#this show is rotting my brain something fierce

[plantsjustwannahavefun]

That's not how I see it at all...

I think you're coming at this with the wrong mindset to begin with if you see apology as "groveling", aka something inherently degrading and humiliating. No, I don't want Ed to be degraded and humiliated either. One thing this show is adamant about is that self-hatred doesn't lead to salvation or growth, it only makes you spiral further into destruction. I don't want Ed's act of apology to come from a place like this, and I don't think the show does, either.

But the fact is that Ed does need to answer for his actions in some way and take responsibility. The crew deserve his forgiveness. Even if Izzy wasn't a complete innocent in this, and you could say he deserved some punishment, the rest of the crew did not. Their relationship with Ed is now shattered into pieces, and it's up to Ed to take the first step towards repairing it. OFMD might not be about becoming a good person in general, as in, in some vague moral way, but it is about becoming a better person to those you love, because you owe it to them. The show does care about murder. Stede literally came and took a single look at the world of piracy and said, what if it didn't have to be this way? And that's literally the premise of the show. "Bad people" are capable of love, and deserve to be loved, but at the same time, those they love deserve to be treated well. And, in Ed's case, that does mean he's gonna need to apologise and ask for forgiveness. So is Izzy. And Stede. They've all done bad things they regret. If none of them apologised and everyone simply ignored and forgot about each other's wrongdoings, well there would be no point for this whole season to begin with. It could just end with the next episode after Ed and Stede reunite. But obviously this isn't going to be the case.

I like the idea about emotional pain being treated as worse than physical pain in the show, but again I don't think I agree, and in any case it doesn't apply here. Ed wasn't only physically hurting Ed and the rest of the crew (who, as I said, did nothing to deserve it). He was psychologically and emotionally tormenting them as well. He was forcing the crew to act as brutal killers - yes, that might be what being a pirate means, but we already know this crew isn't like that. People like Frenchie, Fang, even Jim hate murdering others, especially in such a pointless way, looting ships only to throw the treasure away. Everyone's constantly terrified of Ed and can't say what they mean without fear of getting tortured or killed. The fact that they're on Izzy's side now literally shows how bad things got. Jim was so heartbroken that they'd learned to cherish and treasure life only to now be forced to treat it like trash that they wanted to save Izzy's life, despite not liking him very much, just to remember how it felt to fight to protect someone instead of senseless fighting to kill. The whole crew was in so much emotional pain they trauma-bonded with each other.

As for Izzy, Ed had already punished him for his words in S1 by cutting his toe off and feeding it to him. This wasn't a regulare case of a captain punishing their subordinate for disobedience, something that would happen in public too, since that's the whole point, making an example. It was a calculated sadistic move. Stealing into his room at night, ambushing him in his sleep while he's at his most vulnerable and defenceless, making him eat the toe... That goes way beyond punishment, that's something that could cause a lifetime PTSD.

Sure, even then you could say Izzy deserved this, and wouldn't necessarily be wrong. But Ed didn't stop at that, did he? He kept taking more toes - and for much less justifiable reasons, too. Izzy apparently got punished every time the crew refused to follow Ed's insane orders. Ed psychologically humiliated him too, mocking him for being weak and threatening to replace him. And the leg? Izzy lost it for defending the crew. And for being the only one brave enough to tell Ed the truth to his face. You can't simultaneously say the show rewards characters for being true to themselves while agreeing Izzy deserved to get hurt and tortured for this one, too. Although you could say his reward is forming a stronger connection to the crew, which led to him having his life saved. Which, again, ties into the show's theme about learning to be a better person for the sake of others. Even afterwards Ed continued to torment Izzy, forcing him to shoot him. And then literally tried to kill everyone and himself. That's not something you can get away with after a half-arsed mumbled apology. Did Lucius look like he's going to let Ed off the hook that easily? No, because he's traumatised as fuck. As are the rest of them.

Ed definitely won't find it easy to apologise and start repairing this whole mess, but he'll have to. If Izzy could squash his ego enough to thank Stede for the rescue, then Ed can work through his issues enough to be able to apologise, too. Pretty sure that's gonna happen because, as I said, without it there's no room for the story to move forward.

Mostly buried this in the tags of my next OFMD meta reblog down from this post but…. I don’t think Ed is going to apologize for his Kraken era and I don’t think the narrative is going to demand that he does.

I saw a couple posts expressing eagerness for Ed’s inevitable “apology tour” after he wakes up and I just fundamentally don’t think that’s going to happen. I could easily be wrong. But at most I think we might get a few mumbled, shamefaced apologies. If you expect him to grovel before Lucius and the crew, imo, that’s just not going to happen and here’s why:

- the narrative morality of OFMD has NEVER been encouraging its characters to become “good” people. The story is about finding love and acceptance during a midlife crisis. It’s about following your bliss. The highest moral demand it makes of its characters is to be true to themselves, not to become Good People. It’s a pirate comedy. It doesn’t care about murder. It cares about being true to yourself and your desire to be a pirate. Everything goes well when people follow their bliss. It falls apart when narrative defining main characters like Stede or Ed do what they think they should do instead of what makes them happy.

- Emotional pain has always been more important, more impactful, than physical pain in the show. Ed’s bad behavior (to put it lightly) was an expression of his emotional pain. Simply put, the narrative isn’t going to ask him to apologize for his emotional pain.

- Stede, the main driver of the narrative, DOES apologize because his actions led to Ed’s emotional pain (in his mind) and again, narrative pain is weighted more than physical pain in this show. Also, life is cheap, if you’re not a main character. This is still a pirate story. Murder is not treated as a sin.

- Ed is proud. Taika is proud. Both rightfully so one would argue, they’ve accomplished a great deal. Ed’s got a bit of Taika in that, actually more than a bit. It’s clear Taika puts a lot of himself into Ed. My gut tells me that Ed/Taika is just not going to grovel an apology. That’s just not his style. Mumbled self-conscious apologies because he feels he should is one thing. But deep sincere apology tours? Not gonna happen. He won’t abase himself like that (Ed OR Taika)

- The person he arguably hurt most directly, Izzy, hurt Ed IMMENSELY at the end of S1. Arguably more than Lucius, the majority of whose pain came from what happened after he was pushed overboard. But Izzy Ed personally tortured, and he did it because Izzy threatened to murder Ed if Ed didn’t climb back into the suffocating closet of Izzy’s expectations for him. Ed is not going to apologize to Izzy. Izzy got exactly what he deserved in physical pain after the emotional pain he dealt Ed, narratively speaking.

- I’m not talking real world morals, to be clear. Or even what the various Izzy or Ed fans THINK the other deserves, where the fans think the fault truly lies and who owes what to whom.

- What I’m saying is, in the OFMD world where emotional pain matters more than physical maiming, the narrative isn’t going to ASK Ed to apologize to Izzy for maiming him after what Izzy did at the end of S1 and Izzy getting his comeuppance for it. And that’s because they hurt each other equally, emotionally. They’re even now. Izzy lashed out and emotionally destroyed Ed during a vulnerable moment. Ed took his leg. They’re done. The way forward is for them to separate and get their toxicity out of each others life or find a new way forward with new understanding of each other as they become entirely new people after their respective ordeals. But as far as the pain they’ve dealt each other, there’s no debt. They’ve both hurt each other beyond the point of apology being anything but a false display.

Again, I could be totally wrong. Joke’s on me if ep. 4 opens with Ed on his knees crying and apologizing to everyone he hurt. But I just cannot picture that happening. And I don’t think OFMD is the kind of story that will demand it.

[prythiansprincess]

heat wave.

pairing: azriel x reader x cassian.

request: Hi I don’t know if your requests are open but if so would u write something with reader x cassian x Azriel maybe smutty little bit ( I feel like cass would have a size kink and Az a corruption one anyway🤷🏻‍♀️😂)

author's note: size kink cassian 🤝 corruption kink azriel. i swear i haven't forgotten about the bat boys, i'm just deep in the slytherin boys brain rot rn.

Summer swept through the city of starlight with a sweltering heat wave. The blistering sun left you feeling hot, damp, and sticky as sweat dripped down your back. The only relief to be found was in the sugary sweet cone of strawberry ice cream that Azriel had brought back for you from his trip to the market square. The shadowsinger kissed your temple before sauntering into the training pit to come face-to-face with Cassian.

The Illyrian warlord raised an amused brow. "So that's why you were late." Cassian mused, sending you a conspiratorial wink from your place underneath the shade. "You spoil her, Az."

"You're just jealous he didn't buy you a cone too, Cassie."

Cassian grinned. "You're the only sweet treat worth indulging in, and I'll have my taste of you soon enough, pretty girl." The suggestive words made your body buzz with excitement. "Right after I kick Azriel's ass for making me wait."

The shadowsinger chuckled before disappearing in a dark blur. He reemerged seconds later with twin blades in his hands and a mischievous grin. "Show me what you've got, Cassie."

You leaned back in your lounge chair, enjoying the cool relief of the sweet treat. It would've been cooler inside the house, but nothing, not even the thick muggy air could stop you from watching the two males spar.

By nature, Azriel and Cassian were competitive males.

The Illyrian warriors were opposite sides of the same coin—Cassian with his boldness and passion and heat; Azriel with his mystery and brooding and seduction. You always thought of them as fire and ice. The best of both worlds.

While the competition between them was fierce — whether in fighting or drinking or fucking, you found that Azriel and Cassian worked best in tandem.

More specifically, when they worked you in tandem.

At first, you were skeptical about the dynamic, but the more the three of you explored, the more comfortable you became with one another. It didn’t hurt that you had Cassian and Azriel completely wrapped around your finger. They would do anything for their sweet, innocent little priestess. Though the thoughts running through your mind as you watched them train were far from virtuous. If anything, they were downright sinful.

Underneath the sweltering summer sun, Cassian and Azriel moved swiftly, shedding their leathers to reveal planes of smooth, hard muscles that flexed with each movement as they darted across the red sand. Mirroring the treat in your hand, you were reduced to a sticky pool of desire as you shamelessly ogled your two favorite males.

Azriel glanced at you, a knowing smile gracing his handsome face. “Better lick it up fast, angel. You wouldn’t want to make a mess.”

Strawberry ice cream dripped all over your fingers and while you did your best to lap up the melted liquid, the heat was working against you. Besides, you were too distracted by their glistening bodies, golden brown and sweat slicked and all too tempting. You licked your lips, indulging in the lingering sweetness of strawberries and cream and wishing it was the taste of a set of deliciously sinful abs instead.

“I think she’d rather lick something else up, Az.”

You flushed, suddenly feeling hot all over despite your refuge in the shade. Cassian was a shameless flirt, but it was all in good fun. Teasing was his favorite part of this little game of yours, but in the end he always gave in. At your core, the two of you were absolute hedonists. Both too impatient to deny each other gratification.

Azriel, on the other hand, wasn’t as self indulgent. The shadowsinger could hold out for hours. Make both you and Cassian really beg for it. This time, you decided to get ahead of the game.

You shot a sly glance at Cassian while the shadowsinger had his back turned, urging him to play along. The Illyrian warlord grinned like a devil and discretely nodded before pivoting so that Azriel was facing you.

With a saccharine smile, you licked long, deliberate stripes along the cone while holding the shadowsinger’s heated gaze. “I was wondering,” you pondered as you wrapped your lips around the scoop rather suggestively. “If it feels as good for males as it does for females.”

Azriel cocked his head, intrigued. shadows twisted through his dark wings. “If what feels as good, angel?”

“Pleasuring someone with your mouth.” The shadowsinger stilled. Behind him, Cassian’s mouth dropped open. “I’ve never done it before, but I’d like to try. Maybe you could teach me, Az.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched as he inhaled deeply. Hook, line, and sinker. “Then you and Cas could both confirm my theory.”

Moments later, you found yourself crammed into the shower between Cassian and Azriel. The Illyrian warlord spread out on the built in marble bench, water dripping down his shoulders as his unbound hair formed a dark curtain around his face. He looked like the god of war, all lean muscle and rugged beauty.

Warm, honey eyes tracked your movements as you discarded your dress and stepped underneath the steady stream of water. The shadowsinger's gaze hungrily raked over your naked body as he tucked his wings in close.

"Get on your knees for me, angel."

You followed azriel’s instructions and knelt in front of Cassian. When you looked up, you found nothing but dark pools of lust staring back at you. Cassian suppressed a shiver at the sight of you on your knees, watching and waiting. Hanging onto every word.

Azriel brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. “Open your mouth, baby. Go slow at first. Treat it like the ice cream. Lick from the shaft to the tip.”

You did as you were told and gave tentative little licks along the underside of his cock. Cassian was warm velvet in your mouth. “That’s it, angel. You’re doing so well.”

Cassian moaned in agreement while the shadowsinger gathered your hair into a ponytail. “Now, hold your breath and take him as far as you can.”

You obliged, slightly gagging as Cassian settled in the back of your throat. Azriel knelt behind you, pressing encouraging kisses behind your ear. Sharp teeth grazed the column of your throat and you moaned, which elicited a hum of pleasure from the male above you. Peering through your lashes, you waited for Azriel’s instructions. he smirked, knowing he was in full control.

“Bob your head up and down. Make it messy, my love.” Cassian groaned as you picked up the pace, his dark lashes kissing the tops of his cheekbones while the back of his head rested against the marble tile. He gripped the edges of the bench so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

Azriel chuckled darkly. He caressed your cheek, stroking over where Cassian was slotted in your mouth. “Our perfect little whore. So good at following instructions when you want to, yeah?”

You groaned as Azriel pushed your head down. Cassian hit the back of your throat, making you gag on his cock. His head fell back, mouth opening to release a filthy moan.

“That’s my good girl. Do you see what you’re doing to poor little Cassie? You’re unraveling him, angel. I bet he’s close to coming. Aren’t you, Cas?”

Cassian shuddered, his wings flexing behind him in confirmation. “Gods, don’t stop. Your mouth is perfect. Feels too fucking good.”

"Use both hands, love." Azriel instructed as he helped you get a firm grip on cassian. Water trickled through his perfectly sculpted abs, clenching as his release came closer and closer.

"Fuck, Y/N," Cassian growled. His hazel eyes burned as he watched you take all of him. Rough, calloused fingers caressed the hollow of your throat. He could feel you gag around him as he fucked your pretty mouth. You were so tiny and delicate, but absolutely fucking filthy too. Cassian was obsessed. "You're so pretty when you suck my cock."

You hummed in response, making the winged male buck against you. He gripped the back of your head and thrusted in and out as you moaned your approval. "Oh gods, Y/N. I'm so fucking close."

The shadowsinger grazed your earlobe with his teeth. "Swallow, baby. Every single drop. Do you understand?"

You nodded as Cassian shot hot ribbons into your mouth. The Illyrian warrior shuddered as you milked him dry, savoring the salt and musk of him hitting the back of your throat. He pulled you under the running water, droplets catching in your lashes as Cassian pressed you against the cold tile.

A mischevious grin curled against his lips as he caged you in. You startled at the way he completely enveloped you, the cover of his wings blocking out the light as his lips met yours. Cassian loved towering over you like this, his large hands roaming your body as he gripped your hips and lifted you up with ease.

You groaned as he wrapped your legs around his waist, his gruff movements making you feel as light as a rag doll as he kissed you fervently. He tasted like cinnamon and whiskey, an intoxicating combination that you chased with your tongue as you pulled at his hair. Cassian returned the favor by biting down on your bottom lip, chuckling darkly as your stiffened peaks pressed against the hard planes of his chest.

"Feisty little doll, aren't you?" He growled against your ear. Cassian hiked you up, letting you feel the effect of the kiss poking against your inner thigh. "I could take you right here and then without even breaking a sweat, sweetheart. You're such a tiny little thing, but you take cock so well, don't you?"

You responded with a whimper. Cassian bit into your neck, hard enough to leave a mark. "Cas, please."

The desperation in your voice was enough to make Cassian's cock twitch against your leg. You knew that with the right combination of pleading eyes and trembling lips, Cassian would be putty in your hands. You rolled your hips against him and he moaned against your neck. When his gaze met yours, his pupils were nothing but dark depths of desire.

"I need you, Cassian."

"Cauldron fucking boil me," he muttered. "Have me then, pretty girl."

You smirked, satisfied with your little victory until Azriel hovered behind Cassian's wings.

"Now who's spoiling her, Cas?" He nudged his brother aside and pulled you back down. Cassian smiled sheepishly, knowing full well that he would've fully given into you if the shadowsinger hadn't stepped in.

Azriel's smile was a cruel slant. "You're a devious little minx," he said. "You may be the perfect picture of innocence, but you're nothing but a filthy little slut, aren't you? It's too bad that I know all your tricks, angel. Seeing as how I’m the one who taught them to you."

You grinned. "It just means you're a great teacher, Az." The shadowsinger raised a brow as you snaked your arms around his neck. "You should be proud."

Azriel chuckled darkly before peeling you off of him. A dark curl clung to his cheek, covering the mischievous glint in his golden eyes. "I'll be proud after I make you squirt in my mouth two or three times." He nodded back to the marble bench. "Now be a good girl and lie down. You’re about to reap the consequences of your actions. I don't take kindly to being teased, my love."

The shadowsinger briefly glanced at Cassian. "You too, Cas. Hold her hips down. I don't want her squirming away before she's learned her lesson."

Cassian winked before settling onto the marble bench. Azriel instructed you to lie back against his brother's chest before kneeling between your legs. You swallowed thickly as the shadowsinger spread your thighs apart.

Azriel smirked as he secured your ankles around his neck. "You're dripping, angel." His seductive laugh skittered up your spine. "You like being a tease, don't you? Do you enjoy bringing Cassian and I to our knees?"

"Only because I love the view," you said with a smile. "But not as much as I love the both of you."

Cassian chuckled and wrapped you up in his arms. "We love you too, sweetheart, but Az is going to make you pay like he promised. Can't save you from him now, baby doll."

The shadowsinger kissed the inside of your knee and smiled. His warm breath fanned against your overheated core as he licked a teasing strip along your folds. You instantly arched into him, your body begging for more. Azriel signaled to Cassian, who shook his head and held your hips down.

"Don't let her up, Cassian." Azriel said. "Not until she begs."

Cassian only nodded and kept you firmly pressed against him as Azriel went to work. His tongue explored every inch of you, licking and sucking as though you were the strawberry cone from earlier. You nearly cried when he teased two fingers in, his mouth working in tandem to push you over the edge. The sensations were overwhelming and the combination of his mouth and fingers was enough to make you want to weep.

As always, Azriel set a punishing pace. It was like he was gauging how far he could push you until you completely lost your grip on reality. Your first orgasm felt like an explosion. Stars flooded your vision as though you were witnessing the demise of a dying star. A supernova.

The second time Azriel made you cum, you thought you were going to pass out from the intensity of the pleasure. When the third rolled around, you couldn't even remember your name.

"Az please," you cried. "I can't take any more."

Azriel glanced up at you, a damp curl clinging to his cheek as his mouth glistened with your arousal. He looked like a lion after devouring a fresh kill. Dark, lethal, and utterly dangerous. And you fucking loved him for it.

"You've got one more in you, darling. Doesn't she, Cas?"

Cassian smirked, his rough hands biting into your hips. "Maybe she needs a little motivation."

"Oh?" The smirk on Azriel's lips spelled nothing but trouble. He licked his lips, gathering the juices with his tongue. "Come and taste her on me, then. That should inspire her to ride another one out."

You swallowed thickly as Cassian kissed Azriel hungrily. The shadowsinger's scarred fingers snaked through Cassian's hair possessively, claiming him with his tongue and his touch. You groaned, whining until Azriel shot you a glare. He wasn't going to let you join in on the fun.

Cassian pulled away, looking dazed and disoriented. "You taste like heaven, doll." He kissed your cheek and chuckled as you tried to turn and catch his lips instead. "Be good and give Azriel one more, sweetheart. Then you can get all the kisses you want."

You pouted, but did as you were told. Azriel disappeared between your thighs again. Despite how overstimulated you felt, release found you in record time. Before you knew it, you were writhing against Azriel's mouth and coming for the fourth time.

It felt like both heaven and hell. Heaven because the pleasure was unlike any other. Hell because receiving that many orgasms back to back had you utterly spent even though you would've begged for more if you had the energy to speak.

"What did you learn today, angel?"

"Don't interrupt training." Azriel nodded in satisfaction. "And—"

The shadowsinger raised a brow. "There's an and?"

"And you eat pussy like a god," you stated matter-of-factly.

That earned you an amused smile. "Hear that, Cas? I think I might get a plaque made to put in my office."

Cassian only rolled his eyes. "She's only saying that because I haven't worked my magic yet." He brushed through your hair and kissed your temple. "I'll prove myself soon enough, but for now, you should get some rest pretty girl."

You nodded in agreement. "Cuddles?"

"Cuddles," Cassian confirmed.

After you cleaned up and dried off, you settled into bed. Sometimes the three of you slept in Cassian's room. Other times at Azriel's. But since your bed was the biggest, the three of you tended to prefer sleeping in your room most nights.

Your eyes felt heavy as Azriel snuggled behind you, smiling gently as Cassian tucked you underneath the blankets. You threw your leg over his, giggling as he complained about your cold feet.

"Shut up, you love it."

With the moonlight glistening against Cassian and Azriel's shirtless torsos as they snuggled up on either side, you couldn't help but feel like the luckiest female in the realm. The shadowsinger leaned over to kiss both of you good night.

“The next time you two conspire against me like that, I won’t be as nice. Do you understand?”

You and Cassian nodded, but the moment that Azriel looked away, you smirked at each other.

There would definitely be a next time.

You two never learned.

[panda-writes-kpop]

Second Chances ~ Pirate!Karina

a/n: another pirate fic, but it was inspired by a conversation about losers that @kingmaker-a and I had. enjoy the fruits of my continued pirate brain rot and my experience of being a loser for nineteen years and counting! :]

tw: guns, blood, and violence (oh my!), alcohol (reader has a preference for brandy but just imagine something different if you don't like it), reader is a professional little shit (and this is a bit of a self-insert plz leave me alone)

♡ Masterlist ♡

summary: you're given a second chance at pirating because Karina fucked her first impression with you. To prove your worth (and to give her a second chance), she takes you out to a local shooting range where sparks fly (literally and figuratively).

As a former pirate warlord in a small town, your life couldn't get more boring.

You had spent your younger years chasing fame, glory and riches - and look where that got you. You were stuck on a shitty island with no crew and no way out except swimming (which would most likely result in certain death).

Once, a lifetime ago, it seems, you had your face plastered on every wanted poster board on every island you visited. Your head was worth a pretty penny, which made you keep your crew on a short leash. If one of them babbled, you'd find out pretty quickly.

Rats are a nuisance found at the worst time, so you'd only found out about your disloyal crew when you were disputing fraudulent charges with a nearby pirate crew.

With the world hunting your head, a pissed-off group of enemy pirates, and a pit of vipers you had once called your crew, you were on the next sailboat out from the coastline. You didn't have much more than the shirt on your back, so you fled to the first island that the ship ported on - the same shitty island you were stuck at, three years laters.

Three years might as well be eternity in the world of pirates - you barely recognized any of the pirates that were on the wanted boards. It's not like you wanted the bounty - doing odd jobs around the island kept a roof over your head, food in your stomach, and enough alcohol to clear your thoughts for a few hours.

Yet here you were, on a quiet island, in the first bar from the docks. With a bottle of brandy (the bartender started giving you the bottle after growing tired of refilling your glass again and again), you eye the newest group of pirates to make themselves at home on the most unbecoming island on this planet.

You didn't think anything of it - pirates frequent bars like birds frequent feeders - but a glimpse of shiny red-hair nearly causes you to choke on your brandy.

The infamous Red-Hair Pirates, led by none other than Captain Winter. A fierce fighter known for her loyal, deadly crew, and you wanted nothing more than to stay out of her way.

She could kill you without a second look, not to mention that her crew would rip you to shreds afterwards like rabid hyenas. 

You wouldn't find any peace tonight, not when an unloaded rifle crashes against your shoulder. It takes every muscle in your body to resist the urge to fight as a girl with short black hair scrambles to grab it.

"Sorry, fuck, I'm sorry." She slurs before crashing against the table. 

Brandy spills all over your clothes as your temper crashes against its lid - you're almost at your breaking point. 

"It's fine." You teeth grind against each other as you spit out your answer. 

"Your brandy-"

"-just take your damn gun and go!" You shove the gun into her arms, which sends her tumbling to the ground.

Eyes follow the two of you as the girl attempts to get up, at least three times, before another girl from her crew grabs her arm.

"C'mon, Rina, let's go." The second girl, with light blonde hair, shoves Rina towards the exit as you try to sink back into your seat as far as possible.

Everyone's eyes are still lingering on you as you pull out a small knife - not to kill or show dominance, but to perform a favorite party trick of yours.

You spot the target board on the other side of the bar. When a bartender moves out of the way, you quickly aim and fire the knife while looking the opposite direction. 

The gasps and cheers tell you that you've hit your mark while you attempt to clean up the spilt brandy with a few napkins. You'd probably smell like liquor for days, if not weeks, but you'd learn to live with it, just like everything else.

After you dry most of the liquor off the table and your clothes, another bottle of brandy lands on your table with a sharp thud.

"I don't take pity booze." You sharply answer.

"It's not free, but I'm asking for five minutes of your time." Captain Winter places her hand on her hip as you hesitantly grab the bottle.

"Take as long as you need, Captain." You take a swig of the brandy, and you're pleasantly surprised by the flavor. "Top-shelf booze?"

"We got lucky on our last ship takeover." Winter slides into the other side of the booth. "Are you looking for any riches?"

"You're trying to buy my loyalty with alcohol." You scan Winter for any malicious intent, but she only has a simple smile on her face.

"Is it working?"

"Depends on what you're offering and why you're so interested in me."

"You threw a knife from across the room without looking and managed to hit a target dead-on." Winter leans in before folding her hands. "Are you that accurate with a gun?"

"I am, but you wouldn't know that unless you knew who I was." You lean back against the booth before taking another drink of brandy. "You're well read, Winter."

"The lucky guess excuse doesn't fool you, then. It's an honor to be in your presence, Captain." 

"Are you looking for a marksman?" You deadpan as she nods.

"I can't guarantee great pay or a path back to notoriety, but-"

"-I'm in."

~

Due to the damages to Winter's ship, you're stuck on land for a couple more days. After your little stunt at your most frequented bar, you decided to go to a much quieter place, farther from the docks for tonight's drinking session.

Unfortunately, trouble finds you before you can find it. The drunken girl from before, Rina, is stunningly sober as she walks through the bar doors.

Once she spots you, her eyes become shifty as her posture tenses up. A smile plays on your face - a nervous marksman, a paradox for the ages - so you ask for another glass of brandy before you wave her over.

"You're here later than I expected." She softly says before swirling the brandy in the glass in front of her.

"And you're here sober. Guess we're both full of surprises." You quip as her eyes widen.

"I don't usually have that much to drink. We had a good plunder earlier in the day." She's quiet for a moment before her eyes meet yours. "Sorry about last night. I don't hold my whiskey as well as I thought I did."

"You'll get used to it eventually, or you start drinking lighter, Rina." You sip your brandy as she chuckles into her glass.

"Karina." A subtle correction, but one you notice. "Giselle's the only one who calls me that."

"Well, Karina, it looks like you and I will be spending more time together. Your captain has recruited me as a marksman under your watch."

"If you're under my watch, then we should see what you can do," Karina pushes the glass towards the bartender after taking a final swig from the glass, "unless you're not feeling well enough?"

Her lips twist into a teasing smile as you finish off of your own glass of brandy. For someone who can't hold their liquor, she's got a mouth that will get her in trouble with the wrong people.

Luckily for her, you're not that type of person. Not anymore, at least.

"There's a shooting range a few miles from the beaten path. Unless you've got somewhere else to be, I'd be glad to show you what I've got." You slide off the stool with ease as Karina scrambles to catch up with you.

"Isn't it locked up by now? It's a few hours past sunset." She says as you scoff.

"When have pirates ever cared about rules?" 

~

"Have you ever picked a lock before?" 

You turn to Karina, who ponders your question for a moment in the glowing moonlight. Without any obstruction, it shines just enough light to illuminate her face, especially her eyes and lips.

....It's not like you were looking, though.

"I usually leave that to Giselle, she's the crafty one." Karina shrugs before pulling her jacket closer to her chest. "How much farther is this shooting range, exactly?"

In all fairness, it is a bit chilly at night, especially when you're taking a dirt path that sits close to the ocean. You've taken this path before, when you need to blow off steam or just need a break from the hustle and bustle of town life.

"Just a few more minutes up the road. You cold?" You start pulling at your overcoat, trying to undo it as quickly as possible, before Karina places a hand on your arm.

"It's alright - a little cold never killed anyone." She jokes before taking a soft breath.

You watch, albeit it a little intensely, how the air from her lips creates a soft, foggy mist that floats into the night sky. You wonder if she's putting on a brave face because she's intimidated by you or if she wants to intimidate you. Seeing as her first introduction to you was as destructive as a bull in a china shop, you could easily rule out the latter. 

Karina wasn't the type to lead with authority - she left that to her Captain. From what you've seen and heard of her, she develops personal connections with her subsection of the crew, which explains the immediate offer of shooting practice. This wasn’t a test of skill, but rather, a form of camaraderie. 

That was something you could respect, as a former Captain of your own crew. 

A distant pang in your chest pulls your attention from Karina - did you really miss your crew that much? They were liars and scumbags, but they were family, after all.

"We're here," You curtly say as you place the lock on the gate in your hand, "hand me your hairpin."

"How did you know I had hairpins in my hair?" She asks, confused, before slowly grabbing a hairpin from her hair.

"Your hair has stayed perfectly in place since we left the bar and it's been breezy all night." You answer before holding out your other hand. "I'll give it back, I promise."

"Sounds reasonable enough." She shrugs before handing you her hairpin.

Normally, it would've taken you a few seconds to pick the lock, but Karina's presence throws you off your game. It doesn't help that she's eagerly leaning over your shoulder, which causes heat to rise to your cheeks, but the lock gives a satisfying click before you can dissolve into a nervous mess.

Her soft breath on your shoulder causes you to gently shudder. You look back at her as you pull the lock from the gate and put it in your pocket.

"You're incredibly resourceful for a simple marksman." Karina says as you open the gate for the two of you. "Are you sure you're not hiding anything from me?"

Karina offers you a brilliant smile, one that outshines the sun and the moon.

"Why don't we find out?" You give her a wink before gesturing for her to enter the gate. "My commanding lady goes first."

Her eyes widen as she slips through the gate before you, and you shut the gate as she intently watches you.

"My hairpin-" She lightly brushes a lock of stray hair behind her ear as you hold the hairpin in between your index and middle fingers.

"I've got it."

Karina holds out her hand expectantly and opens her mouth to say something, but the words die on her tongue as you quietly close the distance between the two of you. You, ever so carefully, put the hairpin back into place in Karina's hair, in the exact location that it came from.

When you pull away from her, a rosy blush covers her face as she nervously plays with the sling carry on that keeps her rifle on her back. You bite your lip as she shakes her head at you.

"You're full of surprises."

"I know." You shrug as you continue to walk towards the shooting range. "Shall we?"

The rest of the walk to the shooting range is silent, but you manage to slip the lock into your pocket during the walk.

Karina was right - you were full of surprises. You were surprised that the sound of the key banging against the lock in your pocket didn't give you away. 

You'd done some personal business for the owners, and they didn't have much capital, so you simply asked for a key to their shooting range. They were more than happy to give you a spare from the keysmith, and you used it whenever you came here alone.

This time, you had something to prove, and someone to impress. Since Karina could hardly look you in the eyes every time you glanced over at her, your mission was complete.

~

"You've shot a rifle before." Karina folds her arms and steps away from you as you aim the barrel of the gun at the target.

"It used to be one of my favorite weapons, back when I was pirating with my crew." You casually mention before firing the weapon. 

The bullet hits the center of the target, just as it always does, and Karina stares in amazement.

"Nice shot, Deadeye," Karina softly says before adding, "were you this good of a shot when you were a captain?"

"Did Winter tell you?" You ask.

Karina looks away for a moment before responding.

"I was the one who recognized you, at first. I was too drunk to remember how I got over to you, but I remember saying something to Ningning, who must've told Winter," Karina explains before meeting your eyes, "I still can't believe I made a fool of myself in front of such a notorious pirate."

Her cheeks burn bright with embarrassment, but you're quick to comfort her with a small smile and a soft hand on her shoulder.

"If it makes you feel any better, the first time I got wasted without my crew, I threw up on a Marine Officer. Don't remember how that night went, but I woke up the next day on my ship, and I was covered in someone else's blood."

Karina throws her head back and laughs, and you think that her laughter is the best sound that you've ever heard. It's much better than the jokes told at the bar, or the sleazy tactics of the salesmen that you walk past every day on your way to your job of the day. 

You wish you could bottle her laughter and get drunk on the sound every night of the week. It's loud, beautiful, and it fades too quickly for your liking.

"I guess we're both natural disasters, huh?" Her warm smile causes your heart to stir as you set the rifle aside for a moment, just so you can stand closer to her.

You move away to set the rifle down in a safe location before turning around to face her.

"Enough about me. I've heard plenty about you from your crew." You say, feigning innocence, as Karina folds her arms and scoffs.

"If it's about me not being able to hold my liquor, I'm going to hunt Giselle down and-"

You take a step closer to Karina - only three steps between the two of you - before you interrupt her.

"I've heard from your Captain and her first mate that you're quite a flirt. Sometimes too much of a flirt, but it's okay to overindulge every once in a while."

Karina bats her eyelashes at you as she takes a step closer - now it's two steps between you and her.

"Would you like me to flirt with you, Captain?" You don't miss the way her eyes scan you over, shamelessly checking you out when no one's here to witness it.

"How about I go first?" You flirt right back before taking another step - now there's one step between you and her.

Karina takes another step forward - her lips are so close to mine, please kiss me - as she rests her arms at her side.

"Do your worst." She taunts before you pull her in for a long, sensual kiss.

Her hands grab for your arms as you rest your arms at her waist. You're usually not this coy with your romantic pursuits, but Karina's different from your usual type - much prettier and much kinder, if you were to be honest.

Pure adrenaline rushes through you as neither of you want to let go. To let go is to ruin the moment, to have a conversation that neither of you are ready for, but you have to do it anyway because air is a necessity to life, apparently.

"I-" Karina starts as her lips leave yours. "What about-"

She pauses before diving in for another kiss. This time, she weaves her hands through your hair as you continue to hold your waist. She's much more reluctant to let go this time, so her hands go back to rest on your arms as your hands rest on her hips.

"So... does target practice always go like this for you?" You jest as she lightly pushes you away.

"Way to ruin the moment." She jokes as you lean in to taunt her.

"So, this isn't how you treat all of your new recruits?" You grab her rifle and toss it to her.

"Just the ones I really like." She smiles at you, and you take her words at face-value.

She could be playing you for a fool, but that didn't seem like the person she was. You say the woman under the mask, the flirty disaster of a woman who took you out to target practice just so she could steal a few kisses from you.

"Do you want a few more drinks, or would you like to go back to the inn?" You ask before Karina offers you a hand.

"I think another round of drinks is in order - a round for my favorite new crew member." She emphasizes the word favorite, which makes your heart flutter more than you want to admit.

"As long as you don't throw a loaded gun at me this time, I'm in," You say before she elbows you, "okay, I'll let it go... for now."

"I'll make it up to you, I promise," She waits for you to take her hand before walking back to town with you, "you just have to give me a second chance.”

[esmes]

don't mind me - just some rainy day musings bc sweeney todd 2023 has rotted my brain

someone's tags on a gifset got me thinking about 2023 revival lovett and todd and the special something their dynamic has. there's something about this particular iteration of these characters and their relationship, especially as we see it evolve throughout the show (even as we've seen it evolve throughout the show's run), that just makes mrs lovett's betrayal and her death at his hands hit hard. i know, i know - she deserves it. she lies! she's a lying liar. her deceit is no small thing. any one of us would be incensed to have been misled the way she misleads sweeney. even if a small part of her may have done it, as she says, to spare him having to see what became of his lucy, the larger part was certainly to serve her own interests.

but there's something about how close mrs lovett gets to bringing sweeney around to her this time that just gets me carried away. they're not just business partners - they're lovers, they're co-conspirators, and they're sort of each other's only friend in the world. at this point, he indulges her flights of fancy. they know each other intimately. they joke with each other! he's likely had to listen to countless hours of her prattling on about her thoughts, hopes, and wishes. this is a man who, at this point in the show, is slitting people's throats without remorse. and yet he spends the evening on the sofa cleaning his pipe while he patiently listens to his girlfriend rave about a seaside wedding. when she takes his hand, he doesn't wrench himself from her grasp like he used to. he doesn't get up and walk out, which he could do. he accepts her - her presence, her company, her warmth. he may struggle to admit it to himself, but he does. he can concede that he loves her - just a little bit, though he can't quite bring himself to say the words. sweeney is fiercely loyal to lucy's memory, so much so that he clearly couldn't ever wholly give his heart to someone else, but, in that moment after "by the sea", you can see that he's softened toward lovett. they were both alone a long time before this, after all.

it's not the stuff of great love songs, but it's something. it's almost enough.

this is what ultimately makes the final living moments between them all the more heartbreaking. mrs lovett has always been a sympathetic character to me - a villain, sure, but not without her reasons. she's a woman alone in a brutal world. whether the character is an older or a younger iteration, she's been alone for a desperately long time. when sweeney returns to her after all this time, she sees her moment and she takes it. she's not letting her second chance at life get away from her without a few claw marks.

when sweeney kills her, he sheds no tears over it - but the grudging fondness we'd seen him beginning to feel toward her only serves to emphasize how monstrous of a deception it is. his "you LIED to me" comes out in an anguished roar. when he throws her in that oven, all the light goes out from the world. it takes my breath away every time. though it should, it doesn’t quite feel like justice.

i know not everyone loves annaleigh's interpretation, but i have maintained from the first time i saw this revival that the warmth she brings, the honeyed, deluded, comical sweetness that lures sweeney into believing life with her could be tolerable, if not ideal, was a brilliant choice.

that's why the leap into hell together works for me. some productions have had sweeneys that barely tolerate their lovetts, so a cold diverging of paths makes sense. these two definitely fall into a different category. it makes sense to me for this sweeney and lovett's ultimate fate to be each other. who else would it be? lucy did nothing wrong - she's not going where he's going. having made lovett pay for her lies, they can head on down (hand in unlovable hand!!!!!!!) to live out the almost-enough life they created with each other. and sure, her chirping his ear off for eternity would certainly make an appropriate punishment for his crimes.

[turnerside]

Hopeless Romantic vs Hook Up Culture

⋘ And she tortures me, tortures me with her love. The past was nothing! In the past it was only that infernal body of hers that tortured me, but now I've taken all her soul into my soul and through her I've become a man. Will they marry us? If they don't I will die of jealousy. I imagine something every day... ⋙ F. Dostoïevski

𓆣 I had already wrote this once but it got deleted so my deranged brain have to find the words again 𓆣

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ In this post I wanted to express my current thoughts and despairs on relationships. I turned 20 recently and have never been in love, in a couple or intimate with someone. I am not ashamed of it but the more time passes, the more I am terribly afraid of never experiencing what true love feels like. Feeling so fucking lonely, waiting for someone/something that never comes. I’ve known deep loneliness all my life and now it’s starting to rot my insides : the hopeless feeling of an internal gap that no one could fill; the visceral intuition of a missing half constantly haunting me. Feeling so heartbreakingly lonely that I could do anything to be loved. I am fucking bored of this emptiness. Being a hopeless romantic, I am in love with the idea of love, never with a real person. I get attached to the romanticised idea of them, a shadow that never even existed, living in an illusion made up in my brain. Looking for an ideal of pure devotion. And that makes me deceitful, not seeing people for what they are.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Growing up, I romanticised a vision of relationships, imagining my soon-to-be womanhood, having fiercely conquered femininity, and hopefully, a utopian love. But I quickly discovered the absence of essence in real relationships (plot twist : superficial, empty, a transactionactional ‘bond’ where no one really cares). Being asked out by someone who barely cares, being a toy to men, a pretty porcelain doll to show off, a stack of unused flesh; in short : something disposable. When I tell my friends about my virginity they often state things such as “you should lose your virginity to a mate you trust and feel confident with, at least you'll get rid of it”. Doesn’t it seem so resigned ??? Of course, as someone who is so scared of abandonment; intimacy completely terrifies me: I fear finally opening myself, giving myself emotionally to end up allowing people to hurt me more. So scared to drop my walls to end up facing a person that never really loved me but loved the fact that I loved them… a superficial intimacy.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Even if I despise these types of relationships I always find myself jealous of my friends, even though I know these are still superficial. How did they find someone? Will I be able to find someone? What does love even feel like? Am I even capable of love?

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ I’m then stuck living through other’s eyes, in my own disillusion, Idealizing some mediocre situations, reading endless love stories and fantasizing in my mind. “A fictional boyfriend can’t disappoint you,” right? I am rarely present on this planet, always in my head. And that’s how I seem to metamorphosize into one of those Sofia Coppola characters: A quiet melancholic being that’s haunted by the idea of an impossible love with someone she hasn't even met yet. Waiting to be ACTUALLY seen between the million complex layers that make me who I am. 

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Having several friends in my group who are romantically active, I realize during conversations that relationships and sex are often considered as social trophies to make yourself stand out in a group. Everyone is sharing about their failed date, or how their last relationships were, et cetera… those became storytimes that gave you importance in a social context. Of course I do it too, telling crazy fucked up anecdotes about me, to give myself composure in a social context. I am just sad to see how many boys (lol, “how many” gurl) I dated were doing it for ego and performance : grow their stupid list of girls they seduced. I am maybe pessimistic but most look for the hedonism of a relationship without the struggles that brings engagement. Because honestly, what’s scary in a relationship is that it forces you to face your flaws, unhealed traumas and anxiety. A relationship is constantly asking you for concessions and working on yourself to make it work. It’s kinda terrifying tho. Commitment is a lot, so I believe people that constantly avoid being attached (and only seek for pleasure) are just scared to dive into introspection and face themselves.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ The idea that sex is a social transaction is actually so depressing. I want sex to be an act of bonding with someone: melting and merging each other's soul through the body. Being so connected to someone flesh that I could almost enter his mind and hear his thoughts. Just feeling the other breath, the imperfect skin on my fingers, the pulse of his veins making him a living creature. A metaphysical experience, bigger than time and space…

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ There is also something I want to evoke which is the loss of meaning. I recently saw this post about how autistic people are more likely to get abused because they struggle seeing through people’s words. I am not diagnosed as Autistic myself (cause it costs good money lol ) but my therapist mentioned how “I had a lot of symptoms that could refer to the spectrum). However, I identified a lot with this post. I always fool myself into viscerally believing what people say while those words are just …only words. People say what you wanna hear, and they’ll say anything to have you in their bed. And every time, there is something so infantilizing about succumbing to those words, being seen like a naive, brainless, idiot, little girl, who has (once again) been fooled by this devouring loneliness.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ I may have seem judgmental during this whole stack of thoughts: I obviously sometimes just want to fuck, but this fear of being an object again constantly holds me back … too risky to open my shell and give myself soul and body to just receive meaningless lust and disinterest. I am not going to lie, I am an horny teen lmao, but I just want to know what “making love” feels like. … and I am incapable of “not getting attached” anyway (I am probably Tom in 500 days of summer…sorry)... I desire to carve someone else’s soul. To OWN and being OWNED. Not be a one anymore, but a pair: two that are one. I want someone to worship the ground I walk on and know this beautiful symbiosis that brings people to a lifetime together. I am begging for a strong intimate spiritual kind of love. Even if it has to be a destructive and tormented passion, I still want to feel the deepness of it. I want his pain to be mine and my pain to be his. Make me the receptacle of your soul. I want someone that would be deeply grateful for me offering him my body, someone that would understand the meaning of this gift. I may sacralize my virginity too much, but I feel like it would be the biggest gift and love proof I could offer to someone. The person who’ll have it will forever be linked to me and possess a part of me, even if we take different paths.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ My love language is maybe OBSESSION… okay, yeah,it is…I want someone to be utterly obsessed with me just as I am for him. With obsession that drives us both insane for each other, forgetting everything else around and consuming ourselves, body and soul. I want him to blow up my phone with messages. I want him to write letters and poems for me. I want him to protect me, stalk me… Please give me everything you are, even the part you hate. Let our blood be poisoned by the need of each other. Maybe I am wrong for seeking this type of love. Maybe I should not seek extremes and absolution, but I still want to believe in it a little more, even if I feel like each year takes me away more and more from the possibility of knowing love. I want at least to experience this wild feeling for once. I couldn’t accept the curse of loneliness indefinitely. Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. There is though something strangely nice and comforting about this sadness, making me an idealistic and longing young girl. I will do anything for love. ANYTHING. It’s the only thing I know I really want. I need to feel it and this need is tormenting me, like my own existential quest.

𝜗𝜚 Let’s just wait for him, he’ll come soon… or maybe he’s already here …? I don’t know who he is but I want him by my side.

✿⃨ ♫ ໂ✿﮾ ‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̥°̩̥‧̥·̊❀꫶᳜᳝ᰭ✿⃨ ⠀ ♫ ໂ✿﮾᳜⡴⠀✟ ❤︎ ‎ ୁׄ ⠀ 🧷̳̥͗̆ ⠀🎀ຼ ⚹ຯ ♥︎ ১🗡°̩̥‧̥

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Rereading this, I find it stupidly arrogant but I needed to scream my frustration in the void that is tumblr. I’ll write future posts about my own relationships to femininity because, of course, this subject is heavily linked to this quest of ideal. Also, I’ll explore the notion of time as a woman cause I don’t seem to realize my life won’t be romantically over at 30 lmao. 

Well girlies, if you have any thoughts related to this post or if you have any stories to share, don’t be afraid to flood my Washing Machine Heart (inbox) જ⁀➴. - pixel art is from @bitmapdreams -

Love <3 

Xoxo, 𝓐 -

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚

⋘ 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳— 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘺, 𝘴𝘰 𝘶𝘨𝘭𝘺, 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨. ⋙ 𝒮𝓎𝓁𝓋𝒾𝒶 𝒫𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒽.

.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。

[thegoblintoadie]

Devotion and Desire

Summary: Briar, a cleric of Malar Tav, doesn't do hand outs. So when she wakes up with Astation looming over her, poised to bite, she feels for his plight but can't just hand over her blood that easily. She really does want to help her new friend though, and this fun little game of cat and mouse proves to be just the way to do that. or- Tav's god forbids giving hand outs so she proposes that Astarion hunt her so she can feed him guilt free. Primal play ensues.

Astarion X Tav ( OFC)

My first foray into writing for BG3 and my first attempt at writing in years but this vampire has rotted my brain to the core.

Read the full here on A03 and see a03 for full tags.

The pounding of her heart may well be the thing that gives her away. A rhythmic beat, so thunderous that she could feel it in her throat. The excitement coursing through her was to be expected- the thrill of the hunt was a sensation that she was all too familiar with, and she would never tire of it. Even though life had seen fit to throw her into an abundance of hunts since the nautiloid, and, in spite of the near constant mortal peril that faced them all daily, it was very rare that she got to indulge quite like this. In fact, she wasn’t sure that she had ever fully indulged this particular desire, there had never been a chance to show such weakness without it coming around to have severe consequences but here she was, finally, well and truly surrendering to being prey.

Well, surrender might be a bit too strong of a term- this little game was her idea after all and the cards where all in her hand when it really mattered. She was the one that set this ball in motion by volunteering to be the hunted, to become the fawn that ducks and dashes from Astarion’s fierce pursuit, but she certainly did not intend to lie down and make it easy for the vampire. After all, the only meal worth indulging in is one that has been well and truly earned and that’s precisely why they were here.

Surprises were abundant in these strange times but rousing from her trance to a body over her, sharp fangs poised and ready to strike at her throat had certainly been a big one. Even in the privacy of her own mind, Briar knew how crazy it sounded that even then she had felt the beginnings of that intoxicating sensation she had so longed for, the forbidden indulgence of feeling like a rabbit before a starved fox.

She should have seen him for what he really was, in hindsight it was all so obvious, his deep red eyes, his flawless alabaster skin, the canines that were more than a little too sharp and prominent. He hadn’t exactly been doing an amazing job of hiding his condition and it was likely only the distraction of the unprecedented circumstances they all found themselves in that no one had noted it so far. He bore a deep-seated scar in the shape of two fang marks nestled along the column of his own slender neck that should have been a dead giveaway and on any normal day she would have discovered his true nature in a heartbeat.

Even caught off guard as she was, it wasn’t hard to read the look in his eyes, clearly, he had expected her to run him through. Perhaps stake him on sight. But the fierce gnawing hunger of a starved monster was a sensation that she was intimately acquainted with and as she gazed into his eyes and found them full of desperation and soul deep aching, she was startled to see something that was too close to a reflection for comfort.

Living so closely in tune with the wilds, Briar knew that life was full of countless calls from all directions. Desire and need were restless companions and if one were to succeed in life, you had to learn when to act and when to stay your hand. Mastering your desires was as important as embracing them- but when your nature calls to you, ravenously empty and screaming, you have no choice but to obey.

Gazing upon his chastened face, it had felt like the cruellest punishment to reprimand him. To watch the most genuine emotions she had ever seen grace his handsome face entirely spring from the fount of sorrow. Still, her lord forbade pity upon the weak. Survival of the fittest was her creed and snatching up a forbidden drink in the dead of night, whilst your prey lay sleeping, was hardly proof of your hunting prowess. If Astarion could only win his meal by subterfuge, Malar’s teachings would have her state that he did not deserve to eat at all.

She felt these urges every now and then, the desire to give in and take pity on those who were so clearly in need. A whole life spent trying to please Malar, to prove herself as devout as any other in her village, and a whole life spent pretending that a hollow, cavernous pit didn’t open up inside her gut and threaten to swallow her as she ignored the pleading glances of the hungry and needy.

The discomfort bought on by these urges to be weak were familiar by now, she had suppressed them before, and she would continue to do so. It did not matter how much her heart ached to see the raw and honest starvation within her companions’ eyes. To see the hunger that she knew all too well and refuse to help when it would be all too easy. She knew the laws she must abide by, and Malar must not be displeased, her powers depended upon it.

Malar must not be displeased and perhaps he need not be- she had always been an innovator. Those forbidden desires sprung to the forefront of her mind again as she remembered the ravenous way Astarion had been looking at her in the split second before he had realised that she had awakened, and she felt a spark of warmth in her centre. Perhaps there was a way that they could leave this situation under more desirable circumstances.

When she had suggested that Astarion hunt her if he truly expected to taste her blood, the vampire had been dumbfounded and furious. Clearly, he had taken her offer in jest, perhaps thinking that she was mocking his monstrous nature, but she had doubled down on stating her intent. Affirming that any hunter worth their salt should catch their meal, not shamefully steal it away whilst their prey lay sleeping.

She could tell by the look on his face that he still didn’t quite believe her, but his doubt was faltering, and he had regained enough composure to slip back into his familiar rakish mask.

Then he had become confident, cocky. Briar had put a lot of work into concealing the nature of her worship and the nature of her own inner beast, from the rest of her motley crew and although at times, as friendships blossomed and grew amongst them all, this had been a contributor to her sizable mountain of guilt, in this case it had given her an advantage.

Astarion believed that he had seen her full skillset in battle, she was a cleric after all, a little more savage than most of the other clerics he knew when it came to finishing off enemies, but that was no matter of concern. She would still be no match for a vampire with over 200 years of experience, right?

Briar smiled to herself in the darkness, she hoped this confidence would be his downfall. She still had plenty of tricks up her sleeve and her winning hand had been held closely to her chest. The distant snapping of a twig jolted her from her reminiscence. She was confident that the sound had not come from Astarion, the rogue would never be clumsy enough to make such a simple hunting mistake, but it reminded her to refocus on the task at hand. Eluding her hunter.

[obiwhat]

hi eli :D! i originally followed you for the aot content but i am also open to learning more about fmab! a summary of the show isnt needed, but could you briefly explain the relationship of the two characters you drew? +any other info to know while reading your fics or art :)

hi hi hiiii!! so happy ur open to learning about fmab after being here from the aot side of things, much much love 🫶🫶

if you’d like to: i would 100% suggest watching fmab or reading the manga (and then watching fma 03 if you feel so inclined bc tbh i got really confused by starting that first lol)

as for royai: this is the ship i’ve been obsessing over lately, it’s between roy mustang and riza hawkeye. roy is a colonel and state alchemist (flame alchemy specifically) in the amestris military, riza being his first lieutenant and right hand. if you like eruri they are a veryyyy similar dynamic — despite how clearly they love eachother, it’s incredibly complicated bc of their positions.

im so sorry I WENT OFF in my analysis below, im clearly very deep in brain rot rn — see below for a long ass answer to this ask lolll

staying relatively vague in these character analyses to avoid spoilers just in case!

riza hawkeye is a skilled sharpshooter, despite not having alchemical skills she goes toe to toe with some intense enemies and holds her own. she often comes off as stoic but is fiercely kind and loyal and just aghhh GOOD. and despite her colonel’s seemingly aloof/cocky attitude, she is one of the few people who knows who he truly is behind his mask. she knows he’ll do anything to one day turn the country around and attempt to correct past failures that they share a similar guilt in. so she supports him, often falling into a supervisory position despite being his subordinate. although, she does not do so blindly. she serves as his right hand with the agreement that at any point she could put a bullet in him, if he were to lose his way and become something sinister. (very much levi vibes right there lol). riza challenges roy to be a better person around every turn.

roy mustang on the other hand is outgoing, a “lady’s man” and exceedingly cocky due to his gifts in alchemy and his steadfast rise to power - although, he uses this persona to mask his true intention; to rise up the ranks and become ruler of amestris. he wants nothing more than to right the wrongs being committed by his country and help to fix the damage already done. in reality he really is a bit cocky, has no sense of self preservation and is sometimes childish. but he cares deeply for every person in his charge, even putting their lives above his own (to his lieutenant’s chagrin). roy’s character is often driven by a sense of overwhelming guilt or even a poisonous desire for revenge, riza is often the only one able to pull him back, to steady him. he’s a broken and messy character but he tries his best to right his many wrongs.

riza and roy partially got to watch eachother grow up, one of the things i like about them (being a first love type trope). roy stayed with riza’s family as a young man, learning alchemy from riza’s father and eventually was entrusted with the secret to her father’s flame alchemy by riza herself - to use it for good. although, circumstances from their shared lifetime somewhat tainted that naive and pure love they once had, creating this need for them both to redeem themselves - if possible. (angsty i know) even so, there is a sense that no matter what horrors they face together, they will always cherish eachother above all others.

anyway~~ in short, riza is girlboss love of my life and roy is pathetic sad boy loser core. and i love them so so dearly.

[knowlessman]

k so iirc jeff the killer wrote the little red book of commulism and that's where we're at in the story. I think. bnha s5e15-e19. also hawks has maybe murdered a guy cuz he's a quintuple agent or whateverthefuck. (I know stain is dead… uh, I think… but like still, we haven't heard about him in ages, huh. never did really grasp what his whole deal was, anyway.)

hawks can use his feathers as listening devices? sheesh, some of these guys get so many weird subpowers.

…yeah, endeavor would be able to keep up with deku's complicated power-analysis stuff with the percentages and whatnot in conversation. he's a minmaxer, just ask his kids. guy plays RL like it's Dorf Fortress.

Selkie… maybe B-tier? A-tier? I don't really remember who all was where when I did that list thing, but anyway he's pretty cool. -- "they boarded us? where? how?" "because I'm a seal!" 'XD

ah, uraraka got a grapple shot thing. characters keep, like, noticing when they missed something in this and getting themselves some gadget or technique to cover it so they don't miss the same trick twice. it's neat. it's a whole fricking roster of learning robots.

"they were heading to Otheon" othewhat. …okay, phew, I was kinda hoping it wasn't real 'XD

…a family dinner at the todoroki's. -- calling it, everything's gonna go more or less, idk, stable until bakugo opens his mouth. or that other brother that's there, forget his name, I guess he could start something.

endeavor having his "how do I fix this?" soliloquy again, as if he has any valid moves beyond just disengaging from his family and trying not to fuck things up like that again in the future. kinda wonder if he ever figures that out, or if the writer decides that somehow he does get redemption. any price endeavor could pay would feel far too low. -- like, I don't get "this character makes no sense" vibes from endeavor like I do with bakugo; endeavor and his family feel intelligently-written to me. …remembering that bakugo is in this show, though, makes me worry that endeavor's and/or shoto's storyline could end up going somewhere that, like, won't sit right.

"I'm sure one day… our whole family… together…" the sister is out of her damn mind, but it's not like [people in abusive families being optimistic like that] is unrealistic either -- Natsu. Fuyumi, I think, is the sister? they'll show her name again, I'm sure

deku is dang near whispering to todoroki here about "are you getting ready to forgive him?" and everybody in the entire house can hear him. fucking rice paper walls (probably not actually but they apparently are very thin walls), gawd that's terrifying

okay so they do think toya's dead (toya? touya?), wasn't positive.

who is this The Vulture-lookin-ass mfer in the intro with the green tie and the wineglass, do we know him already?

I keep forgetting this intro is called Merry-Go-Round. only anime intros.

"endeavor! my first impression [of you] was fierce red flames!" no shit sherlock, is that your quirk, that you can see?

'XDDD who the hell is this guy driving endeavor's car, where have you been hiding him? guy's hilarious. kurumada, huh?

Killua! that's who kid touya looks like! thought the picture reminded me of someone

(re the todoroki family moving out) "but what will you do, dad?" "I'll remain here" my Disney-rotted brain: "all alone, in that big house. with only his MONEY to comfort him. only his millions and millions of dollars"

prolly should cut it there but ehhhhhhh, one more

ohhh, slendervest. kurogiri. forgot they captured him. -- (whole… backstory w eraserhead and present mic and what all) …well, wow.

also dr robotnik ig

[arachnicas]

any miles centric aus?

I have one! Lately, I've been on a time loop brain rot, and I love aus, in which Miles gets caught up in a time loop and has to find a way to break it.

Here's what I've got so far:

I'm thinking about a time loop AU for Miles that starts with Gwen opening a portal in his ceiling and ends with The Spot opening a giant black hole to consume Brooklyn and beyond, and then the inevitable loop. This is Miles Morales' twentieth time, and he feels as if he's aged forty years and, in a fit of frustration, decides to no longer play by the rules of the loop. He doesn't care about being Spider-Man, The Spot, Spider Society, and Miguel's canon theory. All Miles wants is to spend time with his family and enjoy what remains of his tattered childhood. So, when Gwen visits him, he gently rebuffs her attempts to get him to swing around Brooklyn with her:

"Miles, I came all this way to see you! Did your parents ground you?"

"That's not it, Gwen."

"Then explain it to me. We haven't seen each other in a while--"

"Gwen, I'm happy to see you. Really, I am, but I want to spend the day with my family right now."

"But Spider-Man would--"

"I'm not Spider-Man anymore. I quit. I burned my suit this morning."

He'd burned his suit the morning he was supposed to stop Spot from robbing that store. Like a good, responsible student, he showed up to his meeting on time, sitting between his parents and ignoring the horrid guilt of pouring gasoline all over his suit and setting it ablaze.

No more Spider-Man. Just ordinary Miles Morales.

The confession of what he'd done has Gwen staring at Miles in open-mouthed horror, tears sparkling in her eyes as she reaches out to touch him, only to be once again rebuffed when he takes a step back away from her outstretched hand, his expression apathetic and so very alien to Gwen.

"Miles, what have you done?"

"What I had to do. I grew up, Gwen. I'm not that little kid anymore who could barely fit his oversized Spider-Man costume and didn't know how to unstick himself from the ceiling. I have responsibilities now. A future."

"But being Spider-Man is a responsibility!"

"Gwen, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I have a celebration to get back to, and I don't want to keep my family waiting. It was nice talking to you again, but I have to move on."

"Miles, please--"

"Go home, Gwen."

Gwen leaves heartbroken and confused as she stares out at the scenic view of Brooklyn for the final time before disappearing into the portal.

Because Miles didn't antagonize Spot, Johnathon never traveled from dimension to dimension to grow his power, he never entered Pav's dimension, and Captain Singh does not perish. Gwen returns to Spider Society without incident, but when she tells Peter what Miles did, the man is shaken and sick, unwilling to believe his mentee would ever do something like that. Even Miguel and his belief that Miles is an anomaly who was never supposed to be Spider-Man is troubled by what Gwen tells him. Miles quitting has set off a chain of events that Miguel never expected, and Pav's "canon event" has all but vanished, leaving Miguel confused and frustrated.

Peter, upset and concerned, offers to go to Earth 1610 to talk to Miles and figure out what's going on, but Miguel refuses. Surprisingly, Peter objects fiercely to his refusal sparking a massive argument between them and causing Peter to storm off through a portal to visit Miles.

What happens next is unknown because I have yet to get that far, but Miles quitting broke the time loop and set off a massive butterfly effect that will either make or break the multiverse. Miles quitting wouldn't be too far off the mark because every Spider-Man has quit at some point in their life, but they always donned the mantle again after a brief period. However, Miles burning his suit feels more permanent, and now Earth 1610 doesn't have a Spider-Man, Miles' closest friends are emerging from their dimensions to visit Miles and find out what the hell is going on and something more dangerous than the Spot is on the horizon, threatening to destroy the multiverse entirely.

[fairestdecay]

i got maybe a third of the way through efa's bio today, but i've had this information rattling in my brain for days and i need to put it somewhere so here we fucking go.

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐓

exploring concepts of body horror, death, sacrifice, and gore. reader discretion is advised.

efa does not have skin in the traditional sense. it looks very similar to the real thing but when touched it feels slightly unnatural. a little too smooth, a little too cool to the touch and almost as if it has too much give. like if you press too hard it might be punctured. the structure behind it is... lacking. this skin is an illusion, and has been since not long after her death as the real thing began to peel and rot and bloat. that which did not fall away naturally was removed with a careful hand before being replaced with this very tangible if (somewhat) fragile coating, and while that illusion has become more lifelike over time she still exists in a sort of uncanny valley that makes most uncomfortable spending extended time with her. she reminds people of death, even when they are not fully aware of it, because it scratches a primal instinct in the brain that says something is wrong.

underneath her "skin", efa is rotting in perpetuity. this rate of decay is slowed by magic, but when that fragile skin is peeled off it shows that the meat of her body is still there and desiccated. she doesn't remove those parts of herself. not the congealed blood, or the muscles beginning to fall apart, only when these things become a problem does she bother to extricate them.

the only way to see what she really looks like, if she does not make the choice to remove the illusion, is through the use of mirrors, many of which are covered within the castle walls, the clearest reflection of her current state being through the magic mirror, which resides in her bedchambers. glimpses of her can still be caught through reflective surfaces although they are often somewhat distorted. she does not cover the mirrors for herself. she is aware that she is rotting and does not care so much to hide it, as she recognizes there are fears that inspire loyalty, but a corpse upon the throne both inspires a fear that is more likely to result in the abandonment of post and kingdom and invite potential usurpers of the throne.

that isn't to say she is easy to kill, and some have tried, but taking a blade through a shriveled heart isn't nearly as effective as it would be to someone with a use with the thing. there are effects on her when damage is done, but it is often not as visible to the naked eye as when viewed through the lens of mirrors.

she cannot prevent the rot entirely, only slow it, and were she so inclined she might be able to create illusions of functioning organs though she rarely sees the need. most often, the preservation of her current state of being, is done through sacrifice. the use of existing organs to replace the old as a last resort when something is too far gone, but more often simply siphoning off the remaining life essence of the sacrifice in question.

while many of these sacrifices are less than willing in their participation, there is a small faction of witches that will submit themselves to it when reaching the end of their life. this is often done as a show of devotion to the queen as since her rise to power she has pointedly made the kingdom a safe haven for those practicing the are of witchcraft so long as it is not turned against her, which has in itself garnered a fierce loyalty amongst some subjects.

[craftypeaceturtle]

by watching the worst one????

Maybe it's because I my brain has rotted away from ninja turtle madness but... but... that's not going to answer anything.

Willow is actually really hard to answer for in terms of which character she will like because I could easily see her liking them all for wildly different reasons.

Mikey: him being the silly comic relief turtle in most episodes of whatever series you're watching with a lot of his emotional depth coming from being misunderstood or under estimated by his brothers. Not something she will relate to emotionally but I can see her liking him for how goofy he is. She encouraged Hunter's cosplay, she's best friends with Gus, she likes flyer derby (an unpopular sport, if I remember right???). She has a super goofy side and I think Mikey would remind her of Gus.

She'd like Mikey the best if she was going about this lightheartedly.

Donnie: this is kind of the basic answer. Everyone loves Donnie because he's smart and a great fighter. In more recent iterations of turtles, he's been given this sharp sarcastic side.

If she was a casual enjoyer of tmnt, I feel like that would be her answer.

It's with Leo and Raph that shit gets interesting!!

People who favour Leo and Raph always seem to be projecting a little (this very much includes myself).

Leo: a leader who feels like he has to carry the weight of the world to guide everyone to safety and often bottles everything up. Sounds familiar. Although Willow absolutely saw herself as someone who needed to keep silent to make sure everyone else was happy, I don't think she ever saw herself as a leader. Just the glue keeping friendships together. Leo also has a goofy side to him (looking at you 2012 and 1987 series) that I can see her enjoying but, ultimately, she would kind of relate to him on a surface level.

Raph: someone who is fiercely loyal to his friends and acts impulsively and often relies on aggression and his strength to help people in need. Okay, yep, we've seen this with Willow too. But what's extra interesting is that Willow never shies away from her more aggressive side. She adores how rough flyer derby is, she takes pride in her magic, she even said she wants to become powerful and strong as a witch to protect her friend to her palisman!!! That's Raph to a T! But what makes it interesting is that Raph's aggressive side is always painted as a bad thing in tmnt. Something that will get him hurt or too impulsive. I can imagine her yelling at the screen that Raph has every right to get mad and want to fight. She'd be on his side!!

But then again, tmnt goes out of its way to show the downsides of relying on anger and I wonder if that would open insecurities. Her watching the 2003 series and seeing Raph genuinely hurting his brothers when he gets too wound up during training and thinks back to the moment her magic spiralled out of control when they got back to Hexside after getting to the Boiling Isles.

I really don't know if this made any sense. I'm rambling about my fav shows at the moment. I'm tired and this probably isn't coherent. I hope you enjoy the film! Or at least have fun laughing at it.

I promise there's better tmnt. Ones where Mikey is less gross and the others have personalities!

[caffeinated-mistake]

there's something inherent in the act of caring for someone;

and in my endless old guard brain rot this takes the form of:

- nile helping booker with therapy/ alcoholism. essentially being the go-between for him and the others during his "banishment" (I don't think it would last the full 100, and I've seen some gorgeous fics on the subject).

-it is customary to cleanse with water or sand before praying salat (I'm basing this off of research and a fic that had extremely good research with footnotes and all); and in Christianity- assume the priest Nicolo canon- washing of feet and in general is a very devotional act. it's something the disciples do, Mary Magdalene washes JC's feet with her tears and dries them with her hair, so it's all in all a very Big Thing.

in my mind, Nicolo would wash Yusef's feet as like.... his little way of saying "you are everything to me, you are holy and divine and a gift and I would do anything for you if you only asked it of me".

because, in my mind at least, joe is the wordsmith. Joe gives the speeches and writes poetry, and Nicky uses acts of service to show his devotion. Nicky cooks food, and finds baklava with varied recipes, and cuts the guards hair (it started as him fixing Andy's horrible chop in the 1670s, and ended as a way for him to show his family he loved them. he spends weeks holed up with the shitty tablet nile insisted on, learning how to do braids and care for her hair, the same way he'd watched Yusef's mother care for his sister's until he knew how to comb out the snarls and sand his beloved got caught up in). I just think Nicky seems the type to show affection in being there for someone, and that with as much religious guilt as this fandom loves to give the man, it would be sweet to see it as a tie in to his love and devotion to Joe. because Nicky absolutely believes it was God or fate that brought them together, and that loving Joe is the ultimate good he will ever do.

.... idk I thought it was cute but I'm drunk

- Andy pushes people. she's brash and ruthless, and loves so fiercely. there's a reason Joe jokes (never to her face) that Andy is the momma bear of the group.

she has Nile train until her muscles are screaming and numbing and screaming again, several times over.

she takes guard duty at night, a vigil she has in the kitchen, around the entire safehouse, and ends outside each bedroom or in the common sleeping area, listening for quiet breaths.

she trusts her team to take care of themselves, of each other.

but they are all so young to her, ageless and once a god.

Andy pushes them because they rise to it, Nile better with the sword every day, her languages coming along well with nightly dinners where conversation only takes place in that week's dialect.

- Booker I feel like will have quite the complex after he's un-banished.

he goes out of his way to make sure their safe houses are Safe. he takes over learning everything he can from medical courses, emt training, textbooks; to learn how to take care of Andy in her new mortal state.

he spends three weeks researching proper nutrition and gets his hand chopped off the one time he tries to insist on a healthy alternative to sweets.

Booker spends months teaching Nile new languages, how to blend into a crowd, how to work in the underbelly of cities and make friends in unlikely places.

deep down, he knows he's trying to train her to take his place. And as much as she lacks the eye for detail and intuition of what changes to make to forged papers, she's learning. (Joe's the one to corner him about it, grappling and fighting and screaming until Booker quiets, in a close headlock, his back to Yusef's chest, and stills. Joe shushes him, and then says, animosity gone for the first time in a while, "you're my brother. I love you, and I'm so sorry we failed you. but we are a family, Book, we are a family.")

it's slow moving, but eventually booker admits his forgeries are better than Nile's. that maybe he should stick around a bit longer, until she has some practise.

[lexosaurus]

Invisobang: Morge pt 2

It was a beautiful day outside. The birds were singing, the flowers were blooming...a corpse was found in the woods.

Or, Amity Park's local cadaver dog trainer was walking her dog in the woods when they discovered a little surprise waiting for them six feet under.

Pairings: none WC: 9886 read on: [ao3] part 2 of 2, read: [part 1]

---

some amazing accompanying art by @ghostkiin

---

“It’s like you’re not even trying!” Plasmius barked, throwing Danny an exaggerated yawn while blocking the ectoblasts thrown his way. “Really, Daniel, you were always woefully incapable compared to me, but this is just abysmal, even for you.”

Danny gritted his teeth and glared back, allowing his glowing eyes to glare to toxic levels. Plasmius picked the wrong week to try to steal blueprints from Fentonworks.

“What, are you going to hit me with a little ectoblast again?”

“Oh I’ll show you an ectoblast,” Danny growled, charging ectoplasm in his palms so concentrated that the green glowed a fierce white. He flung his hands out, releasing the energy with a venomous, “eat shit, Fruitloop!”

But just like the rest of his life, his attack was uncontrolled, wild. It flew several feet to Vlad’s side, nailing a road sign and burning it like acid until there was nothing left.

Plasmius grinned at its charred remains. “Was that supposed to hit me? My, Daniel, I’m quaking in my boots!”

Danny felt his aura increase.

This week had already been shitty enough, even without Vlad’s help. He felt like his brain was trapped in a hailstorm, with constant unavoidable attacks pelting him from all sides. His core was a ball of energy and anxiety, not allowing him to sleep or eat or even breathe without the constant fear about his body and how it was being messed with and he needed to protect it and how he’d failed so miserably at protecting it and now his secret was going to be revealed and he was screwed.

“Well? I’m waiting! Tick tock, Little Badger!”

Ancients, Vlad was such an asshole.

“Shut UP!” Danny yelled, releasing his ghostly wail.

Just as a pink blast slapped him across the face, sending him flying into a brick building.

Plasmius tisked, flying nonchalantly towards him. “We can’t have you using that particular power, now can we? Not while you’re so obviously in control of yourself.”

“Fuck off.”

The older ghost smirked and brushed dust off his red and white cape. “Teenagers. Always so hormonal. What, did a girl at school reject you?”

“What are you talking about?” Danny launched himself back in the air and powered an ice blast. “You know what? Don’t answer that. I don’t care what you have to say.”

“No, I’m sure you don’t,” Vlad said, releasing a plasmius blast just before Danny released his own. The pink blast travelled across the air like a bullet, punching Danny in the gut and sending him crashing back into the building.

Meanwhile, Danny’s ice blast flew a foot above Vlad’s head, webbing itself into a tree and coating the branches with thick icicles.

Danny tried to push himself back onto his shaky feet, only to be pushed back down yet again by another plasmius blast.

Brick tumbled onto his head, coating his vision with dust. His body ached, and his neck was sore from the whiplash.

From his clouded vision, a glowing white figure with red eyes and gaudy horn-like spikes for hair hovered closer to him.

“My, my. You really are out of sorts today,” Plasmius said. “This is almost too easy. I could just take you out right here and go take your parents’ entire spectre speeder straight from your lab.

“What do you even need a spectre speeder for? You can fly,” Danny asked, rubbing a lump from his skull.

“A simple minded teenager such as yourself couldn’t possibly understand my reasons.”

Anger flared through Danny. He gripped some wreckage next to him and forced himself back onto his feet. His legs shook and he felt something wet drip down his calf.

Great, he was bleeding. Just add that to the list of reasons as to why this week was the worst.

“Shut up. I won’t let you do that.”

“Oh?” Plasmius powered a pink blast in each hand. “Then prove it.”

Danny tried, but with each attempted blast, kick, or punch, it seemed like Plasmius was one step ahead of him.

And worse, it felt like he was reveling in the power trip.

A burn here, a kick there—everywhere Danny looked, there was Vlad, glowing fist at the ready. It reminded him of the first time he’d encountered Vlad, back at the mansion. Having Vlad so openly destroy him had been shameful.

Danny collapsed onto the pavement, heaving, his entire body searing in pain.

Plasmius paused to survey him up and down with suspicious eyes. Finally, just as Danny was one breath away from turning invisible out of sheer discomfort, did the ghost finally open his mouth. “Alright, spit it out.”

Anxiety gripped Danny’s stomach. “What are you talking about?”

“Something’s troubling you enough to make you pathetically weak. It’s honestly embarrassing. I can’t stand here watching my future ward make a fool of himself any longer.”

“I’m not moving in with you, creep,” Danny bit back.

“That’s what you think. No matter, tell your dear old uncle what’s troubling you.”

“Go play in traffic.”

Plasmius’ eyes narrowed. “I’d nearly forgotten what a brat you are. Now tell me before I take methods into my own hands.”

Danny sighed, and attempted to stand. But the moment his foot touched the ground, a sharp pain shot up his shin. He hissed, and lowered himself back to the pavement.

“Well? I don’t have all day.”

“It’s nothing,” Danny grumbled, glaring at the pavement. He felt small under Plasmius’ critical gaze. “Nothing at all.”

“It’s obviously something,” Plasmius said, landing in front of Danny. “Now quit wasting my time and tell me what it is before I—”

“Then why don’t you leave? If I’m just wasting your precious time, then go home! It’s not like you even care about me anyways.”

Vlad leaned in, flaring his aura. “In case it’s not clear to your simple teenage brain, your actions represent the both of us. You fuck up, I have to pay the consequences.”

“Who says this is even about ghost stuff?” Danny hissed. “For all you know, I got in a fight with Jazz.”

Vlad scoffed. “Do you seriously believe me to be that stupid? Of course it’s about your identity! Why else would your core be acting so wildly if its Obsession weren’t at stake?”

Danny flinched.

“You did something, and I want to know what it is so I can determine if I need to run damage control on you or not before you blow this for all of us.”

“It’s...” Danny felt his aura pull back. “It’s about...you know…”

“I can assure you I do not know.”

“I...I might have…the police may have found...it…’

Plasmius sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand. “What did they find?”

“My—my, uh...body?”

“You mean your identity?” Plasmius’ eyes widened.

“Not exactly.” Danny felt his face burn. “You know...the body I left when I...after the accident.”

Plasmius reacted instantly. He shot up, glancing around, before grabbing Danny and pulling him through a hastily erected portal.

Danny felt his body squeeze through the portal and then seconds later, he was in Vlad’s study. The ghost threw Danny on his loveseat and heightened his aura. His brows creased, and his eyes glowed a dangerous shade of red. “What exactly do you mean when you say the police found your deceased body? How did this happen? What the hell did you do?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Danny cried indignantly. “They found it with their freakish police dog! I swear I buried it deep in the ground.”

“Well not deep enough, apparently!” Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Of all the stupid, childish things you could do!”

“It wasn’t my fault!”

Vlad ripped his hands away from his face, his eyes snapping back to Danny. He took a step closer to the teen, his eyes narrowing until a red glow peaked underneath. “Then whose fault would it be exactly, hmm? What, is this yet another piece of blame you’re going to cast upon my shoulders? Me, the halfa who has managed to keep this a well kept secret for over twenty years when you apparently can’t even manage to keep it to yourself for one?”

Danny let his own ghostly strength shine through his eyes. “Quit acting like I invited them all over. I didn’t, it was a coincidence. A mistake.”

“Oh, goodness me!” Vlad let out a sardonic laugh. “I guess when the Ghost Investigative Ward appear at my doorstep in a month, I’ll just tell them it was all a mistake. That’s sure to turn them right around!”

“Shut up.”

“No I will not.” Vlad’s face set back into a scowl. “You have proven yourself to be a liability again and again, and every single time it’s me who has to clean up your little messes. Messes that you don’t seem to realize could be the end of our kind!”

Anxiety shot through Danny’s stomach. He gripped the arm rests of the chair, squeezing them so tightly he heard the faint sounds of cracking in the wood.

“And now you mean to tell me that the police have your rotting, ectoplasm-drenched inhuman corpse in their possession?” Vlad yelled. “And you’re really trying to argue with me that it was just a simple mistake?”

Danny’s shaking hand slipped, tearing off a chunk of the armchair. It clattering to the floor. “I don’t—I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t…”

Vlad closed his eyes, but Danny could still see the wisps of red shimmering through his eyelids. “No, of course you didn’t. But that doesn’t mean we can let them keep it.”

“I’ve tried.” His voice cracked. “I keep trying to convince them to stop, but they won’t—”

“What, you actually thought they’d listen to you? A ghost? My boy, I know you were dim, but this is truly extraordinary.”

Danny sniffed, keeping his head down. He felt like an egg boiling over, the yolk just one jolt away from breaking.

“No…” Plasmius hummed. “What we need is to take it back by force.”

“We can’t, they have the whole morgue under a shield. We can get in as ghosts, and it’d look too suspicious if we showed up as humans.”

“Unfortunately, you may be right about us appearing as humans. We can’t do that. But,” Plasmius’ tone shifted, “one thing we can do is break the shield.”

Danny froze. He gazed questioningly up at the older ghost, who was facing the window with a renewed sense of determination. “Break the shield? How? We can’t touch it!”

“No, but the shield doesn’t exist on its own. It has to be generated from somewhere, doesn’t it? Do you see? We break the device, we break the shield.”

Danny wasn’t following, and he was sure his face betrayed that much.

“Listen, Little Badger. Ghosts cannot touch the shield or the device, but who says—oh I don’t know—maybe a collapsed ceiling might do the trick? Some torn cables, perhaps? After all, with no energy supply, how could it possibly generate the power necessary to produce a shield?”

Danny felt his eyes widen. Something icy settled in his gut. When he spoke, his voice was hollow. “You want to destroy the building.”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t be so crude, but perhaps a few colleagues of mine might be swayed—”

“No.” Danny stood automatically.

Vlad’s head snapped over to him. “No?”

He could feel Vlad’s confusion, and it blended with his own. Deep down, he knew he needed to stop at nothing to get his body back, but collapsing the building? Putting others in danger?

Putting his remains in danger of ruin?

What if something happened? What if a brick fell on his skull? What if a spike tore his abdomen in half?

No, he couldn’t do it. It wasn’t worth the risk.

This was wrong.

“We can’t,” Danny choked out. “You’ll hurt it.”

“I don’t think you understand, Little Badger,” Vlad hissed, leaning down.

Danny could feel the heat of his red eyes on his skull.

“With the position you’ve put us both in? You don’t get to decide what happens to your corpse now.”

“No, Vlad. I’m serious. You can’t—”

“And so am I.” Plasmius straightened, and his aura tinted to a dangerous pink. “You’ve put us at risk one time too many. Now I’m taking things into my own hands. And no amount of scary eyes is going to sway me.”

In one motion, Vlad ripped open a portal and pushed Danny through. Before he could blink, he was back in the damp alley they’d just been in.

“Good day, Danny Phantom.”

Plasmius shut the portal, and Danny was alone.

---

“Thank you for taking the time to come talk to us about this,” Mark said, opening the conference room door for the consultant before him. “This case is unfortunately a bit out of my expertise, and the lab results are even more perplexing. Hopefully you’ll be able to parse through the documents much easier than I.”

Dr. Maddie Fenton, dressed in her typical turquoise lab attire, stepped through the door and took a seat at the table. “Of course, I’m always happy to help Amity’s law enforcement protect its citizens against ghosts.”

“Well,” Mark pulled out a chair for himself, placing the manila folders against the table. “This is actually a bit more complex.”

“Oh?” Dr. Fenton reached for the folders.

“To bring you up to speed, I mentioned on the phone that we needed your assistance with a murder case involving a ghost. But there’s a bit more to it.”

She opened the folder and leafed through the files.

“The truth is the body we uncovered we believe to be Phantom’s body.”

Dr. Fenton paused, her eyebrows shooting up. She glanced up at Mark. “That’s a rather serious case. What evidence do you have to support that?”

“Well…” Mark started. “When we uncovered the body, Phantom appeared above it, and was acting rather erratically. Like a cornered animal, almost.”

“He felt threatened.”

“Right.” He nodded. “But it’s more than that. When we ran forensics on the body, we found that all our lab results were corrupted with ectoplasm. Ectoplasm that when we ran the ectosignature for, turned out to be Phantom’s.”

Dr. Fenton looked back down at the files. “That’s highly unusual.”

“Well we were hoping you’d be able to piece this all together.” Mark gestured to the files.

“I see…” Dr. Fenton’s voice trailed off. Her eyes scanned the page, hungrily soaking up each word. The silence stretched on for a few minutes as Mark awaited her opinion.

Contacting the Fentons had been something Mark had been pushing off for as long as possible. The Fentons were loud, boisterous, and not at all known for their professionalism nor tact.

But it was either they contact the Fentons or the Ghost Investigation Ward. And despite Phantom’s cold demeanor towards the detectives, Mark still had hope that perhaps he could gain the teen ghost’s trust. And to do that, the GiW could not be anywhere near the station.

Of the duo, Maddie Fenton seemed the most level-headed. And it had just been Mark’s luck that of the pair, she was the one with a doctorate in ectobiology. Which meant that it was perfectly understandable when Mark had requested that she alone come into the station to review the files.

“We’re trying to keep this on the down-low. If Phantom feels like we’re going to turn him over to the government, he’ll clam up. As it stands we’re only barely getting information out of him.”

“Well, I wouldn’t trust anything he says anyway,” she said, not looking up from the paper. “He’ll do whatever possible to keep himself safe. Ghosts are products of their Obsessions, and Phantom is no different. If he feels like this investigation is going to come in the way of him being able to feed into his Obsession, then he’ll do anything to stop that from happening. No matter who he hurts in the process.”

Mark felt a shudder creep up his spine. “Do you think he could be lying about this being his body? Maybe he could have been the one to kill this boy and is trying to cover it up?”

“Hmm…no, that doesn’t seem likely given the labs. And besides, it would be highly unusual for Phantom to be summoned to a body that wasn’t his. Although…” Dr. Fenton mused. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this before.”

“Like what?”

“Well, when an animal dies near a cluster of ambient ectoplasm, their body runs the risk of forming a ghost. However, there must be a significant final moment for the neural pathways in the brain to bond with the ectoplasm. That moment translates into an Obsession, which forms the core that the ghost then forms around. If a human dies peacefully, there’s nothing to work with. But if the human dies violently, or if they die with unfinished business, that gives the ambient ectoplasm something to charge with.”

Mark nodded politely, not seeing where this was going. This was all common knowledge for the people of Amity, and Mark had certainly seen enough of the Fentons’ public speeches to understand these basics.

“The ambient ectoplasm comes from the electrical connections in the brain, unrelated to what’s happening in the body. It’s why a human can be paralyzed from the waist-down, but still form a ghost with functioning legs. Do you see what I’m saying?”

Mark nodded, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m not seeing how this relates to Phantom specifically?”

“There’s no real reason that Phantom’s human body should have been corrupted by ectoplasm. In fact, there’s never been a case of a human body with an ectosignature embedded in its cells. It’s virtually impossible, in fact. Living cells are completely incompatible with ectoplasm.”

Mark stared down at his own copy of the reports, his mind reeling. “You’ve never seen this before?”

“Not in my twenty years in this field.”

“Do you have any idea what could have caused this?”

Dr. Fenton pursed her lips. “There’s one...it would explain a lot about him actually. Human experimentation.”

Oh.

Oh.

Shit.

“You don’t think…” Mark’s voice trailed off, his tongue incapable of finishing the sentence. To think that some sick individual would even attempt such a thing.

“It’s the only logical explanation here.” Dr. Fenton gestured at her folder. “Or at least, the only one I can piece together given this information. Phantom would have had to have died after interacting with an intense amount of ecto-technology. Technology with the power to chemically alter every cell in his living body just before finishing him off with electrocution. Of course, it’s just a theory. Only Phantom knows the truth.”

“Right.” He could hardly process what was being said. “But he won’t tell us the truth.”

“Well, I’m not surprised. Ghosts run a different social hierarchy than humans, theirs is far more simple. It’s entirely based on strength. The stronger the ghost, the better they protect their haunt, the more respect they’re given within ghost culture. If Phantom shows weakness, then the other ghosts can use that to dethrone him as the human world’s great protector.”

“But we’re not ghosts.”

“But he is.” Dr. Fenton cocked her head. “This explains other things too. Like the fact that Phantom, a relatively new ghost, is already a level seven on the ectoplasm power scale.”

“I assume that’s unusual.”

“Quite. It would have had to require an extremely intense death at the very least. But human experimentation with ectoplasm, feelling your body reject itself from the inside out, every strand of DNA being corrupted by the essence of death—that’s not an end I’d wish on my worst enemies.”

“And now we have his corpse. Phantom’s going to feel incredibly threatened. He’s bound to lash out.”

Dr. Fenton nodded gravely. “Then you better wrap this investigation up quickly, because Phantom is still a young ghost. He’s impatient, like a child. The longer you take to solve this case, the more unstable he’ll get. And I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end when he finally snaps.”

---

A dull unease panged at Danny’s core. It was calling to him, trying to goad him to his corpse.

Trouble, trouble, trouble, it seemed to whisper.

But he ignored it, just like he’d been ignoring it all this time. Because no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t get past the shields, he couldn’t get back to his corpse.

He was powerless. Alone.

Scared.

He tried to focus on his math worksheet, but the numbers blurred together and he couldn’t remember what eight times seven was. He had a calculator, but it was in his bag and he couldn’t remember what pocket he’d shoved it into, or even if he’d remembered to put it in his bag last night after staring blankly at the homework assignment for an hour without lifting his pencil even once.

No, his calculator was probably still on his desk at home.

Trouble, trouble, trouble.

The voices were louder now, and the pull was more desperate.

His throat hurt, and for a moment he was convinced his lungs were collapsing before he remembered that he’d forgotten to release the air trapped in his lungs and he couldn’t remember when he’d stopped breathing.

“Danny?” Mr. Falluca said from the front of the room. “Is everything alright?”

He commanded his head to nod, but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded. Maybe he did. He couldn’t check, he couldn’t lift his eyes from the desk.

The voices were too loud.

The dull pang wasn’t so dull anymore.

Trouble, trouble, go now, go now.

The pang was solidifying, taking shape. It was becoming sharper, more urgent.

Go now, go now, go now.

The pokes turned into pricks, threatening to rupture his organs, sending needles down the nerves in his arms and legs. A headache sparked before his eyes and his vision swam.

The voices attacked him from all angles, and fingers brushed against his skin, tugging the sleeves of his shirt towards the window, the ceiling, the wall, the door— anywhere so long as it was away from here. Outside. To the morgue.

Go to the morgue.

Ignore it, be strong. Just ignore it and it’ll go away.

Go now.

No.

Go now, go now, GO NOW.

No, he couldn’t.

The pinpricks finally morphed into one sharp, icy cold knife.

It stabbed his core.

Go now.

He stood from his chair, knocking it back.

Vaguely, he could hear the alarmed cries of his classmates, but he ignored them.

The only thing that mattered was his body. His corpse.

Protect.

A hand grabbed his arm, yanking him back, but he could feel the warmth of the human blood running under its veins and he couldn’t be bothered with human problems right now. Not when he was in danger.

He phased through the grip, and ran out of the classroom. He sprinted down the hall, tearing open the familiar looking door and transforming and taking off into the sky nearly as soon as the sun brushed his skin.

This was different than all the other times his core had tried to coax him to his corpse. Something was wrong. Really, really wrong. His body was in danger, and he needed to save it.

He heard an explosion in the distance, and he increased his speed, feeling his eyes sting as the cool air slapped against his corneas. The world blurred, but it was okay. His core was guiding him now, not his eyes. He didn’t need to see, he just needed to close off and follow his ghostly instincts.

“That’s right!” A deep voice yelled from across the way.

Danny pulled to a halt, blinking the sting from his vision.

Then a boulder flew past his body, hitting the wall of a disturbingly familiar building.

His core yelled in protest. The body was in danger. His body.

“You thought a pesky shield could keep me out? Me, Skulker, the Ghost Zone’s greatest hunter? I’ll show you!”

Ice filled his veins, freezing his aura and building in power around his hands.

Skulker hoisted a parked motorcycle from the edge of the street into the air. “Take this!” he yelled, hurling it into the air.

It was heading straight for the door. It was going to break it, it might break the window, it could damage the body.

An icicle stabbed his core, and before Danny could blink, his hands were raised and jagged blue ice was shooting from his palms, catching the motorcycle in midair and pinning it to the street.

“What is the meaning of this?” Skulker roared, whipping around. His eyes locked on Danny and his confusion melted from this face only to be replaced by a triumphant smirk. “Well hello there, ghost child.”

Danny’s palms burned an even brighter blue. “ Leave,” he hissed, the Ghost Speak slipping off his tongue like butter.

Skulker’s grin widened. “It seems I’ve touched a nerve. Fear not, child, I’m just here to procure your pelt. Well, your other pelt.”

He flashed his aura in a showcase of power that would send most ghosts running for the hills. “Leave.”

A look of contempt replaced the humor on Skulker’s face. His eyes narrowed, and his voice lowered. “I don’t take orders from you, child.”

There was a natural balancing act between his human brain and ghost core, one that ensured that neither half of him was in full control one hundred percent of the time. No matter how human he was, his core still lingered in the background, and no matter how ghost he was, his human brain still kept tabs on his movements.

But now, as Danny watched Skulker rip a slab of concrete from the ground, he felt something snap inside of him.

“Then I have no choice.”

Green overtook his vision, and Danny Fenton simply disappeared.

Time passed—or it didn’t—in swirls of blue and green. If he looked out, he could see the power released from his gloves, he could see the mix of ectoplasm and ice that he was hurling at Skulker, to protect the building, to protect his body, to protect himself from Plasmius.

That vindictive, lonely asshole.

Who was Plasmius to encroach on what was his?

There were flashing lights around him, but Danny paid them no mind. The only thing that mattered was protecting his body.

Protect his haunt.

Protect his people.

Protect.

He could feel the newly pointed teeth pinch his gums, and the ghostly wisps of his hair fizzle around him. But oddly these changes didn’t worry him, instead they made him feel safe, secure. Like a child clinging onto their blanket.

He launched another barrage of attacks at Skulker, tearing holes through his armor. Panic struck Skulker’s features, and all Danny could think of was, ‘good.’ If Skulker wanted to try to claim dominance over his body, then he would suffer tenfold.

And just before he was about to launch a blast at Skulker that was sure to disintegrate his armor, an amplified voice behind him called out, “PHANTOM!”

Danny flinched, his power leaking out of its concentrated ball.

Weak.

“Phantom, stand down!”

Not a chance.

“We have the area surrounded. Stand down or we’ll be forced to shoot.”

“Better listen to your human puppets,” Skulker said, his voice too shaken to sound mocking. “I know when I’ve been bested.”

It took everything in Danny’s power to not launch himself over to Skulker and tear off his head. “You tried to steal my body.”

“That’s a fight between you and Plasmius.”

“Don’t try to get out of this.”

“Phantom,” Detective Johnson said. “Final warning. Stand down.”

Ectoplasm surged throughout his body. “Make me.”

Multiple events happened at once. Skulker motioned to leave just as Danny raised his arms, blistering white light moments away from release. Then, pain seared through his torso.

Danny yelped, jerking his hand back and releasing the ectoblast somewhere off into the sky. He fell back and hit the ecto-shield, sending electrical warnings through his bones.

Memories of the portal, of the thousands of volts of electricity, of the feeling of his bones and muscles and tissues and cells being ripped apart and stitched back together flashed before his eyes. It was too much, all too much too soon too present. He tried blasting the portal but his gloves were splattered with green and oh no, not good, not good.

He was dying, wasn’t he?

Again.

Would he have a second body?

His vision tilted, and finally he managed to rip himself away from the shield. He collapsed onto the cement and stared up at the sky, chest heaving.

He was paralyzed. He knew he had fingers, toes, arms, legs—but they didn’t work. He couldn’t feel anything. Couldn’t fly.

He was dying.

“Phantom?” Johnson’s cautious voice sounded from somewhere off to the side. “Sit up, let’s talk through this.”

There was a pregnant pause, and then Danny finally managed to blink. The world snapped back into focus, and his surroundings came with it. He looked down at his torso to see a little hole in his side of his suit surrounded by a trickle of green.

“What—?” Danny gasped.

“I’m gonna put the gun down, okay?” Johnson said. “I just wanna talk.”

“No.” Danny slowly pushed himself up. He surveyed the damage along the walls, the falling bricks on the sidewalk, the shattered windows and bent door. “No, no, no.”

His body wasn’t safe. Not anymore.

“Phantom, come on. Work with me here.”

But he couldn’t. That detective and his partner were just human, they didn’t understand. This was his body and Vlad knew about it and was trying to take matters into his own hands no matter the cost to Danny.

This was a disaster. He shouldn’t have told Vlad anything. He was so stupid for thinking Vlad could help him. He should have known, should have known.

“Phantom.”

“No.”

The cloak of invisibility covered his body, and he shot up into the sky.

Towards the city.

He needed to end this.

---

Sarah felt the chill first.

“You have to stop,” Phantom’s voice echoed behind her.

She sighed and put down her pencil. “Phantom, I thought I explained this already. The police can’t—”

“I don’t care about the police!”

The room grew cold.

“I don’t...ugh!” Phantom floated around her desk, clutching his forehead with one hand and his chest with the other. Mark had just called her with a warning, saying that Phantom was unstable. Looking at the ghost now, Sarah had to agree.

Phantom looked awful.

Dark circles pooled under his eyes, his hair stuck up in all directions, and his face lacked the green blush that normally sat below his skin. His jumpsuit was burned and dried ectoplasm crusted around the torn edges. He looked every bit the image of someone quickly coming undone.

Except this wasn’t just some random person, this was a powerful ghost. This was someone who could easily kill anyone who wronged him.

Or who he felt wronged him.

Deep down, Sarah knew Phantom wasn’t a violent ghost. It didn’t line up with his ghostly Obsession, or the theorized one anyway. But this was his corpse they were dealing with, it was an extension of himself.

Sarah had never confronted a ghost who had lost possession of their corpse. She’d never dealt with a ghost who willingly protected the shield that kept him away from his body if only to make sure it stayed safe. She’d never seen Phantom look so rattled.

At this point, there was no telling what he was capable of.

“Phantom,” she tried cautiously. “You need to calm down.”

“No, you need to tell your buddies to call off this investigation!”

“You know I can’t do that. I have no control over the department, and even if I did, we need to follow the law.”

His eyes flashed dangerously. “Why, because I’m a ghost? Because my words mean nothing because I’m not human? I’m telling you that I don’t want to press any charges, I don’t get why that’s not good enough!”

The room grew even colder.

“We’ve been over this. Please, Phantom, sit down—”

“No!” he snapped. “I’ve been telling you guys since the beginning that this was a bad idea, that people are going to get hurt! And no, nobody listened to me because I’m a fucking ghost! And now look, the building was attacked! My body was attacked! Do you—” his voice cracked, and the glow on his eyes wobbled. He drifted closer to her. “Do you even understand? Do you get how dangerous this is? Do you understand the people you guys have pissed off? Who you’re playing with now?”

Sarah took a deep breath. Even as a human, the power Phantom was emitting was palpable. “What people? You mean the ghost who attacked the morgue?”

“Not him. He—he’s just a lacky. Just following orders.” He let out a bitter laugh, running his hand over his forehead and smearing green across his skin. “You guys have no idea, you really don’t…”

Dread crept up Sarah’s spine. If what Mark was saying was true, then this could run deeper than they thought. “Explain it to me.”

“I’m…” He glanced up, looking ill. “I’m not…normal. For a ghost, I mean. I can’t explain it. I really can’t. But the other ghosts...they consider me a liability. And now that you guys have my—my body, they’re afraid.”

“Why are they afraid?”

“Because…” His brow furrowed. “I can’t—I can’t…”

She tilted her head, watching the ghost choke on his words. “Can’t, or won’t?”

“It doesn’t matter. They’ll stop at nothing till they get my body back. They’ll kill everyone in that building if it means nobody finds out my secret.”

What secret? Sarah wanted to scream, but she held back.

“Phantom,” Sarah lowered her tone. “Are they the reason you’ve been so afraid of us finding out the truth? Have they threatened you in any way?”

“No!” He backed up in shock. “I—I mean, sort of? Listen, it’s not because of him—them, I promise. It’s more complicated than that. He’s just protecting me, you know? If my secret gets out, that would put them all in danger, but it would put me in even more danger. I wouldn’t...I’d have to leave. I’d be on the run.”

“Why?”

“It’s so messed up.”

“Then tell me.”

She already knew. She just needed him to confirm it for her.

He looked to her, his bright green eyes seemingly desperate for help. But he shook his head. “I can’t do this.”

“Wait—”

But he was already gone.

---

“I’ve never seen him look so scared,” Abrams said.

“So you think he’s right.” Crowley took a long swig of his coffee, “Course you do.”

“It makes sense,” Abrams insisted. “Why else would Phantom be so terrified of people finding the truth?”

“Oh gee, I don’t know, maybe it’s because he’s a teen who was playing with electrical equipment he wasn’t supposed to be near and even in death doesn’t want to get in trouble for it!”

“Yes but how would that explain all the ectoplasm in his DNA? That doesn’t come from just any electric shock.”

“Who knows,” Crowley said. “The Fentons have always been crackpots. Always have had ludicrous theories. Now suddenly when it’s convenient, you’re all running to their side?”

Mark rolled his eyes. “We’re not running to their side.”

“Then what do you call this?” Crowley gestured to the duo. “Sure looks like it to me.”

“You have to admit that it makes sense,” Mark said. “I mean, get real. Doesn’t any of this smell fishy to you?”

Crowley slapped his empty coffee mug on the table. “You know what smells fishy to me? The Fentons are the only known ecto-scientists in this whole damn city, the only people who have lab-grade ecto-equipment in Amity Park, and suddenly right when they were getting into some financial trouble, Phantom appears out of nowhere from a death that reeks of forced ecto-contamination. That smells fishy to me.”

Mark paused, but then shook his head. “If that were true, then why would Dr. Fenton even offer human experimentation as a possibility?”

“To gloat? Gain our trust? Test our intelligence?” Crowley threw his hands up. “Who knows? They’re crazy!”

“So you think we need to investigate them?” Mark asked.

“I’d be a damn shit detective if I didn’t. They have the means and motive to create a ghost like Phantom. It’s just like Maddie said.”

“I think he’s right,” Abrams said, nibbling on her bagel. “If this is actually a case of ecto-experimentation, then the Fentons should be on the list of suspects.”

“Finally, some common sense around here. Just about the only case of common sense these days…” Crowley grumbled.

Mark chose to ignore that comment, instead checking his phone. No notifications, damn. The entire department had been on high alert for Phantom ever since the attack on the morgue. Mark was just relieved that the new and improved ecto-guns had finally been issued that morning. If not for the updated technology, that incident likely would have ended far less smoothly.

Not that it really ended smoothly. Phantom had yet again escaped Mark’s clutches, free to run off and break into Sarah’s home.

Guilt clawed at Mark’s stomach, but he pushed it back. Phantom was a slippery ghost, one that had escaped all levels of ghost hunters from the Fentons, to the Ghost Investigation Ward. Mark knew it would take a lot more than a few words of peace and one ecto-gun to stop that kind of raw power.

“What do we even know about the Fentons?” Abrams asked.

“They’re ghost hunters and mostly make weapons now, but before that they dabbled in all sorts of ecto-based technology. The husband, Jack, is the engineer and the wife, Maddie, is the biologist. They have two kids, Jasmine and Daniel. Jasmine, or ‘Jazz’ is supposedly top of her class, likely to graduate valedictorian, while Daniel’s something else. Bad grades, skips class, all around a bit of a loner,” Crowley said, regurgitating information like he was reading a case file.

Mark glanced at his colleague, giving him an impressed smirk. “Did your homework early, eh?”

“I told you, something aint right here,” Crowley said.

“And? What do you think?” Mark asked.

“What I think is that I’m shocked their house is even coded to have a lab inside. I’d like to know whose ass they kissed to give them that permit.”

Abrams snorted. “Jesus, Jacob.”

“What? I’m right!”

“Fine, whatever,” Mark stood, collecting his empty coffee cup and paper plate. “I godda head home, my sister’s visiting this weekend.”

“Alright, tell Susan I said hello. And say hi to her little demon child too.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “She’s four.”

“What, four year olds can’t be demons? I should know, I had two of them.”

Abrams swiped her empty wrapper and tossed it in the trash. “Yeah, I have to feed Atlas. I’ll see you both next week.”

“Take care!”

---

“Well at least we know Phantom didn’t change anything about his facial structure when he became a ghost.” Crowley’s small eyes swiveled between the photo of Phantom in one hand and the new sketch rendition of his human identity.

Mark grunted and stared at his own copy of the photo.

The corpse had been too decomposed to be able to distinguish a face, and ghosts often change their appearance in death. Sure, Phantom looked like a regular human, but it was impossible to know that for a fact.

Fortunately, modern research and re-composition was advanced enough that they didn’t have to wonder for long. Especially with this being such a high-profile case for the city.

And as it turned out, aside from the hair, Phantom really didn’t look all too different when he was alive. He had the same sharp nose, the same angular chin, the same boyish face. The only thing that was different was his hair and presumably his eye color, although that was still a mystery due to the corrupted DNA.

Even though there was little change to Phantom’s appearance, seeing the black haired, brown eyed human boy staring back at Mark was rather shocking, if he were being honest. There was something off putting about seeing this enigma quite literally brought back to life. It took away that edge of lore that the heroic town enigma had.

Now Phantom wasn’t some wild mystery. He was just...a kid.

“This really is something,” Crowley said. “Guess we should put it to good use.”

Mark sighed, turning his attention back to his desktop. Sifting through missing person’s reports was never exactly a fun way to start the morning.

“You think you can handle it, rookie?” Crowley asked.

“Yeah, I got it. I’ll let you know if I find anything interesting.”

Crowley let the photographs drop to his side. “Alright, I’m going to continue doing some digging on our suspects.”

“Good luck.”

“And you.”

The work was tedious and depressing. Face after face of missing minors flickered across his screen. It was almost too hard to believe that Phantom was a part of this list.

Caucasian. Black hair. Eye color unknown. Five foot five.

That was all they had on Phantom. For all they knew, he could have been from another city entirely.

But hopefully Mark would find a hit, at least one kid from Amity who fit the profile.

And in fact, there were a few...sort of. Four teens who had black hair and were about five foot five. But none of them looked quite like Phantom.

Which meant Mark had to widen his search.

How wonderful.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms out wide. It was nearly lunchtime now and he felt like he’d gotten no further than where he was before. Mark stood from his chair, feeling a bit defeated. Hopefully Crowley would’ve had better luck on the suspect list than Mark.

He strolled over to Crowley’s desk, only to find the desk empty. Crowley had likely already left for lunch, the bastard hadn’t even bothered to grab Mark on the way.

Not that Mark could really blame him. He doubted Crowley wanted to use his lunch break to talk about the case after the tedious research they both had spent their mornings doing.

Mark dug his phone out of his pocket, intent on sending the older detective an update, when he stopped. Out of the corner of his eye, a familiar face stared up at him.

Mark slowly lowered the device and crept toward the desk, as if his mere presence would disintegrate the paper on his desk.

Inside Fentonworks: the Fenton family’s home-grown anti-ghost business!

It was an article printed from some online magazine that Mark didn’t recognize. Slapped on the cover of the page, just under the title, was a photo of a family of four beaming, waving at the camera. One of the members was a young boy—about Phantom’s age—with black hair in almost the same haircut as Phantom, with that crooked smile that Phantom had been caught adorning all too many times.

Waving at the camera.

Skinny, short for a boy, son to two ecto-science parents who fill their basement with dangerous high-voltage and easily combustible ecto-technology.

His name was listed as Daniel.

Mark glanced at the two images in his hand, and then looked at the article below him.

Holy shit.

No. There was no way. Crowley had been suspicious of them, and he had good reason to include them on his suspect list, but this kid was alive. He wasn’t missing, he wasn’t dead, he was standing right there.

It just wasn’t possible.

His apple watch pinged, alerting him of a ghost attack nearby.

Mark hurried back to his desk, swiping his coat off his chair.

This was impossible.

The police sketch and the copy of the article pressed against his fist.

Phantom was a ghost. Ghosts will do anything to protect themselves. They would lie, cheat, and manipulate humans in order to stay on top.

Mark was just seeing things.

There was no way that this was him.

He beelined for the door, tucking the papers into his pants pocket.

It wasn’t possible.

The drive there was short, and the fight even shorter. It had just been the Box Ghost, so nothing that Phantom couldn’t handle. The ghost gave his little song and dance, captured the ghost, and waved brightly to the crowd. But Mark could see right through it, right past all the cracks in his façade.

Phantom was losing it.

And Mark could end this.

“Phantom!” Mark called out through his cupped hands.

The ghost flinched, his cheery face replaced with a scowl instantly.

“Another time,” he said.

But Mark didn’t have another time. He needed to know now.

Because Phantom could end this insane proposition. He could laugh heartlessly at the mere mention that he was this random living child. He was Phantom, protector of Amity Park, not some human experiment.

Not some impossibility.

Not some kid who’s been dead for a year and only pretending to be human for his family.

Not the greatest act of manipulation from a ghost that Mark had ever seen.

Mark yanked the papers from his pocket and unfolded them with shaking fingers. He held them up hastily, knowing that they were too far away for normal human eyes.

But this was Phantom. He wasn’t human.

Mark saw the exact moment that Phantom recognized the photos. The ghost’s eyes widened, his face paled, his aura dimmed. Then, in the blink of an eye, the ghost vanished.

Mark was right.

---

The air was thick, tense. Phantom slumped in his armchair, his body the equivalent of a white flag. Even so, his eyes were bright, charged with nervous energy.

He was terrified.

Atlas must have sensed this, because the dog had decided to break away from being Sarah’s shadow to lay against the ghost’s feet.

“I don’t know where to start,” Phantom admitted after a few tense beats of silence.

“The beginning, maybe,” Jacob said.

Phantom looked sick at the suggestion, but relented. “You’re right. Yeah...I…” he glanced up at the two detectives and Sarah seated across the coffee table on her dull green couch. Phantom had appeared in her kitchen not even an hour ago, looking like he’d just seen the personification of death itself.

And instantly, Sarah knew.

She’d tried to coax him to let her bring him to the station so he could come clean there, but he refused. He said the information was too sensitive and he didn’t trust the station to not have cameras recording every angle of every room.

And so they settled on her living room instead. Mark and Jacob arrived, seeming none too surprised by the arrangement, and more than willing to follow Phantom’s direction if it meant they would finally get the truth.

Which Phantom didn’t seem remotely ready to give.

“I guess…” He tried again, closing his eyes. There was another tense moment of silence before a pair of white rings appeared around Phantom’s waist, traveling up his body and leaving behind a skinny black haired teenager.

Phantom cautiously opened his eyes. And, to Sarah’s surprise, they were blue.

“You’re Daniel Fenton,” Mark said.

She heard Jacob suck in a breath.

“Yes. I’m Danny Fenton.” Without the echo, his voice sounded much closer, much more down to earth than Phantom’s. “And a year ago, I was in an accident.”

His voice, like the rest of him, seemed softer without the powerful aura of Phantom behind it. If Sarah had passed him on the street, she wouldn’t have blinked twice. Gone was the cocky personality, the perfect posture, the floating white hair, the bright, determined expression. Gone was the jumpsuit, the logo, the strong voice that seemed like it could project for a mile, the banter, the confidence.

It was just a kid. A kid with baggy jeans, dirty shoes, and a plain shirt. He didn’t seem lithe, he looked weak. The green undertone to his skin was replaced with red, and his shoulders hunched in a way Sarah had never seen on Phantom before.

“What happened?” Mark asked.

“When my parents first completed their interdimensional ghost portal, it didn’t work. I decided to—it was my fault. I just decided to go in it. I don’t know why.” He looked up to the ceiling. “It was a stupid idea. The portal was plugged in, but there was a switch inside that wasn’t turned on, and I tripped over a wire and turned it on. From the inside.”

Sarah felt a pang in her chest. “That’s horrible.”

“Yeah. It was,” Phantom agreed. “And then I guess the portal stabilized the connection between Amity Park and the Ghost Zone, because ghosts started appearing in town. So I decided that if it was my fault that they were here, I was going to protect the town. And that’s what I’ve done.”

That’s his Obsession, Sarah realized. It’s protection.

“Why not come out with it?” Jacob asked. “Why bury your body? Why still try to pass as a human?”

Phantom’s head fell into his hands. “I didn’t know what else to do! It—I...you have to understand, my parents would never understand. They think all ghosts are evil. I couldn’t just come out and tell them what happened, they’d kill me!”

“So you decided it was safer to play human,” Jacob said.

“Yeah. I guess I did. Especially since...I sort of still am?” He lifted his head and stuck out his wrist. “I still have a pulse.”

No one moved.

“You’re shitting me,” Jacob guffawed.

“No, I’m being serious. The portal killed me, but then it brought me back to life. Except by then my body was already altered from the ecto-electricity, so the working theory is that I exist in this sort of limbo state between dead and alive. Hence why…” He transformed into Phantom and then back to Fenton. “Hence why I have two forms.”

“And the body,” Mark said. “The coroner report said it only weighed a little over half the weight of a normal body due to all the ectoplasm. But if you’re half alive, how would you have a body?”

Danny shrugged. “I don’t know? To be honest, that day was such a nightmare that I’ve mostly blocked it out.”

Mark finally reached over and took the boy’s wrist. He pressed two fingers against the skin and waited.

“Damn.” His eyes widened. “It’s actually there.”

“No way,” Jacob said, leaning over to take Phantom’s wrist. A few seconds passed before he was joining Mark’s reaction. “It is there.”

“I know.” Phantom tucked his arm back to his chest. “I don’t understand it. I have a heart and also a ghost core. I can feel it all the time, even as a human. I have human thoughts and feelings and ghostly instincts playing constantly.”

As confusing and morbid as this was, it made sense in a sort of twisted way that Sarah only reserved for the rambling logic of her paranoid, senior grandmother. It explained why Phantom, a ghost, would willingly risk himself day in and day out over the safety of humans. Phantom was a ghost who was driven to protect his home, and he was also a human who wanted to look after those he loved.

He was truly Schrödinger’s cat. Dead and alive inside his little box, his little town, with no one able to measure him.

“That’s the thing that sets you apart from the ghosts,” Sarah said, tapping her knee with her finger. “That day when you came to my house saying that you were different, this is what you were talking about. You also said it would be dangerous if this information got out.”

The question was implied, and Phantom seemed to pick up on it, judging by his grimace.

“You weren’t talking about your parents.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“So then who is it? Who was trying to destroy the morgue? Who are you hiding from?”

Danny crossed his arms and glared at the floor. “Isn’t it obvious?” he said bitterly. “The government. GiW, all of them. Think of what they’d do if they knew someone could be both dead and alive at the same time.”

“Well fuck the lot of them,” Jacob said.

“Yeah,” Danny agreed.

“And the ghost who was trying to take down the morgue?” Mark pressed.

“I…” Danny’s eyes shifted. “I can’t say. It’s a ghost thing. All the ghosts in the Zone know about me, they call me a halfa. Half alive, half dead. Honestly, I don’t think it took much convincing for them to want to protect me.”

“But you were fighting against them,” Jacob countered. “If they were really trying to protect you, then why not go along with them?”

Danny opened and closed his mouth, the words seemingly stuck in his throat. Words from Maddie’s ecto-biology papers fluttered across Sarah’s eyes, about how ghosts were evil, they were liars, they’d say and do anything to keep themselves safe.

But as Danny let out a defeated sigh, his arms uncrossing to dangle at his side, Sarah couldn’t help but see the face of a scared teen who was just doing his best.

“It’s a ghost thing,” he finally said. “I didn’t like what they were doing because...because I needed to protect my body. If the building collapsed, it would have gotten damaged.”

Sarah blinked, and her and Mark exchanged a glance.

“I see,” Mark said carefully. “So if there was a plan to recover your...body...safely, you would have gone along with it?”

“I don’t know. Ghosts are weird, they all have their own agenda. I’d rather if it were just...left alone. In the ground. Untouched. Like it had been.”

They were silent for a moment, and Sarah watched as Jacob and Mark stared at each other in silent conversation. One that only partners could properly understand.

Finally, Jacob relented. “Okay, here’s the deal. Say I go talk with Chief Davis and he agrees to keep your identity secret. In exchange, all you’d have to do for us is tell your parents.”

For a moment, Sarah thought Phantom was going to bolt out of the armchair.

“Why?”

“Because you’re screwing around putting your life in danger every day, kid,” Jacob said. “Not to mention, your parents’ house is a walking minefield for you. You godda protect yourself.”

“I protect myself just fine.”

“Doesn’t dismiss the fact that you’re running off getting in fights every day with ghosts, and then coming home to a house littered with ecto-weapons that could kill you. You know, all the way.”

“My parents will kill me if they find out though,” Danny said darkly. “You don’t know them.”

“Which is why you won’t be alone. Crowley and I will be there with you. And I know a woman in CPS who can keep this on the down low too. We won’t let anything happen, promise,” Mark said.

Phantom glanced between them, his wide blue eyes betraying just how fearful he was. “You promise?”

“Yeah kid, we got your back.”

---

“It’s going way better than I thought,” Danny said, throwing the stick up the path.

Atlas didn’t hesitate, bounding after the object with an enthusiasm rivaled by no one.

“I’m glad,” Sarah said. “You deserve a safe place to go home to.”

Danny cocked his head. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

Getting to know Danny these past few weeks was surreal. For a year now, Sarah had a set mental image of who Phantom was. The hero, the great protector, the thrill-seeker.

But now, as she got to know the quiet yet snarky kid who went to school and stressed over his math exams just like any other teen would, she’d gotten to appreciate the person that Danny truly was, the person he became when he wasn’t trying to hide his ghostly persona or playing the larger-than-life character.

Atlas pranced back, the stick held high like an Olympic medal.

“Good boy!” Danny praised.

At Sarah’s nonverbal command, Atlas dropped the stick in front of Danny, who was more than happy to pick it up and hurl ahead of the dirt path again.

“It’s weird. It’s almost like...I don’t know, it’s just kind of relieving? To not need to hide? Like don’t get me wrong, my parents are still kinda weird about it. I still don’t really use any of my powers at home because I just don’t think I’m ready. But the other day I used intangibility to get a cup out of the cabinet instead of just opening the cabinet door, and my mom didn’t even say anything. I remember back when I first got my powers and I couldn't figure out how to work them. I spent so long trying to hide any weirdness, and to think that now I can just do stuff and nobody cares.” A blissful smile dressed Danny’s lips. “It’s just nice, is all.”

“I bet,” Sarah said. “Must be a huge weight off your shoulders. And your sister’s okay with it?”

“Oh yeah. My sister actually already knew about it.”

“You’re kidding. Really?”

Danny threw the stick again. “Yeah, but I already knew about that. She told me a few months ago. But she’s been really helpful at home with trying to get everyone on the same page.”

“That’s good.”

“And my dad’s already been begging to take me out to the field with him.”

“Have you taken him up on it?”

“No. Not yet.”

Sarah peered cautiously over to him. “Why not?”

“I dunno.” Danny’s eyes tracked Atlas’ triumphant return from the woods. “It just seems a bit weird still. And besides, it would be kinda odd if my parents went from trying to kill me to suddenly Phantom’s new best friend overnight. For now they’ve agreed to a public truce.”

Ah yes, the truce. That had been all over the news when the Fenton’s announced it, citing new research into ghost psychology that showed instances of benevolent ghosts. The news had rocked the city, some calling the duo crazy, while others praising them for their growth.

Even though Phantom and the Fenton couple were still in the growing pains of their new truce, no one could deny how much more smoothly ghost fights had gotten since it began. There was less property damage, less citizen’s hurt, and overall the process seemed far more professional than it ever had.

“I’ve noticed a change,” Sarah said. “I really think it’s for the best.”

“So do I. Even though it’s still kinda weird.”

“It’ll get easier, just give it time.”

Atlas dropped the stick, apparently distracted by some scent on a bush. He stopped to sniff the plant before wandering behind it, his nose glued to the ground.

“Wait, Atlas—” Danny started, watching as Atlas disappeared into the foliage.

Hearing his name, the dog leapt back onto the trail and over to Danny, who paused to scratch him behind his ear. “Good boy.”

Sarah grinned down at the duo.

Who knew a cadaver dog and a half dead kid could make such a good pair?

---

Thanks for reading!

[misteria247]

*Pats the table like bongo cat*

I've actually been thinking about this very thing cuz Leopril too has been rotting my brain excessively-

So April was the first one to fall in love. Leo on the other hand.....it took longer for him to develop feelings. It was a slow and tedious process for him, starting with him wanting to spend time with her and coming to enjoy their little Space Heroes sprees. He'd begin to looking forward to them and found himself enjoying them and April's presence. However it wasn't exactly love, love till much, much later.

Leo had started falling in love with her by obversing her and getting to know her.

Leo's entire life has been a fight for survival of sorts, from assassination attempts on his and Karai's lives to fellow Foot soldiers wanting to screw him over due to jealousy of his skills and status, to being treated as nothing more than a disposable tool by the Shredder. It's drilled into him to obverse his surroundings and the people he interacts with because one slip up could quite literally cause the death of either him or his sister. And it's by this very thing that Leo begins to notice and see April.

He notices her kindness and compassion. Notices her genuine love and respect to her second family, notices how she treats his older sister with a bit more patience and understanding than before. He notices how April's fierce and loyal and fearless, how she's willing to throw herself into the line of fire in order to protect those she deems worth it, him and Karai included. But Leo also notices how she treats him. Instead of the usual treatment of being either ignored or ridiculed or punished, she instead treats him as a person. April asks him for his opinion, asks him what he's feeling and thinking, includes him in things instead of leaving him on the sidelines to only serve as a shadow. It's surreal to him, because the only other people who have done this have been Karai and Shinigami. And now there's April treating him as his own person who has his own feelings and thoughts and desires and it makes him interested in her.

There's also the moments whenever they're in battle and Leo sees her fight, flying and slashing her bladed fan like it's an extension of herself. Moments where her intelligence shows when they're in a jam and her stubbornness that could rival even his on a good day. It's somewhere along one of these moments that Leo begins to fall in love with April O'Neil. And the twist?

He doesn't even realize he's in love with her.

But his brothers and Casey know, his sister and later reunited childhood friend know, hell even Splinter his actual father know that Leo's gone for the kind hearted yet fierce red haired psychic. It's just incredibly obvious that he feels something for her, save for him and April who are both oblivious to each other's affections. And when Leo does figure it out? It's an emotional and psychological battlefield for him. Because his entire life Leo's been told that he's nothing more than a weapon, a shield to protect the Princess of the Foot clan. He's not meant to feel or desire things, he's not meant to think. He's only meant to act and defend. That he's not worthy of praise or affection or respect, that as soon as his usefulness was used up, Leo would be disposed of in some way. And despite Karai and Shinigami's best efforts to try and tell him differently, to tell him that he's not a weapon and that he's important, those teachings and lessons stuck with him. And it leaves him so conflicted and full of confusion cuz isn't he not supposed to not want things??? So why is he wanting to be near April?? Why does he want to hold her hand and protect her and have her by his side nearly all the time???? It's an experience that leaves him reeling and reveals just how broken he really is. And it's a fact that frustrates him as well as make him loathe himself cuz what could he ever offer April if he's such a broken and brittle man????

This also goes for his own family too. Leo would feel as if he was completely unworthy of not only April's affections but of his father and brothers as well. Cuz how could a bodyguard, a cold blooded assassin be worthy of anything good that comes his way???

Some Oroku siblings time but Leopril addition:

When April had first met the elusive Shadow of the Foot clan, she'd hadn't liked him very much. Anyone who was apart of the Foot clan was bad news in April's book, they were a threat to her second family and that alone made her uneasy with them. It didn't help that she couldn't get a good read on him. The ninja clothed in black was an enigma, completely unreadable and incredibly skilled with his twin blades. He rarely spoke, only quietly struck whenever Karai needed him to. And for awhile her dislike towards the ninja stuck with her.

Until the day Mikey had came to her looking unsure for the first time that she'd known him.

It was then that a bomb had been dropped on April.

That Mikey, Raph and Donnie had an older brother who had gone missing when they were incredibly young due to the Kraang. That Splinter not only had a daughter that he grieved over, but a son as well. A son and brother that they all believed to be dead.

A brother and son who was actually alive, and who was none other than the Shadow of the Foot clan. Karai's partner in crime, and one of Shredder's most skilled warriors. A brother and son who had been raised by none other than the Shredder himself, making him an Oroku.

Afterwards April's view on the other ninja had changed quite a bit after that knowledge was given to her. And it was then she'd began to notice little things about the other teenager without his knowledge. April learned that despite his supposed loyalty to the Shredder, his true loyalties were with his older sister, Karai. She had learned his name, Leonardo Oroku, had learned that beneath his icy, deadly exterior, laid a surprisingly kind yet sad boy who shielded himself from the world in order to protect himself and Karai. And then the incident happened.

Leo and Karai's treason against Shredder and Leo's near death experience that forced the two siblings to seek shelter and safety with the Hamato clan instead. For five months April watched over the comatose turtle, had spoken to the oldest Oroku sibling, and began to have the picture of why they were the way they were be much more clearer than it was. And once Leo woke up, April made it her mission to get to know the youngest Oroku. Or rather the eldest Hamato of the turtles. At first it was difficult. Leo was always on edge, always seemed to be waiting for something to go wrong and forcing him to act. He could barely relax unless Karai was nearby, and even then he barely interacted with anyone other than her. It also didn't help that Raph, Donnie, Mikey, Splinter and Casey were also trying to get to know Leo better which just seemed to overwhelm him in the long run. Before long April began to believe that she'd never get a chance to really talk to him, until one day it'd happened.

The lair had been surprisingly calm and pleasant that day. Raph was with Mikey playing on the pinball machine while Donnie and Casey were in the lab doing who knows what. Karai was with Splinter surprisingly enough, seeming to want to get to know the rat master somewhat. April on the other hand was in the living room, going through the VHS tapes to try and find something to watch. She'd ended up coming across Space Heroes, a show she hadn't seen in years and popped it in, settling herself down on the sofa to watch it. It had been during one of the major story arcs that April had realized that she wasn't alone in the room anymore. Leo had at some point came into the room, silent as a shadow and had seemed to pause in his walking, his gaze landing on the television screen. April glanced over at him, noting the spark of curiosity in his expression. The red head couldn't help speak up at that moment:

"Do you like Space Heroes, Leo?"

The question seemed to startle the black clad turtle, his dark blue eyes snapping towards her as he registered April's presence. Leo seemed to stiffen a bit, an unreadable look in his eyes as he silently looked at her. April began to feel like she'd made a mistake in putting him in the spotlight somewhat when a voice, cracking and raspy answered her:

"I.......I've never heard of Space Heroes."

April seemed to short circuit for a moment, shock filling her at his answer, before she felt a bit of sorrow hit her as it really hit her just how fast Leo had to grow up underneath Shredder's reign. Just how much was Leo deprived of growing up in the Oroku household? Just how much time did Leo have to just be a child instead of a fierce warrior? Had he even been allowed to have those kinds of moments when he had been with Shredder? Had his only close relation to being a normal person been with Karai? April didn't know but at that moment she had made a firm decision. Patting the cushion next to in an inviting way she spoke:

"Well that won't do. Come sit with me, and I'll show you what Space Heroes is."

After a bit of hesitation on Leo's part, April and Leo spent quite some time together. Watching the old cartoon show and enjoying what it displayed. Whenever Leo had a question, April would answer it to the best of her ability, and before they realized it a few hours had passed. They were on one of the more comedic type of episodes, and one of the characters had said a cheesy line, a pun like joke that made April groan internally. However that mental groan was pulled to a screeching halt when she heard the sounds of soft, gruff chuckling coming from the teen next to her. Steel blue hues snapped towards the turtle and what they saw made April's breath catch.

Leo was laughing.

A small smile was on his usually serious face, his dark blue hues filled with mirth and twinkling slightly as he tried to suppress his amusement at the silly, corny joke. Leo at that moment was a completely different person, instead of the silent, deadly weapon that was Shredder's son, was now a normal teenager who was smiling one of the most beautiful smiles April had ever seen, looking completely relaxed at that moment. Leo smiling and looking at ease, the red head noted looked so much better on him than his usual expression and aura. The older teen couldn't help but smile along with him, her cheeks slightly warm and her chest fuzzy and light at seeing and hearing Leo being happy. A single thought ran through her head at that moment:

'This is how it should be. Leo should always be smiling, I want to keep him like this for as long as I can.'

When April had looked back at this moment sometime in the future, when everything seemed to start going to hell with the invasion and so many other things. It would be then that April realized that, that moment was the moment she'd began to fall in love with Leo. Seeing his smile and hearing his laughter, seeing that glimpse of who he was, had at the time unbeknownst to April had caused her to lose her heart to him. It had been the beginning of her journey in falling in love with Leonardo Oroku.

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Imagine Azula having a crush on you and not noticing it until Ty lee and Mai point it out to her.

Azula’s POV

“There she is, little miss i’m special because i’m not from the capital” Azula quipped as you entered the training yard and Ty lee looked up fleetingly but Mai didn’t even bother, she knew exactly who Azula was talking about. Azula was always referring to you. “She thinks she’s so special in those fire nation colonial clothes, so unique and different to the typical fire nation clothing, you can just tell she thinks she looks good in them” Azula snapped not taking her eyes off you. “I think she does look good in them” Ty lee piped up and Azula rolled her eyes “you would”. The teacher called the class to start warming up and everyone began jogging around the yard. Ty lee ran beside Azula (Mai opted out of running by feigning an untied shoelace) and it wasn’t long before Azula started commenting on what you were doing again. “Look at y/n trying so hard to run at the front...come on we have to speed up and beat her”. Ty lee frowned “it’s only a warm-up Azula”. “A warm-up we’re losing” Azula retorted “fine if you’re too lazy i’ll catch her on my own” and sped to the front of the line. Mai, having been caught tying her shoelace for 5 minutes appeared beside Ty lee suddenly “i see Azula’s preoccupied again”. Ty lee nodded “she wanted to beat y/n”. “I don’t know why she’s so jealous of her” Mai frowned “y/n’s a good bender but everyone knows Azula’s the number one bender in the academy and y/n doesn’t even seem to want to challenge her”. “I know” Ty lee nodded “I think Azula’s just paranoid, she seems to always be thinking about y/n, always wondering where she is or what she’s doing”. Mai frowned ”she does?”. Ty lee nodded “yeah she was asking me yesterday if I knew where y/n went after training and then earlier today in class she was talking about what she imagines y/n does in her spare time, she had her pegged as a painter cus she has dainty hands”. Mai’s frown grew “Azula said all that?”. Ty lee nodded “yep, she knows a lot about y/n”.  Mai paused “Azula is pretty receptive to y/n but maybe it’s not necessarily in a jealous angry way”. Ty lee frowned and Mai stopped running “what if our friend Azula is actually interested in y/n?”. Ty lee raised an eyebrow “Mai she hates y/n have you not listened to a word she’s said?” “She says she hates her but think about it! She’s always staring at her, commenting on how good she is or how good her clothes look, she’s curious about what she does and what she likes...we know Azula isn’t too good with emotions, what if she told herself what she feels is intense dislike when it’s the opposite?”. Ty lee frowned “you do make a good point, love and hate are pretty similar emotions and for someone who’s not good at recognising her own feelings....”. “...she could’ve misinterpreted them as hate when in reality Azula actually...” Mai started when a voice cut her off. “Azula what?”. Azula appeared out of breath “did you two really stand here talking the whole time? I creamed y/n in the race! It was hilarious, we were neck and neck and then at the last turn i overtook her! Her surprised envious expression was delicious! I always want her looking at me like that”. Ty lee and Mai exchanged a look and Azula frowned “what?.

1 week later

“What do you think y/n’s going to wear?” Azula asked and Ty lee shot Mai a look. Mai and Ty lee had agreed after a week of observing Azula that she did indeed like you and they should help their misguided friend recognise that. They kept putting it off but had agreed earlier in the day the next time Azula mentioned you unprompted they’d say something and she just did. There was a ball tomorrow night and Azula had numerous gowns in her room and they were all looking through them. But Azula was the only one wondering what you’d wear while looking for outfits. Ty Lee wandered closer to Mai “say something” she hissed and Mai frowned “why do I have to do it?”. “Because I came up with the idea of saying something so you have to be the one to do it”. “What are you two whispering about?” Azula called and both girls tensed “nothing”. Azula narrowed her eyes at them but carried on looking at dresses. Ty lee sighed knowing Mai could be more stubborn than her and sidled closer to Azula. “So Azula...what made you think of y/n just now?”. Azula shrugged “she loves fancy stuff like this judging from her outfit choices, did you know she never wears her hair the same way two days in a row”. “No i didn’t...i’m surprised you did” Ty lee said and held her breath. Azula paused “what does that mean?”. “Just you seem to pay a lot of attention to her, more than anyone else”. “Well yes, you have to keep an eye on potential problems to ensure they stay potential and not actual problems”. Ty lee nodded “uh-huh....and looking at what y/n wears covers that?”. Azula turned around “what are you trying to say Ty lee? Subtlety isn’t your finest quality so just spit it out”. “Well i just meant...have you considered that...maybe you...”. “You like y/n” Mai said loudly and everyone froze. “I what?” Azula asked turning to Mai. Mai didn’t look away and stared at Azula directly in the eye “I said you like y/n. That’s why you’re obsessed over every little thing she does and thinks about her so much! That’s why you say mean things about her and put her down, you’re like the little boy in the schoolyard pulling the girl’s pigtails because he likes her, you like y/n but you don’t know how to feel about that so you lash out at her but that doesn’t change the fact you like her”. Silence settled and Ty lee flinched at how tense the atmosphere was. Azula was glaring at Mai fiercely but Mai wouldn’t look away or back down. Eventually Azula scoffed and turned away “as always your judgement is flawed Mai” and carried on looking at dresses. Ty lee looked at Mai in surprise and they both frowned lost at what to do next. “If I did like her I wouldn’t be afraid to show it either” Azula commented bitterly “the very idea is ridiculous”.

The next day

Azula waited at the top of the stairs outside the party tugging at the dress she’d chosen. It wasn’t right, she didn’t like it and she felt agitated in it. Truth be told though everything had agitated her since the conversation with her friends yesterday. How dare Mai and Ty lee act like she didn’t know her own feelings, sure she wasn’t the most in touch with her emotional side but she’d know if she liked you! Wouldn’t she?

The lights changed and Azula knew that was the cue for the royal family’s entrance into the ball. She exited from her door and down the staircase a fake smile on her face until she came to stand beside Ozai, Zuko on his other side. A united strong family. Ozai made some speech and Azula was listening, until she caught Ty lee whispering to you in the crowd. Azula was furious, Ty lee knew how she felt about you, how much she hated you! Why would she be befriending you at her father’s party! Azula glared but it was too dark for Ty lee to notice or she ignored it and carried on whispering in your ear making you smile. Azula was itching to get away so she could rip Ty lee away from you the second she could.

However Ty lee seemed to sense that. When Azula was free to mingle Ty lee had vanished from your side but you were still there. Right in her eye line, it was almost impossible for her not to look at you. Azula took in what you were wearing and of course, as she predicted, you looked amazing. You dress just the right deep shade of red, just modest enough to be fitting for a royal party but also flattering enough one couldn’t help staring. Your hair again looked as perfect as it always did and Azula considered what Mai and Ty lee had said as she watched you. Azula tore her eyes away from you a light blush on her cheeks and dismissed the thoughts. She glanced around the room for something to distract her but found her eyes drawn to you yet again. You weren’t with anyone either and seemed to be watching the party contently. Azula wondered who you’d come to this with as you surely had a date and she was soon lost in trying to figure out who it could be. Azula watched you deep in thought before catching herself and cursed herself for staring at you again. “Idiot” Azula cried seizing a glass off a nearby tray, making the waiter flinch and almost drop the rest of his drinks. “Azula?” someone asked and Azula realised Mai had finally found her. “What’s wrong?” Mai asked catching on to Azula’s obvious anger and Azula glared. “Like you don’t know! You and Ty lee planted the idea in my head and it’s growing like a weed!”. Mai frowned “about y/n?”. “Well who else!” Azula snapped “you’ve made me doubt myself, now I can’t stop looking at her and noticing things about her!”. “Like what?”. “Well how nice and shiny her hair is, how radiant and clear her skin is, how toned her exposed arms are in that dress, how bright and soft her lips look! You’ve rotted my brain and I can’t stop it!”. “Azula calm down” Mai said sternly “there’s nothing wrong with you or your brain!”. “Then why can’t i stop thinking about y/n” Azula cried and Mai rolled her eye “because you like her idiot!”. Azula was so lost in thought she didn’t even react to Mai calling her an idiot. “I do....?” she frowned “this is not good, crushes are for weak people like you and Zuko”. “Ouch, but I insulted you so I’ll take that”. “You what?” Azula asked narrowing her eyes and Mai moved on quickly “nothing! So you admit you like y/n? That’s great”. “Why is it great?”. “Because now we can do something about it”. “Ow good there’s a cure?” Azula asked and Mai nodded “yes, you go ask her out”. Azula’s eyes almost popped out of her head “WHAT! I can’t do that!”. Mai rolled her eyes “yes you can, don’t be such a coward”. Azula glared “I am not a coward Mai”. “Then prove it! Y/n’s over there, go ask her out now”. Azula squared up to Mai “fine i will!”. “Great” Mai cried and Azula barged past her before heading off to find you. It was only on her way to you Azula realised what she’d sworn to do and immediately regretted it. To make things worse Ty lee had appeared by your side again and spotted Azula. “Azula” Ty lee called happily and you turned and fixed your eyes on her. Azula felt chilled, trapped in your gaze. She wanted to run and hide but how could she when Ty lee had made it so obvious? Azula cursed Ty lee and was ready for a quick greeting and escape when Azula hesitated. She’d fought armies and men twice her age and yet this was terrifying her? No! She was Azula, fire bending master and the smartest person in the whole academy...maybe the whole fire nation! She was not going to let this intimidate her. Azula reached you and looked you both confidently in the eye “Ty lee, y/n” she said matter of factly. You looked from Ty lee to her and nodded “Hi Azula”. “Hello” Azula replied and then searched for something else to say, silence settled and Ty lee jumped in “it’s a great party isn’t it Azula?”. “I suppose” she nodded. “I’m enjoying it” you agreed “but I bet you’ve been to so many by now they’re all terribly repetitive” you smiled and Azula was shocked at your receptiveness. “That is correct” she nodded “honestly I think all social events are a waste of time...” she started when she noticed Ty lee signalling her to stop talking but you didn’t seem put off by her anti-social comment. You laughed and smiled “i have to partially agree with you on that one, do you know how much firebending practice I could’ve gotten in during the time this party has taken?”. Azula smiled approvingly, she was growing fonder of you by the second. “Do you practice often y/n?” Ty lee asked and you nodded “i try to get some time in every day but it’s hard, the academy gym is always so crowded”. “You should use the private one” Azula commented and you and Ty lee froze. “I can’t afford that” you said looking down and Azula tilted her head confused, money was so irrelevant to her she forgot it was an issue for others. She supposed the fees may be too much for some people to pay and fixed her eyes on your expression. “Well if you enter with me nobody will dare make you pay” Azula replied and you looked up at her confused. “If i entered with you?”. Azula nodded “I could take you some time if you wanted...i train every day too”. Your eyes widened and their brilliant brown blinded Azula for a few seconds so she almost didn’t catch your reply. “When am i free?” she asked her cheeks warming “well how about tomorrow?”. “It’s a date” you smirked before something caught your eye “sorry my mother’s waving me over, I have to go but this was really fun, I don’t know why we haven’t spoken before” you said generally but directed it to Azula. Azula’s blush grew and she nodded “yes I do not know why either, we will have to fix that”. You grinned and looked at Azula in a way that made her heartbeat fast. “I look forward to it” you replied and Azula blushed looking down. “Well goodnight” you smiled and walked away. Azula watched you walk away and only just remembered to breathe “what did i....did that really happen?”. Ty lee grinned “yes it did! You officially have a date with y/n and you flirted too”. “I did?”. “Admittedly it was anti-social and power plays but yes you flirted Azula! Well done!”. Azula smiled softly ”I have a date with y/n!”. Now all she had to do was not mess it up...  

____

I could so imagine Azula being a gym girl and having gym dates, like she’s a buff girl with a lack of free time so she has to combine the two. Plus what would impress a date more than Azula out benching every man in that gym???

[finalyaksha]

Xiaoqing Analysis - Xiao’s “Obsession” with Keqing

Lantern Rite will be upon us soon, meaning it’s also nearing the Official Unofficial Xiaoqing Holiday Season. Happy Lantern Rite, Xiaoqing Shippers! May we be blessed with something we can squint at and interpret as additional crumbs in the same vein that “You are fierce with your blade” gave us last year.

Even though I’m forever going to associate Xiaoqing as the Lantern Rite ship, it’s still a pretty rare pairing. So, since brain rot season is here, it’s inevitable that the question will be asked: “why do you ship them?”

So, I decided to start a series that no one asked for where I essentially address questions people may have about Xiaoqing as a ship. Or just talk a little bit about it if you’re new to the pairing, curious about the dynamics, or that I can honestly just link to every time I have to explain why I’m so unhealthily obsessed with them.

Disclaimer: This is just my view of certain aspects of the ship. Even though Xiaoqing shippers share 99% of the same braincells, we still have interpretations that differ, so just because I feel this way about it, doesn’t mean all shippers do.

~~~

I decided to start with something that happens to come up every so often when talking about Xiao ships, which is Xiao’s characterization in some pairings. Apparently, it’s very popular to portray him as being “obsessed with” or “yandere” for whoever he’s being shipped with, which most people would consider a pretty big mischaracterization.

In general, I don’t really like when characters feel uncharacteristically obsessed with another character. It usually feels out of place if that’s not a major or blatant trait of the character. But I can get behind it if there’s some basis behind it.

Bluntly put, in terms of Xiaoqing, I think Xiao would absolutely become obsessed with Keqing at the start of their relationship. Almost to an unhealthy degree, if not actually just flat out unhealthy.

The way I interpret him, Xiao is an emotionally deprived, touch-starved character, who has spent 2,000 years not interacting with almost anyone. Not humans, not his fellow Adepti, no one. He has never been able to love anyone, and he’s never been loved by anyone.  That all changes when he and Keqing get together and he realizes that he is capable of achieving what he previously thought he couldn’t.

Once he is not only accepted by Keqing, but he realizes his feeling for her are reciprocated, it’s completely believable that he would reorder his entire life around Keqing. It’s mentioned in the Developer Insights that Xiao is much gentler than he shows himself to be, and I would argue his birthday letters further show him as the romantic type. I believe that Xiao has always wanted to show this side of himself, but has never had the opportunity prior to his relationship with Keqing. She is the one who showed him that he could love someone, make someone happy, and have a purpose outside of dedicating his life to the slaughter. 

Most of all, she is a mortal. And a wealthy one at that. She should honestly want nothing to do with him, and yet returns his love for her and accepts him despite him lacking wealth, his karma, and the danger he presents to her. She gives him access to her home, which becomes their home. The first place he could ever truly call home. A bed where he’s allowed to hold her and she tells him it’s the safest she’s ever felt. For him to be told that he makes someone not feel threatened, but safe, is the pinnacle of the resulting infatuation. There is every reason in the world for him to become obsessed with her, and I think it aligns with his lore in a way that isn’t out of character. I can 100% see him pining for her when she’s away at work, spending every hour waiting for her to come home. Not wanted to let go of her when she does get home. Wanting her to feel as loved and safe as she makes him feel.

The thing with Xiaoqing is, Keqing is not in support of Xiao putting her on a pedestal in such a manner. She is outright against it, knowing that it is only going to result in Xiao falling into an irreversible depression once Keqing eventually dies. On top of that, Keqing is and has always been very independent and isn’t used to the idea that she should be given as much attention as Xiao wants to. She is almost unnerved by the fact that Xiao is so fixated on her. Xiao is obviously aware of this and even more at odds with himself because he wants her to have her “me time” while also struggling to be apart from her. Xiao’s obsession is constantly combated by the very person he is so obsessed with.

So, given that Xiao would never deny the fact that his life would essentially come to an end without her (regardless of how long he lives, he would never be the same after Keqing’s death), Keqing strives to get him to find hobbies and interests outside of her, like art. To form friendships with others that he can confide in when Keqing isn’t around, like Hu Tao and Kazuha (I’ll elaborate on Kazuha specifically if anyone wants me to). She works tirelessly to find things for Xiao to find joy in so he doesn’t become a mere shell of himself after her death.

With that all said, I don’t think it’s a mischaracterization to believe that Xiao would become obsessed with Keqing considering the fact that it would essentially be an entirely new world for him in realizing that he is finally able to be gentle with and to love someone who doesn’t push him away because of his past. He would do everything in his power to maintain that relationship with her. Even at the cost of his own happiness, he would do whatever he thinks he needs to in order to keep Keqing satisfied with him.

However, Xiao is not a yandere, and would not just go around slaughtering anyone who gets near Keqing out of jealousy or a desire to keep her to himself. On the contrary, Xiao thinks he’s so worthless compared to wealthy, mortal men that lack the emotional baggage that he carries, he is more than willing to give Keqing up the second he believes someone better for her comes along. He loves her to an unhealthy degree, but believes that she deserves the person who can provide the world for her. Knowing that he could never do such a thing, he is always prepared for the day she decides to part ways with him. He would be devastated to accept it, but would do it just because of how much he loves her and wants to see her happy.

In essence, Xiao would absolutely have an unhealthy obsession with Keqing at first, but with her determination to shake him out of that, they would eventually reach some level of understanding that Keqing should not be placed on a pedestal. Nor should Xiao sacrifice his own potential happiness to constantly try to satisfy her. Xiao behaves this way as a result of 2000 years of repressed emotional connections with other people. While Keqing has always been independent and isn’t used to the hyper-obsessive attention Xiao would want to give her. Still, she also doesn’t want to push him away, as she obviously loves him back just as much. They’d eventually reach a middle ground of sorts where Keqing is able to accept when Xiao wants to do things for her out of the love he’s never been able to share with anyone. While Xiao is not quite as dependent on Keqing for his personal happiness and learns that he is allowed to have his own life, dreams, and desires that are not limited to his relationship with Keqing.

They’re both very stubborn people and have trouble accepting care from others. Part of the Xiaoqing dynamic is moving towards that acceptance and learning how to let themselves be loved and cared for just as much as they desire to show love to each other, and finding a good balance between giving and receiving.

~~

Xiaoqing Analysis

Why Xiaoqing

Genus Invokation TCG