you remember? ACT  II    ⸺    you disappeared at fifteen years old,  when she told you she could make your dream come true:  to be loved for your talent,  and for being entirely,  unapologetically yourself,  but only if you joined her exclusive angel project.  and,  ironically,  that’s when your family suddenly started to care.  the most popular theory was that a fan had kidnapped you,  and that your body was being worshipped in some shrine somewhere.  you still cringe the same way now as you did the first time you heard it. ACT  III    ⸺    you are the main rapper,  the lead dancer,  and the leader of hiraeth.  you’re the glue that holds the group together:  nurturing,  bright,  always the one to bring the fun into the group’s concept,  and the one trusted with every word you all sing.  you’re still known as the princess of japan,  and widely regarded as one of the generation’s best leaders,  not just for your talent,  but for the way your group thrives under your care.  hiraeth moves the way it does because of you:  your patience,  your instinct,  your ability to speak for them when the rest of the world is listening.  and while fans might beg for you to take center stage,  you’re content letting your members shine first,  preferring to work quietly in the background and pursue your passions on your own and at your own pace.  but is it really about humility,  or is it just easier to keep a low profile,  hiding behind a smile too polished to provoke doubt,  when the truth is...  you crossed a line no one else dared to,  and you’d do it again if it meant keeping the group exactly where they belong:  out of harm’s way,  because they’re the only family you’ve ever had. ACT  Æ    ⸺   you are the angel of summer,  born as a seashell drifting along the coast of a not-so-tranquil beach.  you are the angel aching to break free from celestia,  chasing what others call the impossible.  you believe in yourself and your dreams,  but faith without action is only wishful thinking,  and faith without hope is nothing more than a daydream.

STAGE  NAME.   kaia (카이아 , カイア) FULL  NAME.   hiiragi  kaoru  (柊かおる) IDENTITY.   cis-woman,  she/her,  bisexual BIRTHDAY.   12/10/96 ZODIAC.   libra BIRTHPLACE.   kagoshima,  japan LANGUAGES.   fluent  in  japanese  and  korean.  conversational  in  english  and  chinese. HEIGHT.   1.68 / 5’5  MBTI.   enfp OCCUPATION.   idol,  songwriter,  producer,  composer POSITION.   leader,  main rapper,  lead dancer SUB-UNITS.   cændy,  vivæ  (leader) INDIVIDUAL  ACCOLADES.   winner  of  the  grand  prize  in  the  composer  category  at  the  2018  korea  best  brand  award.   best  songwriter  winner  at  the  2020  melon  music  awards.   best  songwriter  winner  at  the  2022  asian  artist  awards.  and  more! OTHER  ACTIVITIES.  

former  member  of  japanese  girl  group  akb48.   ‘05-‘12

league  of  legend’s  akali  in  virtual  groups  k/da  and  true  damage.

producer  and  rap  mentor  in the second season of  fantasy  boy.  ‘23

japanese  voice  actress  for  navia  in  the video  game  genshin  impact.  ‘23

ANIMAL  REPRESENTATION.   cat COLOR  REPRESENTATION.   sweet  pink  (#ea9999) FRUIT  REPRESENTATION.   watermelon “BIRTH”  REPRESENTATION.   mermaid  seashell ANGEL'S PRINCIPLE.   faith FACECLAIM:   sana  minatozaki

trigger  warnings:  subtle  mentions  of  mental  and  physical  abuse,  childhood  trauma,  sexual  harassment,  mental  health  struggles,  suicidal  thoughts.

ACT  I    ⸺    you were born into a family of artists and performers where perfection wasn’t a choice,  it was etched into your skin before you even knew what it meant.  you were a delicate doll on a pedestal,  polished and admired by many,  all shine and no voice,  never truly seen.  your mother’s expectations were cold,  the hands that molded you spoke with words sharp enough to cut your innocence,  and the stage you once loved became a cage.  every step,  every turn,  was a silent plea for approval,  a quiet scream to feel something real.  it wasn’t just the pressure,  it was the kind of cruelty that seeps in slowly,  leaving marks that,  to this day,  you still can’t explain.  the silence when you asked for softness,  the bruises no one cared to see,  the way older eyes followed you,  hungry and cruel.  and still,  there was music.  a secret place you escaped to when no one was watching,  where sound became your language,  your lifeline.  your perfect pitch was more than a talent,  it was a breath of air in a world that never let you breathe.  sadly,  you weren’t made for that life,  your mother once said.  you made it to the top as a dancer,  graceful and untouchable,  a rising prima ballerina with hollow eyes.  the joy had long since slipped away,  and though the world called you flawless,  you were just a shadow moving through the motions,  smiling like you meant it,  even when you didn’t. ACT  II    ⸺    you disappeared at sixteen,  the night you accepted a cigarette from her while hiding behind the overgrown ivy of square edouard vii,  just steps from the back of the opera.  it didn’t take long to convince you to join the project,  honestly…  your head was clouded,  your eyes were tired,  and your body ached from routines you no longer loved.  you had no passion left for the stage,  only the aching urge to disappear,  to start a new chapter.  the world whispered theories in your absence,  of course:  there was too much pressure on your shoulders!  you were too young and there were too many rules!  you were just a perfect little ballerina crumbling under a heavy weight!  they said you’d jumped and ended it all.  sometimes you wish they had been right. ACT  III    ⸺    you are the visual,  the main dancer,  and the lead vocalist of hiraeth.  you are the face everyone remembers:  miss korea,  the black swan,  the woman who turns silence into awe with just one glance.  elegance follows you like a shadow,  every movement precise,  and every word perfectly measured with a dash of unseriousness,  because how could anyone ignore such a candid personality?  your image lives on billboards,  in endorsements,  in headlines that never stop calling you flawless.  but the life so many admire and others envy,  feels distant,  like something happening to someone else.  most days,  you drift through it with grace,  yet strangely untouched,  carrying an ache that never quite fades.  you crave something quieter,  something slower—something that feels like peace,  away from the eyes that never stop watching your every move.  but you stay,  because somewhere along the way,  your group became your refuge.  your relationship with your members,  performing with them,  making music with them,  for them,  is the only thing that feels real to you.  being near them helps,  and you try to enjoy it—  you really,  really do!  you let their laughter pull you back and their enthusiasm seep into you,  even if only for a little while.  but some nights,  when the world is quiet and your thoughts won’t stop,  you wonder,  what would really change if you disappeared again? ACT  Æ    ⸺   you are the angel of spring,  born from a daisy among decayed roses.  you are the angel who is stuck in the "what could have been’s" and the "what if’s" of a loop you're pretty much aware of.  you were made to believe in love,  but your love had turned dull when it broke.  your love has been lacking faith and hope to flourish,  and for love to thrive,  it must be nurtured with faith and hope to make it stronger,  but how can you see it if you feel nothing?

STAGE  NAME.   poppy  (양귀비) FULL  NAME.   kim  hwa-young  (김화영) ENGLISH  NAME.  penelope  kim  IDENTITY.   cis-woman,  she/her,  bisexual BIRTHDAY.   01/07/96 ZODIAC.   cancer BIRTHPLACE.   changwon,  south korea LANGUAGES.   fluent  in  korean,   french  and  japanese.  conversational  in  english  and  chinese.   can  understand  some  spanish. HEIGHT.   1.57 / 5’2  MBTI.   infj OCCUPATION.   idol,  actress,  producer,  dancer,  composer POSITION.   center,  visual, main dancer,  lead vocalist SUB-UNITS.   vivæ,  fævorite  (leader) INDIVIDUAL  ACCOLADES.   best  new  actress  winner  at  the  2022  baeksang  arts  awards,  korea  drama  awards,  asian  academy  creative  awards,  and  others.  best  producer  winner  at  the  2022  asian  artist  awards,   becoming  the  first  woman  recipient  of  the  accolade  in  the  show's  history.  and  more! OTHER  ACTIVITIES.   

student  at  paris  opera  ballet.   ‘07-‘12

league  of  legend’s  ahri  in  virtual  group  k/da.

portrayed  jang-man wol  in  hotel  del  luna.   ‘22

mentor  in  the  second  season  of  queendom.  ‘22

host  in  the  first  season  of  queendom  puzzle.  ‘23

korean  voice  actress  for  navia  in  the video  game  genshin  impact.  ‘23

will  portray  sophie  baek  in  the  fourth  season  of  bridgerton.   ‘26

ANIMAL  REPRESENTATION.   bunny COLOR  REPRESENTATION.   lilac blush  (#b88bd9) FRUIT  REPRESENTATION.   apple “BIRTH”  REPRESENTATION.   daisy ANGEL'S PRINCIPLE.   love FACECLAIM:   kim  jisoo

trigger  warnings:  child  exploitation,  emotional  neglect  and  abuse,  subtle  mentions  of  bullying,  physical  abuse  and  sexual  harassment.

ACT  I    ⸺    you were born with a voice your father couldn’t bear to waste.  by the time most kids were learning to ride bikes,  you were holding notes that stopped strangers in their tracks.  talent shows in china,  in chicago—  literally everywhere you went,  you won.  it wasn’t long before your name found its way onto playbills,  your face into dimly lit dressing rooms where stagehands whispered they are the one to watch.  young roles in local broadway productions turned you into a darling of the scene.  small in stature,  but larger than life.  theater enthusiasts adored you,  critics called you a prodigy,  and your father called it business.  you were mentored by people who lived and breathed the craft,  molded by scripts and songs that taught you how to disappear inside other people’s stories.  you learned to cry on cue,  to smile through it,  to take a bow with trembling hands no one ever noticed.  your voice filled theaters and your name filled his pockets.  and his gaze?  it only ever landed on you when the applause did too.  outside the stage lights,  you were harder to place.  too polished.  too praised.  way too strange,  maybe.  the kids at school didn’t quite know what to do with you.  there were whispers,  jabs,  quiet isolation masked as jealousy.  but none of that mattered when the curtains rose and you started singing.  onstage,  you were safe.  you were seen.  onstage,  you were someone who was loved.  and for a while,  that was enough.  or so you told yourself. ACT  II    ⸺    you disappeared at fourteen,  the night your father raised his hand to land a hit on you,  the night you finally spoke for yourself.  you weren’t his to own,  to control,  to force into doing things that would continue staining you and your innocence.  and when you ran,  you never looked back.  they probably blamed him for your disappearance,  but little did they know that that’s when she found you,  at your lowest,  hiding under a bridge near your house.  she promised a world of opportunities,  love,  and the chance to use your potential to the fullest,  if only you joined her.  and you were just a kid,  with nowhere to belong,  no family to turn to.  how could you say no?  ACT  III    ⸺    you are the main vocalist and the face of hiraeth.  you’re regarded as a golden maknae,  the generation’s ithey,  a name people started using after you came out as non-binary,  and you’ve made history as the first idol to ever be recognized by the major associations as an actress.  your voice is unmistakable and your energy is pure electric.  you’re loud,  talented,  enthusiastic,  and always saying a little bit too much,  but somehow it only ever works in your favor.  you’re the one brands and collaborators fight over,  the one who sells out everything without even trying.  it seems that everyone loves you,  or at least,  they love the version of you that they see every time you’re on camera.  and you don’t mind.  not really,  because it’s fun being everywhere,  being wanted and seen.  you’re good at it,  and you know it.  but sometimes,  when the noise dies down and it’s just you and your thoughts,  you think about how fast everything’s moving.  how high you’re climbing and how easy it might be to fall…  but you want more and that hunger keeps you going,  even when it scares you a little.  still,  there’s something kind of thrilling about chasing it anyway. ACT  Æ    ⸺   you are the angel of winter,  born as a drifting snowflake that fell in the snowy garden of celestia.  you are the angel that doesn’t mind celestia nor the loop at all.  if it means having fun over and over with the promise of always going back to zero to repeat,  why would you try to escape?  and you are hopeful for all the outcomes of your lives,  but there is nothing to hope for without faith,  determination,  and love,  both for others and yourself…

STAGE  NAME.   yvan  (이반 , 伊万) FULL  NAME.   yaoyao  liu  (姚刘) ENGLISH  NAME.  yvanna  liu  IDENTITY. non-binary, they/she, lesbian BIRTHDAY.   15/06/97 ZODIAC.   gemini BIRTHPLACE.   xi’an,  china LANGUAGES.   fluent  in  chinese,   korean  and  english.  currently  learning  japanese. HEIGHT.   1.70  /  5’7 MBTI.   entp OCCUPATION.   idol,  model,  songwriter,  critically  acclaimed  actress,  producer POSITION.   maknae,  main vocalist,  face  of  the  group SUB-UNITS.   cændy  (leader),  fævorite INDIVIDUAL  ACCOLADES.   best  female  artist  winner  at  the  2019  mama  awards,  melon  music  awards,  and  global  chinese  music  awards.   best  supporting  actress  at  the  2024  academy  awards,  bafta  awards,  saga  awards,  golden  globes,  etc.,  making  history  as  the  first  every  k-pop  idol  to  ever  win  an  oscar.  and  more! OTHER  ACTIVITIES.   

contestant  at  multiple  chinese  televised  shows.  ‘05-09

part  of  the  chorus  in  various  local  shows.  ‘05-10

portrayed  the  annie  in  chicago’s  production  of  annie.  ‘07

portrayed  young  cosette  in  chicago’s  production  of  les  misérables.  ‘09-10

portrayed  jane  banks  in  new  york’s  production  of  mary  poppins.  ‘10-11

portrayed  matilda  wormwood  in  pre-broadway  production  of  matilda  the  musical.  ‘12

vocal  mentor  in  girls  planet  999.   ‘22

korean  and  chinese  voice  actress  for  disney’s  little  mermaid  as  ariel.  ‘23

portrayed  zhang  wei  in  web  series  celebrity.   ‘23

voiced  velvet  in  trolls  band  together.  ‘23

chinese  voice  actress  for  navia  in  the video  game  genshin  impact.  ‘23

portrayed  in  the  musical  adaptation  of  rebecca  as  “i”.  ‘24

portrayed  glinda  in  the  film  adaptation  of  the  musical  wicked.   ‘24

ANIMAL  REPRESENTATION.   puppy COLOR  REPRESENTATION.   cloudy  blue  (#6fa8dc) FRUIT  REPRESENTATION.   strawberry “BIRTH”  REPRESENTATION.   snowflake ANGEL'S PRINCIPLE.   hope FACECLAIM:   yuqi  song

[hobiebrownismygod]

IMAGINE Having miles suprise you by crawling into your room invisible since you guys are long distance- aka live in other dimensions ugh I need to touch some grass

Bonus points if you have strict parents so he cuddles you invisible

Wait this is actually so cute I'm obsessed 😭 I want him so badly istg he seems like he'd be the perfect boyfriend

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .MASTERLIST ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . TAGLIST ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

It'd been approximately 4 weeks, 6 days, 7 hours and 57- no, 58 minutes since you'd last seen your boyfriend, Miles Morales. Not that you were counting or anything.

You missed him.

Having an S/O that lived in another dimension definitely had its consequences, with the two of you almost never getting to see each other. Even though you had watches and could travel to each other's homes whenever you wanted, the responsibility of being Spider-man came first, and because of that it made it difficult for the two of you to really make time to see each other.

Then of course, the two of you were also teenagers, forced to attend school and keep up good grades while also shouldering the weight of being literal superheroes. That kind of stuff took a toll on a person. In fact, this particular week had been hard, to the point where you just wanted to curl up in your bed and stare at the pictures of him you had on your phone, silently praying for a chance to see him again.

But you were busy. You had midterms. You had your extracurriculars. You didn't have time.

This particular evening, you'd just arrived home from a late after-school extracurricular and taken a shower, having sat down to start working on your homework for the night when you heard a quiet scratch of the window. You looked back over at the open curtains, seeing nothing. Weird.

But your spider-sense wasn't going off, which meant it was probably nothing. You shrugged to yourself before looking back down at your notes, clutching your forehead in frustration as you tried to grasp the concepts on the sheet of paper.

And then, you watched as a small, bright yellow sunflower drifted down from above you, falling perfectly in your lap. It took a second for you to process the sight before you looked back up, a wide smile spreading across your face. "Hey, sunshine."

"Miles!" You exclaimed as you watched him appear on the ceiling above you, invisibility wearing off. He jumped down, and you immediately jumped up and pulled him into a big hug, leaving the sunflower lying daintily on the floor. "Woah" he let out a soft gasp at how tightly you squeezed him. "I-I can't breathe-" he squeaked out, struggling in your unrelenting grasp.

"I missed you so much." you whispered under your breath, practically burying your face into the soft fabric covering his chest. "Missed you too." he replied softly, arms wrapping around your was it in response to your tight, but welcomed embrace. "You okay? You look tired."

"I'm great." You said, taking a slight step back, looking him up and down with a stupid grin on your face. "I haven't seen you in a while-you look great!" You cringed at your own words, realizing how awkward you seemed.

He chuckled under his breath, lightly smiling back at you, that golden retriever look of his plastered across his face. "You look beautiful as always." He sounded fairly awkward himself, but he was handling it better than you. He pulled you in a little slightly, gently pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead.

Suddenly, both your senses went off. Miles disappeared with a pop, right as your mom entered the room. "Were you talking to someone?" She asked confusedly, looking around. You stood in the middle of the room, hands pinned down to your sides. "No." You lied, giving her a fake smile. "Just studying."

She raised an eyebrow at you before slowly and cautiously closing the door behind her as she left. You let out a sigh of relief, right before you felt your arm being pulled back. Still invisible, Miles pulled you down onto the bed, arms wrapped around your waist as he hugged you.

It was a strange sensation.

"This is so trippy..." you said under your breath. "Huh?" He asked confusedly.

"Nothing." you quickly replied, burying your face in his invisible neck, enjoying the feeling of his warmth spreading around you. "It's a little weird, but this is the easiest way for me to stay here without getting you caught." He laughed, pecking your cheek before leaning in to give you a real kiss, for the first time in a month. You returned it. "Weird is one word for it. But it doesn't matter." you said, shaking it off before snuggling into him.

"I'm just glad you're here."

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Taglist: @therealloopylupin2099 @daydreaming-en-pointe @l0starl @niqetine @gwennesy @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @d0ubl-tr0ubl3

[cx-boxbox]

I was going to write a fic about Lando wanting to wear pretty clothes, but I gave up after a couple scenes. Anyway, here's the only part I kept:

Lando’s fingers twitch nervously as he collects his packages, fiddling with the corners and ducking under the tape sealing the flaps shut, but he’s careful not to accidentally open them where anyone can see. It was already embarrassing enough to ask the concierge for them, and he cringed at the heavily branded boxes. The lady probably now thinks he has a secret girlfriend or something.

It’s nice out in Melbourne, and Lando is more than happy to swap the polo and jeans he wore to the paddock for a new purple v-neck that’s so soft and light to the touch it might disintegrate between his fingers and shorts that are just a tad bit shorter than the ones he ran around the city in. He has already been photographed without his shirt within days of arriving, so if he does bump into someone, it shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise.

But it is really just Lando’s luck that he quite literally smacks into his teammate’s back as he rounds the corner.

Oscar straightens with his bucket of ice, blinks at him, and asks, “Where are you going in such a rush?”

Lando folds his arms over his chest.

“Dinner. Not a foreign concept to you, hopefully.”

“‘Course not.” What is a foreign concept is how Oscar’s gaze keeps drifting south, flickering between the plunging neckline of Lando’s shirt and his upper thighs.

Oh, how interesting, he thinks, amused. Out loud, he asks, “Wanna come with? I have no idea which places are trainer-approved.”

It takes a moment for Oscar to shrug and respond, “Sure, why not. Teammate bonding and such, right?”

Lando gasps and plucks the bucket from Oscar’s hands. He pokes Oscar’s shoulder for good measure. “We’re plenty bonded, mate!” Not as much as he’d like, but still. “Just admit that you’re simply leaping at the idea of spending time with me away from the paddock.”

“I’m going to bring you to a seafood restaurant.”

“Aah! No, no, don't do that. I dressed up so pretty, I even shaved, and you’re not ruining my hard work with, eugh, fish.”

Once again, Oscar’s gaze travels over Lando’s figure, and Lando is incredibly delighted to see red tinting his cheeks. He preens a little, which he cannot be blamed for.

It’s so flattering that it more than makes up for Oscar’s simple affirming, “Hm.”

God, Lando would be so over this whole flirting-not-quite-boyfriends thing if it wasn’t so entertaining. He just hopes that Oscar’s patience doesn’t run out before either one of them gives in and just confesses. He also hopes that he isn’t misreading anything either. That would be fucking humiliating.

The little smiles and full-body laughter Lando regularly receives from him keeps him hopeful at best and delusional at worst.

On the way to Oscar’s hotel room, Lando asks what he planned on doing with the ice, and he only receives a shrug and a mumbled, “You never know when you just need a bucket of ice.”

“That’s fair.”

“Speaking of ice, are you going to be cold in just that? It gets cooler in the evenings, and your circulation sucks.”

“A price I’m willing to pay. Have you considered that maybe your circulation is working overtime? That it might be doing too much?” Lando retorts in lieu of admitting that he didn’t actually think that far ahead in his nervous excitement. A green hoodie promptly hits him in the face.

It’s not McLaren merch. It’s OP81 merch, and it smells like Oscar. Lando resists the urge to ball it up and shove his face into it.

“Just hold onto it if you don’t wanna wear it now,” Oscar says before disappearing into the bathroom. He re-emerges in a long-sleeved shirt and trousers that don’t have drawstrings. Lando almost breathes a sigh of relief. Small mercies.

Oscar’s hoodie also ends up being one of those small mercies, and Lando burrows into it comfortably as they take a longer route back to the hotel because the city after dark is nice. Oscar raises an eyebrow at him in his subtly gloating fashion, which Lando ignores in favor of tucking his nose into the collar.

“You look prettier in my hoodie,” Oscar mumbles.

“Huh?”

“Never mind. We’re here anyway.”

[comatosebunny09]

Hello! First off I wanted to thank you for posting fhe latest chapter of Carpe Noctem. Writing take so much effort and I want you to know that you are very much appreciated! I am sorry to hear about the copying thing. I haven’t come across it yet but it must have sucked especially when you have put so much effort into the concept.

I wanted to yell more about the recent chapter because the diner scene especially made me scream - it captures the reader and Sylus’s dynamic so well! And it was just. So. Cool!! And then and then and then with them in the safe house finally! Everything was so well-written!

And because I’m a sucker for angst what if his phone suddenly rings and it’s her she’s back early and he forgets where he was for 2 seconds so he pulls away from you and answers out of muscle memory because of course, why wouldn’t he, right. You’re so dumb, this was just to fill the absence and she’s your friend how could you do this so you slip out quietly, as you should, disappearing into the night so he could focus on her. It was only for a few seconds, he hurries a “sorry sweetie, I’ll call you back” out of his lips and turns and you’re gone. For days. And he’s out his mind with worry.

Sorry for the word vomit, your stories and concepts are so, so incredible and I hope you continue and keep the passion burning. have a great day!!

Hello, sug!

Thank you for being so supportive and taking the time to read carpe noctem. I’m blessed that you liked it. I was afraid to post the latest chapter because I feared it wouldn’t live up to the first few parts I shared. But I am grateful for the amount of feedback I’ve received on it. 🥹🥹����

It’s a shitty feeling. I tried to sleep on it last night and allow myself time to calm down before I reached out to the person who duplicated my work. I poured my experiences, feelings, and thoughts into carpe noctem and limerence, so it was very disheartening to see someone take something I’ve been working on for months that is l literally a part of me pass it off as their own.

But enough of that.

I’m glad you enjoyed the diner scene. 😭😭😭 I was so afraid to incorporate that because I was thinking, “Is this really necessary? Is this cringe?” But I wanted to provide more insight into Sylus and the reader’s relationship, as they’ve been thick as thieves since she began working more closely with him.

Sylus’ Night of Secrecy card heavily influenced the safe house scene. I wanted to write something similar but with my own twist. Again, I was terrified to incorporate this, but I feel that it was somewhat of a turning point for their relationship. Some progress where they’ve spent four years dancing around each other.

I’ve been watching so many C-Dramas these days where right before two love interests kiss, a phone rings, and one of them is compelled to answer it. It drives me insane! Like, does no one silence their phones anymore?!

But, I did consider implementing that idea for carpe noctem, where Luke or Kieran call right before things get too heated, alerting Sylus that everything following the reader’s mission has been cleaned up. And right after, the spell between them is broken, and the reader realizes what a mistake she made after retreating to one of the guest rooms. I didn’t think to have MC on the phone. 🤔🤔🤔 That’s not a terrible idea, actually. For the reader to hear her friend’s voice on the speaker and, it snaps her back into reality.

Sylus would drive himself sick with worry, wondering if he had crossed a line, if he had misread things and pushed her too far. This is the kind of pain I ache for. I will be thinking about this for days.

Again, thank you so much for reaching out to me and feeding my brain worms! Once I get out of this funk, I’ll definitely consider your suggestions for the updates. I hope you have a lovely day!

[misshollowayss]

speak on richie gimme my BOYFIE

because i love u sm, and also love him, I COME BRINGING GIFTS <33333

cw: contains mentions of bullying, drug/substance abuse, the concept of grief. tw: drug/substance abuse. note: this is my headcannon(s) regarding the lipschitz/matthew family tree- you do not have to agree with me, just be respectful!

NOW THATS OUTTA THE WAYYYYY, time to talk about the world’s worst weeaboo.

RICHARD ‘RICHIE’ LIPSCHITZ is featured in nerdy prudes must die, and workin’ boys. he’s played by the legendary jon matteson and he brings a refreshing take on the anime obsessed best friend.

𝙰͟ 𝚂͟𝚃͟𝚄͟𝙳͟𝚈͟ 𝙸͟𝙽͟ :͟ ͟ ͟ ͟ growing up thinking that you were at fault for everything in your life, finding safety in fiction, selfshipping with your waifus and husbandos as a means to compensate for something, being chronically ill, being apart of a tight-knit friend group, being cringe equating to being free.

─┈ㅤ ⠀RICHARD LIPSCHITZ was born on january 17th, alongside his twin brother, trevor at 21:30. jessica ‘jessie’ matthews had given birth, albeit, surprisingly even though her physical and mental health was actively depleting due to her history of addiction. richard, born first with weak lungs had been sent to the NICU, shortly after the birth of his younger twin brother. jessica had watched as her babies were transported to another room. their father was not present at all during the birth, yet they took his last name. he never came around after that.

for everyone in the matthews household, the birth of richie and trevor was a happy event. joanne and gavin came quickly to see their grandsons and fawned over the beautiful boys. sleeping soundly, beside each other in their own bassinets.

growing up, richie had known for the longest time that he and his brother would be different. they may have been identical, but they were opposites as can be. trevor was more sociable, outgoing and energetic. richie, was different though. richie, at a young age, would remain to the sidelines, finding comfort with his books and himself. he was awkward, and he didn't care for many things. joanne, his grandmother often commented on how richie reminded her of his uncle, paul. on top of his awkward tendencies, he made often hospital visits for his asthma and soon his hyperhydrosis ( overactive sweat glands ).

jessica, after the boys were born had left them with her parents, relapsing into her addictions. the twins lived primarily with their grandparents, and then permanently when their mother disappeared. the boys were only five. richie didn't fully understand what would happen, and why his mother's visits became less frequent. the gifts he got that christmas were never labeled with 'from: mommy'. things were a blur for a long time. in a way, he knew he had to be at fault for her leaving. mom never came back, grandma and grandpa were sadder, uncle paul was the only one that consistently spoke to the boys. they didn’t understand anything. and richie knew, deep down, somewhere that he was the reason his mom didn’t come back.

it didn’t process properly that something happened to his mom, until duke had begun coming by. he brought a few toys for him and trevor. trevor, happy as can be, took the toys to show their grandmother just down the hall, whereas richie sat behind.

“hi richie, people call me duke, you can call me that too.” he had smiled. “hi.” when he was little, he barely had any confidence speaking with anyone that wasn’t immediate family. “i heard that there’s some big stuff going on.” “where’s my mom?” richie shook his head, confused at the notion. it’s been a few weeks, and a few people have come by. they apologized to him, but he was only five! duke had taken a moment, a breath being tucked as he said, “richie, your mom’s not coming back..” “did she go away?” “,,, yeah. yeah, she went away.” richie, as if he expected it, had nodded. “okay.”

that, was that. richie sat with those feelings that night, afraid to sleep. he was afraid to wake and be in the darkness that taunted his nightmares. whenever he’d wake from one, he’d spring up, and wipe his tears away. he couldn’t cry and go to grandma or grandpa, or even uncle paul. so he dealt, sniffling into his blankets. it had to be his fault that she didn’t come back.

jessica matthews never returned to the household, then again, she was less frequent with her visits to begin with.

despite the absence of either of his parents, he thinks he grew up well-rounded. his grandparents did everything they could, raising three children with a six year age gap, and the oldest being in his twenties and still staying home. he grew up as normal as can be.

whenever he was in the fourth grade, he met peter spankoffski. the two had been placed together, desks across from each other. richie had seen the star wars stickers on the boy's binder, and scoffed. star wars was lame. it wasn't until he saw pete pull out a spiderman pencil case. richie's eyes widened before he was quick to say, "spiderman is my favorite marvel character." pete, in response, agreed, "mine too."

the two had become quick friends from that moment on. fourth grade was a trial for richie, however, max jägerman had taken target to peter and himself, duke had been coming by more to check on him and trevor, his uncle paul had been helping them move into his place. grandma and grandpa were happy with this decision, and had reassured the twins that they would always have space at their home.

unfortunately, fourth grade was around the time where books and fiction had become a more prevalent in his life. he was introduced to manga around this time. his first manga was, in fact, attack on titan. he had picked up the book, intrigued as to why the monster on the cover was an anatomic horror show. he was enthralled, and quickly engrossed himself in everything revolving around the media.

with the idea of finding comfort within a world that gigantic humanoid monsters and a military that was risking their lives for the rich hiding behind safety, richie would grow to further understand the main character: eren jäger’s need to prove himself. he even thought mikasa was a character he’d want to be with romantically ( this began his idea of selfshipping at the age of 11/12 ).

the early years of elementary school were also, the time where he had been diagnosed with autism and a few other diagnoses. GAD, depression and c-ptsd compared to his brother who received a GAD and adhd diagnosis. from early elementary, he had been with tools to help him ( however living with your uncle who also is avoidant as possible with his OWN emotions made it hard sometimes ).

as if finding his best friend in fourth grade was bad enough, he met ruth fleming in middle school ( guaranteed to be the cringiest time of his life ). the three of them had been sat in a pod together, yet again, and as if it was fate— it all clicked. the duo was fixed to their trio and ruth was a perfect addition to the group.

richie’s love for anime grew during this time, and he definitely had found a few medias that he shouldn’t ( cough, dramatical murder to list one - and hetalia ). while attack on titan remained a special interest for him and a love that’s near and dear to his heart, neon genesis evangelion also grew to the level of interest. middle school was THE time to be free— between the three of them, all of them had their things. they all had their interests that they made a goal for each of them to learn by proxy, and even when richie or pete would be the target of bullying, they all had each other.

middle school was also the steady incline of bullying for richie, being often ‘farted on’, and name calling had started. "shitlips" was the nickname that richie bore, holding that title all throughout the rest of his academic career. he'd try and rub off most of the bullying, but in the end, it's hard to stand up for yourself against the most important people in town. so he dealt, and bared whatever he could. on occasion, he'd try making himself more nerdy on purpose ( as if that'd do anything at all ).

he had gotten ahold of hairdye at thirteen. that, in itself was a mess. at thirteen, richie had braces and was self-conscious about his physical appearance. being thirteen was hard enough! that age was awful for everyone that could remember what it was like. there's something universal about it,,, unless you're max jagerman or brad callahan. then you have no room to speak.

hairdye.

hairdye was the main thing that richie had bought from walmart the last visit they had made for groceries, and held off from using it. after hours of watching videos on youtube, he went in for the kill and started the bleach. paul had come home from work to find one of his nephews downstairs doing homework, the other upstairs in the boys bathroom.

after the bleach, richie peered into the mirror, then seeing his uncle in the doorframe.

"whatcha doing?" paul asked, an amused but relatively confused smile drawing over his features. there was a moment of silence before richie blurted, "drugs?" which caused him to immediately regret that. "why would you say that when you clearly aren't doing that?" "i dunno! i panicked and got nervous. but, i'm trying to dye my hair to make brad callahan and max jägerman stop picking on me. and so i can look cool." richie admitted, deafetedly.

paul had taken another long look at the boy's now bleached hair, and took a slow breath, "what.. what color are you planning on dyeing it?"

as if he expected the question, richie pulled out a bottle of arctic fox's shade, aquamarine and swallowed. "this shade of blue. and i watched a lot of videos so i won't mess up the bathroom, i promise." he swore, when paul took the bottle from him.

giving it a closer look, his brows furrowed, then he looked back to richie with a skeptical look in his eye. "do.. you need help?" he asked.

"do you even know how to dye hair? no offense, but your hair has remained the same since you were little, uncle paul." richie gestured to the older.

"yeah, i know how to dye hair." he said before placing the bottle of dye on the counter sink and came closer, inspecting the bleach job before he looked at the empty bowl for the dye. he acted fast, popping the cap off and emptied the contents into the bowl itself.

richie didn't expect the bonding experience that the two had, but the outcome was worth it. an excitable richard with now a shock of blue hair, that matched the bands of his braces. "oh wow-! i look like aoba from dramatical murder!” that was a character he should not want to look like, but he had to give him credit for nearly all of his sexual awakening to that game. without it, he’d be probably a prude. no one wants to be a prude.

now highschool was a different story. at sixteen, richie became infatuated with film and cinematography. film in general had quickly grown to a high level interest, and because of this, he received a camcorder for his birthday. trevor received a recorder and a few other things, but richie had already begun recording. he utilized the camcorder for things such as video diaries and experimented often with recording the dnd sessions that he, pete and ruth had every two weeks. paul had done good with gifts that year, even if it was hard to properly find out what the boys wanted. trevor was easy to please, but he did have to be careful with richie's gift. needless to say, he was glad the camcorder is one of richie's prized possessions.

during highschool, the bullying worsened, but he persisted nonetheless against it. he met grace during this time, against his own will, yet again. the two would become unlikely friends, after an unexpected infodump about the waylon place from grace. then, he met didrika kumar during calculus and complimented their headphones. the stickers on them were cool, but granted, the way he went about the compliment was.... not what you'd expect. i'll let you imagine how that went down specifically.

he had taken interest in the swim team, but went against the idea. richie had thought that he didn't fit the idea of a swimmer. he by no means was athletic, he was asthmatic, and was too much on occasion to be around. so the second best option? being the school's mascot.

zeke the fighting nighthawk.

his first game was during his sophmore year, and when he had put on the mask, he felt safe. there was a layer of animosity behind zeke, that richie found comfort in. not everyone knew who he was, who zeke was, really. the identity of zeke the nighthawk would never be revealed, and his predecessor before him ( the senior that graduated two years before him; dylan grahm ) had said that people would try to find out his identity. true, there were people who did, but not everyone cared. the fact that not everyone cared made him feel better, he didn't have to meet everyone's expectations. he was just richie, richie who just so happened to be the biggest part of the football team ( minus the qb, max jägerman ).

there was an incident, about half-way through the football season, during halftime, richie had been doing well, getting the student section as loud as they can, the cheerleaders riled up as much as they could... but, he wasn't looking when he had tripped over his own feet and fell square on his face. thankfully the mask didn't come off, but that was forever marked as THE worst moment he could've ever handled. unfortunately, this did garner negative attention from max, and brad.

bullying, as i said, progressed. now namecalling had evolved into physical attacks. flick-it tickets, and being punched in the gut from time to time! it was,, a time and richie had hated coming home from school with fresh bruises that he didn't know how to explain. so, he'd hide in his room on more occasion. he didn't want to worry his uncle. that was the last thing on his list.

at seventeen, he had his braces taken off and relief had washed over him in the dental chair. by this point, he and didrika had been together for nearly a year, and let's also just say, they matched each other's freaks. over the summer, he witnessed pete and the mayor's daughter, stephanie lauter blossom into,, a romance. they said abstinence camp brought them together. weird.

by senior year, when he thought life couldn't throw anymore hurdles at him, he didn't expect didi's friend, evangaline goodreau, to be with him??? it was an awkward intergration, considering earlier in the year they had planned a prank on max before. thank god he jumped away before the floor fully gave out beneath him. how bad would it be if the quarterback of the hatchetfield nighthawks got seriously injured? or worse-

but, as tense as the new addition was, the nerds had grown into a large group! himself, ruth, pete, steph, didrika, eva, max ( and soon grace ). they'd be awkward, loud, rambunctious even as a group, but it'd lead to so many amazing moments that richie would catch on his camcorder. between TNTL in pete's backyard, d&d sessions, sleepovers, and even the conversations that'd come up in lunch, richie was glad for all that came his way. hey, at least it's better than... well, you know.

now, at eighteen, he plans to go into school for film study or even graphic design. he's an avid listener of 𝗦͟𝗪͟𝗜͟𝗡͟𝗚͟𝗜͟𝗡͟' 𝗧͟𝗛͟𝗘͟ 𝗛͟𝗔͟𝗧͟𝗖͟𝗛͟𝗘͟𝗧, a podcast that didi and steph showed the group. he's apart of the mathletes, the GSA, and the school's broadcast team. he still lives with his uncle and his brother, but now, paul has a girlfriend, the crabby barista from beanies. trevor has a,, boyfriend? he doesn't know. and yes, he still actively wears anime merch proudly, and still sports that shock of blue. highschool was killing him, but he thinks that it's gearing towards something better... at least he hopes so.

AAAA THERE YOU GO!!! so i will say, that this is set in a timeline in which, max never died, therefore richie and ruth never did either!! however, there are still some crazy stuff that happens in this au hehehe. i hope you guys enjoyed!!

RICHIE GRAPHIC : made by yours truly ( me! ). if you guys like this, i'll make more for other characters!! i might make a section in my intro for graphic rqs! idk yet tho!

[haeresys-realm]

More than disgusting to see.

How can children fantasies be that dumb and cringe. Just why. How. How can they look at asexual male dominative male scientist character and think....this?! It spoils all mood to normal people. Please make smth with your perception. The lore reality is absolutely opposite to your strange fantasies.

------

P.S. and Upd.

Ok then. How much crybabies will tape 😭😭😭 and try to humiliate the one they don't even know just because he thinks otherwise and opposed to them have objective reasons and arguments? You don't humiliate me by this, kids, you humiliate yourselves.

As I see by these reblogging (my bad I didn't know how to turn it off and didn't even thought that little note will have such resonating) and inadequate attention and reactions, even meine lieben Tumblr started to be a new X/twitter or reddit junk; please stop it and let people express their opinion without wheeping to your little jackal friendies how much someone's normal views fucked you up. I'm stressed and frustrated, and this even makes me (my wife, friends and all people who still can think not following every new trends) feel too much more bad because even your negative campaigning is not smth that will make make me glad, I don't search for popularity, but I'm always happy to see people who are not these superficial and naive youngsters who consider themselves entitled to play with other peoples concepts and consider that they can do anything with them. As long as theyre young, theyre cocky, considering themselves adults, thinking right and that the world belongs to them. And thats why I hate modern kids so much; I already know that attempts to explain something to them lead to a culture of cancellation and attempts to copy you to girlfriends on Twitter and cheat in a crowd, like a herd of brainless hyenas, who are literally no one alone in their stupid childrens complexes. They screwed up the Internet, they screwed up all the creative platforms, for them now being gay is some kind of stupid religion. At the same time, even in the picture from above, they show it as a cringe, but for some reason they promote it. Can you decide? Fucking. Just do not meddle with adults who are brought up according to COMPLETELY different criteria, who value and respect the canon, and do not invent nonsense, distorting characters to the opposite and reducing everything to digging in shorts and fucking ass. Show adequacy, and then I will do you all the best. If not, then at least disappear from my field of vision and stop collectively infringing on the opinion of one person, thereby showing literally the same thing that happened to the Doctor in Twilight. Cancellation by the Academy, because different views, but at the same time he is right and knows it. How much stronger can one person be than tens and hundreds if his informed opinion causes such resonance and resentment, making you complain to others about me? Start growing up now. Thank you for your attention. All adequate people have a good day.

I know how funny ot could sound by machine incorrect translation (coz now I have no time to edit this and explain everything to those who will just NOT listen, children are very aggressive to everything that contradicts what they want to see for any reason) and how sharp and strange it is not if it is read by child 10-18+

But if you know what it is to respect an intellectual work and other's characters and person, you'll never do such inappropriate things as writing gayshit about REAL PEOPLE who are straight persons, or making some dumb and OOC (out of character) even to make quite OPPOSITE character to heroes of the Universe that was invented, made/written not by you even a bit. In our world where we can face the canceling "culture" for every little action or even word, yes, this IS fuckin THIS SERIOUS you stupid children. I hope everyone who think it's ok, will feel and live all this on their own. Good luck to all who already do understand it and thanks for attention.

[aviivix]

IMPORTANT EDIT MAY 18 2024

A lot about this has changed since I originally wrote this up, especially around act 3 since while right now it’s still up in the air between a few different ideas, the act 3 in this post is cringe-tier and I’m embarrassed for having wrote it. Another significant enough change to mention here is that old Agent 3 and Agent 8 now join Off the Hook as antagonists, and recruiting “enemy” Octolings is now a core mechanic that the story anchors around more heavily. Also, Cy actually looks good now.

I’ll do a revised writeup of this at some point, but for now, take most of this with a grain of salt! A lot has changed. Now, flashback to about a year ago!

Soooo... I’ve been dead for a while and that’s because I’ve been fixated entirely on Splatoon 3 basically since it launched and all this time I’ve been working on an AU/HC/Fanfic/Something Like That called Culture Shock.

Given this has been something I’ve been working on for a LONG time, and given it’s entirely tied to Octarians, I figure I might as well make a big post about it before Side Order totally invalidates it! (Though I’ll keep working on this as an AU even if I don’t like how it interacts with Side Order.)

Details and more art under the break! (Though the quality will vary greatly as, again, I’ve been doing stuff with this since Splatoon 3 came out.) This is an extremely long story concept and if you read the whole thing I officially owe you my soul

There's a LOT to this (as there is with any hyperfixation concept like this) but I'll try to keep it somewhat light on details. Of course, it’s subject to change, and the exact plot progression is still kind of in the air. A big part is whether the climax of Act II should actually happen at the end of Act I... But here’s what I’ve developed so far.

The Story

Prologue

Culture Shock is designed as a DLC story mode set a year after the end of Splatoon 3's main story. The Squid Sisters have disappeared at some point in that time (a familiar situation), and ol' Cuttlefish has called in all of the agents-- plus Pearl and Marina-- to join forces against the Octarians that are undoubtedly behind it. Rather than going into stages alone, the levels are designed for you to do them with CPU teammates.

It's pretty quickly made certain that Octarians were involved, and thus the group is airlifted by Off the Hook into Octo Valley to find Callie and Marie. Upon landing, the player is ambushed by a group of Octolings -- that is, until one member in the backline pulls down her mask and excitedly calls out. It’s Callie? And though she doesn’t immediately unmask, Marie is definitely next to her.

After some confusion and accusations from both sides, the Squid Sisters assure the Squidbeak Splatoon that they’re not brainwashed, and offer to explain everything. Though Marie warns that it’s a long story, so the group settle down by ol’ Cuttlefish’s shack for a massive flashback played from the perspective of the Squid Sisters.

(Gameplay-wise, this whole setup is to allow the player to interrupt the Squid Sisters’ sequence at any time, and then pick up where they left off. It being a flashback also means it’s easy to replay missions or go for 100% by just asking Callie to repeat something.)

Funny title card, and the real story officially starts. I’m gonna skip through things a lot more, since at this pace it would take WAY too long to summarize every little scene and there are a lot of things not really settled on. I’ll be keeping detail for the introduction, as well as some key scenes, but for any less important/in-between type stuff, I’ll be summarizing what happens. Even doing this it will be extremely long, though Act I is far bigger than Acts II and III because it’s primarily setting up the world and motivations.

Act I

Introductory cutscene, in which the Squid Sisters find themselves stuck in purple ink, locked in an Octarian vault. The Octarians who squidnapped them keep their distance, though one particular Octoling does try to chat (to the annoyance of the others).

She claims that the Octarians will let them go in time, and that they won’t be hurt - though the Squid Sisters are suspicious at best. And, after noticing their discomfort in the Octarian ink, she offers them her Octoshot to paint the ground their own color. As the Octoling goes back to standing guard, Callie inks the floor and the two slump over, one of them idly singing the Calamari Inkantation under her breath.

Fade to when the Octoling swaps guard duty with another Octoling, who leans up against the wall and, after the first Octoling leaves, promptly falls asleep. Callie realizes she still has the Octoshot from before, and suggests slipping through the keyhole in squid form. With help from Marie, she’s able to get out on her own, and sets out to find the key to the vault. (This serves as a tutorial for stealth missions - though the guard will not wake up even if you fail.)

After freeing Marie, the two of them head towards the door, whispering about how crazy it was that the guard slept through all of that. The guard then dully tells them that he wasn’t asleep. The Squid Sisters prepare for a fight, but the guard barely has his eyes open and has not moved. After some back and forth with Callie, this Wendy’s employee of an Octoling just assures them that if he could beat them, it wouldn’t have even gotten to this point, and tells them to do whatever they want - just warning them that the other Octarians wouldn’t be so lenient.

An Octoling watches them come out, but just looks around frantically before running up to meet them. Marie declares that they’re breaking out, and prepares for a fight... but the Octoling starts freaking out instead, first worrying that they’ll get hurt trying to escape, and then worrying about what the rest of the Octarians are going to do with the Squid Sisters gone.

Before either Inkling can interject, a much more stern Octoling calls out while angrily marching up to the group. Through this conversation the Squid Sisters learn that the worried Octoling is named Aris, the tired Octoling is named Oregil, and this new more angry Octoling is named Cy. What originally seemed to be a jailbreak quickly turns into some (rather silly) negotiations with Cy, the Squid Sisters trying to convince her that Aris didn’t do anything wrong, and that Oregil totally did all he could to stop them.

Though Cy clearly doesn’t buy it, she lets it go, returning Aris’s Octoshot but also warning the Squid Sisters that their squadron’s mission is of utmost importance, and if the rest of them won’t do their jobs properly, she will. That said, the two of them just broke out of the only vault they had. So now, the Squid Sisters have to just stay in camp under Cy’s supervision.

With no more weapon to brandish and a clearly blown cover, the two of them kind of have no choice but to agree. Though Marie alludes to how dysfunctional this squad appears to be, and how easy it will probably be to escape.

Though before the conversation ends, Aris asks if “Tetra” will be okay with this. There’s a sort of tension in the air immediately upon mention of the name, immediately pierced by an intimidating voice asking what was going on. This was an Elite Octoling, apparently Tetra. After a recap from Cy, Tetra turns to the surrounded Squid Sisters, and tells them in no uncertain terms to always remember that they are prisoners - they are not one of them.

From here on out, the rest of Act I is a sort of slow burn. At the start, it’s purely the Squid Sisters looking for ways to escape. But as time goes on, they learn more about these Octarians by sort of living their life, and through learning about the octo squad themselves.

Aris is kind, possibly to a fault. While she’s committed to the squadron and their goals, she’s also the most both-sides-ist of the bunch. She wants to think that everyone is trying their best, and does everything she can to avoid conflict, but as a result she doesn’t speak up as much when the Squid Sisters make faulty assumptions about them, and she uninentionally hinders their growth at the start by letting them hide behind her leniency. Over the course of Act I, she eventually has to realize she can’t just hold everyone’s opinion equally - the Squid Sisters are making judgements off of bad information, and she realizes that her enabling that is making it harder for everyone.

Cy is the opposite. Cy is deeply passionate about their situation, and takes any opportunity to show the Squid Sisters what they get wrong. She especially butts heads with Marie, having little patience for the various non-solutions to their problems, or for the ignorance about Octarian culture. She’s extremely well connected among Octarians, even having worked with Octavio himself, although she doesn’t seem thrilled about it. Thus, despite coming across as very headstrong and aggressive, she also is the source of a lot of information about Octarian life.

Oregil is a self-proclaimed realist - in actuality, a doomer. He doesn’t say much, but what he does say is not particularly hopeful. When put in charge of something, he doesn’t tend to have a lot of energy behind it, as he’s become convinced that, in the end, Octarians cannot be saved. That said, it would be wrong to call him fully complacent. He still sticks with the team, even if he doesn’t have much energy to contribute, and would rather go down with his sinking ship than abandon his friends and family. Though he always seems to be napping on the job, he never actually does, though not for lack of trying. He has insomnia, and it’s rare to find him asleep at all even when laying in bed.

The Elite Octoling Tetra rarely shows herself. The only things the Squid Sisters have seen of her is that she’s intimidating, and not to be reckoned with. But the way the others talk about her and interact with her betray a different story. Oregil is flippant about her commands and doesn’t actually give anything his all. Cy goes along with Tetra’s commands, but seemingly only due to her own reasons aligning with Tetra’s rather than out of any respect for her authority. Aris obeys, but the way she acts and talks about it makes it almost feel like she’s obeying out of pity.

Lastly, there is also a fifth mysterious Octoling that the Squid Sisters will occasionally grab a passing glimpse of. They don’t know who this Octoling is, and whenever she’s mentioned, the others assure them that “she’s nobody”.

As the act goes on, Callie especially pries deeply into the hows and whys of a lot of Octo stuff. She had been in Octarian territory before in Splatoon 2, sure, but she was being brainwashed by DJ Octavio himself and held up as a superstar. This time, she was fully aware of herself, and living the life of the average Octoling soldier in the time between Octavio’s Zapfish heists.

The two of them wonder why the sun hasn’t come up, and learn that without the Great Zapfish, the kettle’s “sun” cannot shine. It’s a land of eternal night. The Octolings seem to live on a diet of mostly power eggs and salmon, which they learn is because without light, most crops don’t grow. Many little things like this illustrating just how resource-starved this nation is.

There are a lot of assumptions made and corrected. A lot of complaints put into perspective when the things they find uncomfortable or annoying are things these Octarians have had to deal with every day. But one of the biggest things is their ideas of resolution. An early question being, “Why don’t you just leave? Inkopolis is a stone’s throw away.”

There are a lot of answers that are given to this, but to some effect, they all boil down to “culture”. Inkopolis isn’t the same as Octaria. It has different people, different history, different fashion, different food, different expectations... it’s just a totally different place.

Oregil’s lived in Octarian society his whole life - it’s his home. Cy is an artist, she makes distinctly Octarian music and sees firsthand how it connects those in Octarian communities. Aris knows Octolings are “accepted”, but only insofaras they appeal to Inkling expectations. It’s hard to express their culture without being seen as weird or other. Even little things like how they look - Octolings in Inkopolis tending to make their hair slimmer, straighter, adding patterns and minimizing the amount of visible suckers. Plus, how many non-Octoling Octarians do you see in Inkopolis and beyond? Maybe an Octoling can fit in, but what about an Octotrooper?

The most impactful realization for the Squid Sisters as well, is just how few Octarians are even there anymore. Between the exodus in Octo Valley, the bigger exodus in Octo Canyon, the horrors of Octo Expansion, and just recently the similar horrors of Alterna... all stacked on top of the nation itself being less and less hospitable year by year? Since the events of Splatoon 1, so many Octarians have been lost. Within the squad they’re in, pictures and murmurings from the rest of them tell the stories of at least four other Octolings that were previously in their squadron.

So then the other aspect of the Squid Sisters’ arc is... if they don’t think Octarians should be stealing the Great Zapfish or dealing with Salmonids or anything like that... what should they be doing?

Because so far, nothing has worked for them. Negotiations fail, because Inklings don’t know enough about Octarian society to understand why they need so much support. They don’t know enough about the history of Inklings and Octolings to realize that Inkadia is largely the reason they’re suffering. The average Inkling doesn’t know enough to realize there’s a problem, and the average Octarian doesn’t have a loud enough voice.

All this compounded onto the fact that now, the only Octolings Inkadia sees are the ones who decided that Octarians were oppressing themselves, to the point where they abandoned everything they knew to live in the nation that started this in the first place.

Though, it’s hard to blame them when life in Octaria is practically nonexistent. Losing so many people, living in such horrible conditions, led by an egomaniac whose awareness of his people is performative at best... but most Octolings can’t let that take away from who they are as a people. They don’t let it tear their communities apart, or sever the bonds they have with people. Their lived experiences show them that it’s worth fighting for. Well... except in one scenario we’ll get into later.

The final important thing that comes to light over this period... This whole time Octavio has barely come up, because he doesn’t even know the Squid Sisters are there. The squadron are a real squadron in the Octarian army, but this whole mysterious operation involving the Squid Sisters is entirely outside Octavio’s control. In fact, it becomes apparent that the Octarians at least in this squadron or associated with this squadron, hate Octavio and everything he’s been doing to their society as a whole.

They’ve always seen the Zapfish heists as a horrible, horrible ego trip. An extremely hollow, expensive move that only plants targets on the backs of Octarians. But even in feeling that way, Aris and Oregil both admit that there isn’t much else offering them hope. If not for Octavio stealing the Zapfish for those couple days of “sun”light, what would they be doing? Though Cy has a much more strong opinion there, asserting that doing nothing would have put those resources into survival rather than gambling it all on a fool’s errand.

Needless to say, the Squid Sisters get a bit wrapped up in this stuff. Talking to these Octolings, learning about their life, living it, offering to help (gameplay sections), and all around having a lot of beliefs challenged. It’s a lot of stuff that they are only able to wrap their mind around from actually knowing what it’s like to live through it, without the option to just leave when it gets too rough.

While at the beginning they were just looking for an opening to escape, by the halfway point they aren’t even really being watched anymore, let alone trying to break out. Tetra may call them prisoners, but by that point they’ve had so many opportunities to just walk away. The only thing keeping them there is the fact that if they leave, what will happen? And can they confidently say that it’s the Octarians’ fault for it happening?

By the end, their primary objective is to find something they can do to actually give them a shot. And for that... they’ll need more than just the two of them. The idea of bringing in the Squidbeak Splatoon is immediately dismissed as insane by Cy - especially the idea of bringing in THE Agent 3. But after a little while, with Oregil indifferent as always and Aris on board, she comes around, though warning that Tetra will not like it, and they could be accidentally luring Agent 3 into a death trap. But it’s a risk they decide to let the Captain decide for themself.

Act II

Acts II and III are far less elaborate, because this is after all the characters have been established, and the world has been largely explored.

Act II kicks off with there being a lot of reactions. (As a note, the Octolings with the Squid Sisters at the present time are Oregil, Aris, and Cy. In their own ways, they’re uncomfortable in the presence of Captain 3. Cy and Oregil also seem to have an attitude with how they look at Marina.) A lot of disbelief, but also, to some degree, understanding. Naturally, Captain 3 is skeptical, taking a moment to contemplate what they’re being asked to do.

But around this time, Marina cuts in, asserting that regardless of the cause, Octarian society is inherently a problem. That’s why she left. She accuses the squadron of perpetuating DJ Octavio’s oppressive rule, and that they could have their cake and eat it too just by moving to Inkopolis.

The group go back and forth, with escalating emotions and accusations, until Pearl declares that, whatever they’re plotting, Off the Hook and the Squidbeak Splatoon will put a stop to it. Silence falls over the group, until Marie retaliates saying that she doesn’t think she can in good conscience fight against people who are only trying to exist.

The other agents start taking the Octarians’ side, even Agent 8 who, despite hesitating given their trust in Off the Hook, still resonates too strongly with the plight of the Octarians to turn their back on them fully. Pearl is taken aback, but after a glance at a very betrayed Marina, declares the Squidbeak Splatoon their enemy too, Marina locking eyes with Agent 8 before Off the Hook take their leave.

Cy remarks that it’s a shame, but she understands exactly why Marina is acting this way. Callie asks why, but Cy just assures her that Marina isn’t stupid, so if everything goes right, she’ll come around. Aris tells the player where the kettle’s entrance is, and at their leisure, they can join the Octarians there.

Upon entering the kettle as the player Cy assumes you know how things work, and there are a few filler travel stages to break the story up a little, before eventually the group return to see Tetra emerge for the first time, locking eyes with Captain 3, removing her goggles for the first time, and immediately going on the attack. Captain 3 drops their weapon and holds up their hands, but Tetra still rushes them down, holding both Dark Tetra Dualies up to their face.

After a long moment of them staring each other down, Tetra narrows her eyes, throws her arms down in a burst of anger, and leaves without saying anything else. After a few sighs of relief across the group, the tone lightens up, and Cy guesses that Tetra won’t be bothering them - which is a relief.

The bulk of Act II itself is actually fairly underdeveloped story-wise and is a lot more gameplay focused. It reinforces a lot of the character stuff from Act I, but a big ongoing theme is repeatedly clashing with Off the Hook in various places, and getting more glimpses of the strange fifth Octoling and getting more hints as to what it really is that the squadron is planning, and why they’ve kept it hidden.

While their convictions are still the same, there is a growing level of uncertainty among the group as they feel less okay with being kept in the dark. Eventually, the Squid Sisters, Cap 3, and Agent 8 catch a glimpse of the mystery Octoling leaving, and watch them enter a building off the edge of the camp alongside the other Octolings. The Squid Sisters take the opportunity to snoop around the building, which appears to be a laboratory of some sort.

As the group search deeper within for answers, strange, distorted music can be heard - with oddly familiar vocals. It turns into a full stealth mission, until eventually towards the end you’re spotted and confronted by all four of the squadron members. Tetra warns that they were not supposed to come here, Cy is quiet for once, Aris is quiet as usual, and Oregil... actually looks motivated to stop you.

Of course this is a video game and you win that horrible 4v4, breaking through into the room ahead to find that fifth Octoling in a room full of synthesizers, speakers and computers. She calls for Cy, before turning around and realizing who it actually is.

Marie asks the obvious question, of what the hell this is, and the fifth Octoling who introduces herself as Sock, answers that this is a studio, actually. Well, a lab and a studio. Maybe it should be called a studyo. Weirdly lighthearted for what the group was expecting.

Cy, having respawned and entered behind them, is audibly defeated as she guesses an explanation can’t be avoided.

The studio was used over this entire period to study the effects of a song whose influence is as potent as it is destructive... the Calamari Inkantation. It’s the song that spawned not one, but two mass exoduses. It has an undeniable impact on the cephaling psyche. And, as they know, it’s one of the most important songs to not only the Squid Sisters, but Inkadia as a whole.

The fact that the Inkantation can grab the mind so easily when it isn’t being actively fought, and cause such extremely psychological changes... it was, and still is, one of the biggest problems Octaria has had to deal with. And up until recently, there was little you could do about the Inkantation besides actively study its influence.

What they found, was that it was able to simply cloud out your own lived experience. It would walk you down mental shortcuts, take advantage of the simplicity of certain ideas, and corrupt experiences that contradicted it. Causing Octolings to simply leave their struggling communities, their memories twisted with the idea that they’ve somehow invented their own struggle, corrupted only to enable the Octoling to gravitate towards assimilation without dissonance.

The only Octolings welcome in Inkadia are those who have listened to and internalized the Inkantation... those who, consciously or not, allow it to twist their memories and reshape who they are as people.

It’s a lot. Some Octolings are more resistant than others, and some, like Sock here, have managed to reverse engineer it and escape that way. Sock, an Octoling raised in Inkopolis, raised with the Inkantation, and only later exposed to its flaws - without memories of Octaria to have been twisted by it, she was only able to create new ones, to learn from those who live Octaria every day, rather than being stuck behind a layer of cognitive dissonance.

Of course, other Octolings simply could not leave. The new experiences formed after the Inkantation constantly falsify the old, corrupted memories, and reinforce the reality. But many Octolings, upon being swayed by the Inkantation, simply left and assimilated into Inkling societies.

The idea that the Inkantation is not only not good, but actively a corrupting force, was not something Cy nor any of the squadron were confident the Squid Sisters or anyone else exposed to the Inkantation would be able to process. And without that, how else would they understand the importance of their mission - to reverse the effects of the Inkantation using the strange, distorted song the group have been hearing.

Taking a lot of voice samples from the Squid Sisters was the only way they would be able to relpicate the sound that originally entranced those under the Inkantation’s effects. That’s why they needed to go for broke and resort to squidnapping. The Inkantation being a strong corrupting force meant that it was unpredictable how they would react to learning the truth behind the song, while still at least partially under the effects of it.

And that’s also why Cy said of Marina that she understands why she’s so hostile - Marina is one of the most deeply Inkantationed Octolings.

A lot of the breakdowns of how the Inkantation affects Octolings also resonates extremely strongly with Agent 8 - who, despite how prominent and overpowering the Inkantation was, was still able to hold onto friendly feelings around Octarians, and frustrations around their place in Inkling society. So many weird, dissonant feelings, are starting to make sense. But also, a lot of really awful feelings are starting to surface as well - traumatic feelings, now that they’re starting to think back on their life, and counterbalancing that to the horrors they witnessed in the Deepsea Metro. Horrifying, but... real. So, so, horribly real.

This is their last shot. If they can reverse the Inkantation across Inkopolis... who knows what it would achieve. But the plan, at the very least, is unity and community. Cy admits that in all likelihood, most Octolings will stay in Inkopolis even after the Inkantation is cleared. That’s their home now - they have new friends, new commitments, a new life... and there’s not much of a home to return to in Octaria.

But, maybe, some Octolings come to visit. Maybe some Octolings come back. Maybe those that don’t, can at least use their new life in Inkopolis to raise the voices of those suffering back home, and create a real partnership - no egotistical DJ required. And not just turning Octolings into Inklings with funny hair.

Act III

Well, once this whole reveal happens, there is a lot of internal conflict, but on the face of it, there’s really nothing to argue. There’s the disgust and to a degree personal insult felt at the idea that this song that was so important to them, that became a cornerstone of Inkadia, was harmful. That they the Squid Sisters enacted that harm onto tens of thousands of Octolings.

But it’s all there. Their minds want to deny it, but there’s nothing to stand on.

At the very least, they have a rare opportunity to set things almost entirely right. And so, they take it.

The plan is simple: Do what the Inkantation did. Blast the song out to as many Octolings as possible, and then... maybe overthrow Octavio for fun just as a bonus lol

The Squid Sisters are already popstars - they can just take the song into the Inkopolis News Station, perform it live, and get it playing all over, such is how Inkopolis is with its new music. Or well, that’s how it COULD work...  if there wasn’t a sudden “NEVER GONNA HAPPEN” and muffled “Pearl--!!” coming from Agent 8′s earpiece, that they forgot to take out.

So... the easy walk-in walk-out strategy just turned into a big climactic final battle for the station. The specifics of which........ are still being ironed out, sORRY!

But generally, Pearl and Marina get backup in on the situation, and it’s a lot of small missions in one building, split across multiple teams, some stealth, some just battle, some objectives, and the final battle being a survival section over the Squid Sisters performing the song (playing as the squid sisters is cool but its not quite a Splatoon Final Boss if the Squid Sisters aren’t singing some variant of the Calamari Inkantation over it except that one time) including Pearl and Marina themselves getting in on the battle.

I’m not musical enough to think of how this would work, but it would be kinda crazy for it to sort of be objective-based by whether the Squid Sisters’ reverse-Inkantation or perhaps even Off the Hook singing the normal Inkantation is playing for more time - like a dueling song of some sort

After it’s over and you win, there’s this sort of both relief and confusion since it feels like not much happened - but it affects Marina. Like, god, does it affect Marina after everything that happened to her after the Inkantation. A lot of what she knew, the people she was close to, her life in general, all just flooding back. Suddenly realizing that these were not shadowy monsters that were out to get her, they weren’t evil clones trying to destroy the world. They were people she knew, old friends, family even, that were just trying to get by as best they could without leaving their friends and family in the dust. And then she let herself be swayed by a song, and then suddenly... how could she have just left them like that? What did she do to them? What did she do to herself?

But cutting through it all is Pearl’s voice, asking if she’s okay. Despite what she was worried about... it’s still Pearl. It didn’t make her hate Pearl or not recognize Pearl or change anything about how she felt about Pearl. It just, cleared the fog around the other people she cared about, that she had been convinced she didn’t.

So.... yeah!! Once all is said and done, Marina assures Pearl that she’s still her, that all these fears she had, didn’t happen. Plus, some minor panic over how close she got to keeping these thoughts down forever. But she didn’t, and now that it’s all over, she can let it out to Pearl and the rest of them.

Epologue

Other Octolings throughout Inkopolis start feeling similar things, though minus the Deepsea Metro trauma, and as anticipated, some of them do return. Some come back temporarily, some just have a lot to think about. Many who come back in some form or another will also sadly realize how close Octaria is to just crumbling to the ground. But over the following days, weeks, months, and years, both Octolings and Inklings work together to both raise awareness and to help reconstruction efforts.

It’s the start of a much, much, much larger social shift - that kind of also passively involves removing Octavio from power, but that’s easy enough at this point. And of course, Pearl and Marina come up with some shenanigans to get the squadron and the Squid Sisters... off the hook.

And that’s Culture Shock, the entire story exists for that one throwaway pun at the end thank you for listening you’ve been a great audience and even if this FINDS its target audience NOBODY will be able to read this before the direct that will inevitably have Side Order content which means NOBODY except ME will have the knowledge of this before their expectations are shfited by the existence of Side Order

Okay but seriously if you somehow finished all of this like, DM me on Discord @aviivix or something because we will become best friends

Also... if you can believe it... this is like maybe HALF of like all the story stuff I’ve got in Culture Shock - each member of the Octo Squad has an arc (especially Tetra she has the biggest arc but I barely mention Tetra here) and there’s big ass history with the dead Octos and a lot of specifics I didn’t touch... if you ask me about any of it I will be your best friend no questions asked.

TYSM!!!!!!!!!

[thinblccd]

what are your favorite clans (and/or bloodlines etc) in vtm? (ALSO HIIII)

hello hello hello!!

i think my all-time favorite pick is clan malkavian. it's a hard clan to get right and the early books could pretty cringe about it (i do feel like the connections to the faerie realm that were present in 1e should be brought back in some capacity), but as a mentally ill bitch i've always been drawn to them. i feel like the madness network is such an interesting concept and when used right derangements can be played absolutely beautifully in the story. i also looooove pranks.

i have a real soft spot for the nosferatu, they have really cool lore and the natural historical rivalry between them and the toreador can lead to some fun friction in the coterie since it feels like theres been a toreador at every table ive ever played. i feel like they've really been debuffed over the editions (especially through stuff like the loss of schrecknet) so i will only play them these days with a good storyteller at the table.

the tzimisce are so cool even though i never play them, lorekeeper characters are very precious to me and they have such a focus on tradition and history that there are a lot of scholar characters for me to develop an attachment to. sascha vykos has a presence in lore that has really stuck with me over the years, the methuselae are actually scary to me, and dracula being a) an actual character and b) that bitch who was willing to shatter the masquerade just for the hell of it and then disappear? chef's kiss.