#and he'd push through an issue instead of avoiding it or going around it

[koishua]

small discussion but in the atla universe, which element would the enha boys be able to bend??

[actualbird]

love this post. mwah

now here's each of these assigned to an nxx boy

first -> vyn. he is literally a mental health professional and so he'd know the vocabulary of his issues and how to tackle it. the only thing holding him back is the fact that he'd be very averse to showing any kind of vulnerability, weakness, or fault. so he'd be like

vyn: i am aware i have problems and i know what they are, as well as how to treat them. nobody else has to know this though.

second -> artem. he is a self-aware and intelligent man who would be able to realize that there are Signs but he would also be more susceptible to frustration on how to actually handle it, partly also because of an aversion to showing Wrongness. so he'd be like

artem: i sense i have symptoms but i don't know how to deal with them. perhaps i can put this off...indefinitely.

third -> luke. mister repression avoidant liar extraordinaire!!! he will ACTIVELY push people away and belittle his struggles, like it's not a big deal and he'll get over it! he likely wouldnt be too aggressive (it'll be more likely that he smacks a strained smile on his face instead) but he would be incredibly beat-around-the-bush-y and averse to anybody getting close to him while he's going through Whatever It Is He's Going Through. so he'd be like

luke: it's fine! i'm fine! this is nothing, i'll get over it! wanna go grab a burger? :D

fourth -> marius. NOW WE'RE TALKING. i'm not saying he's stupid, i'm saying he's so deep down in denial that it doesn't even occur to him that he might have problems. like it doesnt even compute for him. he doesnt have to vocabulary for what he's going through because he, in the first place, doesnt even believe theres anything wrong. so he'd be like

marius: haha yeah when i'm stuck in a cold dark location i like toooootally zone out and like, breathe all weird, then brain totally shuts off, all empty. same thing happens when people bring up mom or how long giann's been gone, haha. it's just. it's Funky Time. things get Funky. wdym it's a problem? it goes away pretty quickly and becomes Empty Time! and it feels pretty swimmy for a while but hey, at least i'm able to get some work done once the Empty Time hits. haha

vyn: good lord

artem: i...i don't think thats a regular response

luke: man even i can tell that's a problem. and that's rich, coming from me.

marius: it's not! it's---it's funny! guys, you can laugh, you know? uh. please laugh....please?

[agnesof-god]

One way ticket.

First fic!!! I didn't beta read so apologies for any mistakes, anyway, enjoyyyy!!!

Tags: agnsty ig, sad ending, idk I'm new to this shit i usually do the reading.

Word count: fuck knows, it's kinda short, probably over 1k.

"I'm not the one you want babe... I'm not the one you need..."

You let out the breath you were holding as the two of you stood at arms length. He'd been avoiding you all day. And it was raining, pouring. Evident on his usual volumous hair clung to his skin.

You had issues. It'd be a lie to say you didn't. The fact that Leon could handle a handful like you as well as police academy seemed miraculous to you. You'd bicker the right amount. It'd end with an apology, whether from you or him. Usually him. He couldn't bear you going to sleep angry at him. Rejection strung him deep. I guess he had some issues, too. But he was so perfect.

"I'm leaving."

"I know."

Silence. Until your voice cuts through it.

"Still no reason to ignore my calls." You knew that he knew you knew anyway.

Leon just shrugged. Like he didn't have his suitcase packed two days in advance. You were bitter, to say the least.

"And you, what, left me to find out on my own, too?" You looked at him, and he looked back at you. Two sharing an expression. Tire. He had nothing to say, really.

"I'm sorry. "

That didn't cut it. He was going out of state.

"No you're not."

His lips parted to object, but his didn't, scoffing instead.

"So you don't care?" Putting words in his mouth, you were baiting, an excuse, a reason to make this hurt less.

"Are you even listening?"

"Y/n, I swear to God. All you ever do is whine. My flights in a few hours and you're still pissed off-"

"I'm pissed off, cus you didn't tell me."

Your eyes followed his figure, pacing away from you, into another room.

"Great, now you're walking off."

Leon trotted, retreating to their bedroom to get his suitcase. But she was right. He was a coward. Then after a moment of cussing under his breath, he returned, wheelie in hand.

"I think we should split up."

What?

"Oh, cus you were just waiting to whip that out."

"No! It's- it's cus of the long distance, y/n."

"Shut up." You turn away from him. "Leave, just leave."

He scoffed again.

"I'm leaving, and you're mad about it." It made you sound crazy.

Your head whipped around, eyes glossing over "Don't, don't dare, turn this around on me."

"It is on you, I should be on my way to the airport by now."

"Then leave, fuckin' leave. I don't care, I don't care at all!"

You fibbed through your teeth, you were on a roll, really laying it on there thick.

"Yes, I will leave. Cus there's nothing here for me. Nothing at all!"

What, not even you? That went right to your core. Really striking you where it hurt. That's all you did. Love each other. Then hurt each other.

Your lips trembled, tensions high. "Do I mean nothing to you?" Dear lord, you were about to break down.

"Dammit y/n."

"Nothing? Nothing at all?"

You scoffed "All this time I thought..."

"Y/n-"

"I thought what we had was real, I thought-"

Your voice was over his insistence.

"I thought you loved me, I'm so, stupid! So, damn stupid."

"Stop it!" He never shouted, ever.

"I hate you!"

In the moment you felt like you meant it. But in all honesty you didn't. Lying for, what, the forth, fifth time?

"No..."

"I do." You berated. Breathless.

"No, you don't, y/n"

"I hate you-"

Oh, you were starting up again, after a grand two seconds of cool down.

"I swear to- drop it." His voice trembled, letting go of his suitcase.

You didn't, stepping forward, weakly pushing away at his chest.

"I mean it i- i hate you so much for not telling me and i found out after everyone and i feel like you hate me and you're- you're moving away, cus you're sick of me and you're moving on and i'm being left behind-"

"Stop making everything about you!" He cursed himself for saying that.

It all came out like word vomit, and your sniffles were getting in the way, a running nose as you aimlessly pushed him. Shoving. And he just took it.

"Y/n shut up. Shut up, I don't hate you."

You kept mumbling, listing words of self-deprication.

"Dammit, I don't hate you! I don't." Leon swears on it.

He grabbed hold of your shoulders. Staring you down as his gaze willed you to meet his eyes.

"Hand to God, I don't."

"You don't?" You were delirious, all this pent up resentment. It was so stupid.

"I never could, hell, y/n... you're all I have...." His thumb held your chin up, threading through your hair to meet your cheek as you tired to back away..

"You're all I need."

Through all the barriers of defence, his words got to you.

Your name fell out his lips once more, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he pleaded for you to respond.

"Please... look at me." The tremble in his voice returned, both hands holding your face as he made you meet eyes. "Please don't hate me... please don't be mad."

Your sniffles, continuous restraints, trying not to cry. Not just for you, but for him. God. And it all washes away. His eyes like an evening sky, you'd wish you could skinny dip in, you'd wish you could drown in the marine of his iris.

Your lovers hand returned to hold your jaw, guiding your face closer to his as he muttered comfort. He hated this, leaving you, going separate ways. It didn't take long to win you back, even if momentarily, lips pressed against each other, slow, almost sheepish movements, scared as your head tilts, like second nature. Your touch was what he needed. And now it was to be denied. A kiss on the lips trailing down to your neck, this was his way of making up to you. A silent apology after every kiss, every lovebite. You gasped, breath shortening, you needed more, it was a greed you both shared. The tantalising process of groping, removing clothes, littering one another with love letters formed as meaningful kisses, far from fleeting.

His belt, cursing under his breath, he could never undo it like you could. Pulling him in by the belt and undid it, desperate, you two stumbled into the bedroom, a hand reached out to the wall to steady yourself halfway there, un-steadided hands, clothes discarded in a trail leading up to their bed... the shape of your body... the stretch of his skin... contact you deprived one another of, the days, weeks prior, cus you sensed the shift in the air. He was leaving.

Kisses pressed to yours and his skin turned to hickeys as contact grows frantic, he hoists you above him, gentle yet desperate, he's crying, even as you roll beneath him, hands finding home in his hair, like default as you mutter sweet nothings, easing his sniffles as you pause every now and then, halting the quick pace of love-making as you muffle his cries with another kiss, from tender to messy and open mouthed, saliva drawn everytime you broke away his hand, a fistful of your hair as you both hold a gaze loving and adoring, like you both decorated the skies for one another, the Sun the stars, the Moon. "The inconstant Moon". But moments like this made your love seem forever. Dammit. He was leaving, head hidden in your neck as he let's out another sob.

"Its okay... its okay." You wanted to cry, too.

And before you knew it was over, the panting breaths shared between you settled, and you just wished that he would too.

Settle with you.

Forever and ever. You were hopeless like that, childish, it was endering. His face remains buried in the nape of your neck, lazy, lazy pecks for kisses that he leaves on your skin. Your hands doing the things they always do, preoccupied abscent minded strokes on the stretch of his skin, wandering to his hair as his thrusts slow to a complete stop. Moments like this made him want to take it all back. Take you back.

And stay.

"Y/n."

Oh no. You could feel it coming. The courage he was mustering to finally leave as he grunts. Pulling out of you. Missing his touch already, weren't you? The radiating heat, the weight of him above you-

He calls your name again, jeans already back on, fumbling with his belt, the one you swiftly unbuckled one-handed and desperate, just savoury moments prior. You sit up, sniffling as he slides his top back on. And you've got nothing up your sleeve to make him stall, to make him stay longer.

"The flights in two hours, i gotta go."

Please don't. That what you want to say. But it was nothing new. You'd pleaded those same words already. His mind was set. And his certainty on things was usually endearing. But in context like this. You hated it. Selfish. You know. But you can't hold your lover back. His coats back on. Dammit. And you know if you reach to hug, to kiss him, this'll simply repeat, or he'll refuse. But regardless, it was inevitable that he was going to leave you.

To move on with life.

Watching him contemplate, avoiding your gaze as you fix your bra. You wanna do this right. Formally, but that lovemaking was the true goodbye and thank you.

"Okay" you brace yourself. Standing up. Pulling your own pair of jeans up and buttoning it. Another breath you were holding through it all. You stuff your hands in your pockets, fingers itching in resistance to reach out and show him how much you love Leon once more. But you don't, won't, can't hold him back anymore than you have.

He breaks the silence. "Bye." The crack in his voice cracks you too.

A noise from your throat resembling a contained sob escapes your lips. You can't cry. Not now. That'll be cruel on him. He hates it when you cry. Great, now you're thinking about all the times he held you- dammit y/n. He's leaving for goodness sake.

"Goodbye, Leon" just above a whisper cus if you speak any louder you'll bawl.

You stand in another round of silence, and you don't hug in case you hold on too long. The both of you think so. He turns to open the door. With a little wheelie bag in hand, and it's all in slow motion. The way he looks back at you.

"I love you" it's said at the same time. How painfully romantic of you. His eyes gloss over and so does yours. He should leave. Get it over with.

Another mutter of good byes and before he even shuts the door behind him you're sobbing, sinking to the sofa continuing the cry you had before he arrived.

Dammit, you should've left with him. But you had separate dreams. Even then, you could've dropped him off at the airport. No, there was no point.

You were insatiable and you wanted him all to himself and he felt the same way, finding home in your heart only to leave a void in it, a one way ticket bought as he was out of your grasp, whisked away by Raccoon City dreams.

You miss him already.

• AN: might continue this. But it was sped written in like three-ish hours so idk

• And yes, I just had to add that one Romeo and Juliet quote.

[runespoor7]

hello!! for the ask game -- any more details about that post where wei wuxian finds out that wen ning and jiang cheng are hooking up post-canon 👀

the background for this is that WWX hears about WN/JC a while after WN/JC has been a thing - they've had time to phase out of the hate-sex phase, the phase where they're surprised that they have a cordial acquaintance interspersed with moment of kinship outside of sex, and are in the phase where they're willing to see where this takes them. it's been a few years since the end of canon, so WWX and JC have crossed paths since then.

WWX goes through some truly embarrassing denial. Because clearly what WN and JC gave been having isn't sex, it's not like, y'know, sex-sex. They must have been cutely holding hands and cuddling.

or, well, actually WWX isn't even thinking about that part too much either because the idea of JC cuddling makes his heart twinge and his throat go tight and actually what matters here is that what WN and JC are doing is fake sex and can't be real or correct or good!! They're probably too embarrassed to even hold hands, WN's too nice to push and JC is awful!!!

for the record LWJ hates this and is glaring at WN whenever they meet because WN is the one who stumblingly and delicately mentioned that he and SLJ are seeing one another, thank you WN.

2. for a while WWX manages to keep his obnoxiousness under enough wraps that WN can ignore it.

then one day WWX makes the mistake of switching targets for his random bout of fretting, and instead of bothering his husband he talks at WN about his ConcernTM regarding JC having sex WN having sex WWX not being there JC not being good at cuddling while WN needs someone who'll be nice to him.

WN awkwardly conveys the information that oh, hm, actually, that is not an issue, JC is a very good cuddler.

and then some demon must have taken over WN's mouth for a moment, probably invited by WWX's moue of disbelief because WN adds, very neatly cutting through WWX's exclamation that ah, that's just like WN to be so nice, but he's just saying that because he doesn't know better, because in fact--, "i just get him tired enough."

3. denial comes crashing down violently around WWX's ears and so does his peace of mind.

(there's a lot WWX hasn't made his peace with. JC never let him cuddle when they swapped handjobs as teens.)

suddenly WWX starts treating WN like a rival. it's unexpectedly thrilling for WN, and the fact that WWX's moods make it clear that in WWX's mind, WN is winning, makes it even sweeter. WN isn't used to winning. (WN wouldn't have thought of JC as a prize, it's complicated, the thing with JC. and yet. WWX thinks of JC as a prize. Even if he's not admitting it to himself.)

(LWJ is hating this even more but if he'd made a habit of trying to enforce his boundaries with WWX he wouldn't be WWX's regular, would he. he does try to distract WWX! with his dick! it has admirable success for the duration of coitus and then WWX starts getting the same look again. Distracting WWX with a mystery and a night-hunt just ends with WWX musing about looking up specific legends in YunmengJiang, at which point LWJ recognizes that they're going to have to go to Lotus Pier and hope for the best.)

4. They go to Lotus Pier, where: JC has so far been blissfully ignorant of this entire farce.

There's some new tension between he and WN because JC misinterpreted some mentions of WWX WN made, and WWX is an extremely fraught topic between them, one that they've avoided since they rolled out of their hate-sex phase. Originally JC doesn't link WWX's visit to WN's presence, he's too busy being taken aback (and distrustful) (and happy) at WWX being there, WWX trying to recall their history, WWX acting almost as close as they did once.

WN - who was already here! funny how these things work out! - is wincing throughout out these proceedings. WN himself isn't invited to stay in Lotus Pier proper, it's one of these things. YMJ doesn't have dogs for SLJ to unleash on WN, but he wouldn't want to take the risk, it seemed like a boundary worth respecting. There's something particularly awful about seeing WWX ingratiate himself - the word that comes to WN's mind is woo, really - with JC with JC unaware of the reason why it's happening.

Telling JC the truth keeps being the role WN stumbles into, time and again. At least this time he isn't trying to hurt JC on purpose. Even though talking about WWX is another of those boundaries of JC, another of those things that WN knows hurts JC, but--

at least this time he didn't wait years before telling JC either.

5. JC reacts by immediately being furious at everyone involved, but mostly at WWX, and there's a HUGE DRAMATIC SHOUTING MATCH.

JC acts like WWX returning like that, because of this, is some horrible betrayal.

WWX is outraged that WN told JC. (WWX's actual problem is that he's atrociously jealous of someone, anyone, getting somewhere with JC that he never got, by which I mean not just sex but also cuddling and a stable relationship that you can tell the people close to you about, and desperately needs to be higher in JC's priorities. he knows better, he really does, but WN's revelations turned his world upside down and.)

JC is also outraged that WN told WWX about-- *angrily cuts himself off* "--about you two fucking," WWX finishes, so incensed he's that close to calling JC by his courtesy name. And how is that any of WWX's concern exactly, to which WWX retorts something along the lines of "making sure they're not hurting one another," or something equally untrue. There's accusations of WWX playing games (JC - about WWX's return; then WN - about WWX trying to seduce JC, which gets JC snapping at WN and LWJ grimly nodding), there's an attempt from LWJ (who is throwing poisonous looks at both JC and WN) to convince boo that they're not worth it, let's just go, and WWX spits out in a fit of atrocious jealousy that it's his business because they're his, WN is his, and WWX had JC first, so why does JC let WN cuddle him--

at which point JC throws everyone out for the night. WWX and LWJ have to find a room at an inn, and WWX feels the disgrace acutely from having a guest room. (LWJ is indispensable in dragging WWX away, for the record. LWJ doesn't drag WWX all the way back to Cloud Recesses, because WWX "needs" to have JC, as he stresses to LWJ. But he thought about it before WWX started tugging on his heartstrings.)

5.5 - that same night

WWX slinks back out of the inn and beelines straight for LP. he needs to talk to JC, to fix things - JC always thinks the worst of things, it all went topsy turvy. There were too many people! This conversation he should have had without WN. (there's another conversation he needs to have with WN, but WWX's been putting that off forever and isn't going to stop now.) Even LWJ, bless him, of course JC would take everything the wrong way, given how he is with LWJ around.

WN intercepts him just as he's about to enter LP. And isn't budging on not letting him in. ("He said no, Wei-gongzi.") there's something very ironic about WN acting like JC's watchdog without being asked but WWX isn't unpacking all that - it feels like if he did he would entirely unravel.

A couple of WWX's arguments erode WN's resolve - "he threw you out too; you know you need to convince him to take you back or he'll keep a grudge and he won't take you back before forever" and "WN, we both care about JC," and "we need to dissipate this misunderstanding" - and if he'd had just a little more time he's sure he could have gotten through to him but JC finds them before that can happen. (people who trust in WWX's ability to take no for an answer: 0) Eyes slit, looking unhappy, all "what are you doing here."

"We came to see you."

Grudgingly, JC takes them in.

(He, too, thinks it's something unfinished. And his weak point was always fear of abandonment. What if he pushes away too much. They returned tonight. It would be foolish to push them away again; what if they change their minds?)

they're more tired than earlier, and quieter, so despite JC taking them to his office and not his bedroom after the confessions of caring and hurt they'll manoeuver themselves into a successful threesome before the night is out. (despite WWX tempting fate or at least JC's temper by asking whether it's truly so bad that WWX didn't say why he was back now? and no, for JC of course it's not, it's about WWX never telling the truth.)

After all, they came back.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Rescued

----

Taking a walk in the imagination goes slightly wrong.

Luckily Virgil is there to save him.

----

| Ao3 |

Warnings: Minor injuries, unreliable narrator (Kinda, Janus just really misses the mark on Virgil's feelings lol)

Pairings: Anxceit

Word Count: 1256

Notes:

Starts just a little bit angsty at the beginning, but I promise it gets cute near the end!!!

"(sympathetic) anxceit !! <3" - From @jinxunzel l!

Third fic for @tss-camp-and-coffee

----

Janus should have known that going into the imagination without one of the twins was probably going to be a bad idea. It had all started fine, with a walk through the beautiful rolling flower fields that populated Roman's side of the imagination. A walk to clear his head had been exactly what he needed after everything that had happened.

He'd go into that, but really, what hadn't happened between the six of them? There were so many problems that Janus wouldn't be able to list them if he tried. Roman's mistakes, Patton's stubbornness, Logan's struggle to be listened to, Remus' willingness to be an issue in of itself and Virgil... well.

Janus still hadn't quite gotten over how much Virgil seemed to hate him now. The time they'd spent apart must have soured him. It was probably Janus' fault to an extent, or maybe it was the other sides. He had no idea, all he knew was that it made his heart hurt to think about it. Virgil's dismissals, his cutting remarks, his general disdain towards Janus around the others and his avoidance of him otherwise.

He could only imagine how Virgil had reacted when he'd heard Janus and Remus were being accepted into the group. It hadn't happened with him there. Maybe that was batter.

His mind was still swirling with thoughts and it had been months now since then. That was what the walk was for, for him to sort it all out.

Maybe that was how he hadn't noticed that he'd left the rolling rainbow fields and entered a darker, more gloomy part of the imagination. A forest with trees that dripped with slimy sap in all colours, who's brown leaves hung down and threatened to brush his shoulders.

By the time he noticed he had wandered into Remus' half of the imagination, it had been too late.

Roman's imagination was easy to come and go from as long as you didn't allow yourself to be too sucked in by its beauty. Remus' imagination however...

It gripped you with unseen claws. Vines wound at your feet and ankles while a raven called, distantly signalling your doom. Remus' imagination did not like to let people go once it had them ensnared.

Janus felt a ripple of fear wash over him, pressing down on his lungs and making evening out his breathing a struggle for a moment.

When he managed it, he turned back, looking down the path he had came in hopes that the flower fields wouldn't be too far away. But now there was no path, he was lost, well and truly. He just had to hope that Remus would notice he was here.

Then he heard a rumble in the distance, and suddenly the trees seemed to shudder and creak away from the creature that seconds later burst it's head from the ground.

A multi-headed snake creature. The irony was not lost on him.

Still, Janus shrieked, because what else was he supposed to do when a head lunched for him? He barely got out of the way in time, so much so that part of his caplet was torn away in the snake's huge jaw. Fuck. What was he supposed to do? He had no weapon, and even if he had it's not like he could fight. He was Janus, he wasn't a fighter!

Dodging and darting between the heads as they lunged for him only got him so far and soon enough he was on the ground, the creature was looming over him. He let out a meaningless scream for help as he curled into a ball. He knew no-one would hear him.

Could sides die? He had no idea. He hoped not.

But the strike from the snake he expected never came. Instead he heard a slash of a sword and a war cry that immediately confused him. That wasn't one of the twins, was it?

The snake creature was pushed back until it disappeared into the trees. All the while Janus stared up the disgustingly ugly trees and tried to work out what the hell had just happened as his body screamed in pain from various cuts and bruises.

A face appeared in his vision and yeah, definitely not one of the twins. The black eyeshadow and purple hoodie were far too distinctive.

"Hey Jay," Virgil said, voice achingly soft in a way Janus hadn't heard in years. Janus wondered if maybe at some point he had started hallucinating, "That thing really did a number on you, huh?"

Janus just hummed, lost for words. What was he supposed to say? Was Virgil really here?

"Okay," Virgil said, "No talking then - I'm gonna get you back and patch you up a little, okay? Just hang in there for me."

Virgil crouched down, and Janus was certain he'd made a pathetic noise when Virgil's hands slipped under his back and knees to hoist him up.

Janus tried not to pass out, he wasn't even all that injured, though he was starting to think he might have hit his head at some point. In the end, though, with his head cushioned on Virgil's shoulder, he couldn't help but close his eyes.

----

Janus woke up in his room.

That was normal.

What wasn't normal, was the fact that he was not alone when he woke.

"Hey," Came Virgil's exceedingly gentle voice again. Was Janus still dreaming? He must be, "Good morning."

"'mornin-" Janus practically slurred, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. He tried to sit up and a warm hand pressed in between his shoulder blades to help him.

"Here, take it slow, you took a bit of a beating," Virgil said, before pressing something into his hand, "Drink this, it'll help."

Janus raised the cup to his lips and took a few sips of what he discovered to be water before gulping the rest down.

"There you go," Virgil said. Janus finally allowed himself to look up, finding Virgil perching on the edge of his bed and smiling softly at him.

"How long was I out for...?" Janus asked, reaching up to rub his face. He found a band aid placed across his cheek over what must've been a bad scratch.

"Only a few hours," Virgil said, "You passed out while I was carrying you back, but you're injuries weren't that bad - what were you doing out there?"

"I didn't get lost," Janus said immediately, Virgil raised an eyebrow, so Janus tried for something a little more genuine, "I - I didn't think you of all people would come."

Virgil looked even more surprised then, "You were scared, I felt it, of course I'd come."

Janus couldn't think of something to say, so he reached to put the glass down on his bedside table to buy himself a little time.

"I... really?"

"You didn't think I'd come?"

"Why would I? You hate me."

"Hate you? I couldn't hate you if I tried, you dork, what do you mean, hate you?" Virgil huffed, shaking his head - he looked baffled.

Once again lost for words, Janus just leaned forwards and dragged Virgil backwards into a tight hug. After an eep of surprise, he felt Virgil's arms wrap around him and Janus felt something in his heart click back into place.

"We need to talk about the fact that you thought I hated you," Virgil mumbled.

"No we don't."

They would talk about it later. For now, Janus was going to try and fit four years worth of cuddles into one night.

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess@glacierruler@roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmealdaydreams @littlerat2 @goldnskyart @virgeandhis-pocket-protector @amateurmasksmith (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!

[nightcolorz]

If Armand were to kill Marius then how would you think he'd do it, show vs book?

Also what would be the last straw that finally makes him do it?

(Quick psa for followers, so far I have seventeen asks in my inbox about Armand killing Marius lmao ily guys, and I’m going to make an Armand killing Marius tag entitled “Armand kills Marius lol x3”)

Anyways, I think book Armand would be way more likely to kill Marius than show Armand lmao. My reasoning for that is bcus book Armand is meaner then show Armand 😭, he has less qualms about callously killing people, and he’s by the end of the series gone through a lot more character growth and self realization then show Armand has so far where he would be more likely to emotionally be able to handle that. Show Armand has an issue where he falls into the same patterns of depending on people or institutions who hurt him to “survive” and then believing that he’s nothing when he looses said things. He has trouble living independently at all 😭. And show Armand also has a victim complex where he crumbles into himself when he is hurt instead of taking action. And he also seems to have more positive feelings (so far) about Marius than book Armand does by the end of the series at least.

book armand is actually fucking crazy 😭 like if y’all think show Armand is insane then book armand would put u into a coma 💀. While show Armand seems self aware and guilty about his own insane actions and tries to avoid doing those things, book Armand don’t give a shit 💀. If someone threatens him in any minor way he will fucking kill them, lmao. The difference tho, is that show Armand is seemingly more willing to kill his loved ones for his own survival then book Armand is. Book Armand (as far as I remember) has never done that, and it might even be triggering for him to contemplate that, since he was forced to kill his best friend that one time. But book Armand is capable of falling into black and white threat vs none threat thinking, and if Marius threatens him enough to warrant being killed I think he’d push his feelings for him aside and do it. But it’d take a rlly big catalyst, both Armand’s still love Marius (regardless of how aware they r of how he’s wronged them), and both Armand’s would have trouble with pushing past that to kill him.

But I think book armands catalyst would have to be Marius threatening the perceived safety of his loved ones. One of book Armand’s strongest traits is that he is incredibly protective and caring of the people he loves, and he is willing to do anything to keep them safe. People who fall into this category would be Louis, Benji and Sybelle, Lestat, and Daniel. Tho Marius is one of Armand’s closest loved ones, Armand is still implicitly threatened by him bcus of how his trauma lives in his body and affects how safe he is able to feel around Marius. Armand also expects Marius to be the one protecting him bcus of their past dynamic, and doesn’t consider marius someone who falls into his “people who I protect” category.

so what I’m getting at is, I think all it would take for book Armand to decide to kill Marius would be Marius threatening the safety of his loved ones, especiallyyy his children. Marius has already harmed Benji and Sybelle in a way Armand considers nearly unforgivable, so I think they’d be the easiest targets to trigger this reaction. Book Armand is significantly weaker than Marius, so if he were to kill him it would take a lot of strategy and element of surprise type stuff. Maybe the Claudia style poisoning would work (it would take some heavy duty poison lmao)

When it comes to show Armand, I can’t see him ever planning out to kill Marius, for reasons previously described. So I think if he were to do that, it’d have to be nearly accidental. The extent of how powerful show armand is is unexplained, but based on the powers he’s seen to have it’s not out of the realm of possibility that Armand is about as powerful as Marius. I think that if show armand were to kill Marius, Marius would have to trigger one of his trigger buttons, threaten his safety, smth like that, and armand would violently attack him in an emotional rage and then gape in horror at what he’s done. Part cathartic killing of a terrible person, part heart breaking drama. Also a Riccardo trigger lol

thanks for the ask!

[frauleinandry]

just finished the episode aigis dlc, and honestly...

just watch a FES cutscene compilation instead, imo.

long post of my specific thoughts under the cuts; it's not proofread, so read it at your own peril.

so, to start with, i've never played FES and the OG answer, but i pretty much knew all the rough sequences of events (along with the common fandom complaints) since i never bothered dodging persona spoilers when i was younger since i didn't think i'd ever get the chance to play the games.

one of the Big Problems most people seemed to have with the original version is that 90% of it is an unfun dungeon crawler, but i was pretty confident reload would fix that by sheer nature of it being reload. i mean, i loved the new tartarus gameplay loop - more of that sounds great!

except it wasn't. i couldn't figure out why at first - was it because of the reset levels, loss of the second theurgies/personality traits, or the lack of ambush mechanics i'd gotten used to? in part, yeah. i do think it would have been more enjoyable if you'd started at level 70 or so, and were at level 99 by the time the final boss rolls around. in normal persona games there's never any actual reason to get to that level after all unless you're playing some sort of challenge run.

but ultimately, i realised what the dungeon crawling segment lacked compared to tartarus. and that was a time limit. a huge part of newsona games is resource management. to optimise your time, you've got to complete as much of tartarus as you can whenever you go in. the full moon is constantly looming, and with it the end of your time in iwatodai.

episode aigis completely lacks that, however. there's no looming deadline hanging over you. you've got all the time in the world to tackle the abyss of time, and no stakes pushing you onward, nor any particular reward waiting for you at the end. the characters themselves treat exploring it as a chore once paulownia mall is unlocked, with good reason.

it also doesn't help that there's not much happening during that point of the game besides going through not-tartarus. the new conversations between aigis and SEES help, but there's no real change in the gameplay loop. you go to tartarus, see a figure that's clearly makoto but somehow no one puts two-and-two together, and get a flashback, rinse and repeat.

admittedly, there's no real fixing the lack of deadline issue. that's simply inherent with the premise. the makoto stuff, however, is a different thing. i love the resolution to it, with him being a proto-erebus (and everyone taking solace in seeing his face one more time again, even if they know it's not him - like argh). the lead up, however, is meh.

make it so SEES recognises him instantly - make it so they think he's the real deal, somehow returned to them from the past, but for some reason he's avoiding him all. make them gradually realise how odd that is (except for yukari and maybe aigis, who are in denial). make it so his appearance is what sends both of them spiralling for the next segment of episode aigis, the boss rush.

so, the SEES vs SEES match over the keys is something i like in theory. and i do like parts of it. i think junpei's character development shines through greatly here, along with some regression on yukari and akihiko's parts, which is also fabulous! like, this is some really solid conflict!

what i dislike, however, is the hackneyed 'if aigis loses her key she'll die!' storyline. it's just so... unnecessary? on that note, the loser-gets-turned-into-flames aspect from the colosseo purgatorio is also, uh, not fabulous, especially how metis springs it on aigis. it makes metis far too unlikable, and therefore completely sours the effect of her begging for aigis to be safe, because at that stage i had absolutely not forgiven her.

like, they simply could have had akihiko force aigis to fight since he realises she doesn't want to actually move forward into the future and he'd feel bad using her key for something she doesn't actually want. then, have it so metis was unaware of what the colosseum does to losers, which then make her realise (with fuuka confirming it) that it'll mix poorly with aigis multiple personas, preventing her from rematerialising properly if she loses.

i think the final nail in the coffin is that the bossfights are just... not fun? like, why the heck do akihiko and koromaru have counter skills. why are crit rates so nerfed if you're playing on hard. hell, i actually bumped the difficulty down to normal purely because the SEES team were absolute damage sponges, and i just got bored. i will say though, the way they actually use their theurgies was a nice touch!

this leads me to my biggest gripe with the DLC. i'd heard about it before i reached this point, which i think was for the best because it saved me an immeasurable amount of disappointment. namely WHY DID THEY NERF MITSURU'S MOTIVATIONS?! no, she did not make a promise to stay by each of her friend's sides if they're suffering. she made a promise to aid yukari specifically due to her gratitude over kyoto!! anyway, excuse me, i'm going to eat some drywall now.

i will say though that the erebus stuff all got my seal of approval. the final door was appropriately creepy (and the time travel to the final fight was a great way to introduce SEES to erebus), and generally, I have no complaints about the final fight.

my final issue with the DLC was the death fakeout for aigis at the end. it's just like the whole if-aigis-looses-her-key-she'll-die-for-real thing. like, the whole 'oh no, she's dead!', 'oh wait, she's fine!' thing is just. uuuuurgh. like, really, just have SEES worried for a moment when she doesn't wake up, and then have them realise using multiple personas just drained her battery lmao. same thing, but far less grating.

but yeah. anyway, very much a 4/10 experience, and a stark lesson as to why remakes that mirror their predecessors gameplay structure don't always work.

[ashyybees-art]

An initial character analysis of Ahsoka for the series that I think people should be considering:

I see a lot of people questioning Ahsoka's attitude and decisions and I feel like a lot of people don't realize that this point of time for Ahsoka post-rebellion has been the first time that Ahsoka has taken the time to actually reflect on everything and actually think about who she is.

To elaborate:

Ahsoka's early life was all about the Order, and then the Clone Wars where she was basically a soldier. There's a whole lot that goes into there of how Ahsoka identified and how the rest of the galaxy identified people as "Jedi". But then she walked away from it, with a heavy questioning on who she was and even up to the end of S7 Ahsoka was still questioning that. (She lost faith in the Order, but also the faith in herself)

She never got to answer that question with Order 66 occurring. Immediately everything around her was ruptured. She wasn't a Jedi of the Order, but to the eyes of the galaxy that didn't matter-they roped anyone with the abilities to be one (a skewed perception) and she's forced to hide. She's still in questioning and being hunted by the new government doesn't really give one the time to sit and figure it out clearly.

All the way through hiding and then being part of the Rebellion (all those years) Ahsoka pushed away thinking about who she was and facing this dilemma sitting in her. She just clung to "I'm not a Jedi of the Order/I'm not a Jedi" from back then and the skewed perception the galaxy still held of what it means to be a Jedi.

This is a character flaw/internal conflict in storytelling of avoiding facing one's internal conflicts and issues for x reason and different methods! (Which Ahsoka is allowed to have cause I feel like the appreciation and love for her character sometimes overshadows people letting her being able to have flaws like this or make mistakes)

Ahsoka's world was shaken again when she caught Anakin's presence in Darth Vader (someone she thought was dead this whole time and had no idea he'd turned), and then again when the truth was revealed to her. We see through season 2 of Rebels that Ahsoka still holds a lot of self-placed guilt and blame for what happened to Anakin. In that confrontation she still clings to that and her mindset of "I'm not a Jedi of the Order/I'm not a Jedi" when faced with yet another emotional conflict alongside physical.

But, through this time, Ahsoka met Kanan and Ezra (and the rest of the Ghost crew). She saw a bit of those two claiming the title of Jedi and doing things/follow teachings of before, but also they were just themselves and made being into a Jedi whatever they made of it. They found the balance. We see Ahsoka come out the shell, especially in the World Between Worlds, and take a step forward for herself when she needs to help Ezra. To help Ezra's loss, she must face her own for a moment.

Now there's time missing between after Exegol and then finding Sabine after the Battle of Lothal that we don't know what she was doing. But in the time between what we do know that occurred was Luke and Leia appeared in the rebellion with their lineage revealed, Darth Vader was killed, and the Empire fell. Vader's death probably sat heavy on Ahsoka, especially if she spoke to Luke about it seeing as they know each other in BOBF.

Now does Ahsoka face her conflict yet? No. Instead she turns to trying to help find Ezra. She tries to take on Sabine as an "apprentice" and "move forward" but it went badly because Ahsoka (and also Sabine by the implications) still hadn't faced her internal issues and that let to friction and relenting to avoid things again by breaking off the bond and going back to being by herself. So by the start of this show she's still dealing with not facing these issues, but now it's becoming inevitable and Hera is gently pushing her (and Sabine) to face their issues; together they can help each other.

TL;DR:

Ahsoka has never taken the time to face her identity issues, guilt, and internal conflicts. With it bearing down on her she relents to attitudes and mindsets that have been a pattern of avoidance of facing them/never giving herself the time to with all that's happened to her. And that's the whole point here is that Ahsoka and Sabine emotionally grinded against each other by not opening up and avoiding things, but now they're going to be on a journey of facing it together now.

[lunatrics]

⋆ ┊ . ℒ ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ♡ 𝓐 𝓕𝓐𝓡 - 𝓞𝓕𝓕 𝓜𝓔𝓜𝓞𝓡𝓨◞ still accepting ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ prompt ​ ⤸ @sanyemi

[ MESS ]  our muses are supposed to be cleaning up in the shower after sex,  but sender starts to finger receiver.  SANEMI actually, they're supposed to be cleaning up in a random river after a gunky fight that got a little too generous-   & given the necessity of avoiding being bled into, sanemi's scrubbing giyuu's back down like a feral son of a bitch - keeps black from seeping red into the pucker of torn skin near his spine. it might also be that the faster he works, the faster this stupidly gorgeous man can stop being naked within arm's reach. --stupid & gorgeous.  ----stupid. stupid.    "could you, stop- fucking- hiding-" shoveshoveSHOVE at an arm crossed across a chest that's just like his own. dipshit. bet he could make him swoon, though. just a little. ( the scuff of his repurposed haori leaves red skin in its wake. white soaks through until it is pinkish, bundled around a sad limp little ponytail. ) bet if he wrapped his arms around this weirdly prudish motherfucker there'd be plenty of cause for him to do that little, that little,-   gasp / tense / melt back into his chest Thing that sanemi knows he can inspire- but, eh. uhm. y'know- just in case tomioka's a little harder to impress, we're not trying it out. also it would be fucking weird & that's his shtick. "lemme get this over with- fuck-" [ ooc ] y'know i'm taking liberties idk if he's prudish around men retcon whatever u want :joy:

Being naked hadn't been much of an issue in the past. Oddly calm in uncomfortable circumstances ; when related to his job or health. Stripping down to tend to wounds had been easy. Shinobu called him out on this once, and he'd quickly retreated -- clothes back on before she could tend to his injury. Was it really that weird?

He's beginning to understand. Giyuu's expression had stilled, and twisted, in subtle horror as Shinazugawa took his clothes off ; it took him awhile to follow suit. It was different. That's all.

It was only as Shinazugawa yelled at him from across the river that he noticed the distance he'd put between them. Giyuu goes still. Again. He didn't want to go closer ... it was embarrassing?

He was content to clean himself. Keep his back turned away. But instead, he's doing all he can to keep a straight face as Shinazugawa scrubs down his back. Hard. Too hard. Comical how Giyuu's head falls, twitches in his expression ; it was nice of him to do this. But did he have to be so rough?

Not only that ...

Giyuu can't keep still. He never thought much about being exposed in the presence of his comrades ... not for things like this ... and yet ... any chance he got, he tried to sink into the water, keep his chest out of view, fold arms across his body as Shinazugawa tries to push them apart.

❝ I don't want to. ❞ Maybe it's hard to tell at times, but, his lips pull down. He wouldn't say he's sulking. It's just ... ❝ It's embarrassing. Also, you're being too rough. ❞ But thank you for helping him clean the blood off him. Shinazugawa was different. He didn't need to understand that feeling completely to realise how heat threatened his cheeks. How awkward (more so then usual) he became.

This time, he side steps the attempts. And a long pause ensues. Blink. Once, and then twice. Different. Very different.

[sassypotatoe1]

So like before varsity the only times my chronic pain got really bad was when I was on my period, ovulating or when I was doing endurance sports like cross country. Then I went to varsity out of town and the chronic pain started to develop into more areas of my body and got triggered much easier.

I had already experienced allodynia from high school, particularly when I would rest against the back of the wooden chairs in school or stand up and press my thighs into the seats slightly. In varsity everything became an allodynia trigger. People couldn't touch my shoulders or hands or hug me around my shoulders or ribs. A feather light touch became a beating with a wooden cane. Don't ask me how I know what that feels like but I'm sure you can guess yourself anyway.

By my fourth year in varsity I was in so much pain constantly, which I ascribed to the possibility of endometriosis and me being underweight, which did contribute don't get me wrong but I don't think that was the full reason.

When I moved back home after varsity I had figured out how to manage my pain, what the triggers are, how to avoid them, what to take for what kind of pain, when to just take a hot bath and sleep it off. My parents never saw my chronic pain. They didn't know how much I was hurting constantly. They'd never seen me in a flare up.

So Monday I'm at my sickest with a really bad flu, and I'm at my highest level of pain, except it's not just a specific area, it's from my scalp down to my toes. Because flu causes inflammation of all the soft tissues for some reason, and given the fact that I'm already almost always inflamed to some degree and I have allodynia, it's feeling like a never ending tank is rolling over my body.

I was servicing my car with my dad, because it had to be done, but I'm sitting down every 5 minutes or less because I'm in so much pain I can't breathe unless I'm sitting down. My dad gets annoyed because he wants to finish servicing my car so I grit my teeth and push through.

Later, I go to the kitchen to get rye crackerbread to eat something before I can take my meds, and he's in the kitchen with a friend and I'm limping because holy shit why won't my body stop attacking itself already, and he goes "why are you limping like that?" so I go "because everything and I mean EVERYTHING hurts so bad" and he, probably for the first time in my life, sees me in a flare.

I'm walking like a grandma with Parkinsons for reference, and I can make that reference because my grandma with Parkinsons walked like that before she passed. He's never seen me in this much pain and he's known me for almost 26 years. And I've been in pain almost all of it.

That's the first time I unmasked my pain around him in my life. I think I scared him shitless. I recently heard a story where he wouldn't let people hold me as a newborn because he was scared they'd cause me pain. I think if I'd known that much earlier in my life he would have known how much pain I was in from the start.

I think if he'd known that he, his father and by virtue of genetics both his children are hypermobile, and that growing pains are not a common experience to the degree all of us experienced it, he wouldn't have thought my early childhood pain issues were normal and would have tried to help me instead of trying to make me toughen up. I think he would have let himself rest through his own flares.

[hover-ing]

tumblr.com/hover-ing/784298761249865728/because-of-a-conversation-irl-i-had-about-what-if

How did we get here? I understand this was a real life conversation, but im so currious.

I don't really know how to condense the whole thing into something digestible.

Basically, like that one magic anon thing earlier in the blog, it's her fucking with SkyWarp while he's trying to Warp but instead of them both universe hopping it's just her since she isn't physically attached to him or in his cockpit or anything. She just gets yeeted through time and space.

She ends up on the Lost Light, that's kind of a mess, cus how does one even explain that? And also the horrific realization that everyone you know and love is gone, potentially forever. She finally got to be happy and now it's been ripped out from under her and her world crashed around her so fast she didn't even get to see it. She didn't have time to mourn or work through or any of that shit.

She's also gotta look at Megatron, on top of everything else stressful, and know it's not HER Megatron. This guy doesn't know her no matter how much she wants to reach out for SOME kind of comfort in this shit hole of a situation. In reality, after the initial panic of 'where am I!? Who r u!?' she's pretty chill about it because she's got hope that BrainStorm can figure a way to send her back, but the longer that takes the more she freaks out about it. She starts having melt downs and ripping into herself (literally) so she ends up forced to spend time with First Aid, who she initially brushes off as not worth her time and 'too soft', and the way he's built just kind of physically hurts because she's reminded of Rumble, who actually COULD make her feel better and is aware that it's not fair that she's mad at him for not being someone else and tries to keep pushing him away. Hangs out with Drift a bit because she needs someone else who GETS IT and shed liked him from the start because of his sprectal religious stuff. Never tells him too much past surface level issues because she doesn't wanna dump that on him.

It kinda comes to a boil when she's having a meltdown down that Aid CANT fix and Megatron has to step in about it because she's physically lashing out at people who get too close to her and she kinda just falls apart when he picks her up. Had wanted to restrain her but it becomes apparent it's not even necessary. She's just really shit at self regulation and she's mourning an entire universe of people but mostly her found family and that she's aware now that not conjunxing SkyWarp when she could have just because she didn't want him to see her gross pathetic human life was a STUPID reason and she fully SQUANDERED what she had cus she thought she had forever. Figured he'd either move on and get bored of her- proving her right- or she'd eventually get over the shame of her old life or just forget it over time and maybe do it. A fresh shame about the FWB thing she had with Rumble while she knew Sky and her had a thing going on that she was trying to keep at an arms length by doing that. Misses having people she can comfortably go to when she's touch starved or overwhelmed. Just all of it.

Ends up actual friends with First Aid when she learns he's actually kind of a little freak and it humanizes him to her. Actually goes to Megatron when she needs to just be with someone instead of actively avoiding him like before. Sits in his lap when hes working and kind of sees Rodimus like a less bitey StarScream; gets him to fuck off sometimes for Megs.

Toyed with the idea that all forms of interface exist but in this instance plug and play is used more like a Gameboy connection in this instance and Megatron gets First Aid to get him a cord that specifically connects processors, so Hover has to go through the spark bond brain meld thing but without the romance or sex part so she's seen Megatron's entire life first hand and vice versa now. So there's no hiding anything and he gets her more than anyone else. DadBot acquired.

The thing with Rung was because of he's on the ship

(Understand I have a completely canon and fanwiki understanding of Lost Light)

She would actively hate and blame him if she finds out HES Primus of all people. She doesn't care what excuse he has for failing everyone cus it's still his responsibility and therefore his fault. Even worse if people keep trying to get her to go to him for her problems. He thinks she's mad at him for the time/space shenanigans but she freaks out at him and tells him the real reason she hates him.

Either way, I think if she's truly stuck in the LL universe, and Megs gets the neurolink with her, he'd get BrainStorm to make her a new body that he designs for her so she can adjust better to a new life. Especially since her body was meant to be temporary based on how it's set up currently.

[mystiika]

@freezegirl — continued from here.

❝ i'm not into labels. ❞

honestly, khione commends warren for not breaking out in hives the moment he stepped through the front door.

(or, you know, straight up turning around and walking away. this is still gwen grayson's neighborhood, after all.)

while khione's parents call their home 'classic, yet modest', khione herself knows damn well that the goossens house is big. bigger than most.

not everyone comes equipped with the ability or the energy to deal with the opulence.

(her parents would have a conniption if they knew about this but last she heard from them, dad was in the azures and mom was in dubai. and, really, this is a study session: medulla's given them a documentary to watch on mad science.)

"cool, pun not intended this time around." khione's laying upside down on the couch. feet in the air, head hanging off the side. very unbecoming, because a goossens is a goossens inside and outside the house. very pippi longstockings. "i think it takes a lot of strength and mental fortitude to do that."

khione doesn't have such strength. at least, she doesn't think so.

"i've always leaned into the labels people gave me: the perfect daughter, a strong cryo user, the ice princess. it's always been easier to just go along with it instead of pushing back to challenge them."

that, and khione's always been a people pleaser.

"do you maybe want to stay for dinner? i could go for some indian food, to be honest. i mean, you know, the documentary was terrible but i like to think that my selection of movies isn't."

he'll admit, when he received the invite he hadn't expected the scale of her place. he'd recognised her last name from the start, but it's difficult to really picture what that actually entails. not that it bothered him, his expression calm as it gets, though it was still hard not to stare around him. his mother's family was better off than most people realise but his mother hated the idea of an oversized home so he'd only ever been in a grandiose house because of his maternal grandparents. & even then, they never cared for him ( or rather more accurately by extension of his father ) so he could count on one hand the number of times he'd been over. 

still, if they were going to pair up for school work he'd much rather go to kie's place than his own — something about inviting someone over felt a little too uncomfortable.

❝ people stick the labels they want on me no matter what i do, ❞ albeit they were more negative than those khione's, but they were ones he'd been given regardless. ❝ people are fucking stupid, it's not worth the effort. ❞ he hates the labels, good or bad. the sins of the father will be passed on to his children, he thinks to himself. but he's always been quick to anger which only fed into things. he wouldn't call it strength, it's just what was necessary for him.

❝ sure, ❞ he's confident his mom would have no issues with him staying out longer. he hadn't mentioned it was a girl's home but that was more to avoid annoying, pointed questions than it was out of worry she wouldn't allow it. she wasn't a helicopter mom exactly but rather just a bit too nosy for his liking. ❝ i'll eat anything spicy. ❞ besides, the idea of an actually decent movie as a palette cleanser sounded pretty good right about now. ❝ i'll do anything but romance. i've never seen the notebook & kind of want to keep it that way. ❞ not that he expected khione to suggest one, but he figured he may as well rule it out now. ❝ —what do you usually go for? ❞

[eats-a-berry]

so, all of this is very connected, of not only being japanese but a very by the book guy at that ("his compliance has always made me anxious"). he follows social rules and convention the point of detriment to himself and the people around him. he's the type of guy who will usually go to great lengths to avoid disrupting social order or cause a fuss, he doesn't push very hard on things and is conflict avoidant at heart, so he lets emotions and grudges fester instead of confronting them. it's definitely not an aside, it's both apart of his character flaws and strong reflection of adherance to social rules, in comparison to laios' lack thereof.

sure, he could correct laios on his name... but he could also tell him when he wants to leave because he's tired or overwhelmed, not tell "white lies", or otherwise be more direct with him in general... but, we know it's not as simple as that! doing all that, to push, would be rude. and he doesn't want to be rude.

this sort of behavior is something that's still very connected to the cultural stuff, as it has to do with a few things. it's not strictly that, because, again, he's at a more extreme end than most people. in japan, the concept of keeping the peace to maintain harmony in social groups is very important, and it's often considered rude to be more direct with things, which... is something that laios usually needs in order to understand. he is trying to communicate with laios, and does in fact try to intervene in the same panel we even see him mishearing things!

and it's laios who doesn't actually stop for a moment to properly listen to what he's saying, which ties into his primary issue with laios being what he percieves as carelessness. so, being a bit of a defeatist as well, he just accepts his fate, since it's not like he was planning to ever see this guy again.

other concepts that tie into these kinds of interactions with him are the importance of saving face, especially in regards for other people. so, something like correcting not only laios, but everyone, after all that time they had been completely butchering his name... would likely be embarrassing for everyone involved (laios fucked up, the issue snowballed, but he didn't want to say anything because now it's just what everyone calls him because he and laios are both circus clowns. obviously, it's silly that it's ended up as far as it did, but like, it's interesting that he'd rather just let it be...!) this is definitely something that would come up a LOT in his interactions with laios. there's also the mindset he has about endurance, where it's seen as more noble to suffer through hardships without a fuss than to complain about it. and of course, we've got his bread and butter, honne and tatemae:

so, i mean, yeah. the issues he has cause issues, but he also just wants to do what he's known as the respectful and polite, self controlled thing at the cost of his own comfort. he does take things very far, but even the whys are culturally influenced and i have sympathy for him because he has issues, y'know? (everyone can acknowledge falin's pushover qualities are sympathetic, so i see the same in him since their issues are extremely similar.) even so, we know the rigid extent of things isn't good for anyone involved, which is why he's put in the position he is, but a lot of it is still understandable... and if he can put aside all these less important things to keep things the way they are, even if he wants them to change, that's fine with him... but what it's led to is everything boiling over and hurting everyone involved.

after all, the name thing has never really been at the forefront here, it's all an accumulation of so many small miscommunications built up...

Look, as much as I want to have sympathy for Toshiro and the fact he was raised in a high context culture that makes it difficult to properly communicate with Laios, you have to wonder how much of his own suffering is purely self inflicted considering he didn’t even bother to correct Laios about his name when he asked Toshiro to join the party.

Like, how long was Toshiro a member before Falin got eaten by the red dragon? Months, a year? And he just let the whole party get his name wrong the entire time he was with them.

And he would had to sign contracts and other sorts of official documents when he joined the party. Did he just sign it with “Shuro” instead of his actual name, because I feel like someone would have brought up the fact that the name on his contract doesn’t match what they’ve been calling him. (Also raises the questions on whether or not they’d be legally binding if he didn’t use his real name.)

Toshiro had so many opportunities to correct not just Laios, but the whole party about his real name, and never took them.

Make you wonder many other misunderstandings and awkward situations could have been easily resolved if he said literally anything.

[spikedsoul]

maid's worst nightmare - ch 25

okay, near daily updates will probably stop soon, just so everyone knows, but that doesn't mean the story is done or i'm abandoning it! y'all will just get them randomly, sorry 😅

previous chapters

@sovereign-of-succ

Bowser needed to say something, anything, to save a little face after just blurting something like that. It was true, sure - you were fucking gorgeous! But the way it just slipped out instead of a smooth, suave delivery was baffling him.

Peach was a pretty woman. Incredibly pretty, to the point he kept trying to marry her. But he never had an issue being suave with Peach. Ever. He was always so composed around her, had good lines - hell, even if he was a bit of a fool somehow, he was always able to recover enough to play it off! He was supposed to be a master at this stuff, damn it, he's had years to practice!

Then you came along. Unassuming, unimportant, easily scared… and, what? A little makeup and a dress was suddenly enough to make him stupid? That was not how it was supposed to go and he hated it.

He loved it.

Just as he opened his mouth to finally say something, there was a sharp knock at the door. You jumped at the noise and took a subconscious step toward him as you looked toward the door.

"Open," he called, carefully pulling you to his side and out of the way as the koopas responsible for lunch bustled in. A sense of smugness settled in his chest at your reaction to the scare; it was a more familiar feeling so he absolutely jumped on it.

"Not a date, huh," you said before he could say anything. He smirked a bit, watching his minions put a tablecloth on the table before finally setting out a mouth-watering lunch.

"Just because two single people are sharin' a nice meal, don't mean it's a date," he pointed out with a soft snicker. Good, he was definitely feeling more like himself!

But the sly look you gave him had his stomach twisting in uncertainty.

"Says the man who tried to back away through a wall when he saw me," you said under your breath to him.

His spikes rattled as he fought to keep them down, and he scowled at the fact he couldn't stop the noise. "Shut up," he hissed softly.

Finally, the koopas scurried out, leaving him alone with you once again. He immediately got his hands on your waist to push you toward your seat, but to his mild surprise, you didn't fight him. You blushed, but you didn't fight.

"So," you stated, situating yourself as he pushed the chair closer to the table for you.

This oughta be good.

He hummed curiously, making his way to his own chair; it creaked slightly under his weight as he sat.

You took your glass of wine, inspected it, then took an experimental sip before asking, "You think I'm pretty?"

Well, at this point, there was no use hiding it, or the blush that apparently insisted on settling on his face. "Beautiful," he confirmed with a nod.

Fucking damn it, that was about to make it worse.

"Why?" Although you fixed your gaze to his face, he could tell you were avoiding his eyes, which he was a little grateful for. This wasn't a question he really knew how to answer, but he supposed this was what dates were all about…

Fuck, this was more pressure than he'd imagined. But maybe he could sort of cheat his way through this? He'd give it a try.

"Why not?" he snorted, reaching for his own wine.

You pursed your lips, clearly not very happy with his response. He could live with that.

"Because Rodney made me think I wasn't worth anyone's time and he was with me out of pity."

He couldn't live with that.

"Well he's wrong," he snarled, surprising you both. You didn't jump, at least, but you tilted your head at him. He ducked his head and started to pick at the food.

"Bowser," you said softly. A pleasant tingle shot over his scales at the gentle way you said his name, not for the first time.

"Eat before it gets cold," he sighed, sitting back in his chair a bit. Behind him, his tail flicked, though the movement was a bit restricted from the chair. "He is wrong, sweetheart. On the base surface level, strictly physically speakin', you're pretty - no matter how you see yourself, you're pretty."

You blushed and looked down at your food. To his relief, you picked up your silverware to eat, allowing him a little time to gather his thoughts. The more thoughts he gathered, though, the more he felt his face heat up.

After you both had gotten a few bites down, he sighed heavily. "Um… I'm gonna sound like a dick because I'm gonna compare you to Peach, but it ain't like I got��� y’know, much experience," he mumbled.

"Well, to be fair, I'm pretty sure that's entirely your fault because of your obsession with her," you jabbed lightly.

He smirked at first, but as your comment settled in his brain he looked at you quizzically. What did you mean? Were you suggesting that if he wasn't so focused on Peach that he'd have more dating experience…?

"Right…" Fuck it, he'd have to ask later. "Um… Okay." He took another sip of wine to steady himself. "Besides your exterior, your personality is, uh–" he cleared his throat a little "-attractive. Even though I really meant it, you didn't have any reason to believe I'd actually protect you–"

"That's not true," you interrupted. He blinked in surprise. "You'd already helped me through some terrors, and the way you snapped at him was a gut reaction. It was too abrupt to be anything but. So… yeah."

Bowser's jaw worked uselessly a few times before he heaved a sigh, one of his hands going to his cheek as if to hide the deep blush that settled. You were right, of course. Fuck.

He swallowed a bit; suddenly he was vaguely afraid of where the conversation might end up taking his mind. But he had to keep going.

"A-and then the way ya interact with me genuinely despite the fact I'm a huge beast of a king that kidnapped you…" He rubbed the back of his neck and trailed his hand up through his mane. "Not afraid to joke with me, or be close to me… it's refreshin' to feel like an equal, I guess. Peach is cordial when she's here, like we're sorta friends by this point, but she still acts like she's better than me. No jokes, forced smiles… there's a sorta distance there. But you don't hesitate."

He hadn't really wanted to admit that, but after spending not even a week with you it was such a glaring problem that he couldn't ignore it anymore. Most of Peach's actions toward him seemed to be out of pity.

His claw lightly tapped his wine glass as he gathered up the courage to voice one of the harshest reality checks he's had in a while: "I don't feel so lonely with ya."

Finally, too embarrassed to keep going, he lowered his head to keep eating, feeling for all the world like he was a teenager again trying to confess to Peach for the first time.

But this time, his heart felt like it was trying to win a kart race with the help of a golden mushroom. It didn't help that he could smell the embarrassment rolling off of you, but the underlying scent of happiness made it a little more bearable. He definitely preferred the scents of contentment and happiness on you, and it seemed that as big of a blue shell as it was for him to have that realization, it actually brought you a sense of calm.

When he peeked up at you, you were smiling into your wine, eyes on your plate.

Fuck, he could get used to seeing you across the table from him. Even your bashful smile was something he'd quietly treasure, because he was the one who put it there. On accident, no less! It seemed so easy to make you smile, as easy as it was to make you blush.

He could only imagine the sort of blush you'd have when he had you cu–

"Can I ask you a few things?" you murmured, mercifully derailing his rapidly devolving train of thought.

He rumbled softly in an automatic response. "Sure, sweetheart. I'll do my best to answer."

[daybreakx]

ANOTHER PLACE: THE SECRET

☓ victor! seonghwa x victor!fem reader.

☓ hunger games au, angst.

☓ warnings: third person pov, violence, blood, vomit, weapons, hunger games stuff. og characters are there too, inaccuracies to the books/movies. please ignore the mistakes this may have♡ this part has explicit mentions of suicide, please be careful while reading or avoid it altogether.

☓ word count: 4.93k

☓ a/n: this one took a while sorry! feedback is appreciated! praying once again this shows up on the tags.

taglist: @ohmyateez​, @little-kpop-plant​.

prev // next // masterlist

The first thing he was aware of was the stinting on his arm. Seonghwa couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, afraid he'd find himself in an all-too-familiar Capitol facility. But the truth was, he knew he wasn't in one. He remembered how he'd been lifted off the arena as it crashed and burned around him. Still, he shut his eyes tighter before a thought fell over him as quickly as the dizziness hit his body when he sat straight, he didn't know if they had gotten y/n out.

He got up, yanking away the IV needle from his right hand, he was out of the charred Tribute uniform he’d worn for the past few days and in a light blue patient robe. Finnick was still unconscious on a gurney beside him, his face and hair were filthy, and he smelled a bit of burnt meat, much like Seonghwa. Both had been too close to the Tree when the lightning came down, and he had taken a good hit of electricity. Seonghwa hadn't been able to stop him, and in all honesty, he cared more about knowing y/n's whereabouts than Finnick's. 

With a grunt, he walked to the exit’s sliding door, holding his side tightly, he waited patiently for it to open. Everything was going to be alright. Finnick was out, and so was he, y/n was probably with Johanna and Katniss in another chamber... but where was Peeta then?

It wasn't like him to feel anxious, not even after the horrible nightmares he'd get when he won his first Games. Seonghwa had managed to bottle everything up, to tear small pieces and lock them away, in a place where he wouldn’t find them. Though he always did. He'd usually get through the day in one piece, pushing the intrusive thoughts away until nighttime rolled by again, and he knew he'd see the faces of all the children he'd murdered to survive.

But this feeling on his chest—this pressure—was a bad omen, and he was afraid of what it would mean once he crossed the doors to the control room of the Hovercraft.

Plutarch and Haymitch eyed him up and down as he stepped inside, the first one grimaced slightly before returning his attention to the screen by the front of the room. He didn't want to face the promise he hadn't kept.

"Huh," Haymitch started, "the pretty boy made it."

Seonghwa didn't bother to give him a dirty look. Instead, he gripped his ribs tighter as he limped to a chair, clutching the back of it tightly, he felt the pressure on his chest growing stronger. "Where is she?"

Haymitch raised his eyebrows and adjusted the beanie on his head. He reeked of alcohol and sweat, and Seonghwa's stomach turned in its emptiness, he struggled not to gag. "How many of these conversations are we going to have, Plutarch?"

"What do you mean?" Seonghwa hissed, pulling the chair he was still holding and getting it out of his way as he walked closer to the table.

Plutarch finally turned to face Seonghwa, not without giving Haymitch a pointed look, he clasped his hands together. "There were some... issues."

"Where is she?" Seonghwa questioned once again, his knuckles wrapped around the chain so tightly they protested in pain.

"We couldn't get them out, not all of them... Peeta, Johanna, y/n..." Plutarch explained slowly, at least he tried to look sorry as his eyes dropped from Seonghwa’s. "They're at the Capitol. I– I am sorry".

The knot on Seonghwa's chest finally came loose. He was feeling so much and nothing at all. He was furious—with Plutarch, with Haymitch, even with Finnick, but he was most furious with himself. All that he had wanted from the very start was to get y/n out of that arena safely, and he had failed. "You said you would get her out!" his hand came down on the table with such force that he felt it go numb, "You said Coin would rather have Peeta out! She was with him."

Both Haymitch and Plutarch hushed him immediately, their sympathy for him vanishing. The man from District Twelve pulled the chair closer to Seonghwa, and forced him to sit down as he grabbed his shoulder. "You don't say things like that," he warned through gritted teeth.

It was the truth, Plutarch had said so himself when he'd told Seonghwa all about whatever was going to happen in the Hunger Games. When you spend so much time at the Capitol, you meet a lot of people, and Seonghwa happened to meet Plutarch Heavensbee in a meeting with the rest of the incredibly rich people Seonghwa tended to frequent against his will. He'd soon gained Heavensbee's trust when he saw just how much Seonghwa despised the Capitol, the Games, and pretty much everything else about Panem.

They had made a deal before the Quell started, Seonghwa would help to keep the District Twelve kids safe and get them out of the arena as long as Plutarch took y/n with him. And although things took a turn once y/n had offered to take Annie Cresta's place in the Hunger Games, Seonghwa’s only condition remained the same: keep y/n safe. And Plutarch hadn't kept it.

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"I wish they were all dead," Finnick said as he sat down next to Seonghwa, they were back at the compartment in which they woke up, still on their way to District Thirteen. At least they were awake, unlike Katniss, who had to be sedated again after trying to attack Haymitch. Seonghwa wished she would have been successful at it, but as it turned out, it was another thing the universe denied him. "I wish we were all dead too. That would be best" Finnick rubbed his eyes and then returned his hands to his lap, where he closed them in fists, letting his nails sink on the palms.

In the end, they had taken Annie from him too.

"I don't," Seonghwa said. His mind was still twisting and turning, although he was unsure whether it was because of the remains of the morphling in his system, the concussion, or because he couldn't process the fact that everything had failed to protect the only person he'd meant to. "If Snow's got them, they're still alive, and I will not rest until they're finally safe."

Finnick frowned, opening his hands, he stared at the bloody half-moons his nails made. "You were really trying to help her," he sighed, "Why?"

Finnick was certain Seonghwa had never even spoken to y/n before the Quell, although they were all mentors at the Games after y/n had won hers. They had crossed in hallways, sure. Met at dinners and events, and probably shared more than one acquaintance at the Capitol. But Finnick had never seen them hold a conversation before the Tribute Parade. Capitol Sweethearts were collectible, but that didn’t make them friends.

Seonghwa gave him a weak smile. "So Mags really kept my secret, huh?"

Finnick's frown deepened. "What?"

　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　

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It was Seonghwa’s first time as a Mentor at the Hunger Games. Enobaria and Brutus had taken the spot the previous years, but after Brutus became 'unavailable'—according to the Gamemakers—Seonghwa had to take his place. It was also part of Snow's plan to display him to the public, get people to know Seonghwa better, and make him the shiny new toy. It had never mattered how much he expressed his annoyance around everyone. A snarky comment would just get him an amused laugh from the people of the Capitol, and a comment about how people Victors from District Two were so alike. You just had to get through their layers, and then they were all yours.

Seonghwa decided to invest his energy into mentoring instead. After all, the kids' lives were in his hands, everything depended on his abilities as a Mentor which, being completely honest, weren't many. He'd met his tributes shortly after The Reaping. Both of them had volunteered, causing a disturbance between the already chosen Tributes, leaving the boy, Kyle, with a black eye and the girl, Biyu, without a patch of hair. 

Seonghwa shouldn’t have been surprised, these things always happened with Career Tributes. But when he was chosen for the Games, no one volunteered to go instead of him, he would have let them, instead of going on with the massacre to return home. Yet, these kids had beat each other's asses to gain a place in the train leading to their deaths.

Enobaria had always questioned him about it, he had been raised as a Career, and he hadn't volunteered, unlike most of the previous Victors. Kids from District Two were desperate to prove themselves at the Hunger Games, that was their sole purpose in life. Seonghwa was sure that nobody had volunteered in his place because they wanted him dead. They probably underestimated how capable of killing he was, he knew he had. And he was not proud when he realized that he could and would kill to survive.

While Enobaria talked to their Tributes, Seonghwa sat in front of the TV, watching the re-run of The Reaping, where they gave insight into the year's chosen ones. Seonghwa paid little to no attention to them, he didn't want to get too familiar with the faces he'd see on TV as the Gamemakers announced their deaths and fought over whose ending had been more gruesome. 

The train ride seemed eternal as he listened to the two Tributes bicker over who would most likely win. They knew each other well, their strengths and weaknesses, and they were in the mindset that glory was all that mattered. They would kill each other even before the Games started.

"Where's Brutus?" Gloss questioned as he eyed Seonghwa once they were reunited in the Mentor room. All of the tributes were getting showers and what-not to meet their stylists.

"Nice to see you too." Seonghwa scoffed, plopping down the sofa the furthest away from the other Mentors. He couldn't even hear Enobaria's explanation of his presence. He observed the rest of the Mentors as they joined each other's conversations and laughed about past stories. Whatever rivalry could have separated them because of The Hunger Games was not there; they were survivors, they were friends.

Seonghwa was the outsider once again.

"Say," Kyle gripped Seonghwa's shoulder tightly to get his attention. "How did you get everyone to think you were charming in your interview?"

"I didn't act like this," Seonghwa squinted at Kyle's appearance. All the makeup that had been necessary to cover his black eye, the way they had styled his hair to push it out of his face made him look a lot older than he actually was. "Just —" he had to rethink the words that followed, "Make people feel like they want to see you to the very end. And don't fight with Biyu anymore, sponsors don't like that.” Or they did, it all depended on very specific expectations that nobody could meet completely. Seonghwa hadn’t been kind to his fellow Tribute because she hadn’t been kind to him. She had promised to the rest of the Careers that she would kill him.

Biyu appeared behind Kyle. Her black hair had been chopped short and combed sideways to cover the bald patch. She also looked a lot older than she was; the dramatic eyeliner and crimson lipstick repulsed Seonghwa a little bit. They had styled the girl from his District the same way on his Games. "Any advice for me, Mentor?" Biyu scoffed.

"Don't act like yourself either," Seonghwa shook his head, his eyes still taking in their appearance. There was so much to look at, it was distracting. "Try to seem at least a bit sympathetic."

Seonghwa turned off Biyu and Kyle's bickering as his eyes followed the rest of the Tributes, all wearing ridiculous costumes and chatting anxiously with their Mentors. He focused on Finnick and Mags, followed by their young tributes. The boy bombarded Mags with questions, while the girl chewed on her nails, quietly walking behind Finnick, who was giving her some advice but looked more like he was talking to himself. Seonghwa remembered Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith’s comments on them, how they seemed strong enough despite not being Careers. But they didn't look nearly as strong as District One or Two's Tributes. 

The girl turned to meet his gaze like she'd felt it, and held it for scarce seconds before rushing after Finnick.

Seonghwa knew she was going to die.

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Seonghwa couldn't even bring himself to scold his Tributes. Both had fought again before going into their interviews, and cameras had caught them. Even if they hadn’t, Biyu ripped a piece off Kyle’s outfit leaving a tear across his chest, and in retaliation, Kyle gave her a nosebleed. The rest of the Tributes had done a lot better, and it was turning out to be embarrassing for Seonghwa how much he seemed to fail at being a Mentor. 

Even the District Four girl he'd noticed earlier had done well. Seonghwa could see a bit of Finnick in her, the way she smiled at Caesar and the public, and despite her nervous ticks, did her best to pretend she enjoyed the attention.

The Games would begin the next day, and the truth was, neither Biyu nor Kyle had enough sponsors. Biyu had gotten one just because they said she looked 'blood-thirsty' like that was a good thing, and Kyle had one of his own too because he was physically the strongest of the twenty-four Tributes, but no one particularly liked them.

"Maybe I'll take your place as a Mentor next year," Kyle said during dinner, pointing at Seonghwa with this knife. He swallowed loudly and smiled.

"Yeah, I hope you do," Seonghwa muttered with disgust.

"Why him?!" Biyu dropped her cutlery with a loud noise. "It could be me! The Victor could be me!"

Enobaria gave Seonghwa an exasperated look before turning to Biyu. "It could be either of you. We know you will represent your District proudly".

"Of course you both will," Seonghwa agreed, regaining his composure. "Just focus on going back home."

Both Tributes scoffed. They weren't about returning home. For both, it was all about fame and fortune. Writing their names in history as the Tribute who'd shed more blood in the Games, or the one who had been more apt to survive. They had to prove they were born to become a Victor.

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The arena was a deserted city. With half destroyed buildings and rusted cars filling the streets, vines tried to take over the ruins, giving everything a nauseating green glow. Tributes would surely hurt themselves with the environment, and if that wasn’t enough, the aerial view showed a few animal-like shapes scurrying down alleys, Mutts.

Seonghwa held his breath as the countdown started, and the cameras panned to each Tribute individually. They focused on Biyu and Kyle for a moment, both of them shouting threats at each other and the other Tributes around. Then, the camera changed abruptly to where District Four's Tributes were standing on their platforms. The boy shouted something to the girl, and she shook her head repeatedly, waving her hands to make him stop, but he shut his eyes and jumped off the platform. The countdown wasn't over.

The first thing to blow off were his legs, followed by blood and guts, covering the Tributes around them, including the girl from his own District. She couldn't even scream before vomiting on the opposite side of the platform. There was laughter too—a nervous one— to push the hysteria away.

The boy had killed himself before anyone else could.

The countdown came to zero, and they were forced to toss their shock aside. Kyle and Biyu ran straight to the Cornucopia. Punching their way in, they grabbed the first weapons they could find, eager to end someone's life. Biyu was the first one, throwing a spear to District Three's girl, she killed her instantly. Kyle couldn't be left behind, as he picked up a small boy from District Eleven and snapped his neck quickly. They were beasts.

Seonghwa couldn't help but look for the District Four girl. She had barely been able to grab a backpack before running into the city. The cameras kept focusing on her face, her companion’s blood still dripping from it.

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Seonghwa had spoken to so many people in the last few hours that he felt drained. Still, barely anyone wanted to sponsor his tributes. Enobaria had tried too, and she'd just gotten one more person to be a sponsor for Kyle. Nobody liked either of them, and they preferred to spend their money on someone who actually had a chance, like District One's or District Seven's Tributes. 

He wasn't too worried. Biyu and Kyle were handling themselves well so far, a couple days after the Games started. Of course they had split up, they couldn't stand each other, but both had gotten their own alliance. Kyle was the Tribute with the most kills so far, but Biyu had her spear-throw on repeat in every cut and night-talk about the games. 

The girl from Four, whom he'd heard Finnick call "y/n" when trying to get her some sponsors, was still nowhere to be seen. She had climbed into an abandoned building and hadn't left. Apparently, her backpack had just enough things to survive, but not even those supplies would last forever.

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Biyu had made a mistake. She went back to The Cornucopia, searching for another backpack. And being her usual smug self, she hadn't taken enough precaution in watching out for other Tributes. The girl from District Five had set up a trap with the supplies, and after activating a mechanism from a safe distance, The Cornucopia had caught on fire, taking the remaining stockpile and Biyu's life with it.

Kyle did better for the next couple of days. With Biyu gone, he thought of himself as the Victor. He even asked his Mentors via one of the cameras inside to stop sending him help, he would prove what he was made of without them interfering. 

Y/n had already left her hiding spot, only to find that food and weapons were gone. Seonghwa learned that Mags and Finnick had gotten her some sponsors, and she received freshwater and some bread.  He also heard Finnick comment on how she wouldn't be able to keep hiding. The time would come when she would have to fight. She would have to kill.

It happened just a few hours later, when the Gamemakers released Mutts all over the city, leading the Tributes to the Town Square to battle each other. There were around twelve of them left. Kyle took down four while y/n killed a pair more.

Seonghwa remembered the look on her face to this day. How she had looked down at her blood stained hands, the scream that had ripped through the whole arena before she vomited again. y/n had tried to wipe the blood on her clothes, before wiping the vomit from her face but she only managed to smear it all over. She only came back to herself momentarily, to run away from Kyle, whose laugh echoed around the Town Square, as he threatened to break her neck.

Kyle's picture finally appeared on the recount of The Fallen on the fifth night. He had succumbed to the wounds a dog-like Mutt had inflicted on him. And with that, Seonghwa's job as a Mentor was done. To him, it had been a failure, but Enobaria—weirdly enough—consoled him, saying it hadn't been his fault that both Tributes were arrogant.

Seonghwa remained at the Capitol, assisting to Hunger Games viewing parties, per President Snow's orders, and trying his best to mingle. But he despised everyone he met, and he felt revolted at the propositions that came his way.

There were less than half Tributes left, and one of them was y/n. Seonghwa was secretly rooting for her, surprised at how far she'd made it when at first he'd thought she'd be one of the first to die. 

"We're so glad you decided to stay in the Capitol a little longer," one of the men said. His lips were painted purple, and his hair was a bright shade of pink. Seonghwa forgot his name the moment the man spoke it. "Are you enjoying these Games? I think the kid from District Five will win. I'm sorry she killed your Tribute, though." He cackled.

Seonghwa hid his scoff with a low chuckle, eyes wandering to the big screen in the middle of the room. It was midday in the Capitol, but the arena was in the middle of a sunset. Caesar and Claudius were chatting about what had happened throughout the day, while the camera focused on the remaining Tributes, wherever they were. 

"Oh, look!" Caesar leaned over his desk, looking at one of the screens closer "That's y/n, the girl from Four. Looks like she's not having the greatest night," he laughed. This made Seonghwa turn his full attention to the screen, tuning Capitol guy’s rambles out.

y/n was curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth. She had returned to her original hiding spot after the Town Square Battle. Apart from the breakdown she was clearly having, something was making her sick. Seonghwa didn't remember anything happening to her, no matter how much he focused on it.

"I just want to go home," she whimpered, covering her eyes with both hands and then, pulling on her hair. "I miss my friends, I miss my home... just, please..."

"Huh," the same man got Seonghwa's attention again, "I guess there's no way she can get the antidote. I thought Volt Brisker was her sponsor."

"The antidote for what?" Seonghwa sounded more alarmed than he would have liked.

"Oh, you didn't see that! I had never seen such colorful snakes! The Gamemaker's released more Mutts when she was trying to wash off the blood of her hands. Quite the scene, if you ask me, she was sobbing and mumbling, asking for forgiveness. Ridiculous, I’m glad she wasn't fast enough to get away from them."

"Mutts? Again?" Seonghwa clenched his jaw, already pushing down the anger this man’s words had caused him. He turned to look at the girl again, he noticed what was wrong this time: The skin on her fingers looked dry and cracked, like scales. "Why did she lose her sponsor?"

The man shrugged, "Told you, we're rooting for Number Five."

What Seonghwa planned to do was illegal. 

Once the Mentors' Tributes were out of the competition, they had to go back home. Or like Seonghwa, hang around the Capitol without messing with The Hunger Games anymore. But he was haunted by the girl’s desperate cries, and the picture of her slowly turning into a Mutt. She would surely die before that happened, but the way she’d agonize would give the Gamemakers and the public quite the show. Seonghwa couldn’t allow it.

With the excuse of wanting to see the Gamemakers and meet more of the Capitol people who hung around the Mentors, Seonghwa went back to the Game Center. He drove himself through useless conversations until he found the one person he'd been looking for: Mags was sitting by herself, her eyes focused on the screen that showed all of the tributes sleeping.

"Can I ask for a favor?" he questioned, sitting next to her after making sure Finnick wasn't close by. 

Mags eyed him carefully but nodded.

"Get your Tribute the antidote, and some food or whatever she needs to make it." Seonghwa found himself whispering quickly, almost desperately. 

Mags shook her head, sad eyes looking at her shoes, Seonghwa was barely able to make out the words she said, obviously explaining y/n didn't have any more sponsors. 

"I know," he replied, lowering his head to search for Mags’ eyes. "I will pay for them."

Mags’ whole demeanor changed, taking a single finger to her lips, she smiled against it. It was a secret, their secret from now on. One of the best things Seonghwa had ever done could never be spoken about.

Seonghwa was at another rich people's house the next day. Just in time to see his gift being delivered to y/n, much to the rest of the guests' disappointment. Her condition had gotten worse overnight, the scales now reached down to her forearm. Caesar Flickerman had asked several times that they showed her fever delirium on the screen, in which she called her loved one's names. There was one Yunho, someone named Maya, and a few others, she begged to go back to them. She was begging to live.

Seonghwa was furious.

Luckily, the antidote worked after a few hours. Y/n's fever was gone, but the scales remained on the skin. Seonghwa had saved her life, but she would have to save herself and kill once more, if she really wanted out of there. 

Another Tribute had died during the night after District Five's girl had found his hiding spot and sliced his throat in his sleep. The next day another one died, attacked by the same Mutts that took Kyle’s life. It was down to three.

Once again, they were driven out of their hiding places, at least two of them. y/n and the boy from Six, the girl from Five was outside most of the time, hunting them. Things happened quickly from there. The first one to go down was Six, Five focused on him first, strangling him with her own hands while y/n watched, horrified. She was gripping a knife tightly, pondering whether she could really murder another girl to buy her freedom, or let herself be killed after making it this far.

"Let's get this over with," Five groaned, not even taking a moment to catch her breath before launching herself at y/n.

Seonghwa noticed when y/n made her decision. It was like turning a switch, like she stopped feeling as she met Five’s tackle with her left shoulder. They rolled in a tangle of limbs, punching and scratching, biting and kicking. Five grabbed y/n by the hair, pushing her head down to the pavement, leaving a crack on the back that started bleeding right away. The cameras hadn’t caught the exact moment in which y/n retrieved the knife from her boot, using whatever strength she had left to sink it on the side of her rival’s neck. This time, she didn’t scream, her eyes unfocused while she gasped for hair. It took six minutes for the last cannon to go off, while both girls agonized on the ground. But finally, y/n’s picture appeared on the sky announcing her as the Victor.

Seonghwa had consoled the ones that had been betting on Five as best as he could, they didn’t care about the life that had been lost, but the money they weren’t able to get their hands on. He was happy y/n had survived, but he knew better than anyone how hard it would be to live from now on, with the ghost of what she'd done, and what had been done to her, following every step of the way.

Seonghwa met Mags again that night, before the celebratory dinner. y/n was taken to the hospital to heal her wounds as best as they could before she had to be presented as the new Victor. The scales on her arm remained, no matter how much the stylists struggled to cover them up, Seonghwa noticed, and how they had let her hair down and accessorized the bandage around her head to make it fashionable, to take the ‘weakness’ it gave off.

Mags had given him a hug and whispered thank you, repeating the gesture of 'secret' before walking away to meet Finnick, who hugged her immediately. Both were filled with relief that they would be able to take the girl back home.

Seonghwa couldn't stay there any longer, and he didn't want to. He just waited long enough for y/n to come out with Finnick and Mags by her side, the former whispering something in her ear that made her shut her eyes before smiling. A crude, humorless smile that made the people of the Capitol break into cheers.

Seonghwa had saved her in her first Games and had failed to get her out of the others. He didn't think he could forgive himself for failing, not when it came to her.

[joaquinwhorres]

doodles (Joaquin Torres x Reader, Soulmate!AU)

PAIRING ››››› Joaquín Torres x GN!Reader

REQUEST ››››› ya know the soulmate au alphabet? Could i request Torres + b and w from the alphabet?

b...ody art (doodles that a person draws on themselves appear on their soulmate’s skin). g...uardian (it is said that the person who saves you from a near-death experience is your soulmate—drowning, car crash, etc.)

WORD COUNT ››››› 1,255

WARNINGS ››››› none

A/N ››››› Sooo I kind of cheated by combining the two letters. Also the writing style is kinda different from my usual story work, but hopefully both risks pan out.

The first picture to ever blossom on his skin is a bird.

The other boys in class have flowers and suns and clouds and little stick figure girls and boys, but he has a bird. And while theirs are sketchy and smudged and disproportionate, his looks as if it's been plucked from a picture book with its steady lines and cartoonish detail.

He'd been surprised to find it, nestled into the crook of his elbow, only appearing when he raised his hand to answer a question. He's so used to seeing his friends with images that littered the backs of their hands and wrists and thighs, he’d never thought to check anywhere else.

A thought crosses his mind.

More than crosses.

It takes over.

He knows he isn't supposed to.

If his teacher catches him, he'll get into trouble. He's not even supposed to have a pen in class. The rule's supposed to help kids avoid the temptation of sending off doodles to their soulmates. Of course, like all school rules, kids find a way around it, keeping pens tucked away in pockets and backpacks and lunch bags.

He's never been one to break the rules, but this feels like he has to. His soulmate's out there somewhere, waiting for him. It only feels right to assure them that he's waiting for them too.

Joaquin pulls the pen he keeps tucked in his desk in hopes of just such an occasion and quietly uncaps it. Carefully and stealthily, he drags the pen tip across his skin, eyes darting up to track the teacher’s movements and make sure he doesn't get caught. As a result, the drawing isn't very good. The head's too big for the body and the feet too long. He’d attempted to draw the wing twice, leaving the lines thicker than the rest of the bird. But it's there, facing the first and chirping out a note, so they know he's alive and thinking of them in this moment. And that had to feel nice.

He sticks the pen back in his desk, looking up at the board and quickly copying down the problems he’s almost missed. It's not until he reaches forward to pass in his paper that he notices the addition to the doodle. Two eighth notes tweet out from the first bird.

He smiles.

It becomes increasingly clear that his soulmate’s an artist.

Most people don’t have doodles on their arms and palms anymore. Instead they have drawings sketched into places only they can see--secret notes passed between soulmates. But his body is littered with art.

Intricate patterns bloom across the back of his hand, and twist and twirl up his arm. His forearm becomes a comic strip. Constant commentary on their day or whatever social issues are on their mind. Sometimes they leave a panel open for him to finish. His drawing hasn’t improved much from the first bird.

He wishes he could send along words of praise or encouragement even though he knows words won’t go through.

He wishes that they would use this gift to pass along messages like just about everyone else his age does. But all attempts at starting a conversation like that have gone unanswered. Instead, he simply gets to witness their art and their life play out across his skin. And Joaquin has learned to be content with that.

Because while other kids are coordinating their futures around their soulmates and tailoring all plans to match the other’s, he gets to make his decisions free. He gets to sign up for the Air Force ROTC without a shred of guilt or pushback like some of the other cadets have to deal with.

Their doodles are what keeps him grounded. Throughout basic and his first deployment, their delicate designs and drawings keep him company in those moments when he feels absolutely alone. They make him feel human in moments where he’s asked to be inhuman.

Their art has saved his life more than once too. The obvious doodles keeping him from doomed missions and distracting him for just long enough to avoid disaster. But more than those obvious, blood running cold, vomiting from how close it was moments, the doodles save his life because they are a constant.

He’s not the only one who appreciates the art either. The others in his unit laugh at the comics his soulmate still draws on his arms. They marvel of the intricacy of his soulmate’s work. On how they’re able to create such a detailed band of wild flowers around their own tricep. They laugh as he attempts to draw a bird amongst the flowers. He wonders if his soulmate knows they’re a bit of a celebrity amongst the 547th.

He wonders if he’ll ever get to tell them.

That’s the thought that weighs heavily on him as he watches his friends on base turn to dust around him. As he watches planes fall from the sky and plummet to the ground. As he watches the gentle waves and roles of the ocean that cascade across his forearm disappear.

It's five years before another doodle appears on his skin. He almost cries when he sees it. A small cartoon bird wipes sweat off of its forehead as if relieved.

He lacks all creativity in terms of response and just surrounds the bird in a cloud of hearts.

And that's their reunion. After this, life continues on, and their established routine continues. While the rest of the world still feels like a mess, the familiar rhythm of waking up to a new comic, of finding a new illustration branded on his shoulder makes him feel whole again.

The art maintains its affects on others as well. Both Sam and Bucky like to tease him for the "garden on his arm" or tell him he's a "human gallery." But he notices the way they practice drawing on their arms, watches as the other eyes the spot it appears on their own skin and mercilessly roasts it. Bucky has asked Joaquin if he's willing to trade soulmates more than once.

Joaquin's not.

Ideally, Joaquin would have met his soulmate under calmer circumstances.

Maybe they could have met at a Starbucks when they accidentally reached for the same drink and noticed the matching patterns on each other's arms.

Maybe they could have met while his soulmate was taking a tour of the base, and he just so happened to stop and say hello to the guide and realized that he had the same three birds on his shoulder.

Maybe they could have just finally coordinated a time to see each other face to face.

Instead, he catches them as they're pushed from a stolen helicopter.

Later, they tell him that they wish he'd just walked into their tattoo shop. That his first impression of them wasn't screaming and crying and just about ready to vomit all over him. That they wouldn't have blamed him for keeping the connection a secret when the first thing they said to him after saving their life was "Ow! I think you broke my back." (Which, for the record, he didn't. It was just bruised.)

But when he sees the band of flowers encircling their tricep, he can't keep it in. He can't believe he's holding his soulmate in his arms. The person who's kept him company for almost two decades.

So he says something almost as idiotic as they do: "You're the bird."

And that pretty much solidifies the fact that they're meant to be.