#yes ik there is probably lore reasons

[fivehundredsporks]

love how one of the boons you can request for defeating the blight in DAO is having the entire Hinterlands being given to the Dalish, and then that is just ignored for the rest of the series

[atelieronthemoon]

do the LIs have any associates outside the chatroom? like ik Daeho has his highschool basketball teammates and Joseph has his daughter but like do they have friend groups or people they hang out with on the regular

short answer is yes!

long answer is... (lore reveal time)

the thing that everyone has in common is their loneliness, which Cupid is very aware of and the main reason why they put everyone in the same chatroom. In Day 0, Cupid said MC deserved love, and that applies to the guys also. It's a mixed bag of romantic love and platonic feelings (between the LIs).

but back to the question!! Oliver has unstable relationships; they're transactional and it feels as if you constantly have to walk eggshells around these people. One wrong move and it may ruin your reputation and connections.

Roman has always found value in work and his work has always valued Roman's performance. But outside of that, he doesn't go out of his way to form relationships with anyone.

Ivan probably has the most social life out of everyone. He has work buddies and actual friendships he goes out with for drinks. He's just missing that special someone har har har

In my personal experience, making friends in university is SUPER hard. I've inflicted poor Daeho with the same situation. Sure he's got classmate pals, but it's just not the same as meaningful friendships :( He really misses his hs basketball team even though it's his own fault for ghosting ;;

Joseph indeed has his daughter, but the rest of his family isn't in the picture. It's... complicated. Joseph is too intimidating to make friends with and he's too awkward and civil to continue a relationship. He needs someone to break his shell... wonder who that could be 👀

okay i'm done LOL

[arsene-ee]

Can we talk about how both Preston Garvey and Wyll Ravengard are pretty much the characters that get treated the worst by their respective fandom? (Also Ik I'm being incredibly Biased here because I love both of them dearly)

Cuz like both tend to be called incredibly bland and are often times just overlooked. While both of them are incredibly complex character (as complex as a bethesda character can get in Preston's case)

Preston is consitently the butt of the same boring ass Joke. "hAhA aNoThEr SeTtLeMeNt NeEdS yOuR hElP, hAhA sO FuNnY" and yes I get it the line is incredibly repetitive, but every characters' dialouge gets repetitive with time as well. The reason this line is so repetitive is that Preston is pretty much the only Questgiver for the Minutemen for a huge part of the game, while other factions like the Railroad (and I assume the BoS) have multiple characters that give you quests. Lorewise Preston being the only quest giver for the minutemen makes sense due to him being like one of the few survivors and all (and the other characters wouldn't really make sense as quest givers, well maybe sturges but he's busy hammering the walls).

Preston has so much interesting lore if you take the time to listen to him, He feels so much survivor's guilt about what happened in Quincy. HE BELIVES HE DESERVES DEATH FOR GODS SAKE.

And I'm still so upset about how he's treated by the fandom, although I do mainly blame bethesda's lazy ass writing. (Also let's not forget that X6-88 is often completely ignored)

Now to Wyll, the love of my life, my babygirl. Wyll was extremly neglected by Larian's writing with him only having about 8.5h of content according to this reddit post. which probably has a lot to do with the fact that he was rewritten very close to release. Wyll is not boring, Wyll is not bland, Larian just didn't want to do him justice compared to other characters (Cough Cough Astarion Cough Cough 12.75h of Content Cough Cough) due to the response to him in EA being low. And let's not forget that up until Patch 7 his dialouge was bugged (apparently), it shouldn't have taken this long to fix it, but Larian was probably busy Animating the 1000000th Astarion cutscene (And don't even get me started on the racist white guy). Wyll didn't even get his own outfit like the rest of the Party (well Lae'zel is wearing Typical gith armor but you rarely encounter them, I recall like 3 or 4 times you actually wearing that armor) Wyll got the basic ass Warlock outfit, and yes it might make sense if you put it as "Well Wyll doesn't have anything anymore, he probably bought or got what was quickly available" well yes but then Astarion should wear some rags or something or at least more plain clothes cuz Cazador most likely would not pay for his clothes to get fixed or get fancy clothes for him, it was just Larian neglecting Wyll again.

And just like Preston Wyll is an incredibly complex character if you take your time to get to know him. His pact causes him pain (mostly mentally n all that) it got him disowned yet he doesn't regret taking it. Wyll was a menace of a Child, almost accidentally robbing a bank, reading smut when he was too young to read such content and then during the game reciting that shit in public. He is incredibly corny and he is proud of that and he fucking fangirls over Minsc. Wyll doesn't even hate his father for disowning him (I'm not saying Wyll should hate or forgive his father, I believe their relationship is incredibly complex), he only speaks rather fondly of him. (also if I see one more person stating Wyll is a Tiefling/Modding Wyll to look like a tiefling I wyll throw hands, he is not a tiefling he is touched by the hells. Same goes for the damn bloodstone eye mod, it's not supposed to be a bloodstone bbg lies about it). Wyll has been under Mizora's close watch for 7 years of course he wants to take romance slow.

Unfortunatley in both offical art and fanwork Wyll tends to be replaced by Halsin or straight up forgotten and in the offical art he does appear in he is often just glued to Mizora (yes I get that a Warlock pact is Binding blah blah) like in the offical art book where every character's alternate design is shown, just not Wyll instead it's Mizora. And I hate it, yes someone may percieve him as bland/boring when they just put him in camp and just don't interact with him, hell if that was a reason to call a character boring I could call Astarion boring but I'm not.

I understand that "good" characters might not be everyone's cup of tea but holy fuck it sucks so much that all the characters I like are just ignored.

The main difference between Preston Garvey and Wyll is that Prestion is the butt of a lame joke and at least is somewhat acknowledged within the fandom, while Wyll just tends to fall behind (Just like X6-88). Both of them are overshadowed by other characters in the game. Preston, Wyll and X6-88 are all pocs and all of them are overshadowed by/less popular than white/white read characters. it's honestly exhausting to see, especially for Baldur's Gate 3, when I see that Larian does indeed respond to fan complains in their content ("Fixing" Tav's expressions for Abuser Astarion kisses...dark romance has ruined fandom).

There is nothing much there can be done about Preston's lazy writing since fallout 4 is pretty much ancient by now (it's like 8 years old so almost a decade). But Baldur's Gate 3 has only turned one (1) year old recently and modern games get consistently updated, it would not be hard for Larian to just add more content for the characters that have less content and make the amount of content each character has kind of equal, hell I would write them the Wyll content for fucking free.

This casual racsim in fandom spaces, whether it's intended or not, is scary to see especially with the curent rise of right wing extremism in western countries (I'm mainly talking about germany here since that's what I can talk about, actually being from such a right wing extremist state).

[starscelly]

I'm actually curious, why don't you like Jamie Benn sm ? Is it just because or is there an actual reason ?

so . there’s legit reasons but it’s like. you need Me Lore to understand why i don’t like him to That level. i’ll provide the Lore and kinda put myself on blast in the read more but as for notable things he has done:

followed c*ndace ow*ns on instagram and liked posts from her talking about keeping trans women out of sports (he has never watched women’s sports a day in his life i promise u) (iirc this was march 2021)

and play wise . just will make dirty and questionable hits (not really this year, in fairness, but like every year before this) which Makes Me Uncomfortable!

and ik like . “cel it’s hockey. all of them are conservative and weird and probably transphobic” which true!!! but if they are i would like them to be very silent about it!!! anyways . more context about why it’s sooo severe to me with him in particular 👇

you need to understand . i was a JAMIE girlie (gn). he very heavily made me a stars fan to be real . like segs queer allure brought me to them but jamie’s everything PULLED me in and made me stay.

some time stamped examples of me being insane

a friend got me his funko pop for my birthday . i put hours into drawing him

like i was in the trenches!!! ! i LOVED this man this was my hockey player of all time!!

i literally finished that drawing february 2021. a month later he’s like . transphobia be upon ye. DEVASTATING . DEVASTATING STUFF FOR ME. someone who dabbles in transgenderism!!!!

and i know . i KNOW the vast majority of players are transphobic/transmisogynists. i’m not foolish i don’t believe this is wokehl. but i personally CANT deal with KNOWING for SURE my number one favorite player is like that. i cannot it would plague my thoughts 24/7.

so i immediately pull completely away from him - thankfully not from the team, atp i’m In It i just start investing all my care points into segs and stephen johns - delete almost every photo off my phone, stop following him stop keeping up with his life etc etc bc it!!! hurts!!!!!! knowing ur favorite player openly fundamentally disagrees with everything you are!!!!

that’s why the like. hatred. is so intense from me with him in particular because like . fuck him for that and how sad that made me. like idk my relationship with other players like that is kinda. whatever. like idrc about them. but bc he was my favorite dude ever it’s like . i’m never gonna be able to go back to liking him in any capacity.

ik its Dramatique but it’s also like . my life and my choice so 😭 wtv

[doubleboneswithdoctorskelebone]

so any locked tomb reader out there knows how much alecto is called annabel lee which is a poem by edgar allen poe (stating the obvious ik) and here’s my very surface level analysis of the poem in regards to her:

It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.

So it seems like this could be taken in that the many a year ago is pre resurrection with alecto living in earth (the kingdom by the sea) and im definitely interpreting this from john’s perspective so to love and be loved by him definitely lines up

I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

Coveted her and me.

Them both being children could be taken as talking about pre tomb era for her, the love line is obvious, one flesh one end and all that, and the winged seraphs can be taken as representing the lyctors

And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsmen came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.

Not totally sure what the chilling line means (i haven’t reread all of harrow and nona yet so idk the specifics of the lore too well) but the last four lines definitely represent getting shut in the tomb which would switch the kingdom by the sea to the ninth rather than earth/the first which is interesting also sepulchre almost directly means the tomb so 👍

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

Went envying her and me—

Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

The lyctors aren’t happy anymore, the envying could also reference perfect vs imperfect lyctorhood, which again references her chilling and being killed which is the process of getting shut in the tomb

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we—

Of many far wiser than we—

And neither the angels in Heaven above

Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

one flesh one end again, talks about how neither the lyctors (angels) nor resurrection beasts i think (demons down under the sea) or it could be the river/people in it, soul permeability stuff and how they’re perfect lyctors that can’t be pulled apart

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea—

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

not sure about the first bit but i assume it’s talking about him always feeling her presence, also bright eyes! because of her gold ones, in her sepulchre (tomb) by the sea so we’ve definitely switched from the kingdom of tomb by the sea meaning earth to the ninth and then her tomb by the sea which is pretty clear

i’m probably pulling a lot of this out of my ass but i had fun analyzing this in the lens of tlt and feel free to repost or reply and add on to what i said

[arcadian-litterateur]

there's many different ways to kill the one you love | newt x oc

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

summary: when thomas finds a picture of a blonde girl above newt's bed, alby tells him the story of frankie, the first glader—and the first glader to die.

wc: 9.4k bc I tried to fit so much backstory and trauma in I'm so sorry

warnings: self-harm, suicidal thoughts, suicide, panic attacks, nightmares, blood, newt and frankie make out at one point but there's nothing explicit bc they're literal children

a/n: this is a heavy one, be warned. also ik that technically there is a male frankie in tmr but ignore that bc i love the name frankie for a girl and rosalind franklin was a queen. btw, this fic follows movie lore-where thirty boys didn't come up all at once. also, thomas is there for longer before teresa comes up and everything goes down. newt and frankie are fourteen. alby is seventeen.

frankie is played by emily skinner

𝗡𝗘𝗪𝗧 𝗛𝗔𝗗 been given the job of befriending Greenies a long time ago, and that meant he was friends with just about everyone. But being friends with people didn't necessarily mean opening up to them. Newt didn't like talking about his feelings. Even Alby, who'd spent more time with Newt than was probably good for him, couldn't always figure the boy out. He tried, and often he succeeded to some extent, but even he couldn't force Newt to process his trauma—which is what he needed to do. Alby simply held out hope that Newt would open up to a Greenie one day. And hopefully not terrify them while still doing the emotional processing he needed to. And soon, because Newt was starting to get lost in his head again; Alby could tell, and the last time it had gotten bad, Newt had ended up with a limp. Alby couldn't afford something worse.

When Thomas came up in the box, Newt took an immediate shine to him. He was funny and stupid and needed a voice of reason. Newt figured he was pretty good at that so he gladly stepped into that role. What he wasn't prepared for was the amount of questions that poured from Thomas's mouth. And they weren't "normal" Greenie questions either—they were invasive and private and prying. Newt didn't like it. He also didn't answer. But he knew Thomas was wearing him down—and he knew he was going to snap at the boy soon.

A week after Thomas arrived, he met Newt by his cot, ready to do his trial in the Garden. He saw a small, grainy photo of a petite blonde girl sitting in front of what looked like a makeshift Med-jack hut. She looked incredibly frail and had dark bags under her eyes, but these observations paled when Thomas saw the bright, beautiful smile on the girl's face. The photo was taped to the wall above Newt's cot, but the corners were worn, as if it had also been kept in a pocket for a period of time.

"Who is that girl?" Thomas asked Newt, who was grabbing his water jug out from under his cot. Newt looked to where Thomas was pointing and almost instantly recoiled slightly.

"That's Frankie," he mumbled, not meeting Thomas's eyes.

Thomas's brow furrowed. "But I thought you guys said there aren't any girls in the Glade."

Newt fixed his gaze pointedly on the brunet, "There aren't." Then, obviously unwilling to say anymore, he briskly walked out.

Thomas inched closer to the photo. Yes, the girl was definitely in the Glade, and he could see the Maze walls towering above the hut that the girl—Frankie, Newt had called her—was leaning on.

Thomas reached a hand up to examine the picture more closely when he heard, "Shank, don't touch things that aren't yours!" Thomas whirled around and saw Gally glaring at him. "Newt has been through enough, don't take his klunk."

"I-I wasn't!" Thomas protested.

"Yeah?" Gally scoffed, "It sure looked like it."

"I just want to know who Frankie is!" Thomas explained.

He saw something change in the other boy's eyes, who gruffly replied, "Go ask Alby if you want to know about Frankie." Then the sandy-haired boy turned on his heel and left, calling over his shoulder, "And keep your hands to yourself, shank!"

Thomas knew he should join Newt in the Garden by now. He was risking time in the Slammer now, but his curiosity got the better of him. He was just too intrigued by the picture of the girl and Newt and Gally's cryptic reactions. So instead of reporting to the Garden, he went and found Alby, who was on his way back to the Homestead after meeting with the Keeper of the Bricknicks about supply needs. "Hey, Alby!" the brunet called out.

The chocolate-skinned man paused and turned to Thomas. "You realize you're supposed to be with the Track-hoes this morning, right?" he asked.

"Yes," Thomas replied,"but I really need to ask you about something, because no one else will talk to me."

Alby sighed, looking at his watch. "Okay, ask away, but you gotta walk with me."

Thomas fell in step with the leader of the Glade and asked, "Who is Frankie, and why is there a picture of her over Newt's bed?"

Alby stopped dead in his tracks and swore, "Well, shuck, kid. Is that why Newt looked so sad?"

Thomas shrugged, "Maybe? I'm confused, though."

Alby ignored Thomas's explanation and turned to Chuck, instructing the curly-haired boy, "Go make sure Newt took his meds this morning, and tell Luke to keep an eye on him. I want to catch any possible situations while they're still manageable. Make sure Luke always sends someone with Newt if he leaves his sight." Chuck nodded and raced towards the Garden, leaving a stressed-out Alby and an even more confused Thomas outside the Homestead.

"Did I do something?" the brunet inquired, visibly lost.

"Maybe," Alby replied, which was not the answer Thomas wanted. "But you didn't mean to. The Greenies never do." At this, the dark-skinned male turned to the younger boy and chuckled, "Do you want some explanation now?"

"Yes," Thomas begged, "please."

"Then come on," Alby motioned towards his room, which was set apart from the rest. "We can talk here. It's a long story and I don't want to be interrupted." Thomas and Alby settled onto the floor, the former looking expectantly at the latter. With a deep breath, Alby started talking.

_______________________________

𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬 𝗚𝗟𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥 is told upon arrival that Alby was the first boy to come up in the Box. This is true. Every Glader assumes that this means Alby was the first Glader. This is not true. And it's not a secret—not really, but every Glader knows that you don't talk about the first Glader. No one but Alby tells the story, and no one bothers Newt about it. It's an unspoken rule in the Glade, one that gets slowly absorbed by all Gladers.

The first Glader was named Frankie.

It was dark, but Frankie could see a few specks of light floating through holes in whatever contraption she was trapped in. Whatever it was, the teenage girl could tell it was hurtling upwards by the G-forces pressing her back into the sharp wooden corner of some sort of crate. Her eyes had adjusted slightly, and she could tell now that she was in some sort of cage—a metal box filled with crates, barrels, and…her. She scanned the crates, unable to tell what they could contain, her mind only registering several letters on the side of one of the crates: ‘W.C.K.D.’ But Frankie didn't have much time to take this in before—SLAM!

As the Box (as she'd named it in her head) reached its final destination (she assumed), it jolted, sending her flying backwards into one of the crates. Frankie could feel a jagged edge get caught on the tender skin of her scalp, and when she touched her hand to the wound, it was sticky with blood. With a hiss, she pressed the heel of her palm to the tender spot, gritting her teeth against the sting. On wobbly legs, the blonde stood, steadying herself on a crate. There was sunlight streaming through the lid of the Box, and Frankie tentatively pushed on it. It moved slightly, so Frankie quickly climbed onto a crate, the added height giving her enough momentum to push the lid up and over, effectively freeing her.

But the teenage girl didn't climb out of her cage. Instead, she slumped to its floor as the adrenaline from waking up like this wore off. And as Frankie tried to force breaths into her lungs, a new kind of panic overwhelmed her, because a new fact was becoming apparent—she couldn't remember anything. She had no recollection of why she was here, how'd she'd gotten here, where here even was—and she had no memory of where she'd been before this metal box. The only thing she could remember was her name (Frankie), which she'd recalled when her head had collided with the crate.

Taking a tentative step into the sunlight, Frankie shielded her eyes from its intense rays, surveying what could only be described as a Glade. The air smelled of campfire smoke and fresh, new earth. The Glade was mostly just wide open grass, but there was a cluster of small trees on one side, and a small hut on the other. Surrounding the Glade were four large, stone walls. One had a large gap in it. Frankie squinted, noticing the odd passages branching out from the gap, and it suddenly dawned on her—she was in the middle of a fucking maze.

Frankie had been placed here on purpose.

The only sign that anyone else might live in the Glade was the tiny hut, and so, hoping for any clues as to why she was here, Frankie raced towards it. But she was met with bitter disappointment, because it was completely bare. She realized, anxiety rising, that it was a shell. It was waiting for her. Frankie thought back to the crates she'd ridden up with. They were filled with everything needed to homestead—she'd checked before she'd come to the hut.

Whoever had sent Frankie here was watching, and they wanted her to build a homestead. Build a life here. Frankie ran outside, looked up at the sky, and screeched, “Fuck you!” Then she collapsed to the ground in a heap of sobs.

Once Frankie had regained a bit of functionality, she decided to keep track of the days, so as to keep a sense of the passage of time. By the end of the first day, Frankie had taken everything out of the Box, which was good, because the next morning, it had gone back to wherever it came from. On the third day, Frankie had moved most of the essentials into the Hut. She stacked all food-related items in one area, all clothing and toiletries in another, and had set up a nice makeshift bed in the corner. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Frankie wasn't a gardener or a scavenger, and she couldn't cook well either, so she hoped the foodstuffs in the crates would last long enough for her to learn those skills through trial and error. She still couldn't figure out why she was in the Glade, or what its Creators could want from her, but the girl could at least try her hand at surviving. She reasoned that someone or something was bound to happen eventually.

At the start of her second week, Frankie, who'd been living off of tally marks, canned fruit, and jerky, started feeling the effects of her gradual loss of hope. Upon arriving in the Glade, the blonde had noticed thin, red scars on her arms in neat, precise rows, and had easily deduced that something in her ‘before’ had caused her to carve those lines into her arms herself. She also reasoned that if she'd fallen into that depression then, she could easily fall into it again. And the longer she went in this Glade alone, with the horrid Maze that shifted in the night and creepy sounds of some kind of creature, the more she felt her mind slipping into a very serious depressed state.

The word ‘hope’ wasn't in her vocabulary anymore.

Frankie’s sixteenth and seventeenth day in the Maze consisted of eating the last of the foodstuffs, wandering aimlessly in the small patch of trees and letting tears trickle down her pale, sunken-in cheeks. She was underfed, overwhelmed, and utterly alone. It had been over two weeks since she'd come up in the Box, and she was still in solitude (not counting the creepy-sounding Maze monsters). She still had no clues as to her real location, her purpose, or her captors. Her situation seemed bleak, and under even darker lenses of examination, (like her handy-dandy depression lens), there seemed to be no way forward.

Frankie decided that if some kind of help hadn't appeared at the one month mark, she would take matters into her own hands. Kill herself.

As the days went by, Frankie became increasingly convinced that the Creators of this place wanted her to venture inside the dark, deadly walls of the Maze.

“Well, I won't do it!” the teenage girl screamed at the sky. “I won't explore your fucking Maze!” Of course, there was no answer, but that didn't weaken her resolve. Frankie was determined to never step foot in the Maze. She was also ignoring just how necessary planting seeds and trying to start a life would be if she wanted to survive. After all, she wasn't really trying to survive. She was already giving up. There was no motivation in her to keep going.

The blonde pondered this, wondering if it made her weak. She was sure, after all, that most people would have the instinct to build a life; a livelihood. Most people would try to get out, or start a garden, or send for help. If anyone else was in her situation, they'd put on an exciting show for whoever was watching. But not Frankie. See, whoever had put her here had made a seemingly grave mistake—they'd placed a girl with an untrustworthy mind in an unfamiliar place and then expected her to try.

Even if logically, she knew what she should do, her fucked-up brain was still going to win every time. She would still sit there, unmotivated and depressed. She would tally the days…and then pass them by staring blankly at the Walls. And if nothing changed by the time one month passed, she would end it. She refused to wait here forever.

At sunrise on the first day of the new month, Frankie put one more tally mark on her makeshift calendar, laid down on her bed, and slit her pale wrists. Fire licked at the cuts, burning her arms before consuming her. After several moments of extreme pain and spots overwhelming her vision, Frankie's eyes shut and it all went black.

She didn't expect—or want—to wake up, but after some unknown passage of time, she did, her eyes unwillingly flickering open as a shuffling sound moved from her left side to her right. When a warm hand gently turned her right wrist so her palm was facing up, her breath caught in her throat and she jumped, her eyes flying open.

“Woah, there, tiger!” Frankie stared at the dark-skinned boy who was holding her wrist. His expression was one of relief and amusement, but she could also see a tinge of worry in his eyes. She glanced down to where he gently held her wrist and observed the heavy bandaging that mirrored her other wrist. This boy must have nursed her back to health.

“You weren't supposed to save me,” she informed him, her voice barely above a whisper and raspy from lack of use. She used his (quite muscular) arm as support to sit up slowly. Scanning what she could now see was the Hut, she noticed that the boy had taken the liberty of moving her belongings to one space and filling the rest of the Hut with medical supplies. “You redecorated,” she commented.

“This building was in the perfect spot to make it a Med-hut,” her companion answered. Then he grinned, “I'm Alby, by the way.” Frankie nodded once, noticing he'd added to her makeshift calendar. He'd been there almost a week and a half, then.

“I'm—”

“Frankie. I know. You told me.”

The blonde girl looked at Alby in surprise, “I don't remember that.”

“You wouldn't,” Alby chuckled, “you were drifting in and out of consciousness for the first few hours after I found you. When I walked into the Hut and saw you, I thought you were dead, but you opened your eyes and giggled, ‘Hi, I'm Frankie. Welcome to the fucking Glade.’ Then you promptly blacked out again. That's when I started grabbing medical supplies from the Box to stop you from bleeding out.”

“I'm surprised you succeeded,” Frankie chuckled dryly.

“You'd only made the cuts thirty minutes or so before I found you, from what I could tell,” Alby reasoned, “so you were lucky, I guess.” Frankie looked down at her wrists, moving them in circles to test their mobility. They both stung like hell, but the right one could move fine, while the left one hurt too much to even twist slightly. She hissed in pain, rubbing the tender joint.

“You narrowly missed an artery on that one,” Alby told her.

“Wish I hadn’t,” she retorted, “then I wouldn’t still be in this Glade.”

“Hey, I’ve made this place a bit more liveable,” Alby teased. “I’ve built a makeshift Homestead and started a Garden.”

Frankie raised an eyebrow, “You did that in a week and a half while caring for me?”

The boy shrugged. “What can I say? I must have been good at architecture before this.”

Frankie laughed, “Maybe. I think I was just good at overthinking.” Alby nodded, reaching to undo Frankie’s bandages. She let him change them, trying not to grimace as she took in the gross, jagged cuts on both wrists. They were mottled with bruises and half-formed scabs on the shallow parts. The left wrist still had a large section of skin that was hanging open, blood trickling slowly from it. As Alby dabbed at the cuts, he frowned.

“The right side is healing nice,” he commented, rebandaging that wrist before turning to her left, “but this cut keeps reopening. I’m worried it will become infected.” Grabbing a bottle of alcohol, he warned Frankie, “This is going to hurt.” With that, he poured an ample amount of the liquid onto her wound. She let out a shriek.

“You could’ve counted to three, you heartless fucker!”

Frankie’s insults fell on unfazed ears as the receiver wrapped the throbbing cut, “You should be okay for the next couple days.”

Walking around the Glade was a bit of a challenge for Frankie, but with a heap of Alby’s cooking on her plate and his arm to lean on, she made it around the whole walled enclosure. Her legs were very wobbly, but she was glad to be out of bed and away from the reminders of her failed suicide attempt. Alby had warned her that she wasn’t going to let her out of his sight, because he wasn’t going to let her die. She just rolled her eyes.

“There’s no hope for us. We’re just some kind of exhibit in a godforsaken horror zoo. We’ll be better off dead.” But secretly, she was thinking that Alby, with his two room Homestead, half-built Kitchen, and small garden bed, might actually be able to give her hope. Neither teen had set foot in the Maze; it was too soon and Alby had been busy building the foundation for this little ‘civilization,’ as he was trying to convince Frankie to call it. But maybe they could survive here. At least until someone from their befores realized they were gone.

Over the next few weeks, Alby made good progress on the buildings, completing the Kitchen and outfitting the Homestead with furnishings. Alby and Frankie each had a room in its two room structure, and Frankie had moved her belongings from the Medhut to the Homestead. It was a meager pile of belongings, just some extra clothes, a journal and pen, feminine projects, and of all things, a disposable camera.

Alby had given it to her in exchange for promising to try and stay alive.

Frankie was still a less-than-decent gardener, but her wrists still weren’t healing right, so she couldn’t truly build. She could almost garden…as long as she was careful. So she did her best to take care of their food source, letting him handle the struggle of actually cooking. He wouldn’t let her near fire, just in case it might tempt her to harm herself. She appreciated the concern, but knew deep down that if she truly wanted to die, she’d find a much more efficient method than burning herself to death.

And the longer her cuts went without fully healing, the more worried she became that she was going to leave Alby alone here whether she liked it or not. She obviously couldn’t remember anyone besides the teenage boy, but she still got the feeling that he was a kinder person than most she’d known in her before, whatever that was. And the fact that he spent time nursing her back to health even though he had no obligation to? It was sweet. Very sweet. She didn’t want to abandon him to live in the Glade alone.

With Alby here to help her, the voice of depression in her head quieted.

The two teens decided that if the Box brought another teen up at the month-mark, it would be safe to assume that a new teenager would come every month. After all, the Glade seemed too vast for two inhabitants; like it was supposed to be filled with more people, and Alby and Frankie had agreed to ignore the implications of no teenagers in the Box. The implications of what that meant the Creators of this hellhole wanted them to do. They couldn’t decipher their exact ages, but it was clear that Alby was around seventeen, while Frankie was closer to fourteen.

At the very least, it was clear that Frankie was quite a bit younger than Alby.

To their relief, on the day that marked the month, the Box came up loaded with crates, barrels, and a scared, shaking teenage boy. He had dirty blond hair and bright, doe eyes, his arms and legs stick-thin as he huddled in a corner of the Box. He looked to be about Frankie’s age, and he looked terrified.

“I’m Frankie,” the teenage girl smiled, trying to look reassuring as she offered a hand to the boy. This was a mistake, though, because as she pulled him up, the fragilely repaired skin of her left wrist tore right back open, blood immediately gushing out of her arm and onto the boy’s startled face.

Her vision immediately blurring, Frankie leaned against the Box, the sudden blood loss going to her legs. She felt herself losing consciousness, arms flailing to find any support as she fell. In true Frankie manner, she swore as she tumbled down, but in her semi-conscious state, her speech slurred, and so the last word out of her mouth was, “Shuck!”

Then she passed out.

_______________________________

𝗡𝗘𝗪𝗧 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗 tell he was green.

He’d already thrown up once, yellow stomach acid mixed with blood, (though he couldn’t tell if it was Frankie’s or his own, because he was pretty sure he’d bitten his tongue). But looking at the cuts on Frankie’s wrists, half-healed and probably infected, he felt incredibly squeamish. Alby had explained the story to him—Frankie’s lonely first month in the Glade, her suicide attempt, Alby’s care as he tried to save her, and the life they’d built from there.

Newt thought that his new reality might be partially responsible for his nausea, too.

He’d washed the blood from his face and changed into the clothes sent up with him, Alby directing him to set up a cot in his room.

“We didn’t know if anyone else would be coming up, so I just built two rooms. I figure we can just squeeze in until they’re full and then build on once we run out of room,” the older boy had explained. Newt felt too numb to do anything but nod. Now he simply sat near Frankie, who was lying on a cot in the Medhut, barely conscious. She didn’t seem to have the energy to do anything but groan in pain as Alby set to work sewing her wound back up.

As he tied off the thread, a concerned look in his eyes, Alby patted the top of Frankie’s head, “I’m sure this is the last time I’ll have to sew one of these bad boys back up.”

“You mean, ‘I hope this is the last time,’” the girl grumbled.

Alby rolled his eyes, but Newt could see the note of worry in his eyes that confirmed Frankie’s statement. “Rest up, Frankie,” he ordered, motioning for Newt to leave the Medhut with him. “Take a day off tomorrow,” Alby added, to which Frankie replied,

“Fuck you! I’m working tomorrow!” The strain in her voice, however, said otherwise.

“Frankie,” Newt hummed, shaking the blonde’s shoulder lightly, “time for breakfast.” It had been four days since he came up in the Box, and the teen felt much more comfortable around Alby and Frankie. He’d realized quickly that despite their tough exteriors, both were as cuddly as teddy bears. Alby babied Frankie like she was his little sister, which was adorable to an extent, but after one too many days of bed rest, the teenage girl had asked Newt to take a turn caring for her.

Frankie had an obsession with creating nicknames for everything in the Glade, which she wrote in detailed lists in her journal (what else was she supposed to do?)

“We can call ourselves Gladers,” she had suggested, “and if we ever have someone who wants to solely work in the Med-hut, we should call them a Med-jack, because you go in jacked-up and hope you’ll come out less jacked up!” Newt and Alby had laughed but agreed. “And the last person to come out of the Box will for the first month be a Greenie, because they’re a newbie, which means they’re green.” Then with a smirk, she’d added, “And if they’re anything like Newt, they’ll be physically green, too.”

“You bled on me!” Newt had protested.

“You ripped my arm open!” the teenage girl shot back. “And it’s too late, Greenie, I’ve already decided.”

“I like it,” Alby had nodded, laughing when he saw Newt’s scowl.

“You’re both jerks,” the sandy-haired teen mumbled.

“And you’re a little shit, but I’m still being nice,” Frankie sing-songed.

“Hey, I didn’t cuss at you!” Newt had gasped, Frankie sticking her tongue out to say,

“So?”

“So you were rude!” the boy had insisted. “You should apologize!” Frankie had glanced at Alby, who was watching with a bemused expression. She mouthed ‘Help?’ but the dark-skinned boy had just shook his head.

With a groan and dramatic eye roll, Frankie had forced out, “I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings. Do you want me to ask the Creators to send you some little boy pants? They might fit better.”

Alby had coughed, “That was a shit apology, Frankie. In fact, it was just another insult.” Then he’d sighed and admitted, “Newt has a point, as much as I hate to say it. Who knows how young W.C.K.D will deign to go? They might send up ten-year-olds. As hard as it is in a place like this, we should at least try to set a good example. We’ll come up with alternatives.”

Frankie had finally agreed after Newt reminded her of the hilarious ‘Shuck!’ she’d let out after covering him in blood, and they’d all agreed that it was a suitable alternative.

Newt smiled at the thought, returning to the present as Frankie stirred, awakened by his mention of food.

“Breakfast?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. The girl had been quite fatigued from losing so much blood during Newt’s arrival, and it was taking her quite some time to gain the energy back.

“Yup,” Newt encouraged, “and once I check your bandages, I’ll bring you some.” At this, Frankie’s eyes flew open.

“No!” Newt raised an eyebrow.

“No? What do you mean, no?”

Frankie scowled, “I want to eat with you and Alby.”

Newt chuckled. He loved her tenacity, and at first, it had made him slightly timid, but he’d adjusted quickly and picked up on the fact that it was her defense mechanism.

“I’m not sure that’s smart,” he began, not the least bit surprised when she interrupted.

“I don’t shucking care!”

With an eye roll that could envy one of Frankie’s, Newt told her, “Well, I do, because Alby and I care about your health.” He could see her trying to figure out her next argument, the gears turning in her head.

“I’d be doing the exact same thing there as I’m doing here; sitting!”

“And how would you get there?” Newt inquired. “It’s a hard walk for someone recovering from blood loss.”

Frankie huffed. “It’s only five minutes!”

“And that’s about four minutes too many for you,” Newt told her decisively. With a resigned sigh, the girl let Newt finish with her bandages. But as Newt disposed of the dirty rags, an idea lit up Frankie’s brain.

When he turned to face the blonde, Newt was surprised to hear, “You can carry me!”

“What?” Newt sputtered.

“You said I can’t walk all the way to the dining hall, so you should carry me there!” Frankie crowed with a big grin on her pale face.

“Fine,” the teenage boy said. He leaned down and easily swept her off the bed in a bridal carry. “Comfortable?” he inquired, walking towards the Kitchen.

“Yes,” Frankie smiled, her head resting organically on his shoulder. The teen boy hummed in response, sending vibrations through his chest into Frankie’s body. It was a comforting sensation, and coupled with the warmth of his body, Frankie realized that she felt oddly safe in his and Alby’s care.

For two teenage boys she’d known for a month at most, it was impressive. It was probably the whole saving-her-life thing. It earned them brownie points.

The next few days, Newt took the time to carry Frankie around. She wasn’t that heavy and she was great company. He definitely enjoyed gardening more when Frankie was there, even if she was constantly forgetting to drink enough water and take it easy. Newt got into the habit of forcing her to hydrate and take breaks, despite her constant grumbling that ‘she was perfectly healthy’ and ‘didn’t need much water.’

Newt, of course, had the upper hand in these debates, as he could always point to her still scabbed wrists and pale complexion. Eventually, as Frankie gained back enough strength to start walking to and fro as she pleased, these debates simply became an inside joke that the two had, often ending with insult battles.

Alby found it equal parts amusing and frustrating, just like the younger teens’ insistence that the small copse of trees be called the ‘Deadheads’ after Alby came out of them one day, swearing and grumbling, “One of the trees tried to kill me! It tried to take my head off!” The other teens just laughed at him, earning sharp glares from the older boy.

As the three teenagers settled into a rhythm, Alby grew accustomed to completing the day’s work with Newt and Frankie, and then retiring to the Homestead to relax while the other two went off to frolic and explore. He didn’t mind the alone time, and he was incredibly grateful that Newt and Frankie had bonded so well. Frankie still refused to view rescue as a viable possibility, but he could tell that to her, living here in the Glade forever was enough. Fostering these friendships with the boys who’d brought her back from the dead was enough for her.

Frankie may have gained her leg functionality back, but she’d gotten used to Newt ferrying her around, and so she’d jump on his back and ‘force’ him to give piggyback rides on their explorations. She knew he could easily insist she walk, and deduced that his willingness to carry her across the Glade indicated that he secretly enjoyed it as well. She always took her camera with her, snapping pictures of nature, Newt, and even the Walls, if the sunlight hit them in an interesting way. The collection of images grew, occupying the otherwise empty walls of the Homestead. Alby had to admit, it gave the Homestead a homey feel. It was comfortable here.

Frankie realized her rising feelings for Newt on one of their adventures. They were sitting by the pond, Frankie weaving grass together while Newt braided her hair.

“How’d you learn to do that?” she inquired.

Newt let out a hum. “I’ve no idea. Maybe I have a sister somewhere.” The girl smiled, checking the final product in the clear water. She let out a tiny gasp. It had been a long time since she’d felt pretty, but all of a sudden, she felt positively beautiful.

“I love it, Newt!” she squealed, throwing her arms around the boy. Her excitement caused the pair to topple over, Frankie landing on top of Newt. His hands immediately found her waist, as if to ensure she was okay. Her hands tangled in his air, and she was struck with the sudden urge to kiss the boy.

Their lips almost touched.

Frankie rolled off of Newt, clearing her throat as she mumbled, “It’s probably close to dinnertime.”

Then she quickly stood up, and before Newt could offer her a piggyback ride to the Kitchen, Frankie was half-running, half-stumbling away, all the while thinking, Shuck. I’m falling for Newt.

Newt walked behind her, forehead creased as he watched Frankie go flying back towards the center of the Glade, trying to ignore how his hands shook slightly, vibrating in time with the butterflies fluttering in his stomach. What was this weird feeling he got every time he twined his fingers through Frankie’s hair, or heard her laugh, or received a smile? Why did her presence make his skin all prickly while at the same time forming a warm glow around his heart? It seemed so silly to have such an odd reaction to the girl. He couldn’t even fathom why she could be affecting him so.

He wasn’t as confident in his emotions as Frankie was in hers.

“Alby, why does my heart speed up when I’m with Frankie?” the teen inquired one night, nervously dragging his thin fingers through the dirty blond fluff piled atop his head. It was grimy and matted, and his fingers got stuck, Newt wincing as he untangled his hair from his jagged fingernails.

Alby, who was sitting across from Newt by the firepit, looked surprised, but then chuckled. “Well, do you usually feel scared around her, or happy around her?”

Newt smiled. “Happy. But maybe a little nervous, too. She can be intimidating.” Alby nodded in agreement, a toothy, knowing grin adorning his handsome face. “So why do I feel that way?” Newt pressed, annoyed at Alby’s silent smirk.

“Oh, I think you know, Greenie,” Alby replied, letting out a small chuckle when Newt groaned.

“Alby! Give me a real answer!” The older boy just shook his head.

“You know the answer. Now figure out what your response is going to be.”

Before Newt could shoot a snappy comeback at Alby, Frankie waltzed over and plopped down next to him, chirping, “Hi, Greenie!” Newt rolled his eyes.

“You know my name, why’re you still calling me that?” Frankie grinned patronizingly,

“Oh, Newt, you’ll always be green in my heart.”

“You mean nauseous?” he grunted.

“Yup!”

Alby watched the exchange silently, watching the pair’s body language and banter as it suddenly dawned on him—Newt’s feelings were returned. These two were mutually attracted to each other—these two fourteen-year-olds in an awful, unexplainable prison, finding comfort in each other; feeling safe despite everything.

It was kind of beautiful.

Of course, the two were completely oblivious, both believing that their feelings were unrequited. Newt and Frankie simply continued to act like best friends, unable to see the flirting that was plain as day to Alby. That’s what he got for being older and wiser, he thought to himself.

But as much of the romantic tension that he did see, there was even more that he didn’t. Like all the nights that the two younger teens ended up in the same bed, for example.

It was just a normal night in the Glade, but Frankie’s mind didn’t care for peace. It liked to wreak havoc on its owner, especially while she slept (or more accurately, while she tried to). Frankie had been hopeful for a dreamless rest, but in the middle of the night, she started reliving that first lonely month. Except that in her dream, every time she woke up after slitting her wrists, she was back in the Box, starting the month over again.

Trapped here forever.

The teenage girl bolted awake, sitting up in bed as she regained her bearings. She was breathing heavily, forehead slick with sweat.

“It was just a nightmare,” she murmured, trying to convince her racing heart of this truth. She slowly eased herself back to a horizontal position again, but was out of bed wincing within seconds. She knew she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again by herself.

She hated waking Newt, but ever since he’d forced Alby to move rooms (the older boy snored), Newt had told Frankie to bug him any time. So, taking a deep breath, she padded over to his door and knocked. After a few seconds of silence, she became too anxious to linger in the dark hallway and simply entered the boy’s room.

His room was surprisingly messy—she’d expected him to be an overall organized person—but she ignored this small detail, tiptoeing around the piles of clothes and other materials on the floor. As she neared his bed, Frankie gulped, noticing that Newt was shirtless. He lay sprawled across the mattress, just boxers on his frame. This made her even more anxious to wake him, but she just took a deep breath and lightly shook the blond’s shoulder.

“Hmm?” the boy mumbled, eyes fluttering open as he looked around the dark room, disoriented.

“Hi, Newt,” Frankie peeped, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by his deep, groggy voice and mussed hair.

“Frankie?” She could hear a hint of a smile in Newt’s voice as he rubbed his eyes. “What do you need, love?” he inquired, the pet name slipping out like it always did when he was tired. Frankie would never confess to it, but she secretly loved it.

“I had a nightmare,” she admitted, heart skipping a beat when Newt immediately frowned,

“I’m sorry, Frankie.”

“Oh no, it’s okay,” she assured him hurriedly. Newt opened his mouth to argue, but before he could, Frankie blurted, “Can I stay here?”

She felt blood rush to her cheeks immediately, but Newt just said, “Of course, love.” Frankie immediately climbed beneath the blanket he’d pulled back, right into his outstretched arms. She carefully rested her head on his chest, arms wrapping around his lean torso as she listened to the steady beat of his heart. His chest rose and fell with every soft breath he took, Frankie’s cheeks red as she took in the closeness of their bodies and the rhythm of Newt’s hand rubbing her arm.

“Are you comfortable?” the girl whispered, craning her neck to get a glimpse of Newt’s comforting face.

He chuckled, “Don’t worry about me, love. Just sleep.”

The raspy tiredness in his voice made it even more attractive than it already was, and all Frankie could do was mumble, “Okay.” Then she drifted off to sleep, undisturbed by nightmares now that her knight in shining armor was holding her.

When she woke up, Frankie panicked for a second, chest restricted by something on top of it. But upon opening her eyes, the girl chuckled, finding Newt laying on his stomach between her legs, head resting on her chest, arms around her waist. Obviously, he’d shifted during the night. Frankie certainly didn’t mind; this way, she could run her hands through his soft hair. She’d noticed that he’d started washing it more often recently. It was certainly nice that the head of hair resting on her chest smelled like shea butter, not dirt and B.O.

After a few minutes of lying peacefully while Frankie played with his hair, Newt began to stir. With a large yawn, he stretched, rolling onto his back, but staying between Frankie’s legs.

“Frankie?” he mumbled, obviously not awake enough to remember why she was in his bed.

“Hey, Greenie,” the girl smirked, running a hand through Newt’s hair again. He closed his eyes in enjoyment.

“That feels good.” Frankie laughed, helping the boy sit up.

“Oh, really, Newt?” Neither teen commented on Frankie’s nightmare from the night before. Frankie felt better—Newt’s presence was enough—and Newt knew Frankie well enough that he could tell she wanted to move on. And that’s how it was the next time it happened, and the next. Newt never pressed her to talk about her dreams, and Frankie never pressed him to talk about the nightmares she knew he had, too.

The body heat of another was enough comfort for them both.

It should have been obvious to Frankie and Newt that their feelings were shared, but the two lovesick fourteen-year-olds remained blissfully unaware even after these late night cuddle sessions. It made Alby wish he had longer hair just so he could pull it out. Eventually, fed up with Newt’s insistence at denying his feelings, Alby hatched a plan.

Yes, he was desperate enough to play matchmaker.

Alby wasn’t great at whittling, but he was determined enough to create a decent, simple flute-like instrument. Coupled with a small bonfire, the stilted little flute’s music was all Alby needed to convince Frankie and Newt to dance together, the pair laughing as they twirled around, hand in hand.

“You stepped on my foot!” Frankie yelped as the two pretended to waltz, circling the fire.

“Sorry,” Newt winced, drawing the blonde girl slightly closer to his tall frame. Alby watched from a few feet away, a smile on his face as Newt and Frankie settled into a slow-dancing position, swaying gently from side to side with Newt’s arms around Frankie’s waist and her arms around his neck. Alby changed his flute’s melody to match the mood, watching the scene intently as a reality tv show host. Being as unassuming as possible, he waited for something—anything—to happen.

“Frankie, love?” Newt whispered, the girl looking up at him expectantly. “You look gorgeous in the firelight.” Frankie blushed so red that Newt could see it even at this time of night.

“Don’t be silly, Newt,” she argued. “I’m covered in sweat and grime, and I don’t own a shucking hairbrush. That cannot possibly translate to gorgeous.”

“Yes, it can,” Newt insisted, tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear. “Trust me, love; you are gorgeous.” Frankie’s eyes fluttered closed as the boy’s hand cupped her cheek, thumb stroking her soft skin.

“Thank you,” she whispered in response, Newt just humming as Alby watched the pair, practically spontaneously combusting. “Newt—” Frankie was interrupted by the loud shriek of a Griever, causing her to jump from surprise.

Newt chuckled, “We should all go to bed, shouldn’t we?” Alby wanted to protest at first, but then saw a golden opportunity.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of the fire. Newt, walk with Frankie back to the Homestead, yeah?” The younger boy quickly agreed, Frankie knowing better than to protest, as it wasn’t a judgment of her own abilities, but just Alby’s overprotective nature manifesting in an overbearing approach.

“What were you going to say before?” Newt inquired, the girl looking at him in confusion. “Before the Griever so rudely interrupted you,” he clarified, eyebrows raising slightly at the blush that flooded Frankie's face.

“Oh, that—I was just going to ask if…” she trailed off for a second, but quickly regained her resolve, “I was going to ask if you'd stay again tonight. My nightmares have been bad.” Newt’s eyes lit up immediately as he threw an arm around Frankie's shoulders.

“Of course, love.” As the two reached Frankie's room, they both went for the knob, hands colliding in a burst of sparks that caused the two teenagers to exchange sheepish looks. “Sorry,” the British boy mumbled before following Frankie into her room.

A mostly comfortable silence filled the room as the teens quickly changed into their night clothes, sleepovers a routine enough occurrence that half of Newt's clothes were in Frankie's small dresser.

Neither Newt nor Frankie could deny the slight tension in the air, however, when Newt turned around a tad too soon and caught a glimpse of Frankie's bare breast as she pulled her night shirt on, the tension became almost unbearable. He attempted to act as if it hadn't happened, but judging from the blush on her cheeks, Frankie was just as aware as he was of what he'd seen.

They came to an unspoken agreement to ignore it, clambering under Frankie's blanket together as Newt fit his body easily into the outline of the girl's, spooning her. They laid there quietly, breaths filling the room as Frankie felt Newt's exhales tickling the back of her neck. His arms were wrapped almost lazily around her waist, as if they were just supposed to be there. Frankie's eyes fluttered closed at the sensations, hyper aware of Newt's firm chest against her shoulder blades.

Shifting slightly, Frankie unintentionally rolled her hips as she adjusted her legs’ positioning, the girl's breath hitching when the small of her back brushed against Newt's pelvis.

She remembered very suddenly that he was a teenage boy.

“Newt,” she whispered, rolling over in one fluid motion so they were face to face, “gosh, Newt.” Her gaze was soft, very un-Frankie-like, her bottom lip getting caught between her teeth as she gently cupped his cheek in her hand. Stroking his cheekbone with her thumb, she wondered when she'd become so bold.

The teenage girl felt soft hands trail from her ribs to the small of her back, Newt guiding her even closer to himself so their hips were flush against each other. Frankie felt as though her entire body was blushing in one red, burning shade, her eyes squeezing shut of their own accord when Newt's hands drifted lower, resting on the girl's ass before squeezing tightly, Frankie whimpering as her hands found a new spot—tangled in the boy's hair.

“Will you kiss me, Newt?” she asked in a whisper, the boy nodding before using a hand to lift her chin. His lips closed in on hers, Frankie waiting in anticipation, but Newt didn't kiss her full on the mouth. Instead, he planted a kiss on the corner of the girl's mouth, a dissatisfied groan leaving her vocal cords.

“Newt,” she whined, a low chuckle leaving his throat before he pressed a kiss to the other corner of her mouth, followed by a soft pattern of pecks that trailed along her jaw. Finally, sensing her patience waning, his hands found their way back up to her face, pressing his lips to hers with a passion Frankie hadn't expected him to have. She eagerly answered the requests of his soft lips, letting him have access to her mouth as she closed her eyes in contentment, completely happy to let him have dominance. His tongue flicking against her own, Newt's eyes held a deep desire that Frankie was sure was mirrored in her own.

“Gosh, you're so beautiful,” the British boy murmured, leaving Frankie breathless with no words as he continued to brush his lips against hers. Then he moved to her eyelids, placing soft kisses on them as he slowly ground his hips against her own, like he didn't fully believe this was real and had to make sure Frankie was truly there. Being loved on by him. With one last peck to her nose, he pulled back and just stared at her face softly, admiring the teenage girl's ethereal beauty.

“Newt—” she mumbled through swollen lips. “What are we?”

The spell broke.

All of a sudden, Newt was rolling off of Frankie and clambering out of her bed, grasping at the dark, messy floor to find his day clothes as Frankie sat up, stunned.

“Newt—Newt?” she asked anxiously. “Newt, what are you doing?” The British boy froze momentarily, eyes locking with the blonde's, but just as quickly, he unfroze and started towards the door.

“I'm sorry, Frankie. I'm really sorry,” he muttered. “I'm so bloody sorry. I just can't.” He looked at her with a pained expression, “I can't do this.” He stumbled over his words for a second before spitting out, “I don't want this.” Then he scrambled to leave, Frankie frozen in bed, stunned.

How had it all gone downhill so fast? How had it all fallen apart so quickly that she couldn't catch it; couldn't stop the snowball?

After a few seconds of denial, Frankie, though still unable to process what had just happened, found a tear rolling down her cheek. Then another, and another, until a rainstorm was charting paths down her face to fill a sea in the bed sheets below. Frankie found herself growing angry and heartbroken all at once, unable to reason out whether Newt had meant he didn't want her or didn't want a relationship. She wanted to scream, yell, curse his stupid name and wake Alby, too, but all she had the strength to do was let out one gasping, quiet whisper.

“Fuck you, Newton.”

The next day, neither teen would tell Alby what had happened, but he had enough sense to figure out that something had gone down, and from the cold, formal way Newt and Frankie were greeting each other, it didn't take the older teenager long to deduce a basic summary of the previous night's events. Alby tried in vain to bridge the chasm that lay between Newt and Frankie now, reasoning that they were stronger together, but nothing he tried could fix the damage Newt had done to Frankie's trust.

Alby became resigned to a fate of mediating between two icy parties, but what he wasn't willing to accept was Frankie drawing back into herself again. He watched her close herself off from both boys, noticing how she dug her nails into the scars on her wrists when Newt passed, and he remembered what he'd promised her when she woke up from her attempt—he wasn't going to let her die. Not by outside causes, and not because of her own mind.

Alby knew deep down that to help Frankie, he needed to first get her out of this hellhole, and that's why he first turned to the Maze.

There was no way he'd let Frankie out of the Glade into such an unknown, likely hostile environment, so the leader of the trio recruited Newt, who'd wanted to explore the Maze all along. Frankie, of course, opposed the idea with everything in her, wanting the well-being of both boys despite Newt's earlier defenses. She still treasured them both, and so the thought of them risking their lives in the Maze scared the girl.

But they were persistent, and Frankie held no real power over them. She just wished that they'd be content in the Glade. That they'd squash this desire to explore the Maze.

The morning Alby and Newt departed the Glade to run the Maze, Frankie ignored the sun's cues and instead simply glared frostily at the boys, as if to give them one last chance to back out. But of course, they didn't. Instead, they disappeared into the Maze, ignorant of the fact that they would never see Frankie again.

At least, never alive again.

_______________________________

𝗔𝗟𝗕𝗬 𝗛𝗔𝗗 remained relatively calm during the whole story; emotionless, even, but at this last statement, his head fell into his hands, a strangled sob coming from his mouth.

“Alby—” Thomas said uncertainly, but he was interrupted as Alby's head snapped back up, an anguished, feral look in his eyes.

“She fucking killed herself, Thomas! She slit her fucking wrists, right on the scars, so fucking perfectly that it must've been so meticulously intentional.” The leader of the Glade let out another angry cry before continuing, “She collected every single photo, poem, drawing, memento…everything that had any connection to her at all…and burned it. All of it. So we'd have nothing left of her. And then she wrote a fucking note that said, ‘You shouldn't have left.’ Set it next to her. Went to the Med-hut, right where she did it the first time, and ended it. When we got back and found her, she'd already been gone for at least a few hours.”

“I'm so sorry,” Thomas whispered, voice cracking, surprised to find a few tears in his eyes for this girl he'd never met; this girl whose brain had worked against her from the very start. Alby looked at Thomas with the expression of someone so in pain they could barely breathe.

“She died alone, Greenie. She fucking died alone.” Alby shook his head, “She shouldn't have had to die alone. Everything about it was awful.” The dark-skinned boy caught Thomas's eye again, answering his unspoken question. “Newt's photo only survived her purge because it wasn't in the Glade. It was in his pocket. He was in love with her, but he was too scared to admit it. At least, until it was too late. Fucking screamed it when we found her, as if a love confession could raise her from the dead.”

Alby laughed, but it was devoid of humor. “Creators started sending up antidepressants for Newt after that. Didn't make him take ’em at first, but…well, something happened that made them necessary.”

Thomas didn't know how to process all of the emotions rolling off Alby's body, especially paired with the deja vu the whole story brought with it. So he just sat there, not moving for a few minutes before Alby stood abruptly.

“Time to get to work, Greenie. Why don't you do your job trial with the Builders today instead of the Track-hoes?” The brunet agreed numbly, staggering out of Alby's office as the tales of Frankie ran through his mind. The image of that blonde in the photograph cycled through his head over and over, her smile getting stuck in his thoughts. She looked so happy in the photograph, and it made Thomas wonder if that joy was real. If that photo was taken in a happy time.

“So did you learn your lesson about being nosy, Greenie?” A gruff voice interrupted Thomas's thoughts.

He looked up to find Gally towering over him and mumbled, “Probably not. But I did learn to be more careful about being nosy.” Gally just stared at the boy for a second before sighing.

“Good enough. Come with me and we'll start your job trial. Not that it matters, I wouldn't take you. But that's inconsequential.”

Thomas trudged behind the Builder, barely even processing his words before asking, “Is there a grave for Frankie?” Gally looked at the other boy sharply, causing him to turn red, but the taller boy finally replied,

“Yeah. First one in the Deadheads.”

“Thanks,” Thomas said quickly, glancing over at the clump of trees that housed the graveyard.

“No, you can't go see it right now,” Gally added, Thomas scowling,

“I wasn't going to ask!”

“Sure,” Gally snorted. As the two boys reached the Builders' latest project, a repair site for a Slicer hut, Gally turned to Thomas and said, “Look, I get it. You're curious. But getting fixated on Frankie will help no one. I came up after Newt, just a few days after Frankie died, and spent the month trying to mediate between Alby and Newt, who were both trying to handle the guilt by blaming each other. It was the most miserable month of my life, and once they became civil again, it was still a nightmare to be reminded of her. Once I got them to talk again, I chose to just move past it and not think of it. And that's what you need to do. We didn't know her, so it's not our business. Got it?”

Thomas was taken aback by the harshness of Gally's words, unable to tell if the tall boy felt angry or sad about his forced role as peacemaker. The 6’3” Keeper of the Builders definitely didn't seem like the peacemaking type. But then again, Thomas was learning not to judge a book by its cover.

After all he'd thought Newt was a ray of sunshine.

That evening, as Thomas knelt silently at Frankie's grave and placed a makeshift bouquet at the wooden plaque, he wondered why the Creators had sent a girl with depression up to the Glade.

Unfortunately, no one would ever know. The only answer anyone had ever received was, “WCKD is good.”

the end

[jackson-selene-andres]

Intro post

It’s Jackson! Selene, and Andrés, and I made us a tumblr blog!

Me and Andrés are literally some of the most wanted criminals how is this a good idea

Sh niñita, let’s just see how this goes

Yeah Selene

Fuck you

Ok so, I’m Jackson, you might know me better as (tbd) since that’s my “superhero name.” I’m the hero of my city, and I do superhero things, I guess. I’m 25 years old, I’m white, I’m gay, I’m autistic, I have ptsd I think, and I have sectoral heterochromia (one of my eyes is green and the other is green and brown)(it’s my left eye)(well my right, but if you’re looking at me it’s the left).

This is pretty close to what I look like

That picture-

Faceclaim, it’s not actually me

That “fAcEcLaIm” or whatever the fuck it is does you no justice. You’re way hotter than that

:3

WHY. NOT ON THE BLOG TOO. STOP FLIRTING WITH HIM!

nah

Alrighty, well I’m Selene, but you’ll probably recognize the name Creciente de la Noche, that’s my “villain” name. Or you might know La Luna better, people have started calling me that, for some unknown reason.

Probably because it rolls off the tongue better than “Crescent of the night”

You’re trying to tell me that that’s worse than just straight up being called “The Moon”

yes?

Shut the fuck up

Play nice

Fine

Anyways, I’m 16, I’m Jamaican, I’m pan, I have adhd, also ptsd, and I’m an orphan. Well Andrès adopted me so he’s my dad now. No, we are not biological related, That’d be fucked up seeing as I’m 16 and he’s only 28

Here’s something similar to what I look like

You’re prettier than that

He’s right

thank you :3

Hey, I’m Andrés, I’m a semi-retired villain who goes by (tbd). Instead of being full time I only do crime during manic episodes, which are becoming rarer now that my bipolar meds are getting better.

I’m okay with you doing crime as long as it’s only during manic episodes

thank you, mi vida

I’m going to kill myself

NO KILLING YOURSELF

Ahem, anyways, I’m 28, I’m Mexican (he’s Maya but he says Mexican most of the time to avoid being lectured on ancient civilizations), I’m gay, I’m bipolar, I probably have ptsd, I’m blind in my left eye (so if you’re looking at me it’s the one on your right) due to a scar from fighting as a villain, and I am the adopter of Selene.

Here’s kinda what I look like

YOU LOOK LIKE A GYM BRO

SHUT!

lmao

ooc

hey!!!!!!! It’s @daonedaonlyskh and these are some of my original characters from a novel idea of mine!!!!!

if you want me to talk about any of their lore, just ask! I’d love to talk about them ooc with anyone who’s interested!!!

PLEASE BRING YOUR OCS HERE TO INTERACT. IK IM VERY ACTIVE IN THE PJO RP COMMUNITY SO IF YOU WANNA BRING YOUR PJO OCS OVER HERE THATS COOL!!!!! IN FACT I ENCOURAGE IT!!!!!! OR ANY OCS!!!!! OR CANON CHARACTERS OF ANY FANDOM!!!!! IDC I JUST WANT INTERACTIONS!!!!!

I will actively be doing lots and lots of research to accurately represent my characters, since a lot of them are very different from me and anyone I’ve ever known irl. I want to make sure I portray my characters cultures, mental health, neurodivergence, and sexualities properly! If I fuck anything up, please please please tell me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

anyways this blog will probably touch on dark themes, and I will do my very best to tag any triggers, but just as an fyi, there will probably be dark themes here

ic tags:

J.A.S is here! - all three

Jackson’s here! - Jackson

It’s Selene - Selene

Hey Andrés here - Andrés

ooc tag - mod speaks

All images are from Pinterest and the dividers are from @/isisjupiter here on tumblr!

[everythingwasnormalhere]

give me as many tati headcanons as you can think of. go. /lh

-north

SRY I FORGOR

The first to meet were Karen and Firkle

Cuz yk she joined the goth kids and all,,

She left soon after though, still being their friend just not goth no more

(Well more like Firkle's friend but yk)

(Kinda henrietta's too :3 she buys Karen food sometimes)

(Anyway back on track-)

Karen had also known Ike for a while

Kenny would go to sleep at Kyle's often, bring Karen with him and all

It didn't take the kids too long to begin chatting

Stayed up too many nights watching streams :3

Tricia and Karen met when Karen began elementary school

They're the same age but Karen couldn't really afford pre-k because... yeah typical McCormick family idk man

Karen saw Tricia all alone sitting at a corner

So she approached her and they began talking

End of the day and they were besties

Karen introduced Tricia and Ike later too :)

They were a nice little group, though Tricia and Karen were the closest out of them

When karicia were in 2nd year Ike started elementary school

(he's 2 years younger but he started school early)

Firkle meanwhile was stuck in first grade because... yeah that's Firkle idk man

Ike didn't have friends in their grade, neither did it, so they became friends too

Ike joined the goth kids

In just a few months, Tricia was pissed

And she let the goths know

"Stop corrupting our computer nerd you assholes!"

Literally dragged Ike out of there 😭

Karen and Firkle meanwhile were like ":o my friend!!"

(they hadn't hung out in a long time)

They caught up and kept in contact and soon tati as we know it formed ✨✨

Now,

Ike is bi, he/him

Tricia is a lesbian, she/her

Karen is a lesbian, she/they

Firkle is... yeah Firkle. It/they though :3

Ike has dated everyone in tati at some point

He's so pissed all his girlfriends are lesbians now 😭

They joke about transing his gender lmfao

Ike is also Clyde's flavor of loser in the sense he cannot date someone for more than a month to save his life lmfao

Karicia canon :3

Tricia is half Peruvian and Karen half Paraguayan :3

Tricia knew spanish since she was a kid because they speak it a lot at home

Karen didn't, but she asked her brothers to teach her bc she's a cutie<3

Kevin and Kenny sharing a look like "yeah shes got a crush alright"

They began by teaching her the insults and slurs bc they're the stuff they know best 😭✨

ANYWAY yes tati-

Firkle is probably in the aroace spectrum tbh

And they'll keep being a goth their whole life that kid hardcore asf

Tricia plays soccer :3

Ike plays baseball (not hockey you guys trust)

Karen likes basketball but she doesn't really play

Firkle doesn't do shit lmfao just like me fr

Karen and Tricia being friends was the main reason Craig and Kenny reconnected tbh

Out of their siblings Tricia definitely has the best relationship with them

Ike loves Kyle a lot but yk... SLV Kyle. Yeah.

Karen got very pissed at Kenny at one point and... yeah SLV lore again 😭✨

Firkle is an only child lmfao it's just vibing 💯

Ike is a streamer and he collabs with Cartman sometimes :3

Cartman's community is a lot bigger than his own so he can use the promo lol

They genuinely enjoy hanging out too. Which weirds Kyle out so much 💀

The rest of tati show up in Ike's streams often too :3

cute little guys i love them so much<3

[redyrmes]

hhh designing colourzas in the year of out lord 2024 and i have sO MUCH to say about them,, spent the last few days assigning each of them a wingless + winged animal and ended up with this (also! the not underlined animals are the ones not explicitly used in their designs)

ill put my notes about them all under the cut because theres a lot but the big ones are:

- blueza and redza twin propaganda cos theyre the only hooved animals here

- grayzas winged bird is the only flightless one because i thought that would be funny, also the name is just so ominous for no reason which i also thought would be funny

-yellowza is so difficult to find animals for but i settled on peacock pansy butterfly because peacocks are fancy n stuff and hes fancy n stuff, but peacocks are purple, so the yellow bug equivalent is the best i can do for him. I have yet to decide on a winged animal for him lol..also hes sucha bug to me, ik hes canonically a bird but hes such a bug. however if he was a bird he would be a birds of paradise bird, absolutely, no questions asked

anyway heres more notes i wrote down a few days ago

bugs- |||

bats- | (rip redza hes alone)

birds- |||| (counting phil)

sidenote purplezas, redzas and bluezas animals are the only ones that dont match their colours and are neutral colours instead

—Redza is the only bat because he’s the first one who existed i think. also because his vibes match bats and nobody else matches bats but i gotta make it Lore. also he’s one of the only two hoofed+wingless animals, along with blueza, because redza blueza twin propaganda..and hes an ibex instead of anything else because i think the long, straight horns suit him better than others. there was also like. the addax, eland, oryx, ect but i decided goat > antelope because goats are smaller and more gremliny + association with the devil or somthin?? also he gets a funny little goatee

—Orangeza is a red fox bcos fox = cunning n smart idk….and that species because of its orange fur, pretty simple not given much thought but thats okay, it matches him pretty well i think. also i hc that one of his front moth wings (the brown ones, they cover the orange wings) got damaged so he patched it up with orange something because more orange and haha inventor guy fixes things you know. its okay i don’t either

-Yellowza was gonna be a longhorn beetle but they’re too orange. then a bumblebee but he’s not. he’s not a bee. but i finally settled on peacock pansy because peacocks are like. fancy n shit but he cant be a peacock because they’re purple, so yellow butterfly version is the next best thing. ALSO ik hes like canonically a bird and stuff,but MAN. HES JUST A BUG TO ME. but if he was a bird he would absolutely be a birds of paradise bird because Yes. honorable mention to the great tailed grackle.

his wingless animal was a STRUGGLE and i have yet to pick it hahaskmb….also i characterize him as a material girl instead of cheery optimist because there are enough cheery optimists 

—Blueza was the easiest to decide lmao, he’s just a deer. either that or a moose, but deer are more gentle also thats like canon so yeah..white tailed deer 🦌 oh holy shit deer emojiand redza blueza twin propaganda, he’s one of the only two hoofed wingless animals here yesyes

his winged animal had to be a bird, preferable a dove because symbolism and whatnot right? he got mourning dove because fluffy lad + theres no white doves in the wild so i cant make him a white dove. probably going to draw him with whiter wings though to match his colour pallet haha, i dunno i haven’t really given him much thought

—it was so difficult to decide if Purpleza was a bird or a bug but i ended up with bird, because he’s a fluffy guy not a bug guy? and then choosing a bird was pain because theres so many pretty purple birds i really like but he’s more of a black bird, emo ass mfer

couldn’t make him a crow, raven felt off, considered grackles bcos they have purple wing shine whatever its called but they’re too social skdhdkfgngcn..solitary caciques had a good chance because they’re black birds that are very antisocial, literally purpleza. BUT I eventually decided on purple honeycreeper because they’re dark purple with black wings, and hang out in small groups with other species of birds, i think that speaks for itself.

and cat because cat

-might change the wingless animal of Pinkza idk axolotl feels too easy? but the only other guys i have are like. naked mole rat and pink dolphin and i cant implement those in a way that makes sense in my head LOL

and he’s a butterfly right, the pink rose butterfly really suits him i think but not his light color pallet. the other pink butterflies don’t suit him really, and the pink moths all have yellow which no. but then i found the pink orchid mantis. who is so soft and gentle looking, but uses its soft and pretty appearance to kill. so yknow the second i saw it i was like yup. pinkza

—Grayza (greyza?? i forgot sob) is the only flightless colorza, i thought it would be funny cos he’s this eldritch horror but he’s the only land bound one haha, also ayem cemani is death omen chicken in my head. and for his flightless animal, he’s a snake he’s very much a snake what do you want from me he’s just a snake

anmd i don’t want to think about whiteza until im done with these dont make me think about whiteza

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

TBB S2 EP 11: Metamorphosis

right from the get go already looks like cliché horror film intro (this initially made me dislike the ep, mainly bc we have too many bad horror films playing at the cinema where I work rn, but dw I came around)

the music was actually chillingly different than usually and continued into the scene in which Dr. Hamlock was introduced. I liked that, but in a bad way

the closeup on his hand confirms that the Zillo Beast ate it, no this is not up for discussion, Zillo Beast had himself a treat

I'm kinda coming around on Nala Se, ngl

Also for as uneasy Dr. Hamlock makes me, I feel like we're finally getting a high-quality villain on TBB and I'm here for it

BAD BATCH TELLING CID OFF BAD BATCH TELLING CID OFF BAD BATCH TELLING CID OFF

HUNTER WANTING TO CUT CID OFF HUNTER WANTING TO CUT CID OFF HUNTER WANTING TO CUT CID OFF

Cid, being a huge dick:

Me:🤨🤨🖕🖕🖕

I like watching Wrecker show off how smart he is. He knows all the weapons and how to use 'em. Yes. :D.

"Whatever did this wasn't human." <- I find that an interesting sentence, considering this is Star Wars. If this was a show that took place on earth, somewhere where it was unlikely for an animal to be, that line would've been chilling. In Star Wars? Not so much. Humans are only one of many species in that galaxy and while I do believe that clones = humans, via star wars lore, that doesn't apply. Clones are classified as their own species, meaning technically they aren't human. I'm probably over thinking this but whatever, the line struck me as oddly placed

"By yourself?" "Your concern is not warranted. I will be fine." <- ok, Tech ik you got the whole cool, logical, I-know-what-I'm-doing-vibe going on, but I gotta tell you, the person who says that in horror films dies first.

OFC THE MEDICAL EQUIPMENT IS KAMINOAN FCK

everytime tech checked what's going on in the hallway I yelled "nO" at him. and then he did it anyway. rude.

The second we first saw it I realised it was the Zillo. I've been wondering when/if it would ever come up again, since the Chancellor did order for it to be cloned when the og episodes aired and then we never saw it again, so the arc felt incomplete.

BUT I LOVED THE ZILLO BEAST ARC SO THIS MADE ME V HAPPY AND V SCARED AND I KNOW IT'S NOT CANON BUT CAN THE ZILLO BEAST PLS GO EAT PALPATINE NOW??? IT DESERVES A TREAT!!!!

Hunter grabbing Omega to protect her from the beast 🥺

Tech's slow "Fascinating." followed by his "Take cover."???? sir u already had me, u didn't need to go harder

Wrecker grabbing Omega to protect her from the explosion🥺

Tech casually causing the explosion

"It ate the crew?" MY POOR BABY

"I can help. I know my way around Kaminoan tech." hmmm omega tryna stay out of the fight? she scared? hmmm Tech whatcha do???

Omega being better with Kaminoan tech than Tech and him just going with it and trusting her expertise. Yes. :D

idk where the "Zillo Beast feeds on energy" thing came from bc that wasn't part of the original arc and kinda threw me off, but alright, they needed a reason for it to grow real fast, I'll take it

they're already fighting the beast and then the empire shows up hhhhhhhh whyyyyyyy

omega just casually pulling the plug on tech's research, I love her

Tech grabbing Omega to protect her from the explosion 2.0 🥺

yes, hello, I'd like to inform you all again that I hate the empire, thank you

Tech allowing Hunter to keep flying even though he is the designated pilot and clearly very skilled. Just shows how much he trusts his leader and brother to keep them save. Love that :))

When the Commandos began rounding up the villagers I immediately knew what it meant and GAH HONSLTY WHY ARE THEY LIKE THIS

The Empire only destroyed Kamino to control cloning, not to end it, hm? surprise surprise (these fcking motherfckers i swear)

"Send the data to Echo and Rex. See what they can find out."

....

........

............

YES HUNTER YES SEND THEM THE DATA YES GO WORK WITH ECHO AND REX AND SAVE THE GALAXY YES LET'S GOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

end of the ep confirms yet again that Dr. Hamlock is a bag of dicks :)

Prime Minister said f you and I'm here for it

and then he brought up Omega and I was not here for it anymore

finally the music during the last shot makes me think that this facility is going to come up again and it will likely be very traumatic and horrible and terrible and um ya. sucks man.

gonna tag @jealous-sloth77 and @saturn-sends-hugs bc I'd love to see their thoughts too :))

[elizakai]

More IDOL AU thoughts.

Oops :) I just um, ok.

I’m a spitballer, analyst, conceptualizer, visionary 😞✨whatever the heck. i get so many ideas and have to entertain SOME of those ideas. Legitimate ones and illegitimate ones… this is just for fun don’t take me to seriously.🫠

⬇️ CHAOS BELOW ⬇️

Uh oh. You looked. What have you done.

Anyways.

There’s a level of intrigue when it comes to the twins (ik, Ik, again.)

BUT THINK about it. If we are assuming that this au tones down some of the more, erm. Mystical elements of these characters. (Like, being basically gods and such) (also it can’t be said yet how far this goes! Does error still have glitches? Is nightmare corrupted? Does ink have a soul? Do the twins sustain some sort of empathetic abilities? Is killers soul thing normal? Who knows!!!) they would have different origins!! The twins are probably the most in depth of a switch, considering their origins are the MOST bizarre💀

assuming they aren’t buddy buddy (which they could be, we won’t know till zuchiyeni spreads forth their hand into the abyss and reveals to us the flames of canon ✨) they may have had some sort of falling out…

so ahem

THOUGHTS!!

Is Nim their mother.

if an alternate version of Nim(their mother/creator in dreamtale) is, in fact, their mother, it can be assumed they have been adopted in some way :) maybe not depending on how you would view uh, monster coupling💀 but they aren’t visibly of split heritage, and she isn’t a skeleton. In Dreamtale, Nim never put the effort into KNOWING the twins. If that carried over, it could cause some really interesting dynamics. Is NIM associated with the music or entertainment industry? 👀 imagine a cold, uppity Nim. Maybe she isn’t horrible, maybe she is, but She’s got expectations, and is distant.

in this hypothetical, we could question what path the twins really wanted to live. Did they ORIGINALLY want fame? Or did they feel trapped. Did they have to learn to navigate their own way? Do both of them leave her? One? Neither? Does she die? (within this concept , again.)

if she isn’t at all associated, did the twins have dreams and aspirations of fame? Did they….at some point…have a career together??? How sad would that be.

(maybe she isn’t their mother, maybe she’s someone they contracted under. Also YES she easily might not exist in this world I’m just having fun with potential parallels 🫠👏)

NOW. MY BRAIN DEMANDS TO CONSIDER THE OTHER DREAMTALE DEITIES. I could see Quetzalcoatl and Lanny being big in the music industry, which would be INTERESTING if those two and Nim were all affiliated with that life. It would make sense for them to still have the affiliation and possibly competition?

IT ALSO OPENS AGNST OPPORTUNITY. (And you know we love angst in this fandom.)

again, in dreamtale, let’s mention Lanny. Dreamtale is unfinished so keep in mind we don’t have 100% solid characterization, but the creator HAS discussed character personality and bias, and has carried the information to the making of the story so far.

Lanny …is implied to have…had a thing for her fellow guardian, Nim. Lanny hated Nightmare for what he did, for how he ruined everything with the corruption and destroying what’s left of Nim.

but she…also resented and despised Dream. Blaming them both for what happened, and with nightmare having gone rouge, all of that pressure then falls on dream. Dream, who had lived 6 years of life out of the hundreds he was trapped in stone.

She is, not sure how yet, the reason Dream was able to break free of stone, and she went on to mentor him. Train him. But she’s portrayed as being unnecessarily harsh and disdainful towards Dream. (IF WE INCLUDE Neil, yk the cat/ father figure/friend of dream, that would be interesting cause he really cares about dream and seemingly didn’t appreciate lanny’s treatment.)

(also I realize how deranged this sounds without context, there’s WAY to much of dreamtale lore to actually explain here so if you need more context go check out dreamtale lore💀I promise I’m not bs’ing, just criminally simplifying.)

ANYWAYS this is so unorganized. Adhd brain uh—

LANNY. Imagine Dream and Nightmare split ways for whatever reason. Dream signs a contract with this Lanny person. Lanny already knows who he is ofc, and he probably is familiar with her, as she knows their mother and probably has been keeping an eye on them. It would be interesting for Lanny to be a past ( or even current idk) contractor or something to Dream. I don’t imagine he’d have a lot of freedom in that space. She would have a lot of expectation too, and is rather unsympathetic and overworking. Maybe he pulls a t-swift and manages to escape that with the stars 😌 maybe not. Probably manipulative. Gaslighting even.

She could give “caring“ aunt energy.

“wouldn’t want to disappoint them, do you? Disappoint me? LOVELY! I knew you’d understand!”

IF DREAM GOES TO LANNY. What If Nightmare goes to Quetzalcoatl?

this seems odd. But hear me out. Quetzalcoatl is implied to be the one who ends up getting Nim killed in dreamtale. It’s complicated. Anyways, if he has it out for her, and Nightmare grows to resent his mother and/ or her way of doing things, a young nightmare going to the guy who “understands him” is interesting. It would give creepy uncle energy💀 but like. It also makes sense on some level because, again, in dreamtale, the person who attacks Nim and gets her killed is a human. The human is implied to have been a creation OF Quetzalcoatl. (Guardian of the life tree) said person gets killed and perished on the roots of the feelings tree. His um….consciousness is like. Absorbed into the negative side of the tree. (I am SO sorry if you haven’t read about this.) anyways. That GUYYYYYY. Yk nightmares corruption??? YEAH, THAT’S HIM!!! The voice that manipulates nightmare isn’t ‘just negativity’, dreamtale often highlights that negativity also has positive outcomes,just as positivity has negative outcomes, and that balance is important.. it was the GUY being involved that changed things :,) . I don’t think nightmare knows this actually? ANYWAYS NOT THE POINTTTTT. what I mean is. Quetzalcoatl manipulating nightmare makes sense, as he indirectly did so in dreamtale.

he could give vibes of the “cool” creepy uncle.

“They just don’t understand people like us, do they? They never will.”

I can imagine nightmare getting older and more self sufficient and being like F that. Especially as he makes his own friend (mtt trio? 🌸) and realizes he isn’t codependent. But maybe it changed him in a lot of ways.

maybe the twins were in a normal sort of family, and dreamt of life in the spotlight. Maybe one did and one didn’t. Maybe their entire family has more drama than “just them” does, and that complicated things for them. Maybe they’ve been trapped and manipulated and naive in this world too. And they had to grow up and find their way. Maybe those situations have affected them and their worldview. And…their relationship. maybe they weren’t little kids when they fell out, but young, unknowing adults who don’t know who they are and made messy mistakes that affected more then just themselves.

maybe Nightmare can’t stand being misunderstood, and seeing people taken advantage of. Maybe Nightmare needs to be heard, and he’s learned to translate this to music and such. Maybe Nightmare has an easier time being aloof and angry towards his family because it means his own feelings are valid. He enjoys the ability to connect with a lot of people, an audience, while being distanced. He can’t be hurt. He can flip off the people who have hurt him and make his OWN way. The ability to overcome people opinions of him, to prove his own worth to himself. His voice will be heard.

Maybe he want’s to be seen.

maybe Dream desperately needs to have a mask on, he’s not allowed to express himself openly. Maybe he’s confused and can only take on blame for things that have gone wrong. Maybe he feels indebted to this industry , or people around him. Maybe he enjoys the audience as individuals but feels isolated among them, undeserving. Maybe he’s guilty of the fame. Maybe he wants close connection. But people can only see him for the perfect image he puts foreword. Get too real, and people leave.

Maybe he fears being seen.

….ANYWAYS THATS ENOUGH FOR NOW. *snips off the list of concepts here*

Idol! Au belongs to @zucchiyeni

*runs away*

[waylibee-analysis-firm]

mustang theory (ch09)

guys im being so serious rn. im so scared to post this. but bee is being wonderfully supportive (as usual <3) and i am going to be. so very Brave. this may not be coherent, but...i hope it makes some sort of sense ok. anyways here is the theory for ch09:

mike and will leave the camp dance early bc of Bad Memories and/or they would rather just be making out (which is. fair) 

(fearless lore is referenced throughout but also will be theorized/posted about separately) 

this would be proven by the references to wish you were sober by conan gray (yes ik it’s not in relation to ch09 but. this part Could Happen at the end of ch08…just saying). 

this specific theory is fueled by the weird eureka moment i had regarding this post. is this a reach? yes. do i fucking care? no.

they take mike’s car, despite will’s grumblings abt his stupid fucking mustang.

ch01 im staring. Directly at you. shut up. shut up. i hear what you’re saying and i just can’t listen right now okay. ch01 we’ll get back to you i prommy

“Also, God forbid I have to leave the grounds in Mike Wheeler’s stupid fucking Mustang more than once this summer," he adds, nearly spitting. (ch01)

need i say more.

also this would totally be building more on their trust....plus probably some references from follow the sparks that i don't know off the top of my head

also could have been foreshadowed by ch02…when will refused to get into mike’s stupid. fucking. mustang. just saying….

ch02 is also biggest fearless lore references we have that i can think of but that is for another time

“Don’t tell me you’re driving that thing,” Will scoffs, eyeing Mike’s car in trepidation, eyes sweeping along the length of the racing stripes. (ch02)

...forcing Will to declare a lesser of two evils: throwing dignity to the wind and accepting a ride in the Mustang — the undeserving bane of Will’s existence...(ch02)

CAR EMOJI !!!!

this chapter is “thea’s baby”. well thea is also the resident car expert.

im literally so funny for this sorry not sorry im cracking myself up ->

either something happens between them and they end up pulled over OR something happens to the stupid fucking mustang

THIS could be that one post thea made…which could have been totally innocent OR it could have been COMPLETELY SINISTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OUT TO GET US!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! putting on my tinfoil hat

smth happens between them...backseat driver will (mentioned in ch02) as well as the stupid. FUCKING how to drive manual that's been driving me INSANE the past couple of days (found here.)

side note: thea i love you but you are driving me Bonkers (mwah <3)

alternative to the above point is that mike pulls over to 1) make out with will (again. which is again. fair.) 2) chat with will about what they Are

option 2) would require some sort of shift in their relationship/situationship beforehand…im thinking this could mean you know that i caught it could take place BEFORE or DURING ch9… this could be the They Know motif coming to a head (meaning everybody. they Know for real this time. and now mike’s confused about it. “what are we?” talk from ch05 but times a million)

“save me ‘till the party’s over/kiss me in the seat of your rover”

^^ regarding this. i wrote all of this before i rediscovered that wish u were sober has nothing to do with ch09 (supposedly). im just too lazy to change it bear with me please.

will gets mad at mike for some reason?

if the original point made (something happens to the stupid fucking mustang) ends up happening, this could be will’s breaking point bc he’s overwhelmed and panicked and stuff is happening too fast for him

ch09 is a will pov chapter.

also frustrated crier (some ask about ch04 that i need to find to link before this gets posted)…just saying.

will gets mad at mike continued and reverts back to his I Need to Hurt You phase bc it’s safe and he doesn’t know how to handle the UNDOUBTEDLY romantic feelings n thoughts he’s having about mike…

he’s scared of getting hurt again like he was with derek and he’s scared of the unfamiliar territory that comes with being nice to mike/having mike be nice in return

This type of gentleness is certainly a facet of Will that Mike has known, having seen it more than a handful of times over the years, but it’s not quite one he’s accustomed to. (ch06)

this ^^ goes both ways i assume...there's gotta be evidence abt it in a will pov chapter but i am. exhausted.

he lashes out at mike that they aren’t anything, they’re just a casual fwb situationship, etc. 

wow would you look at that…this is paralleling the fearless lore theory…

cue "straight up" by paula abdul for mike pov (i've been a fool before/wouldn't like to get my love caught in the slammin' door/how about some information, please? // straight up now tell me/do you really want to love me forever oh, oh, oh/or am I caught in a hit-and-run?/straight up now tell me/is it gonna be you and me together oh, oh, oh/or are you just having fun?)

“Hit-and-run” CAR IMAGERY ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

"straight up" by paula abdul is on mike's driving playlist and i've been going insane about it since i saw it. btw. i love this song.

mike's unsure abt what they Are/what will is thinking so he reverts to the childish fighting thing too...pushing will's buttons is second nature for him by this point...evidence for this in a mike pov i will find later prommy

this is also wish you were sober coded “trip down the road, walking you home/you kiss me at your door/pullin’ me close, beg me ‘stay over’/but im over this roller coaster/imma crawl out of the window now/gotten good at saying ‘gotta bounce’/honestly you always let me down/and i know we’re not just hanging out”

first half here. could be about how mike is begging will for a relationship. but will is “over the rollercoaster” and the push and pull of their friendship to rivalry to fwb situation. 

second half here. will’s metaphorically leaving mike (crawling out the window). he’s “gotten good at saying ‘gotta bounce’” bc he’s done this to mike Before when they kissed when they were thirteen…i Think (fearless lore theory). “honestly you always let me down” could be a reference to. will being angry with mike for not just being happy with their fwb, even though he wants more too? “i know we’re not just hanging out” come ON this is will saying he KNOWS THEY CANT JUST BE CASUAL. HE LITERALLY SAYS THIS IN CH05 I BELIEVE. OR MIKE DOES IN CH06. THEY CAN’T BE ANYTHING BUT EACH OTHERS EVERYTHING. 

^^ literally kill me now i can't believe none of this is related. curling up into a little ball and sobbing.

this would be the beginning of the Angst that’s a 3-4 on a scale of 10 bc we know they're both idiots just miscommunicating But. hey.

so that's uh. that's the outline of the Theory we currently have...it's our most fleshed out one rn fs but there are a few Others that were referenced here that we need some more information on...

anyways. thanks for being insane with us. <3

[chiangyorange]

You ever think about how Isles added a. Checks notes. Goddess of flow. Because I think about that.

thank fuck isles canonically is not a real realm that exists

nah but fr tho i DO actually have quite a few thoughts on how isles fits in to the overall narrative of mianite being such a strange offshoot compared to s1 and s2 read more if u want, i will say that its gonna get rambly and also im going to drop a few of my design notes about the isles gods specifically if that interests you

i have been piecing together lore via friends and the mianite wiki (which is a fucking dumpster fire for anyone that's trying to look for a specifics in lore but i digress) so not everything people may care about will feature in here (like the whole light/dark thing. gandus, she shadows, w/e im just focusing on the overall story. sorry but there is only so much i can handle atm) i DO actually think that isles is really interesting despite my initial dislike for it towards the end (yes yes ik but i can admit that i was a little. too indulgent of myself at the time) ANYWAY i think isles was some sort of like... fucked up puzzle box reality???? of the s1 world because there are just SO many references to s1 like ianites heart being stolen and dianite slowly becoming more demon-like and all those theories way back when of isles really being s-1 like its a prequel of s1 world which i think its semi true?? basically my thoughts are; isles is an offshoot mimic world intended to emulate the life of the s1 gods in their youth for whatever reason, and in their timeloop is trying to create a trap? a new world? essentially perfect the mannerisms and legitimacy of a real realm like the realm of mianite and the realm of ruxomar. why tom n jordan got pulled into it interrupting the timeloop for a moment, who knows. (also in reflection? thats so fucked up and rude to karl like king is trapped in a timeloop for no goddamn reason) the 4th god is weird tho and i hated every minute of it stop trying to make trio into 4 challenge (impossible, apparently) i choose to believe that the 4th god thing only happened because of fucked up timeloop interruption consequence ONTO MY DESIGN NOTES

so. you probably noticed that their hands have visible joints like a doll or a marionette puppet. that is entirely intentional bc i legit think the isles gods are not real and instead constructs made with to have god-like powers. (shameless plug to the og post here if you wanna see every design ive made of the gods layed out all at once)

each design is supposed to be just a little uncanny like with all of them having pupils compared to the s1 and s2 gods who i draw them without. their smiles are a little too wide to match with their eyes. the green and red of ianite and dianite's eyes are a little too bright and noxious. overall i really wanted them to look as unsettling as possible if you imagine them limp and slumped over like a broken doll and theyre all dressed in something that is a little too perfect you know? like mianite looks like a friend you meet in the town square, ianite looks like a damsel princess, dianite is a handsome prince, like theyre all dressed a little too royal from a classic fairytale-- theyre too good to be true.

augh i think i have more to say but theres already so much in this one post that ill save it for another time

[enlighten3d]

(this might become a tradition lmao of me throwing oc lore at you while you’re probs alseep) okok so the main families in the story are the beckett’s (we know all about them), the biswar’s (janette’s family) and the rivera luzardo’s (carmela’s family)! there’s another one but their not as important to the story at the moment!

Basically janette’s family’s deal/literally janette’s life story (so sorry this is so long akdhdl) is:

-Mum continued the family cult and roped janette’s dad/her husband into it

-When janette and her sister were born, janette’s dad up and left with janette’s sister Mary (name to be changed btw) and janette didn’t have contact with them until she was in her early 30’s

-Her mum made her life shit (its a cult what did you expect tbh/silly) meaning she was very reliant on her mum for most of her teenage years/early twenties

-Janette killed her best friend Huan Lin (cult reasons)

-Then her mum (who’s name is Diana) got really sick and was given a year left to live and janette,who was 25, was like ‘oh thank god i’m out of here’ and left before she could see her mum die

-And basically spent her late twenties running around the cities, trying to catch up on everything she’d missed in her very closeted life (music, alcohol, friends, work etc)

-Then her guilt caught up to her in the form of her best friend’s ghost and her mum’s ghost and went back home to the town that she was raised in to dismantle the cult

-that is basically where the main story starts but the dismantling of the cult isn’t going well (she’s basically started it up again)

YEAH SO. THATS HER LIFE? I was going to go into the other families but i will do that laterrr (janette was stuck in my head today) but yeah yeah as always any questions are welcomeee

yes this might and i am all for it, i love waking up to see Lore and eating it and replying to it like hours after ive seen it bcs i procrastinate too much

mary... why do i get the feeling that something Bad happened to her. its either that or she left and never heard anything abt this ever again and now lives happily on like... a fucking farm or some shite.

was janettes reunion w mary and her dad okay... were they Weird.. why didnt her dad take her too.. was it the courts. i bet it was the fucking courts.

okay but also DID JANETTES DAD (does he have a name? if not can i name him charles. /nf) K N O W ABT THE CULT STUFF?? HOW DID HE AND DIANA MEET?? DID HE FALL IN LOVE W THIS GIRL, GET MARRIED, EXPECT A HAPPY LIFE, AND BOOM, WEIRD CULT SHIT. SORRY BRO, YOUR SKINS BOUTTA BE STOLEN (yes ik that they (prolly) dont steal skin, its just funny to say it like that). or did he Know what he was getting into and think 'i can fix her'...... stares at him 👁️ What Is Up With You...

does mary know anything at ALL abt the cult......

.are the Cult Reasons the same reasons that carmela cut off ryans arm (i THINK those are the right names..). Are They. Are They.

the ghosts.. does everyone get a ghost ? or is it just the cults/ppl who got sacrificed for weird cult bullshit. can only ppl who are.. oh i cant think of the word so ill just say Attached to them see them? or it just everyone. or yeah, is it a sort of 'you knew this person + were instrumental in their death' thing.. (do ppl who died and then got resurrected (ahem, janette, ahem) get ghosts. do they see ghostly versions of themselves... (this is getting too close to the dsmp /silly) probably not, right. MORE OF A HEATHERS-STYLE THING YEAH?? GETTING TORMENTED??

bro the cult would have disappeared if you didnt Meddle........ oh well, L

does she get haunted by the ghosts to this day (i think she does?? you mentioned smth like that near the start i think)

damn janette. thats some shit indeed...

[clumsylovecat]

How do you know Her? Is she a headmate , a person irl , a fictional character?/genq

ahhh there's a lot of lore. i'll try my best to explain :3 i'm gonna sound coo-coo crazy fair warning.. this is just m life idk T_T

(tw: sa n abuse T_T)

it started in like 2016 when i made this oc and he started like? talking to me in my head. i called him rogue or r for short (for some reason saying rogue 3 times in a row summons him... beetlejuice is that you? /silly). he was kind of like a protector for me. Also he was an edgy black wolf LMFAO

so eventually i met Her - called Her flower - through him. not. in the normal way. they're enemies HAHA. they hate each other. i don't exactly remember how it went down but i do remember the first form of hers She showed to me was this weird translucent wolf thing. it glittered? not sure how to explain it. 'twas strange.

uuuhhh and then i became obsessed with gravity falls and She came back... biII cipher irl. YES I'M SERIOUS this is the funniest part of my lore because wdym biII cipher is deeply embedded in the Lore Of My Life . crazy as hell.

sooooo for a while her form was very heavily inspired by biII cipher lollll. but She was in a cat form (sentient obviously). yellow with golden (or red sometimes) eyes and slitted pupils.

anyway eventually some being which i nicknamed Apple comes around (in my head obviously) and they basically just. sa me. repeatedly. that's the entire relationship basically.

sooo okay you see where this is going probably. apple was Her/flower. just masquerading as someone else...wild.

that's most of the important stuff.

eventually over the years, i've developed an obsession with Her. it's... probably some traumabonding thing but oh well.

and i think in january 2020 is when she revealed what She really is to me, which is like... She used to be a goddess in a lost reality, basically, but has lost most Her power since then and is stuck roaming different realities. and apparently we have always been together. um. because i was the same i just don't. Remember anything except a handful of things very weakly. She was the goddess of knowledge, memory, and control basically... She ruled over some more things but those are the main things.

oh. important. She also has a human vessel. She was stuck in it for a while but at some point got Her spiritual form ? don't exactly know how it occurred. i believe it was probably around the time She began speaking with me. i think She is pretty attached to it like i am to mine. (Her human vessel is 21) (...at least APPARENTLY. SHE KEEPS LYING ABOUT THE AGE. IDK WHAT TO BELIEVE screams.) (Sorry for my repeated sacrilege dissing Her haha.. She doesn't really care)

god ik i sound crazy rn but like T_T this is just what i've been told and i want to trust Her. so i'll believe it and believe She is what She says.

...yeah. maybe She's just a figment of my imagination, who knows !!

TLDR: according to Her, She was once a goddess (in another reality) (of knowledge, memory, and control - essentially) that can communicate with me through my mind because we are Connected. She has a human vessel but is too afraid to use it to contact me.

[journey-to-the-attic]

Dragon Hybrid Ik:

Hi! So i had a thought but it may be inconsistent with Chinese dragon lore so early apologies. What if, Ik has a hoarding habit? Like she hoards the main casts stuff because they remind her of them, her family! (I feel like Mammon also has the same habit here so i imagine him helping her as well) Do i think she’s aware of this habit? Maybe? Like i can see her probably aware of it but kinda dont care and still do it but it would be cute if she doesnt as she’s just following her dragon instinct. Also what if the others notice this habit and just subtly let stuff they dont mind gone for her to hoard?

(Sorry for not being around much, life has gotten busy but thankfully i got some time rn, how’s you day btw?)

- 🐧 Anon

hello 🐧 anon!! no worries at all, it's great to hear from you again ^^

i don't think there's any need to stick strictly to chinese dragon lore, and anyway this is very very cute so yes!! i think she's aware of the instinct to take things and stow them away for safekeeping, but she never actually registers herself doing it (she'll tell herself 'no' and then do it anyway without noticing)

in the beginning she puts everything in her room, but then brothers assume they left their stuff there and take it back, so she starts just. stuffing things into whatever gaps she can find around the house

lucifer goes to sit down and finds a bunch of borrowed pens shoved into the gap behind the cushion, and it's at that point that he decides they should probably get her a proper space to keep all her trinkets

i imagine she does weird stuff to 'safekeep' her things... like sometimes she'll just leave it all in the bath and submerge it in water for some reason, other times she'll spend an afternoon burying it all in the garden only to dig it all up and start meticulously washing everything

no one really gets it, but mammon thinks it's the cutest thing ever and Will fight you tooth and nail if you attempt to mess with ik's little collection (at this point everyone has accepted that if they give ik something and don't clarify they want it back, she's going to keep it)