#i was in there five minutes and every time someone addressed my character I was given dialogue options

[jarinnards]

I really do miss the DAI formula for the dialogue wheel. I understand they didn't want to go back to silent protags like DAO, but the Inquisitor always felt so malleable and personal. For almost every line of dialogue where your character could speak, you'd be given an option for how you wanted to respond. You could interject in some companion banter and choose your own dialogue, or you could ignore them. You couldn't even be "evil" in Inquisition, but I never felt like I was boxed in or that my character was saying the same thing but worded slightly different. It felt like my Inquisitor was mine. Like they were wholly different from the character someone else was playing and it wasn't just in my head. The game reflected that. Inky rarely ever spoke without your input, and while you had to save the world, it felt very much like your reasons for doing so were your own.

I miss that.

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Ok, I just read your sweet yandere post and would like to add something.

I love the idea of like a mafia boss yandere or someone who is usually cruel (like maybe a Hades sort of character) but is an absolute sweet heart to their darling. One of my fave tropes

OOOOOOH I LOVE THIS TROPE! I have a character who's just like this actually, a total sweetheart to whoever he's with but has a very low tolerance for most other people.

Sorry, this is a long one lol

I'm gonna make headcanons now because you've inspired me lol.

(Banner/divider credit goes to @cafekitsune)!

Tw: Kidnapping, mentions of violence, stalking, drugging

Mafia boss! Charlie who is no stranger to violence. He's lived his entire life surrounded by it, in fact. Having a mafia boss for a father will do that to you, he guesses.

Mafia boss! Charlie who's spent his whole life working for the mafia, being trained to kill, smuggle, and deal ever since he was a child. He grew up living a life of crime, rising up the ranks (thanks to his father), before taking over as the boss when his father was killed by an unruly client.

Mafia boss! Charlie who's a cruel, ruthless man. He's killed dozens of people, injured many more, and runs his organization with an iron fist. He may be young, but he's learned enough to know that any show of trust, any display of kindness is a show of weakness, a show of vulnerability. He can't afford that, not when he's the head of the mafia, so he makes sure to make it so that no one will question or challenge his authority by any means necessary.

Mafia boss! Charlie who has very few real friends, keeping those he does have at an arm's length. He'd rather die than admit that he craves real relationships, that he desires to make genuine, true connections with others. But he can't, so he pushes his wants to the side, reminding himself that his only purpose is to keep his business running smoothly, nothing more.

Until he sees you, that is.

Mafia boss! Charlie who meets you out on a grocery run one day. Your interaction is nothing special, at least to you, but Charlie can't help but marvel at how easily you make conversation with him while ringing up his items, how seemingly unfazed you are by his snappy attitude and unapproachable appearance. It's been a long, long time since he's met anyone unafraid of him, and those people are usually rivals who are too cocky for their own good. So this, this is new. He knows it's stupid, he knows that your tiny interaction shouldn't have mattered much to someone like him, but he can't help but feel giddy about the connection he's sure he felt.

Mafia boss! Charlie who, against his better judgment, wastes no time in trying to find out who you are. It's not hard, he has an entire organization full of trained trackers, stalkers, and informants at his disposal, and by the end of the day, he has your full name, address, social media accounts, family tree, medical records, and much more safely in his welcoming hands. He knows this is a bit overkill considering he only met you today and your interaction lasted five minutes at most, but now that he has a taste of real human interaction, he's addicted. He needs more.

Mafia boss! Charlie who quickly becomes awestruck and obsessed with you. His whole life, he's been surrounded by the craftiest, cruelest, most violent people imaginable, so to see someone, especially someone as precious as you, live a completely normal life, naive to the dangers he faces everyday? It's captivating! Of course, he can't follow you all day, he is a mafia boss after all, but he has enough people following you around and recording your every move that he doesn't need to! He's never been happier to be who his is than now.

Mafia boss! Charlie who thinks you're the most beautiful person in the world. You're a sweet little thing, too gentle and too unaware of the dangers around you for your own good. He loves everything about you, no matter how weird or embarrassing. He's content to watch you carefully for a couple months, but as time goes on, his need to feel our touch, to talk to you, to see you face to face is too much. He needs you. He needs you NOW. It doesn't help that you're so vulnerable and weak compared to him, with no knowledge of weaponry or stealth to keep you safe. What if someone were to try and hurt you? Of course, his goons wouldn't let that happen, not if they wanted to keep their organs, but he would feel so much better if he could keep an eye on you personally. Not to mention, every mafia boss needs a spouse, and some of his higher ranking associates have been hinting that it's about time he found someone...

Mafia boss! Charlie who immediately starts planning your "transfer" to his house, meticulously drafting out every last detail to secure your safety. He chooses his best, most skilled employees to carry out his plan, only the best for his darling, and sends them out to bring you "home". That day you come home from work, completely unaware of the people in your apartment, completely unaware of the sleeping pills dumped into your water while you weren't looking.

Mafia boss! Charlie who's ecstatic to finally have you with him, to finally have someone to hold, to talk to, to love. He brings your unconscious body to your new room, laying you softly on the bed while instructing his employees to pack up all your belongings and bring them to him. He doesn't tie you down or chain you up, he has enough security measures in place to make sure you won't be able to escape. You won't even be able to leave your room without him being notified.

Mafia boss! Charlie who watches the camera in your room as you wake up for the first time in your new home, confused and disoriented. All of your stuff is here, but this is NOT your apartment. Where are you? He watches as you start to freak out, guilt flashing through him for the first time in his life. He doesn't want you to be scared, he just wants to keep you safe!

Mafia boss! Charlie who sends one of his gentler employees into your room to explain everything, too afraid of scaring you even further by showing up himself. He waits a few days before revealing himself to you, when your terror has calmed down and you've become more familiar with your surroundings. He kind of just stands there, unable to formulate a sentence, which is extremely unnerving to you. You've been told you're to be married to a highly respected and violent mafia boss, and here he is, just...staring. When he opens his mouth to speak, your surprised at how soft his voice is, calmly explaining to you that you're safe, you won't be hurt. He reaches out his hand to touch you, but recoils when you flinch, not wanting to push you.

Mafia boss! Charlie who does everything he can to make you more comfortable and less afraid of him, getting you anything and everything you've ever shown interest in, giving you as much space as you need, and letting you roam the rather large house freely. All you can't do is leave. He doesn't understand why you're still so scared, sure he's a criminal, but he promised he would never hurt you!

Mafia boss! Charlie who gets more desperate for your love as time goes on. He starts appearing in whatever room your in, softly talking to you about his day or about whatever you're doing, trying to get you to be more comfortable with him. Once you've gotten used to that, he starting slowly initiating physical contact, holding you in his arms like he's never going to let you go (because he won't). He tried his hardest not to push your boundaries, but eventually his need to be near you becomes too great. Rest assured though, he would never, ever dream of hurting you or purposely scaring you.

Mafia boss! Charlie who can't get enough of the feeling of your skin on his. He starts hugging/cuddling you whenever he can, holding you like you'll break if he presses too hard. He's always near you, cuddling up to you while telling you about how much he loves you, adoration shining in his eyes. He's the clingiest at night though, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you fall asleep, him watching over you until he succumbs to his own tiredness. And his kisses? They are the softest, fluffiest thing you've ever felt. He cannot get enough of your lips, and he always kisses you passionately, like you'll disappear once he separates from you. With how loving and gentle he is, it doesn't take long for you to start loving him back.

Mafia boss! Charlie who starts giving you more privileges the farther you fall into stockholm. He'll even start taking you out in public on dates once he thinks there's no chance of you trying to escape him. He'd be able to find you if you did, he has many, many connections, but he trusts you won't. He loves going out with you and doing normal, coupley things with you, it's a nice break from his usual, violent life.

Mafia boss! Charlie who is insanely protective of you, never leaving you alone in a room with anyone except for himself. He knows how dangerous it is to be associated with him and now that he has you, he refuses to let anything happen to you. Any rival who attempts to hurt, kill, or kidnap you is met with Charlie himself, who enacts the most brutal, torturous death he can possibly think of on them. Nobody will come close to hurting you, he'll make sure of it. But no matter what happens, he'll always make sure you're far, far away from the violence. He never wants to subject you to the horrors he's seen (and done).

Mafia boss! Charlie who feels awful the first time you hear him raise his voice. It wasn't at you of course, he would never, ever think of yelling at his darling, you just happened to be in the room when he was meeting with one of his associates. It's scary seeing him yell, threatening brutal acts of violence on his own employee, and for the first time you realize how different he is with others than he is with you. He's quick to shut the meeting down once he realizes you're there, spending the rest of the night apologizing to you and assuring you he would never speak to you like that. This'll be the first time he truly opens up about what his job is like and why he has to be as cruel as he is, trying to help you understand why he behaved the way he did. It's difficult for him to make himself vulnerable, but he'd gladly to it if it meant easing your mind. From then on, he makes absolute sure you aren't around whenever he has to take care of business. He refuses to let you see him like that ever again.

Mafia boss! Charlie who never lets you forget how much he needs you in his life. You're the only thing keeping him from devolving into insanity, he wouldn't know how to handle himself if you were gone. He'll give you everything and anything if you listen to him and stay by his side, so please... please don't try to leave him.

Not that you would be able to, anyway.

[aventurineswife]

(I don't know if your request is open or not since Tumblr can be glitch? If not,plz ignore it or if you have done it before!!)

So what if Reader is the butler,like they are kinda hard to be understand by everyone (you know,emotional like that OR maybe you can make the reader act like any butler anime character that you know if you get it).

So the request is I want to see how the butler reader interact with Aventurine and how they slowly develop their feelings to each other (maybe you can make it a little angst with comfort if you want)

“Behind every mask, there's a person”

Summary: You, a stoic and emotionally guarded butler, serve the enigmatic and charismatic Aventurine, a high-ranking executive in the IPC. Though you remain distant and composed, Aventurine’s calculated charm and underlying vulnerability begin to draw you in. Over time, the two of you develop an unlikely connection, built on shared silence, understanding, and an unspoken bond. As Aventurine reveals more of his past and his emotional turmoil, you find yourself staying not just out of duty, but because, for the first time, you’ve found someone worth staying for.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Slow Burn, Angst, Comfort, Emotional Growth, Fluff, Vulnerability, Butler!Reader, Protective Aventurine, Complex Relationships, Mutual Understanding.

Warnings: Themes of trauma, Survivor’s guilt, Emotional tension, Manipulation (though not harmful in this context), Introspection. Contains some elements of angst but ends on a note of comfort and emotional resolution.

The opulent suite was a sanctuary of indulgence and design, a blend of decadence and meticulous taste that perfectly reflected Aventurine himself. Velvet curtains in hues of green and gold framed the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, which offered an unobstructed view of the city skyline below. Crystal chandeliers cast shimmering patterns across the polished marble floor, and the air carried a faint scent of peacock orchids, exotic and rare.

At the center of this luxurious space stood Aventurine, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the evening cityscape. His overcoat hung loosely over his shoulders, and his glasses caught the light as he gazed at the roulette wheel centerpiece on the table before him.

You, his butler, stood quietly by the entrance, your hands clasped behind your back. You had served many powerful figures in your time, but none were quite like Aventurine. He was a puzzle—a man of contradictions. His flamboyant charm often clashed with the quiet melancholy that lingered in his eyes when he thought no one was watching.

But you were always watching. Observing. Analyzing. It was your job, after all.

“You’ve been standing there for five minutes, my dear,” Aventurine said suddenly, his voice smooth and playful. He didn’t turn to face you, instead tracing a finger along the edge of the roulette wheel. “Should I take that as a sign of silent judgment or quiet admiration?”

“I was waiting for you to summon me,” you replied evenly, your tone devoid of the warmth most would use in addressing him. It was one of the reasons others found you difficult to understand; your words often lacked inflection, making it hard to tell what you truly felt.

Aventurine finally turned, his eyes locking onto yours. His ever-present smile curved upward, but there was a flicker of something unreadable behind it. “Ah, always so proper. I do admire your discipline, though I must admit, I sometimes wonder what lies beneath that stoic exterior of yours.”

You tilted your head slightly, meeting his gaze without flinching. “I could say the same of you, sir.”

His laughter rang out, light and carefree. “Touché.”

The days passed, and your interactions followed a similar rhythm. Aventurine would tease, test, and prod, while you maintained your unshakable composure. Yet, over time, the cracks in both of your facades began to show.

One evening, as you adjusted the cuffs of his overcoat before an event, your hand brushed against his. You felt him flinch—just barely—but it was enough to make you glance up. For a moment, his mask slipped, and you saw it: the weariness, the loneliness, the pain he hid so well.

“Apologies,” you said softly, withdrawing your hand.

Aventurine’s smile returned, but it was different this time. Smaller. Sadder. “No need. It seems even I am not immune to the occasional slip.”

It was a stormy night when everything changed. Aventurine had canceled his meetings and retreated to his suite, leaving you to your duties. As the rain lashed against the windows, you entered the study to find him sitting on the floor by the fireplace, a glass of wine in hand. His hat and glasses were discarded, and his sandy blond hair was a disheveled mess.

“You’re off the clock, aren’t you?” he asked without looking up.

“I am here to serve you, sir,” you replied.

“Serve me,” he echoed, his tone bitter. He swirled the wine in his glass before downing it in one go. “Do you ever tire of it? This life of servitude? Of burying yourself in the shadows of others?”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Aventurine had always been a master of deflection, but tonight his words carried a vulnerability you had never heard before.

“I do what I must,” you finally replied, keeping your tone neutral. “Much like you.”

Aventurine let out a humorless chuckle. “Touché again. You’re consistent, if nothing else.” He set the empty glass down beside him and rested his arms on his knees, staring into the fire. “But tell me, truly—why stay? Why not leave? Surely, there are less exhausting lives to lead.”

The question struck a chord within you, one you hadn’t realized was there. You had served many, each with their own quirks and flaws, but Aventurine was different. Despite his arrogance, his risks, and the chaos he carried with him, you had come to admire him—not just for his brilliance, but for the humanity he hid behind his flamboyant facade.

“I stay because I choose to,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “You are… difficult, sir. Flawed, reckless, and exhausting, as you said. But I have seen what lies beneath all of that. I have seen the man you try so hard to hide. And I believe he is worth serving.”

Aventurine froze, his pupils narrowing as he processed your words. For once, he seemed at a loss. “You’re full of surprises,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

You took a step closer, emboldened by the uncharacteristic openness he was showing. “You speak of masks, of facades. But I see the way you carry the weight of your past, the way you bury your guilt beneath charm and games. You pretend to be untouchable, but you are just as human as the rest of us.”

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Then, Aventurine spoke, his voice tinged with a vulnerability you had never heard before.

“And yet, you stay,” he said, looking up at you. “Despite knowing all of that, you stay.”

“Yes,” you said simply. “I stay.”

For a long moment, Aventurine just stared at you, his magenta and cyan eyes searching yours as if trying to find the catch, the hidden motive. When he found none, his expression softened, and for the first time, his smile felt genuine.

“You are either the bravest or the most foolish person I’ve ever met,” he said, his tone somewhere between amusement and gratitude. “But I… I’m glad you’re here.”

The words were simple, but coming from Aventurine, they carried a weight that made your chest tighten. You gave a small bow, trying to hide the faint warmth spreading through you.

“It is my honor, sir.”

That night marked a shift between you. Aventurine’s teasing became less pointed, his smiles less forced. He began to trust you in ways he trusted no one else, and in turn, you found yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

It wasn’t a grand declaration or a dramatic moment that solidified your bond. It was the quiet, stolen moments—the shared silences, the lingering glances, the unspoken understanding that grew between you.

And as you stood by his side, watching him face the endless gambles and risks of his life, you realized something else: you weren’t just staying because it was your duty. You were staying because, for the first time, you had found someone worth staying for.

[hearts-hunger]

i don't even know what to say about tlou hbo at this point. anything goes, i guess? and it sucks?

ellie narrowly escapes getting hung by the seraphites after miraculously surviving a several mile float to scar island. yeah, whatever. sure.

she almost performs a fucking c section?? i will say this did serve to humanize mel and give me some sympathy for her, but it was so jarring that it was kind of a net zero effect.

she... feels that maybe joel did deserve what happened to him? and dina also feels that way? because boy fucking howdy does neil druckmann want to get rid of any nuance in joel's character. villainize that man from the top down. have ellie painstakingly tell a horrified dina what joel did. make him a monster even after his death, with no regard for the fact that he did all that to save his kid.

ellie also feels really sad and says so to abby, sobbingly, about killing owen and mel? like, is she here to kill them or not?

jesse and ellie are all over the fucking place with "you're good i'm bad no wait i'm good you're bad" and why the FUCK is ellie going to risk her life and jesse's for some scar like she's not here just to kill people

i like show jesse being mean to show ellie because she's fucking annoying but that's not his character at all. so i can't really in good conscience enjoy it. god did any character come out of this show unscathed by shit writing and blatant mischaracterization

i might catch some heat for this but bella ramsey just isn't a good actor, all things considered. like i'm sorry but every delivery is just so one dimensional and flat. i don't care necessarily bc it doesn't make or break the show for me, but i'm sick of hearing how great of an actor they are when they're just kinda..... adequate. this is nowhere more apparent than in the "i made her talk" scene when bella's just....... whatever and game ellie is practically radiating with misery and anguish.

also, with regard to this scene, i don't understand dina's response. in the game i don't think dina ever knows about salt lake or that to make a cure ellie would have had to die. i have the feeling that if she did know, she'd be on joel's side. but now we have show dina, who has been the revenge anchor point so far, deciding maybe joel was a monster after all and they need to go home because he deserved what he got and revenge bad!!! or something.

why are we spending so much time with the wlf and isaac when we have a WHOLE FUCKING SEASON dedicated to them coming up?? can we focus on the main characters of this part of the story, please? can we not rush their scenes just to squeeze in five more minutes of some fuckass wlf bullshit???

this show is just ellie planning for a baby that isn't even hers and then getting reminded that "oh yeah i'm on a revenge mission!" and the narrative dissonance between those two is never addressed

is she angry? is she selfish? is she violent? it seems like she's just a huge fucking mess because the writers can't decide. she's impulsive and stupid and hell bent on revenge until she's not, until she feels sad about hurting someone, until she takes the moral high ground, but then she's mad at jesse for taking the moral high ground, and she's mad at joel for being a bad person, but she can't wait to kill everyone...... she's a bitch she's a lover she's a child she's a mother she's a sinner she's a saint she does not feel ashamed

oh hi gabriel luna it was nice to see your totally underutilized character for two minutes. by the way, care to explain why tommy was sniping abby and manny if he didn't think he should get revenge for joel? just curious as to your character's 180 here

geez abby's skinny even for a regular person. get that girl a sandwich. also, super ending but i'm afraid i'm simply not that hype for a new season coming out years from now that promises to be just as bad as this one.

to be honest i'm glad it's over because i'm tired of the continual butchering of my favorite piece of media ever. but it fucking blows that this version is the one people are going to know. that people are singing hbo's praises for a really shit adaptation of a genre-defining, groundbreaking, truly compelling piece of storytelling. when it's all said and done, i will never not be upset that something i love this much got reduced to..... whatever the fuck this was.

[vilonnie]

just watched a vid of the p5 phantom x leblanc valentines event ohhhh my goddddddd

anyway who wants a super long unprompted reaction post. ahaha.

this line... love acknowledging that ren is always surrounded by the support of his thieves and that it means more to him than anything in the world!! they love him unconditionally and he loves them so much in return. ough. but also my god sir you are Addicted to Service... damn it's almost like this is a defining character trait or something

no comment

PSYCH I have Comment anyway hes so completely utterly shameless and intense about literally everything all the time every day for no reason <3 whats his damage. I don't even think this is a bit I think he is so sincerely just like this at the most fundamental level. it's so great. a character with very nearly as much Personality as he has problems (and my god that is saying something)

THIS IS SO SWEET ARE YOU KIDDING ME? so wait hold on theres a couple different things going on here give me a second. ok first the fact that ren wrote this has the in-universe implication that he literally went out of his way to stop and put into words something he genuinely admired about each thief as an individual in order to personalize their cakes While in the process of baking cakes for them all in the first place. that is so tooth-rottingly sweet and also do you know how much you have to love your friends to do that. im going to melt onto the floor they made a valentines event and chose to center it around joker's immense platonic love for his friends im ?????? this is my favorite possible thing they could have done with this

but also him assessing their strengths for a vday event is like. yep that leader character sure is leadering LMAO.

makoto going out of her way to praise haru specifically <3 noirqueen remains canon forever godspeed

ok hi I did admittedly single out that ann one specifically definitely not because im biased just because it's SO GOOD. HELLO. sorry shes just the strongest character in the world and every time they address that it's a win for meeeeee

[ID: The word "Hmph." End ID]

love that joker is just the kind of person to say "hmph" in casual conversation completely unironically. also while going back for screenshots I noticed that this is actually the second time hes said this in the span of like five minutes thats. ren... every time someone characterizes ren as speaking like a normal socially acceptable human being and not saying shit like "tch" and "w-what? impossible...!" an angel loses its wings

STOP SAYING THINGS LIKE THAT LITERALLY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU (affectionate)

also I couldnt screenshot but I want you to guess how I reacted to the soundbite of joker laughing here. yeah

every woman in a fifty mile radius sees ren and they immediately want to forcefem her so bad. awesome

oh my god I cant believe thats where we're gonna end this post ok well anyway thank you p5x for making me emotional about phantom thief friendships Again also I want you to look at this file name I had for one of the screenshots which is extremely untrue but in the beautiful perfect world that lives in my mind it can be :) so

[shibiichi]

In what sort of ways does management mistreat them, and why?

Hi! I do not remember which characters this ask is to but I primarily focus on the DCA so I’ll assume it’s to those silly jesters!

(Also I’m SO sorry for taking FIVE-ever to respond</3)

Alrighty! So management for Fazbear Entertainment in my au is much like that of the games. Money first, everything else second. They’d much rather take shortcuts and save on cash than actually address a problem! (Example: Placing generators WITHIN the play structures rather than hiring someone to work with the DCA.) They’ll ONLY address an issue if it will lose them too much money. (Lawsuits mainly. Though this is also why Glam. Bonnie does not return after being decommissioned. He was completely torn apart in my AU, so management decided to cut him completely and replace him with a pre-existing animatronic.)

The DCA specifically is neglected, that is the main way they are mistreated by FE. The DCA, despite being one of the first animatronics added to the plex in this AU, is a B tier robot. (Corporate’s wording)

A Tier: Glamrocks (Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, & Roxy) - (EVENTUALLY Monty)

B Tier: Side attractions (Monty (at first), DCA, DJMM, Cherub (OC) )

C Tier: Staff/Helpers (Staff Bots (all variants), Wet Floor Bots, Puppy Pals (OC), Lady Bird (OC) )

B tiers tend to be put behind the needs of A tiers unless A tiers are ‘lost expenses’. (Cough cough Bonnie cough) B tier animatronics can get more attention however, if they are closely associated with an A tier bot. The DCA has always been a closed act, so they are not given that luxury. It was worse in the theatre days, as Sun and Moon were not even allowed to leave the daycare wing of the plex. Moon was allotted that privilege a full year after the grand opening of the plex, and that’s only because he was upgraded to also be security.

Theatre rules still apply to the DCA after their repurposing, though it’s simply over a different area now. (Before, Sun couldn’t leave the theatre, now Sun can’t leave the daycare.) These rules made sense at the time but now do not due to schedule changes. (Sun was active from 6-12 am, the daycare being open for most of that time and the rest was spent charging or cleaning. Moon 12-6am with naptime being from 1-2pm. Now, however, Moon is only active for 15 minutes at the start of every hour, from 1-6am. Sun is in control for the times inbetween hourly patrols.)

That is one way Sun specifically is treated poorly. He is made to be social, so not allowing him to exit the daycare during these extra hours of the night is cruel and unusual. The virus also cut off his and Moon’d headspace link. Unfortunately, Moon does not fair much better. While Moon is allowed out of the daycare, his time out has been severely cut down. He is also not allowed to interact with staff or A/B tier animatronics unless there is an emergency. This is management’s way of ‘dealing’ with the virus. They’d rather limit Moon’s time out/interactions with others instead of actually taking maintenance requests seriously.

Due to this, Moon is disliked by staff and animatronic alike, described as ‘unstable’ and ‘hostile’. It’s one of the excuses made by corporate as to why they won’t fix Moon, despite these issues clearly having a great impact on BOTH attendants AND the children in the daycare.

The DCA is also just neglected physically. They aren’t as shiny as the other animatronics and they are responsible for cleaning the entire daycare by themselves. Thus, the attendants tend to favor keeping the environment safe rather than cleaning their casings or their room. Hence the attendants having those ever classic ‘children’s hand prints’ on their torso.

BUT!!!! My AU does have a happier conclusion!

All of this has been covering the first 3 points in the DCA story’s timeline! (Theatre, Daycare/Pre-Virus, and Virus) I’ve been specifically focusing more on the 4th part, Post-Virus!

Post-Virus occurs a month or so after Gregory’s night at the plex and Vanessa’s liberation from Glitchtrap/Afton. Ruin does not happen in this AU, rather this follows the princess quest ending more! Due to the high number of damaged (A Tier) animatronics, Fazbear Entertainment is actually put under new management! Vanessa and Gregory work to free the animatronics of the Vanny Virus. (BTW. The Afton Virus is not the same as the Vanny Virus. Afton refers to what Vanessa had, as it is a direct product of Afton’s consciousness via a digital adjacent form. The Vanny Virus was created directly by Vanny to force the animatronics to do Afton’s will. Glitchtrap is not actually present within the Vanny Virus. Rather, the VV acts in two distinct ways depending on sentience. No or weak learning AI/weak sentience allows for compete control. Think Vanny making the staff bots disassemble Freddy. High learning AI/full sentience acts more like dangerous impulses or intrusive thoughts. It pushes personality traits to their extremes, highlighting the worst things in people. Think Moon going from shy, playful, and concerned for others to antisocial, sadistic, and controlling. Animatronics are aware, they can fight back, but doing so takes a great amount of will power. The longer the virus affects a host, the worse symptoms become. A high sentience animatronic can be controlled, but only if said animatronic does not have the will to fight anymore.)

Tangent aside, with Gregory and Vanessa’s help (plus better management), the animatronics within the plex are cured of the Vanny Virus. HOWEVER. Cured does not equal fixed. Remnants of learned behavior and altered programming lay like scars within these characters. The worst affected is Moon, due to him having the virus the longest AND having security features. (Only character that had it longer was Bonnie, but he’s no longer present… for now) Management IS better post-virus, but Moon is treated more like an injured animal than an individual. His hours have been extended to half the night (3-6am) but he has not been approved for naptime yet due to his unpredictable nature. At the very least, Moon can hear Sun again and vice versa! And Sun is allowed out of the daycare to interact with the Glamrocks and others. (Due to his horrible separation anxiety that developed during the virus’ reign. It’s also just fairer.)

Things will get better tho for both attendants!!! It will just take a while for them to heal. Hope this answered your question!! (Like seriously—I yapped forever 😭) tysm for your patience and interest!!!

[agalitzine]

SILHOUETTES OF US :

ONE — Daphne

summary:

Every small town has its own kind of legend - the guy who thinks he's a rockstar because he plays guitar at cheap bars, the girl who would sell her body for Instagram likes, or the Barbie doll who never outgrew high school.

But in Sequim, we have him. The man who lives in shadows, haunting the edges of everything. Two years ago, he moved into that dark house at the end of the North Street.

No one knew anything about him, except for his address and his name.

Hwang Hyunjin.

a/n: helloo! i've been wiritng and planning this book/series for a while now and i'm so excited to finally share this with you all 🥹

it's my first work that i am actually proud of and i hope you'll be enjoying this book as much as i enjoy writing it.

warnings: explicit language, bit harash/violence

—> chapther two

ONE — Daphne

When I stepped out of the shower an hour ago, my phone was pinging like I was about to win the lottery. Except, I wasn’t. I was about to make some terrible decisions, just like every other Friday night. And for a brief moment, I almost hoped I wouldn’t be spending the night in my bed, scrolling through my phone and pretending to be okay with the fact that I had zero plans.

The alternative, though, was not nearly as glamorous. I really didn’t want to be getting hauled in by the local sheriff again, fresh off a bender. Don’t ask.

The plan was simple: meet up at 7 PM in front of Hills Club. The place where the cool kids hung out, where I, evidently, didn’t belong, but had found myself way too many times anyway. Thanks to my beloved friends, of course, who had this unshakable belief that I was somehow part of their scene. It was a messy, beautiful little setup, and I was the unwilling participant.

Naturally, I panicked and rushed out of my house as fast as my legs allowed me to. And made it on time. Or at least, I thought I did.

The problem?

I forgot my ID.

And now I was standing in front of the club, feeling like I’d wandered into the wrong movie — the one where the plotline’s not even interesting enough to hold my attention. I glanced at the towering black doors, the ones that looked like they could swallow a person whole, and immediately regretted everything. The night was chilly, the kind of cool that gets in your bones. The wind nipped at my arms, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end.

My phone buzzed again, and I didn’t dare check it. I already knew what the messages said. Of course, they were making fun of me. Everyone had made it on time except for me. I was that person — the one who always made everything harder than it had to be.

Fumbling through my bag, I searched for my ID like it might magically appear in the sea of crumpled receipts, used tissues, and broken pens. It didn’t, of course.

I was well aware of how this was going to go. Behind the velvet ropes and the pulsing neon glow of the club, the sound of music vibrated through my chest like a physical presence, a constant reminder that I was on the outside looking in. The laughter from inside was almost mocking. If I were a cartoon character, the music would probably be taunting me with a little “nyah nyah nyah” every time I looked longingly through the door.

And there was the security guard. Of course.

He had been watching me for the past five minutes, making me feel like his next target if imade a bad move. He was huge. Built like a bouncer from one of those movies where the hero has to break into a club and punch someone. His eyes, cold and flat, never once looked away from me. It was the kind of stare that made you feel like you were the subject of a science experiment, one that might not end well.

What was I doing here, exactly?

One of my best friend's older brother, Felix’s older brother, the elusive and apparently very important club owner, was supposed to be the one to let me in.

But, surprise!

Felix wasn’t here yet, and neither was his brother. So, there I was, alone in front of the club, with Mr. Stone-Face, who looked like he was secretly plotting his next sandwich.

My gaze flickered to my phone again, but I didn’t check it. Instead, I checked the time.

7:35 PM. Fantastic.

I shifted my weight, trying to act casual, as if I didn’t have a small army of thoughts hurling themselves at me all at once.

“Why do I always screw this up?”

“What if I get locked out all night?”

“What’s taking Felix so long?”

Of course, Felix was never the problem. It was always me. Always.

I sighed, letting my back fall against the cold stone wall of the club. For a brief second, I closed my eyes and imagined I was anywhere else. Maybe in my bed, procrastinating. Or curled up in a bookstore, reading a novel I had no intention of finishing.

The sound of music thudded louder from inside. People were dancing. And laughing. Probably drinking their overpriced cocktails while looking effortlessly cool. Meanwhile, I was standing outside, alone, feeling like an outcast in a place I wasn’t even sure I belonged in.

Great.

Nothing could get worse, I thought.

What else could go wrong? I was just waiting. I was going to see my friends soon. It wasn’t the end of the world.

Of course, that was when things took a turn.

I didn’t see it coming at first. Not until I heard the rustling behind me. My purse, which was hanging carelessly over my shoulder, was suddenly yanked away from me with such force that I actually stumbled forward. My heart dropped. Adrenaline shot through me as I turned, reaching for it with desperate hands, but whoever was stealing my purse was already halfway down the alley.

“Hey!” I shouted, already pushing through the panic that was rising in my chest. "Someone just took my purse!"

The security guard didn’t budge. He didn’t even blink.

I yelled again, louder this time. My voice was a mixture of disbelief and panic, but all he did was raise an eyebrow as if I had asked him to help me tie my shoes, not save my ass.

“Really?” I muttered under my breath, giving him my best sarcastic look. I should’ve known.

I was about to chase after the thief — adrenaline-fueled and ready to tear the town apart for my damn pink purse — but then something happened.

The thief, this scrawny guy darting through the alley, was suddenly slammed into the pavement, his body hitting the ground with a thud that echoed off the walls.

Karma.

I froze, my eyes wide, my breath catching in my throat.

What the hell?

The man who had knocked him down was... huge. Broad, towering over the thief like a wall. He stood with an almost terrifying presence, his shadow stretching long over the alleyway as he grabbed my purse from the thief’s trembling hand. Then, his eyes found mine.

I swear to God, it felt like the whole world stopped.

He was... he was beautiful in a way that made my heart stutter. In a way I didn’t know was possible for someone that imposing. His features were sharp, his eyes cold but intense, like he could cut through a person’s soul with one look.

And that’s exactly how I felt — like I was caught in the sharpness of his stare, completely immobilized.

He was tall. He was... gorgeous. And if I hadn’t been so dumbstruck, I might’ve been angry at myself for noticing.

His hair, dark and unruly, gave off the impression that he didn’t care about what it looked like — but somehow, that made it all the more perfect. He wore a black jacket that hugged his frame in a way that made it seem like he was some kind of intimidating god of the night, and, honestly, he kind of was.

But what took me by surprise wasn’t the way he looked. It was the way he carried himself. Like he wasn’t even trying. Like he could take over the world and still not break a sweat.

He stared at me for what felt like an eternity, those piercing eyes of his examining me in a way that made my chest tighten.

Finally, he spoke. His voice wasn't as deep as i imagined, yet his voice sounded gravelly attractive, like it had been made to command attention, even if he hadn’t intended for it.

“Is this yours?” he asked, and I swear it felt like a rhetorical question, one that would’ve made my knees buckle if I hadn’t been so overwhelmed.

Holy shit.

I nodded.

What else was I supposed to do? I could barely remember how to breathe, let alone speak.

Without another word, he handed me my purse, his fingers brushing mine in the most casual, fleeting touch. But it felt electric. As if the contact had left something behind.

“Be careful next time,” he muttered, his voice colder than I had expected. And with that, he turned, walking away like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t just completely knocked me off my feet with his presence.

I stood there for what felt like an eternity, clutching my purse, still shaken. My mind scrambled to process what had just happened. He wasn’t supposed to exist. Not like that. Not in my world.

And this is probably the moment where most girls will say: "Oh no, i will probably never see him again."

Well, shit, that wasn't my case.

And that's why I'm maybe even more overwhelmed. Because this man lives in a house next door and I know exactly who it is, yet I don't know more than his name.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Even that name sounds beautiful. Okay, screw me.

I turned, expecting to see a security guard or maybe a bouncer giving me that “gett outta here” look. Instead, I saw Felix, and his older brother Sean, the one who wasn’t always around but somehow had a presence that demanded attention.

Felix had his typical grinning, mischievous look plastered on his face, and his messy blonde hair was the perfect mix of careless and effortless, exactly how you'd expect the "good guy with a devil's grin" to look.

"Well, look who’s standing out here like a lost puppy," Felix said, the teasing tone in his deep voice making me roll my eyes. Despite the sarcasm, I could hear the fondness behind his words. It was always like that with him — he could poke fun and still make you feel like the most important person in the room.

I groaned and shrugged. “I forgot my ID, of course. You know, no one ever warned me that I should expect to get stopped by bouncers everywhere I go.”

Felix snickered, stepping forward to give me a hug that was way too enthusiastic, squeezing the air out of me. “I’ll talk to him, don’t worry. I’ve got this covered.”

Sean who was standing behind him, only raised an eyebrow. "Do you, though?"

I blinked, realizing I hadn’t really paid attention to him. Felix’s older brother wasn’t the loudest person, nor did he exude the same infectious energy Felix had, but there was something about him that made you take notice. He stood back with a quiet strength, his expression neutral, but his gaze sharp. When he spoke, his voice was calm but firm. “I’ll make sure they let you in for next time as well, with or without ID.”

“Thanks,” I said, still unsure how this night had taken such a bizarre turn.

Sean nodded before heading back inside. He didn’t say much, which was typical. He wasn’t like Felix, who always had something to say, no matter how ridiculous it was.

I turned back to Felix, raising an eyebrow. “Your brother's got this... ‘I’ll save you’ vibe going on. It’s weird.”

Felix laughed. “He always had been.”

With that, he grabbed my arm, practically dragging me toward the doors as Sean gave us a small nod from the entrance. “Welcome to the madness,” Felix said with a wink.

The second we stepped inside, the music hit me like a wall. Bass thumping through my chest, flashing lights dancing on the walls. It wasn’t huge, but it had this exclusive vibe to it.

Felix led me through the crowd, weaving expertly through groups of people. He was so confident, it was like he knew this space better than his own house. And of course, that he did, I've got dragged here many times, along with Chan and Lynn.

Felix's hand was warm around mine, and for a second, I felt like maybe tonight wasn’t going to be a total disaster.

Then again, Felix had a way of making everything seem less daunting. He had a devilish grin, but his heart was as soft as they came.

“Here’s the crew,” Felix announced dramatically as we approached a booth in the corner.

The first person I saw was Chan. You couldn’t ignore him, or unsee him. He had this masculine energy about him, but that was also well paired with a deep sense of understanding, that made him not only easy to talk to but fun to hang around.

He was from Australia, just like Felix, but more often than not, he acted like the old soul in the room.

Chan was, without a doubt, the “mom” of the group. He wasn’t just the older one, he was the one who always had an opinion, always had the best advice, whether we asked for it or not.

He could be the life of the party one second, cracking jokes and making everyone laugh, but the next minute, he’d be on your case about your life choices. You’d laugh about it, but you also kind of felt like you needed to take his advice seriously.

“About time you showed up,” Chan said, his arms crossed over his chest, giving me a mock glare. “What have I told you about punctuality?”

I rolled my eyes, sitting down beside him. “You know I’m not going to listen, Chan. I’m my own disaster, remember?”

Lynn, sitting across from me, shot me a grin. “If anyone's going to cause a scene, it's gonna be you.” She chuckled. Lynn was with no doubt the prettiest girl you could've seen in Sequim.

Every time we had gone somewhere just the two of us, she always had people turning. Both guys and girls — no wonder, I would be wondering if she didn't. Her long red hair were tonight tied up in a messy bun, making her deep blue eyes stand out even more than they already were.

If I looked like her I swear I would never ever be insecure again in my entire life.

Then there was Felix. Of course.

He was the sunshine of the group, the one everyone leaned on when they needed a dose of happiness. He had that angelic face, soft and welcoming, but the moment he opened his mouth, it was like the devil had taken over.

I'm not kidding. Not really. Because when he opens his mouth, you're left dumbstruck staring, and questioning mother nature, what had happened, because the guy looks literarlly like a plushie with Pinkie Pie energy, yet has avoice of Keith David.

With his deep voice and bleached blonde hair that perfectly matched his freckled cheeks, Felix had this strange power to simultaneously make you want to laugh and hide behind a rock.

Ever since I met them, Chan had always teased Felix about taking far too many of those teddy bear-shaped gummy vitamins — a joke that never failed to make Felix laugh and nearly choke at the same time.

They’ve all become incredibly precious to me. Before high school, I never really had close friends, but when I met these three, everything changed. From that moment on, we were inseparable, spending most of our time together. For the first time in my life, I felt like I truly belonged somewhere. Even my mom was so happy about it that she started baking heart-shaped cookies just for them — and yes, not for me. I wasn’t even allowed to touch them until I got to school. It’s a story they still love to tease me about whenever high school comes up in conversation.

After graduation, we somehow all ended up staying in Sequim. Not because we were part of some townie gang that never leaves, but simply because none of us had the means to pack up and start fresh somewhere else.

Well, Felix could have. His family is wealthy, but he wanted no part of that life. He was determined to make it on his own, without relying on his family’s money — and we respected him for that.

So here we are, three years out of high school. I now work at the small library in the town center with Lynn. Chan landed his dream job as a personal trainer — fitting, since he always spent more time at the gym than in his own bed. And Felix works as a lifeguard at the local swimming pool.

But my dream is to move to Seattle one day and start off clear.

Seattle has always been my dream.

uhhh, im so nervous? heh. let me know what you think, id be very happy for ever response. ^^

// also i wanted to excuse myself for any mistakes if you find any, english is not my native language :')

taglist: @eastjonowhere

[katyspersonal]

You always be scaring off my new followers on purpose 😔😔😔😔😔 jealous 😔😔😔😔😔😔

Ha-ha. Very funny, you fool. As if I am doing this because I am having a mental breakdown when your attention is not all on me for five minutes, and not because I am guarding you with the only form of a trial against Basic Bitches that I am capable of.

xDDD Okay but SERIOUSLY though, if you are sending me this ask because someone unfollowed you after our semi-regular unhinged interaction or anything of the sorts I am sorry BUT, if that happened, they were NOT deserving of you!!! Everyone in our friends group is insane, it is just that you, Val, Fantomette, Faree, Tail and Jara at least can be mistaken for normal people should one squint very hard, whereas I am comedically transparent! With both my brilliant humour AND my habit to address the discourse instead of just "shutting up and consuming content in peace", I can filter out the normies! XD The undeserving ones can run and cope with cringe attack elsewhere! 😎

....heh, on a slightly darker note, I guess this is just a habit I've worked during everything we've been through, that simply morphed into something funnier. But, you know that reasons of being "repulsed" by me to the point of avoiding anyone in touch with me have been.. extremely telling, for the lack of better wording. I've watched normie loosers trying to interact with you guys while passively-aggressively elbowing me like "inconvenience" to eventually give up on you and withdraw several times, you know?

And seeing this gave me a sense of joy that is very hard to describe. Right, there is "naive" side to me that would worry that I'd "ruin your chances" in online spaces and "dragged you down".. but I know, that the trial was for the best.

People who got "scared away" by me to the point of withdrawing their (fake, shallow, conditional) "support" (that won't be missed) from you were those who would also ditch YOU over dumb terminally online slander without bothering to check to themselves. They were those who would also deem YOU dangerous monster upon witnessing your mental breakdown. They were those who would also give up on YOU when you'd be at your lowest point and clearly need help. They were those who would also talk shit about YOU behind your back, inventing ways to trace your super neurodivergent clueless mistakes to discovery of "highly manipulative behaviour" instead of talking to you. And sure they were those who would assume the worst about YOU any time your wording goes against certain script, without any consideration for what you actually tried to communicate. I've been deliberately refusing to "pretend we don't know each other" every time the Mean Girls (gender neutral) passed by, but instead, I will be the judge for who will be a good friend to you and who won't.

fhhfdshfds okay sorry XD In any case, I think my brain is permanently altered to become the "dog" when I start to really value a person, even when now things are far from being so dramatic. People who can stand my presence will stand yours should you hit the lowest point of your character arc. :p THOSE are worthy friends, not fake bitches that bail if "vibes are off :'(" or if you are facing a trouble with consequences. Also you know why I actually sent you that Brador ask that one summer. Everyone knows. ;)

[jalicecookie]

Hardware store Visit

A Christmas Gift for @ritualofcirice happy Christmas and remember, if you are looking for a hiding spot, think about the large wodden pallets for the start :-) (I got inspired by your Work Fragile - Handle with Care and first i wanted to send Vox with the Kid to the Store, but choose Alastor instead , i mean it could work just as well with our favorite Radio Demon instead :D. Aaand I´am sure you get Bubble Wrap in the hardware store as well if you ask nicely, they should have it left from all the storage stuff maybe ^^.)

picture by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more 

There are times when even powerful demons of hell and influential Overlords, owners of souls, a hell of a lot of souls, have to go to a hardware store.

It's a good thing, that in addition to the very strange places in the Entertainment District, Hell also had everyday things to buy in different shops.

Despite the power of magic and dark spells , that the radio demon Alastor could call his own… there was exactly one thing, that he had to get from a hardware store.

He could have sent his shadow there… but Niffty and his little daughter had almost gotten him to the last of his patience (and his third cup of coffee for breakfast!) and made him agree to this daring idea.

Sometimes Niffty and the almost 3 year old Anita would get hyped up…with their impulsive behavior and so much energy…that more chaos would arise…something , that Alastor would normally comment on with a broad grin, but especially on public trips into the city, the radio demon had been careful since moving into the Hazbin Hotel with the little demon.

Alastor did not want to exposed her to any risk…and he had pissed off more than one inhabitant of hell in the past, he would not be surprised if someone tried to kidnap Anita…on the other hand, Alastor trusted both Husker and Niffty with the big task of babysitting his daughter…with Niffty by her side, Anita would have a playmate, someone who would keep an eye on the toddler (in the truest sense of the word!) and make sure that she did not throw herself into chaos.

After all, a hardware store could be like…a candy store for the younger ones. And when Niffty had also asked him , to come along on the trip, Alastor hadn't been able to be strict any more. It would be over quickly, five minutes… at most.

"Oh, no need to pout, my dear Husker, we'll be back at the hotel soon and then Anita can continue with her… extremely amusing tea party!" - Alastor tapped his staff teasingly against the bar counter, on which a few cuddly toys and tea cups were lined up (Anita had been playing tea party at the bar counter just a few minutes ago and had persuaded the bad-tempered Husk, to be one of the guests at the tea party).

"Bye bye Husk. Watch Mr. Frog please?" - Anita ran towards Alastor with Niffty at her side and addressed the words to the bartender, then pointed with one hand to the frog plush toy , that had been placed on Husk's right shoulder. Mr. Frog was wearing a pink princess dress and gave the bartender a little color, Niffty thought.

"Hm… don´t get lost," grumbled Husk and turned his back on the trio.

The signal to leave and Alastor left the hotel together with the soul that was in his possession and his daughter.

The radio demon's eyes carefully watched every move of the two girls and called them a few times, when Anita walked dangerously close to the edge of the sidewalk, because she wanted to show Niffty what the heroine had experienced in her last bedtime story.

Alastor could say without lying that he was proud… yes, a proud father, because his daughter not only looked like him, but also had a lot of is character traits.

She liked being the center of attention, knew how to keep the attention on her and was a ray of sunshine, almost always seen with a smile on her face.

And Alastor is especially proud , of the girl's red shoulder-length hair, which Niffty braided into two small side braids this morning after breakfast.

Like Alastor, Anita also embodies an animal demon.

A small deer with red-black hair - eyes just as red as Alastor… only the girl's hooves were light green.

It was a very amusing quirk of nature… or a law of hell?

So far, the radio demon had not been able to figure out why her hooves were this contrasting color.

But that way, the toddler could be recognized quickly… she had already helped Alastor find his little fawn in several situations.

Yes… Alastor was proud of how his daughter was… and Niffty seemed to have an… interesting influence on Anita.

One time, for example, Alastor caught the girl sneaking out of the room after bedtime, to go hunting for bugs with Niffty and running through the hotel corridors with a knife.

Another time, Alastor was able to prevent Anita from using some of the blue shimmering essence , to clean the floors as shampoo, because Niffty once mentioned , that it really does make everything super clean…..and another time, Anita wanted to go around dressed up as an exact copy of Niffty for Halloween….even though Papa Alastor would have been the perfect costume, but little Anita had dismissed this argument with a giggle.

Alastor was quite proud of Anita, she was so… full of life and braveness, not like some other children who were pampered by their parents or guardians and turned into spoiled brats.

"Charlie urgently needs this reinforcement material for the hotel entrance doors, it won't take long, come along you two!" - Alastor indicated to Niffty and Anita to follow him , into the hardware store and the steady footsteps behind him , told the radio demon, that both Niffty and Anita were still close by.

Unfortunately, it wasn't that easy to find the right department for the material that was supposed to be used to reinforce the entrance doors.

The labeling of the departments was a bit complicated, here and there a few people stood with large shopping carts piled high with wood or other materials, which made the way a little slower… and then there were the motivated… no, correction… the unmotivated employees of the hardware store (why did Alastor have the feeling that some students or demons in their 20s worked here and did everything except help the customers who were urgently looking for a product?) - because of his intimidating presence, Alastor pushed his way in front of an older lady and not only quickly got the attention of the sales staff, but he was also shown the way to the department a few steps away.

Alastor was then given advice by the sales staff at a shelf on a huge wall.

“Niffty and Anita playing catch! Niffty's turn!” - Anita giggled and tapped Niffty on the shoulder, before the little fawn ran away from Alastor and NIffty, away from the corridor.

“Niffty Dear, please bring Anita back? I'll be finished with this consultation in a minute” - said Alastor without taking his eyes off the hardware store employee, who now began to list the differences in the materials.

Niffty nodded in the affirmative and also ran down the corridor where Anita had turned just a few seconds ago.

But it didn't take long, before Niffty came back, a little out of breath, just as Alastor had the necessary reinforcing material in his hand and was ready to go to the checkout.

“Um… Alastor… I couldn't find Anita for some reason… she's gone,” said Niffty with a hint of nervousness.

Right after she finished her sentence, you could almost hear a static crack in the air , as Alastor slowly turned to the little cyclops and his right eye started to twitch.

“What did you just say, my dear?” - asked Alastor and the grin on his face grew wider.

Niffty repeated the words and while she did so, Alastor listened with one of his fluffy ears, in the direction of the surrounding corridors to see if he would hear a giggle or a startled quiet oh-oh (which Anita liked to say when she knew, that Papa Alastor didn't like an action so much)…but there was nothing.

“I searched all the corridors, Alastor, but…I couldn't find Anita, really not anywhere”, said Niffty and seemed to get nervous…not because she was afraid of trouble from Alastor, no, because Niffty really seemed to be worried.

“She's probably just hiding. ANITA I find this one-sided game extremely impractical, come here and we'll forget this adventure and Mr. Frog won't spend the night in the laundry room!”

Silence… one second, five, thirty… it didn't suit Anita, especially when Alastor threatened to throw one of the stuffed animals, that she loved so much into the hotel laundry room for the night, to remind her that there are consequences, if she behaves like a… rebellious teenager without respect.

“A-N-I-T-A!” - Alastor shouted a little louder, his left eye twitched and the surprise quickly gave way to slight stress.

What… if this little monster ran to the street or if she was kidnapped after all? Or… if she was killed by a wooden board because it wasn't stored properly?

Alastor sometimes loved to look at blood stains at a crime scene, but damn it, not at the blood of his own daughter.

And so the radio demon didn't really care as he rushed through the corridors, worried and calling the girl's name over and over again, and thus received more than one questioning look from passers-by.

Finally, Alastor was even allowed to make an announcement through the microphone (he would have preferred using his stick because… urgh, new technology! But what wouldn't you do?) - but even after his words: Anita, if you hear that, let out a loud scream and Papa can find you again, dear - there was only complete silence.

Niffty even ran outside to scan the sidewalk and Alastor searched all the aisles again, even looking behind the large plant pots (why did most hardware stores have garden centers that tempt you to buy unnecessary little things? Something like a cactus or a carnivorous fly trap? Or…palm trees? Who needs palm trees from a hardware store?) - but Anita didn't hide there either.

Niffty had no luck either , when she came back to the entrance area of ​​the hardware store and just as Alastor impatiently wanted to set his shadow out for the search, he heard the happy voice of the toddler, who was walking without a care in Hell and with a broad smile on her lips, holding a chocolate bar in her hand and the other hand was hold by an older Woman, both of them walk towards Niffty and Alastor.

"Daddy! Niffty! Look, the nice aunt gave Aninta some chocolate," the toddler beamed and held up the half-eaten chocolate bar like a trophy.

“The adorable little girl was hiding between the wooden pallets near the storage area. You couldn't see her at first glance… only a sneeze gave her hiding place some light”, - the sheep demon woman grinned and ruffled Anita's hair once more, before she kindly nodded towards Alastor and Niffty and continued shopping.

“Answer me one question, my dear child… why in the unholy gates of hell did you hide in wooden pallets?” - Alastor had trouble keeping his voice calm (Anita could have negotiated a chocolate bar for him!) and yet he leaned down a little towards the girl , who was now sharing the rest of the candy so generously with Niffty.

A pair of red eyes looked at him innocently , while the last piece of chocolate disappeared between his daughter's teeth.

“So that Papa can find Anita! Playing hide and seek is fun!” - giggled the girl.

“I looked for you and even had you called out…why didn't you come out of hiding? Niffty and I were worried”, - Alastor added, and the girl's giggle irritated him for a split second, but the broad grin on his face remained.

“So that Papa keeps looking…Anita is the bestest at playing hide and seek!”

Alastor looked at her for just a moment and then laughed dryly.

“Ha-ha-ha…you definitely inherited your sense of humor from your old Papa. Next time you'll be put on a leash , when we go to a hardware store…Angel Dust probably still has one left from his annoying pig…", - said the radio demon, this time reaching for Anita's hand with his free hand, while Niffty hold the child's other hand in her own and the three of them , went to the cash register to end this drawn-out trip and finally buy the thing they needed for the hotel.

But maybe there wouldn't be a next time…at least not another trip to a hardware store with his daughter.

Not that Anita would then choose another hiding place and almost give her old father a heart attack…by looking for more dangerous places instead of hiding near the wooden pallets, between the chainsaws or lawnmowers…or the huge carpet rolls and in the end she could get crushed by them.

Maybe a leash for this chaotically little fawn wouldn't be a bad idea after all?

THE END

[coffeedrgn87]

Why Writing Drarry Has Been Like Pulling Teeth (But With Less Anaesthetic)

TW: mention of transphobia after the cut

Right, so here’s the tea. I haven’t been writing much Harry Potter fanfiction lately, and especially not Drarry, and I’d like to say it’s because I’m off somewhere living my best chaotic gremlin life, but let’s be honest: if I were, you’d all have the play-by-play. No, the truth is a right messy tangle, and it’s got a name. Well, actually, it’s got three initials and a permanent residency in the transphobia hall of shame: J.K. Rowling. (Or, as I like to call her, The One Who Absolutely Will Not Zip It.)

Let’s address the Flobberworm in the room: writing Harry Potter fanfiction these days feels a bit like trying to cook a nice meal while someone is throwing dungbombs at the window every five minutes. I open AO3, excited to see what nonsense I wrote about Draco’s tragic fringe in 2019, only to have her name staring at me in the tag. Immediate desire to strangle her. (Not literally, obviously; prison food wouldn’t agree with me, and besides, I hear Azkaban is dreadfully draughty.)

And here’s the thing—I stopped supporting the Harry Potter franchise ages ago. Zilch. Nada. I do not buy the books, I don’t watch the films, I want nothing to do with anything officially licensed or adjacent. I genuinely cannot understand how anyone can, in good conscience, still support the franchise in any shape or form, given the cesspit of transphobia it’s become. Miss me with the “separate the art from the artist” nonsense. If you’re still putting money, energy, or even vague good vibes toward that universe, you’re part of the problem. That’s not up for debate.

Let’s do a quick highlight reel of why JKR (and people like her or those who support her give me the ick): Refusing—point-blank refusing—to use inclusive language, even when the entire internet is waving flags and spelling it out in Comic Sans. Equating trans women to predators and criminals. Erasing trans men altogether, as if we’re some imaginary breed of unicorn. (Sorry, JKR, trans men very much real, and frankly, a lot more magical than you’ll ever be.) Publicly shaming and insulting trans people and anyone who dares to correct her with actual facts. She has made a bloody career out of misinformed, dangerous, and deeply hurtful commentary, and honestly, it’s exhausting.

So, every time I go to write my beloved disaster boys—Harry, with his beyond messy hair and chronic saviour complex, and Draco, the human embodiment of a Prada advert left out in the rain—I get this sour taste in my mouth. Writing Drarry used to be pure joy. Now it’s tinged with bitterness, and that is entirely her fault.

And then there’s Tom Felton. Honestly, I can’t stomach his continued “let’s not rock the boat” approach to her transphobia, or his embarrassing involvement in the Cursed Child play. Tone-deaf doesn’t begin to cover it. Transphobia isn’t a debate; it’s a dealbreaker. The whole thing has soured the milk for me, like finding out the world’s best cheese toastie was made with foot cheese. I want to enjoy the thing, but now it just tastes wrong.

So what am I doing about it? Well, I’ve decided to give myself the Herculean task of editing my most popular multi-chapter Drarry fic. Something I’ve meant to do for ages. Progress is glacial—think more “melting ice cap” than “excited puppy”—but it is happening. I’m hoping that combing through all those familiar scenes and witty banter might dredge up a bit of the old magic. Will it work? Honestly, who knows. Maybe I’ll find the spark again, or maybe I’ll just get very good at using the strikethrough function.

And it’s not just fanfiction, either. I’m meant to be writing my Actual Book™ (you know, the one with original characters and no evil billionaire authors lurking in the background), but even that feels like pulling teeth some days. Maybe the root of my writing ennui is just plain old writer’s block. Maybe it’s a combination of exhaustion, righteous rage, and the general bleakness of being a queer creator in a world that keeps giving platforms to people like her.

Either way, if you’ve read this far, congrats on making it through my existential crisis du jour. I’m still here, still queer, still drinking too much coffee, and—yes—still trying to write, even if the spark is more of a tiny flicker these days. Send me good vibes, memes, and/or a time machine, yeah?

[stormiclown]

I know I might get bashed like hell for this but I don't care: Chat Noir and Ladybug are realistically the weakest Cat and Ladybug miraculous holders of their respective legacies.

And it's not just them. Every single Parisian hero of the current generation, from Rena Rouge to Viperion, are significantly weaker in terms of skill and power than their predecessors.

This isn't their fault entirely, as Ladybug and co have more disadvantages than the heroes that have come before them and there are those who don't take the job seriously [Chat Noir and Queen Bee].

They're Very Young

The first most glaring issue is the fact that they are still minors. The most consistent rule of the show is that a miraculous being used by a child is like the free trial version of a streaming service. Five minutes after using their special power, they will de-transform and will need to feed their kwami to resume their transformation. Unlike Hawkmoth and Mayura who can keep up their transformation even after using an akuma/amok, Ladybug and Chat Noir have to proceed with caution because they aren't grownups which limits their ability to fight all out. This is especially the case with Chat Noir and Ladybug as they are the main superheroes and characters used to emphasize this rule.

If the wiki is to be believed, then previous Ladybugs like La Déesse Coccinelle, Piao Chong, Tentomushi, Jeanne d'Arc (in the mlb universe), and Mudangbeolle were all adults according to their respective time periods and didn't have the same restrictions that the current Ladybug has. The same could be said about previous foxes, bees, turtles, snakes etc.

They Lack the Necessary Training

The second drawback that Marinette and Adrien have are their backgrounds. More specifically, their comfortable lifestyles. Marinette in particular, went from a clumsy girl who lived a normal life to a beloved superheroine in just one day. Not that there's anything wrong with that on a character level, but on a logical level it makes sense for her to be ill prepared for the duties of a hero at first. She was thrusted into it suddenly with no training [something I see is regularly addressed in crossover fanfictions with Batman and the DCU] or any background in combat, the latter she had to learn on her own. Though it's hinted at that Sabine is an exceptional fighter, it's pretty clear that she taught none of it to Marinette.

Adrien at least has some combat training in the form of fencing which is evident in the way he uses his staff like a fencing saber. But as someone who has been fencing since I was seven and been up against many talented opponents, Adrien strikes me as mediocre at best. He beats Kagami in Riposte sure, but by real fencing standards Adrien would be slaughtered by someone who had been trained their entire life to be an Olympic worthy fencer [Kagami].

I'm bringing this up because literally every past Ladybug, Black, and others have experience in combat, were vigilantes in armies, were warriors before using their miraculous, or fought in actual wars therefore becoming hardened veterans. In this category Adrien [again, even though he's mediocre] and Kagami are the only heroes of the current generation who have previous training in the form of a combat-oriented sport. Though, in my opinion, Kagami as Ryuko is the only hero that can hold a candle to her predecessors.

Alya, Nino, and Chloe are also very weak in this regard due to the aforementioned reasons above. They all have comfortable lifestyles and were thrusted into the world of heroes without any training or focus. Chloe nearly ran into a wall because she wasn't paying attention and Alya needed to be guilt tripped into giving the miraculous to Ladybug by Trixx. You can make the argument that the miraculous costumes make up for their lack of actual experience, which is 100% valid, but I can also argue that having battle training or any sort of athleticism can make a hero even more effective. I don't know if this is an unpopular opinion, but Kagami will always be the most effective and skilled temporary hero as evidenced by her being able to piece together her transformation phase, her attention to detail, her impressive battle awareness and her ability to right her mistakes [jumping into the fight without listening to Ladybug's plan in Ikari Gozen] with her quick thinking. Say what you will about her, but Kagami is objectively the best candidate to be a permanent hero, especially since Chat Noir has been demoted to sidekick/temporary hero status.

[Kim is also an athletic person, but his skill is in swimming, which isn't helpful unless he has an aqua form, which he doesn't so ehh]

They Have Little to No Knowledge of Their Own Powers

The third thing that the heroes have going against them is their lack of knowledge about their powers. By this point in the series, the heroes are just going with the flow and figuring things out for themselves as they go along.

As we know, these are the first heroes since the Order of the Guardians was destroyed. This context is important because in Feast, we learn that countless grimoires and Miracle Boxes burned away or eaten.

The miraculous date back to Ancient Times so there had to have been thousands of years of documented information about the miraculous of the Chinese Miracle Box. I'm not even going to say it's an assumption. It has to be a fact that there were secrets about each miraculous including how to train each Guardian that would have been extremely helpful to Ladybug and the others if they had access to it. Master Fu is responsible for tens of thousands of years' worth of knowledge being snuffed out in just one night.

This puts the heroes who wielded a miraculous after the Order was destroyed at a significant, almost sad disadvantage to those who were heroes before the Order fell. It's highly likely that after gaining their miraculous, previous heroes had access to the archive in which they could learn to utilize their powers to their absolute fullest potential. Whereas with the current heroes, it feels like they can only use a fraction of their miraculous's abilities.

Another problem with their lack of knowledge is the time separating Ladybug and Chat Noir from their predecessors. Bo Rua and an unnamed Vietnamese Black Cat were the last LadyCat duo before Feast swallowed the Order, with Adrien and Marinette being their immediate successors. However, Master Fu was confirmed to be in his 180s when he relinquished the Miracle Box to Marinette and Austruc confirmed Bo Rua and her partner to be in their early twenties, meaning that Bo Rua and LadyNoir have over 200 years separating them, confirming that their knowledge was lost over time after they died and can only be recovered by speaking to their spirits like in Reunion [which I have several complaints about]. Master Fu is obviously lacking knowledge about the miraculous to a severe degree, so it makes sense for Chat Noir and Ladybug to as well.

I'm not bashing Adrien and Marinette and co for being objectively weak because it makes so much sense. They lack proper training, they're kids with set limits on their powers, and they don't have access to crucial information that would've probably led them to defeat Hawkmoth by now. Sure, the two of them [more so Marinette] are the strongest heroes of their generation but if you put them up against their forebearers, they would be massacred with no difficulty whatsoever.

The show would be 100 times more interesting if this was acknowledged, which would lead to the introduction of the previous holders in a more natural and useful way.

[If I missed anything, any reblogs with your personal opinions on the matter will be very appreciated]

[askthechronoverse]

Last Chapter •|||• Next Chapter

"This is QUNI Radio! It's 8:00 am and it's going to be a beautiful day here in the Unicapital!" A rich and slightly obnoxious voice cut through the darkness as a yellow hand reached out to silence it. A gray hand gently stopped the other as the voice started to talk about the weather forecast.

"Babe… just five more minutes." A gruff voice muttered as he tried once again to hit snooze. He purred as the other man kissed his neck.

"No. It's your turn to take Catherine to school." The man with the gray hand placed that hand on his partner's unshaven face. "You also have to be at work early, remember? Come on, Jay. You need to get up."

"Oh, fine. But only because I love you." RJ flipped around lazily to kiss his husband’s forehead before sluggishly getting out of bed and opening the curtains.

The morning sun quickly ate the darkness to reveal the large bedroom. A very unabashedly 90's feeling pop song started playing, having been announced prior as a re-released song off a lost album from the early days of Old Bricksburg played as Richard floated out of bed and began to make it look neat again. The room had a slanted ceiling, a fan at the center of the intersection of the two slants. It was decorated tastefully, the dark pink wood of the furniture matching the floor perfectly.

"Wonder how they got Lucy to agree to release that? She always hated that part of her life." RJ mostly said this to himself as he threw on a random shirt, vest, and pants he pulled from an older looking set of drawers before stretching with a loud yawn.

"You say that every single time this song plays on the radio and it always amazes me that it amazes you that someone so tough could have come from a pop band like this." Richard shook his head softly as he started to get dressed as well, his movements far more intentional and refined. "I suppose my question is more why she left the band in the first place."

"I may have to ask her when I see her next. She hates talkin' about her backstory, so I probably won't get anywhere." Tweed covered arms wrapped around RJ as another kiss landed on his neck. This caused a soft smile to stretch over the rough man's face.

"Unlike someone else I could name. Some of us have nothing to hide. Right, my beloved?" Richard chuckled, letting go of his husband to finally silence the alarm clock.

"I know, I know. It just… it helps to be open about where you came from. At least it did for me." He followed Richard with his eyes as he disappeared down the stairs to start breakfast.

It was the smell of bacon and slightly burnt toaster waffles that finally summoned RJ downstairs. He snatched a full coffee mug that proclaimed that the person who owned the mug was the world's best dad, though the word best was crossed out and replaced with the word okayest off of the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. He headed for a door that was close to the back of the cabin that was covered in cute and glittery stickers of cartoon characters and baked goods with faces. RJ opened the door and the light that leaked out from behind him caused a swift movement of blankets being thrown over a child’s head.

"Five more minutes, Daddy. Pleeeeeeeease?" The child moaned as RJ slid into the room and pulled the blanket down to reveal the child's face. She looked up at him with watery eyes and a quivering lower lip.

"As your dad, I am immune to that look." RJ shook his head softly as he planted a kiss on her forehead. "Come on, kiddo. We gotta do stuff today." The girl moaned and slid out of bed. As she got ready, RJ left the room to help his husband finish prepping breakfast by setting the bar with mismatched utensils. He didn't turn when his husband addressed him.

"As a reminder: I have a meeting today to discuss the current status of Master Doom and the other Doom Lords with Queen Wa'nabi and her officials. I will be coming home late tonight, so you need to pick Catherine up from school and most likely put her to bed." Richard finished putting all of the food on plates and placed two of them on the bar. "We may end up talking about you as well, my love." He sighed sadly, brows furrowed as he picked at a strip of bacon.

RJ silently waved the concerns off with a flick of his hand as he sat at the bar to eat. “That… that all happened a long time ago." He practically muttered to himself.

"I'm worried that won't matter. Since Unitron took over interplanetary crimes, they've been going over older reports. There's a very good chance they might take you away from us for at the very least a trial if Queen Wa'nabi can't hold them back." The nervousness didn't abait. “I'm worried things will end poorly."

“Please do what ya gotta ta make sure it doesn't." The fear RJ was feeling was tangible until a mumbled good morning behind him made both men go silent.

"Good morning, Catherine." Richard's monotone was soft and calm as he slid a plate closer to the child. "Please eat as quickly as you can. You and your father are going to be late. Don't eat too fast, however. You'll get hungry sooner." He turned back to the kitchen and began to prepare Kit’s lunch.

"Thanks, Papa." Kit didn't seem to be enthusiastic as she ate a bite of black toast slowly. She suddenly turned to RJ and bounced a little on her stool. "So are we walking to school today, Daddy? Is that why we're up early?"

"Nah. I'm takin' ya in the truck. I got things ta do at the office, so I leave when you do." He frowned slightly at this daughter's readable disappointment. "Hey, guess what?"

"What?" She asked as she adjusted the sky blue horn headband on her head. RJ pushed the horn just in front of her heart shaped cowlick.

"It's only you an' me tonight." He saw the words light up Kit's eyes and let his smile turn to a grin.

"Awesome!" She jumped down from the stool and rushed to grab her glittery unicorn backpack, in which Richard had shoved a matching unicorn lunch box. Kit grabbed this bag and rushed off to her bedroom.

"That doesn't mean that you can skip your homework, Catherine. I do expect you to do your assignments before I return tomorrow morning." Richard didn't raise his voice higher than someone would in a loud room. When Kit nodded, he went back to eating his breakfast. He turned to RJ. "Please make sure she does her assignments. She has a project coming up for history class that needs to be finished and turned in by the end of the week." Richard kissed RJ's lips softly. "I know you will do that, right?"

"Yeah. Of course. What is she supposed to be doing?" RJ grabbed both Kit’s and his plate, putting them in the sink.

"It's just a basic family tree. I'm sure her friends are going to be a little jealous that she's somewhat related to Unikitty and Puppycorn." Richard leaned into RJ, who put an arm around him.

"I think most people know that, R. That won't be a shock." RJ let go of Rick to run his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. He watched Kit rush over to the counter, where she waited earnestly. "You set ta samba, kiddo?" She adjusted the strap on a beaten up brown canvas and leather messenger bag that was adorned with patches with both cute slogans and local attractions.

"Yeah!" Kit hugged Richard tightly. "Love you, Papa! Have a good day at work!" She ran toward the garage and RJ's truck. RJ gave his husband a long, soft kiss. Richard pulled away, the artificial light in the kitchen showing his age way more than he probably would have liked.

"Go. I know you're the boss but it's unbecoming of the commander of the Royal Chrononauts to be late for an all hands meeting." Richard brushed the back of his hand against RJ's cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, my beloved. Remember that I will love you, forever and always."

"Richard, I love you too. You made me a better man than I could have ever been." One last kiss, then RJ joined Kit in his beat up red pick up truck.

"So, did you finish saying goodbye to Papa?" Kit giggled as RJ started the car. Her unicorn backpack was not in the cab, but her canvas bag was on her lap. "How many times did he kiss you?" A few hearts popped up over her head as she spoke, clearly enamored by how romantic it all was.

"Enough, Kitten. But at the same time, not enough." He chuckled deeply as he started to head into town after some minor protest from the vehicle’s engine.

It took a while for the forest to transition into the bustling city, but when it did it felt like it hit like an ocean wave in a storm. There wasn't too much in the way of vehicle traffic, but bicycles filled the roadways. Sure, the occasional car was seen parallel parked by the sidewalks and safely nestled in small parking areas, but it was a less common sight on the road. He drove until he reached a building that looked like it fell from somewhere outside of time. The architecture was old but the actual building looked like it had just been built. A banner with a happy cartoon almiraj in a bowtie cheerfully stated that the school hoped the students would have a good summer.

"Can't believe summer is almost here." RJ sighed softly, glancing at his child bouncing in her seat anxiously.

"I just want it to come already!" Kit moaned.

"Can't wait to get started on some fun?” RJ said while trying to suppress a yawn.

"I thought I was gonna work with you this year?" This was spoken with a flutter of her eyelashes.

"I was hoping you'd work with your father this year, if you wanted to go that route. Your father and I agree that what I do is a bit too dangerous for you right now. Time travel isn't something to play with and I don't want you to get hurt." He ruffled Kit's dark gray hair, then bellowed at the sound of a fist pounding hard on his truck door. The two humans turned to the driver's side window to see a being with bee wings whose eyes were covered by a dense cluster of leaves. The only feature that could be seen on their face with any sort of consistency was a hawk like beak that was currently turned up into a Jack O'Lantern like grin.

"Mornin', Mr. B." The chimera bowed as they rushed to the passenger side of the car to open the door for Kit. They helped the human down from the seat as her bag fell back into its place on her side.

"Ya gotta stop givin' me a fright, Bellamy." RJ shook his head as he got out of the truck. He passed his daughter her backpack, which he grabbed from the truck bed as he walked toward them.

"That just means ya aren't bein' vigilant enough, Mr. B. I thought dad taught ya better than that." Once Kit was given her backpack, Bellamy folded her arms. "You're free to go. Kit'll be safe with me, as always."

"I think your dad taught you too well. Kitten, have a good day at school, OK? Ya can walk with Bellamy after school and meet me at my office. I'll see you later." RJ got back into the truck and drove off as Kit waved goodbye.

"Alright, Kay. We've got today an' tomorrow left before we're free for the summer. You get Mr. B to agree to letcha work with him at his office?" Bellamy kept their arms folded as they turned towards the school.

"No. I think, if I'm doing anything like that, I'm going with Papa. Boring… boring Papa." Kit let out a deep breath that was full of disappointment. "I love Papa, but I don't get to do anything Dad does."

"I'm glad your parents said no, though. Boring is safe. Ya know, I can't be your bodyguard when you grow up if you don't grow up." Bellamy’s arms now down and swinging slightly. "Mr. B and Mama do all that experimental stuff.” They stuck their tongue out slightly. “I can defend myself from what they do because of my dad's training. I could ask Dad to train you some basic fighting tricks.”

"Dad has been trying to teach me his special punch and other stuff he thinks I should know. I haven't been able to do any of it that well, but he says he's happy I can't. I think he's hiding some disappointment with that." Kit adjusted her horn as the two walked towards the school. "I just don't want to disappoint him."

"Somethin' tells me ya can't disappoint Mr. B." The chimera swished their fluffy bee-like tail, causing a few people behind her to move back. "When are ya gonna shadow Queen Unikitty?"

"Papa may be having me do that when I get older. Everyone feels that that's gonna be a long time away. I mean, PC is actually next in line and we all just kinda expect Big Sis to be on the throne for a long time." Kit shrugged, her backpack strap falling off her shoulder.

"It's better to be prepared, though. Dad has an Armommageddeon bunker somewhere in the countryside in case something bad happens." Bellamy opened the front door and waited for Kit to go through before she continued speaking. "Bad things happen. I'd rather know the person I will be protecting in the future is ready to take the throne if we need her to, know what I mean?"

"I guess, Ami. I just don't wanna think about that. It's a really sad thought." Kit shuffled her way to her locker, grabbing the sparkle matter above her head that showed her distress.

"Ya already got the "no sad feelings" mentality down." Bellamy opened the locker next to Kit's and shoved her adventurer style bag in as best she could. The two friends walked to their respective classrooms to properly start the day.

The red truck pulled in front of a building with a large satellite on the roof and an emblem with Unikitty's head silhouette that had a clock behind it. The clock disappeared past where the horn was and protruded out on the right side of the head. RJ barely turned the car off and hopped out before he was rushed by a fox in a lab coat.

"RJ! I'm so ecstatic you aren't late for once!" The fox hopped around the human, her tail puffed up. "Please, come with me! I need to show you something!" A large dog with fluffy blue and cream fur bolted after, his tartan scarf fluttering in the wind.

"Yeah! Ya need to see this, RJ!" The dog looked pale, his ears back.

"Scarlett, PC, relax. It probably ain't that serious." As he said this, Puppycorn opened the front door for the two older members of the group to reveal the aftermath of a localized storm in the lobby of an office that, given the damage, looked like it had been abandoned long ago. RJ stood, still as a statue. The only movement he could make was to lift one thick eyebrow on his face, which was glazed over by confusion and anger.

[astralikacastle]

So since I was covering for the house while my housemates were out of state, I was hanging out on the couch to try and keep the pupper from getting turbo-anxiety, and decided to boot up Tubi on the television to look at anime.

I realized I"d never watched Ranma 1/2, and started watching it. I mean, it's like one of the classics wrt gender and stuff, right?

I... It's been a bit of a slog tryna get through it. Like, I feel like the mildly refreshing approach to gender is a bit of an "of its time" and "integer underflow" deal, where it's so straight that it can't preoccupy itself with how gender affects things, or even comprehend the idea of gay romance.

Every villain seems to either be insanely creepazoid with trying to marry/seduce the Love Interest, Akane, with trying to marry/seduce Girl!Ranma, occasionally trying to marry Boy!Ranma. Very infrequently will any other sort of problem arise, and one episode the entire plot was about characters other than Ranma dealing with issues of Straight romance.

(A friend has said it apparently has to do with the author's weird views on sexuality; I try not to dig too deep on an author's views unless they go out of their way to make those views everyone else's problem, and I believe this friend, especially considering how well it matches the content.)

It ends up Accidentally Incredibly Gender, and it seems like someone who has a healthier relationship with gender could write those moments in ways that could tie into some greater theme about gender and sexuality. "It doesn't count because I'm a girl" is written that way because the author's view of the world is so insanely straight, but if the story actually took any amount of time to address those moments it could be amazing.

Like, sometimes it feels like I wanna just shake them and be like "TAKE FIVE MINUTES TO THINK ABOUT YOUR GENDER YOU FUCKING EGG", because the genderfluid vibes of being able to go so readily with the flow between a girl that's tomboyish in personality and a dude that exudes confidence, and Both Being Able To Kick My Ass, is such powerful energy. But the author doesn't know this, and the writing is bogged down with like the fifth or hundredth character that wants to get into one of our protagonists' pants.

[candycoated-rage]

hazbin hotel review (first four episodes, spoiler free)

i literally only watched the show to see if it was any good outside of the ads and the hate on twitter and... its very hit or miss

im not gonna address ANY of the controversies in this show because it will lead to a biased opinion, but if you wanna look into the controversies, go ahead. this is only reviewing the show itself. not the producers, just the show. the cut underneath is gonna be long so be warned

the humor is either pretty good or very bad. and most of the time, most jokes are dragged down by ones before it or proceeding it. i personally find some visual gags funny, but most of the jokes revolve around swearing, sex, and violence. if you're into that, i won't judge. but i personally really don't like it.

the animation can be really beautiful at times! but i've also noticed a lot of animation errors. nothing major, but the most common one i've seen is that many charcters have a different lineart color than other characters (for example, angel dust as pink line art, while charlie has black) and it makes it look as if the characters are on completely different planes. theres a scene in the first three minutes of the show where charlie is holding onto vaggie, and it looks very unnatural to me. this isnt to mention the character design, as well. personally, i love the designs for characters like Velvette, Valentino, Nifty, and Sir Pentious, as well as a lot of the background characters. however, i don't like the designs of characters like Vox, Alastor, Angel Dust, and many more. the silhouettes of many characters end up looking extremely similar, and with the mostly red backgrounds in the show with most character's colors pallettes being shades of red, it makes it hard to distinguish the background from the character itself. the backgrounds are BEAUTIFUL, though. they're genuinely stunning, and i love the art done for them. it makes the world feel lived-in.

the show is a musical, and many of the songs are either very good or very annoying or forgettable. my favorite of the few we get is alastor and vox's song; i love the fast pace, the bickering between the two, and their general "tv and video" and "radio star" theme. on the other hand, both songs in episode three are extremely forgettable to me. i watched the episode not even an hour ago and i don't remember either of them. i also find Poison a very annoying pop song, and i really don't like that it's been stuck in my head ever since i heard the chorus. but, despite that, the music is usually the most consistently good thing throughout the show.

the voice acting is fine. some voice actors do great! alastor and husk have very unique voices, and they fit the character very well. however, my main criticism with the voice acting is angel dust. the accent is very jarring to listen to, and it feels pretty fake. again, very hit or miss.

the plot itself is what i don't like. the show often stops in its tracks to dump information on you, and it feels very shoehorned in. some episodes also have very generic plots, especially episode three. i could predict what was going to happen every step of the way. the structure makes it feel almost like it's for a younger audience, and not for adults.

overall, i personally think the show has its highlights, but i wouldn't go out of my way to watch any more. there are much better shows for mature audiences out there. if i were to rate the series, it would be around a five or a six for me. it's not atrocious, and if you enjoy the show for what it is, i completely understand. there are some great moments in the show! however, i wouldn't recommend this show for someone who likes adult animation.

tl;dr, it's a fine show, i have a very mixed opinion of it. wouldn't recommend unless you want some pretty good songs and some nice animation.

[countcait]

See, this is the shit I can't stand.

This goes beyond annoyance and really upsets me because this showcases a certain toxic human behavior that has haunted me my whole fucking life.

Growing up, whenever I was meeting someone new and they asked me about my family, I had to tell them that my mom died when I was five, that there wasn’t much family to speak of because my withdrawn and depressed dad never so much as dated after her death.

And god, the things I would hear in response.

It was a lot of

“Yeah, well my parents are divorced, you’re lucky you get to see your dad at all!”

And

“I wish my mom were dead, I hate her. Yesterday she etc etc…”

Kids and even adults would go into automatic defensive mode, assuming I was initiating some kind of sympathy-ploy duel that they were determined to win. It didn’t matter how neutrally I shared my reality, it didn’t matter how quickly I tried to get back to the light tone of conversation that I’d inadvertently ruined, people would put this shit on me allll the time and there was nothing I could do.

I’ll never forget the time a middle aged woman that I barely knew angrily trauma dumped on me for an hour about her toxic relationship with her mother and concluded by lecturing me on how I shouldn’t be too sad my mom is gone because I could always have it worse.

I also had a relative who would do the same thing every damn time I saw her.

When I saw this post it took me right back to those memories and I’m pissed off.

To address the topic of Caitlyn hitting Vi: an explanation isn’t the same thing as a justification. “Done out of rage and trauma five minutes after getting choked out by Sevika and blasted away by an explosion caused by her mother’s killer” is an explanation for why Caitlyn hit Vi. It was still wrong of Caitlyn, and frankly I don’t think I’ve ever seen a single post on Tumblr that actually claims that it wasn’t wrong. The day I see a Caitlyn fan argue that Caitlyn was justified in hitting Vi I’ll certainly have something to say to them about it, but until that day, I’m calling bullshit on OP. All OP is really doing with this stupid ass meme is pitting two characters’ trauma against each other like it’s a game with a scoring system. The straw man of “people are defending the hit” is just in there to make the shit pill a little easier to swallow. 

“You’re not allowed to feel that much pain, you haven’t earned it as much as other people.” You know what that is? It’s abusive. It is classic, textbook emotional abuse. I once dated a woman who lived through such horrific things that my childhood looked like a trip to candyland by comparison. Unfortunately, she sought to control me by using her own history as a guilt-tripping tool, and she fucked my emotional state to hell and back. 

What OP here is doing, is more or less trying to invite that kind of abuse onto Caitlyn and dragging Vi in as the guilt-tripping bludgeon. Vi would never pull a “Oh wow, your mom died? Boohoo, my whole family died” on Caitlyn because she’s not an abuser…so take a hint from her maybe.

Objectively, my life has been more similar to Vi’s than to Caitlyn’s, but I would never, EVER belittle someone else’s grief because I’m not brain rotted by online fauxgressive bullshit. Because I don’t have a narcissistic martyr complex where I feel the need to writhe on the ground in front of an online audience broadcasting my superior victimhood for clout. Because I’ve matured past the mindset of those elementary and middle school kids who think empathy is a competition where you screw over everyone else.

It’s hilariously fitting that you picked Mel Gibson Jesus for this meme because the trauma olympics shit you’re pedaling is so fucking culturally Christian. So much of the fringe-left internet’s ideas about privilege and punishment are actually a lot like repackaged original sin and penance.

“Repent, ye sinful privileged, lest ye might someday accrue enough sacred Victimhood for thine emotions to become valid in the eyes of the clergy. Donate to my paypal and be saved.”

Very productive for social change, I’m sure.

Anyway

Unfunny meme, 0/10

[chaninfused]

The Altar of Angels | Lee Minho

◤“If the jester wanted to play, then the Prince of the Underworld would happily oblige.” In which a mafia heir seeks the aid of a wildcard to upturn his court. ◤Disclaimers: Female reader insert. Chapter five from the ‘dead men don’t speak’ series. Enemies to worse enemies (seriously, there’s not a shred of affection between them, only toxicity). Action and angst. Descriptions of violence, death, blood, and injury. Usage of vulgar language. ◤Word count: 3.3K ◤Note: This idea is a 100% mine and any case of similarity with someone else’s is purely coincidental. Events are pure fiction and do not reflect the idols' true characters. Please do not take my content without my consent. Masterlist. ◤From the author: I'm sorry for the long pause! It took me longer than expected to get back into the groove of writing, but we're back, and I wish you happy reading!

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The Prince of the Underworld had learned many lessons at thirteen. Most notable was the revelation that his life was merely a game of cards. Every person had their pre-assigned place in the deck, and he played them all with a serpent’s ease and a devil’s grin.

A restless mastermind, Minho survived by being in control, and it seemed that his guest was keenly aware of that fact.

He glanced at his silver watch. Seven minutes past the meeting time. He’d known that this alliance was never going to be peaceful when he sent that invitation.

Still, he was patient. Two could play this game if his valued guest so desired.

Ten minutes.

He was sure it was on cue when the doors swung open right then and his guest strode in, that infamous burgundy coat billowing around her, her entourage of one man tailing behind her. She was all too relaxed when she met his gaze, faux apology leaving her lips, “My, what a maze this place is!”

The legs of the chair opposite to him screeched against the floor, but she didn’t seem to care as she flopped onto the leathery cushions, tossing a familiar envelope his way.

“So,” her eyes didn’t crinkle when she smiled, “Do spill. Where did you find the spine to summon me like one of your lackeys?”

Straight to the point, huh?

Minho wanted to laugh. She was just as he’d expected.

A Joker card.

Unruly, unpredictable, and incredibly special. If the jester wanted to play, then the Prince of the Underworld would happily oblige.

“I believe our meeting was supposed to happen at eleven. Seeing as to how it’s ten past that now, I think I’ll be taking my leave,” Minho remarked coolly, barely rising from his seat when the air next to his ear whistled as a bullet tore through.  

“Stay put, will you?”

He mentally cursed at his body for freezing involuntarily. Of course she’d be the type of madwoman to shoot at him in a room full of his men. Any closer, and it would have been his brain matter splattered on the pristine walls alongside the imbedded bullet.

“I did have to make a long journey here, so make it worthwhile, your highness.”

Her mockery didn’t go unnoticed, though the real mockery was the desperation that made him ignore that address and hold her cold gaze. He didn’t know if it was stupidity or confidence that made her and her second so nonchalant despite the guns aimed at them for the transgression.

Minho remained standing. “I’m not fond of tardy people, miss Y/n.”

“And I don’t like to be ordered around, but I guess we can’t all have it our way,” she twirled her handgun lazily, eyes and words sharp.  

Touché.

Minho supposed this made the two of them even, so he decided to let it go, motioning for his guards to lower their arms as he reclaimed his seat.

“I called you here because I would like to propose an alliance between us,” he began once he had settled.

“And what purpose would that serve exactly?”

“My uncle has been running Taunt to the ground lately,” he leaned back into the leather chair, voice dropping, “I think it’s time he fell.”

“Not interested in your intra-organization power struggles,” she shrugged in immediate dismissal. “Besides, it seems to me you’re forgetting the agents Taunt had planted to assassinate me and the Right Claw two weeks ago.”

“That is precisely why this alliance benefits both you and me,” Minho stressed. “My uncle was reckless enough to attack you and spur the Shadow Front’s wrath—against my express advice, I’ll have you know. I want him and his moronic execs gone before my organization is destroyed, and I’m sure you want payback for the hospital.”

She glanced at her second in command, an unspoken exchange flitting between them, before pointing out, “And you think associating yourself with the Shadow Front is gonna fly with the rest of your people?”

Of course it wouldn’t fly. The animosity between Taunt and the Shadow Front was as ancient as the sun and the moon, but the Seraph’s Ring was becoming impatient.

“I don’t plan to associate myself with the Shadow Front,” he corrected, “I’m associating myself with Shiver."

The Six Claws were the highest-ranking individuals in the Shadow Front, and their power allowed them to create their own divisions or even found their own sub-organizations, so long as they answered to their Boss at the end of the day.

Shiver was one such sub-organization, belonging to none other than the Left Claw who sat across from him, murmuring to herself, “I see.”

“Well… I do agree that the executives should perish,” she finally said, and Minho nodded, “And I won’t stand in your way when the time comes. Do we have a deal, then?”

The room held its breath, and then she laughed, “Sure. I’ll kill your boss for you.”

Minho exhaled.

He had done it. The King of Diamonds would finally topple.

“But what do I get out of this?” her question shattered his moment of triumph.

Eyes sparkling with amusement, she rested her elbow against the armrest of her chair and propped her head against her palm. “It isn’t like I actually need your permission to take revenge if I wanted to.”

But of course, Minho wasn’t so naive.

“I’ll give you free access to Port Three for a year.”

“Two years.”

She hadn’t missed a beat, still boring into him with those unnervingly bright eyes as though nothing in this world could ever be worth taking seriously. Her drawl dripped with poison, “Two years or I make a beeline out of here to your uncle’s office and tell him about his little traitor of a nephew.”

Right.

Port Three was under Minho’s control, and the charges he collected from it were only a small portion of his fortune. He could afford to relinquish control temporarily.

“Fine,” he yielded, perfectly composed, and that same grin stretched her lips again, not quite reaching her eyes.

“Nice doing business with you.”

Hatred was a mistress of many faces, and Minho was familiar with all of them. The Left Claw smiled and her second was expressionless, but Minho saw it.

Those two despised him to their very cores.

It mattered to him none.

He had his flimsy alliance and he finally had her.

A Joker card to add to his collection.

•⭓•

Minho wasn’t born a prince.

He’d been nothing one day, and then he was the chosen son of one of the most powerful men in the underworld, the closest thing to royalty among criminals.

And it was only right that the King’s son be raised a Prince. Blessed, untouchable, divine, he could have the very sky that you were now captivated by in his palms if he so wished.

“Haunting, isn’t it?” he remarked as he approached the balustrade where you stood with your second, so still as if meditating. The stars were invisible tonight, but the moon was a bleeding orb of light and terrifyingly close. It had a presence that sent a shiver down his spine, as though it were an omen. A promise of bloodshed.

“That’s not the word I’d use,” you scoffed, turning away from the balustrade to face him. You wore an altered version of your notorious coat, sharply cut to suit the party, and a displeased frown. “Let’s get this over with already.”

You didn’t care to wait for his response before stalking toward the grand doors, and Minho caught up to you with ease. The two of you walking in together would be a statement, and it would create just the kind of fuss needed to ruffle his uncle’s feathers.

More than that, actually. It would set the King of Diamonds’ metaphorical plumage on fire, and the thought of that almost made Minho dizzy with excitement.

The sea of dark suits seemed to still, conversation dying and voices falling into a hush upon your entrance into the hall. He stifled a victorious smirk at the scene.

It worked like a charm.

Every gaze was a spear that directed at you, and Minho felt it then, a gaze hotter and sharper than the rest. The Cardinal Ring, fuming with betrayal and unbridled rage.

They all recognized that deep, reddish color—the Joker card at his side.

You paid them no mind, marching through a crowd that parted for you almost naturally, and Minho matched your pace until your path collided with his uncle and his three executives, huddling close to one another as though to intimidate the two of you.

“You have some nerve, Minho,” his uncle all but spat at him, his name sounding like a curse from his lips.

He only smiled cordially, coldly, in response. “I’m afraid I disagree, sir.”

His uncle seethed silently, snapping his eyes to glare at you. Minho knew he wouldn’t make a scene with him so publicly, but you were a known enemy, so you weren’t spared when he jeered at you, “What, that one-eyed brute finally bored you? Cozying up to your enemies for some excitement?”

You didn’t so much as blink at his provocations. Lips pressed into a flat line, you leveled him with a look so unamused that it stilled the air. Only your second in command expressed any semblance of agitation, a lone vein twitching in his jaw.

Han Jisung was his name. A Jack card, so loyal to his boss.

Silence yawned between the two of you, a depthless canyon, so thoroughly uncomfortable it caused Minho’s skin to prickle. It felt like hours, though realistically, he knew it was a mere few seconds before his uncle scoffed a swear under his breath and turned away with his posse.

You watched them disappear into the crowd for good measure and then faced the direction you had come from. “Let’s go, Han.”

“You’re leaving?” Minho was a little surprised, and you gave him a withering glare.

“I only came here to piss off your uncle, and we’ve done that. Your company doesn’t interest me otherwise. Goodbye."

Minho could only watch as your burgundy coat melted into the mass of black suits. He might’ve been offended at your curt dismissal, and maybe he should’ve, but Minho found the grace in his heart to forgive you.

After all, the Joker, the harbinger of chaos, had but a single instinct driving their every action.

Bloodlust.

He would entertain your antics because as long as he wielded your insatiable craving for bloodshed, you were practically dancing in his palms.

•⭓•

Kings were made to fall.

Minho also learned that at thirteen, when he cradled his father’s cold body in his arms. The King of Spades, he’d later dubbed him. Mighty, boundless. Fallible.

The current boss, his uncle, was also a King and so were his executives. It was a fitting assessment because he had to fall too, for the sake of Taunt’s survival.

That was why Minho considered himself a perfect ‘one’. An Ace. He would only rise, like an angel outstretching a hand for the salvation of humanity.

Blessed, untouchable, divine.

His faction was thus aptly named the Seraph’s Ring, and they had become ravenous beasts praying for his uncle’s downfall.

The doors of the meeting room burst open when Minho charged in, quipping without a drop of lightheartedness, “What’s this? A secret club meeting?”

The stunned faces of his uncle and his three executives greeted him. The Cardinal Ring looked as though they had been caught red-handed.

“I wonder, did our invite get lost in the mail?” Minho sneered as he ambled in, followed by the two other executives who constituted his faction.

Sitting at the head of the long table, Taunt’s boss hissed, “You have no right to sit at this table after sleeping with the shadow bastards.”

What a vulgar mouth.

“I slept with nobody," Minho deadpanned as he dropped into his usual seat. "Your problem has always been that you’re severely short-sighted.”

One of the Cardinal executives slammed a fist against the table, features contorting in anger. “You arrogant little—”

“I learned something interesting.”

Minho savored the small victory of their silence at his announcement. They were all the same at the end of the day.

Vultures.

“Those shadow bastards have quite the deal to close with Six-Six,” he wielded the foreign organization’s name like weapon and saw the executives' eyes darken in response. “Three hundred million dollars or something along those lines.”

“I hear the Claws will be in attendance too,” Minho leaned back, triumphant when he met his uncle’s hungry gaze, “Doesn’t that excite you, uncle?”

“So this was your play all along?” his boss huffed his surprise.

“I’m not as airheaded as you think I am.”

Once again, Minho had played a flawless hand. He could practically see the schemes brewing in his uncle’s head.

“Two weeks from now. Two in the afternoon,” he smiled, drinking in his sweet, sweet greed. “I’m sure Six-Six doesn’t care who meets them at the West Port.”

Foolishness was the downfall of all Kings.

•⭓•

The rusty aluminum ceiling of warehouse 5B would be the last thing Taunt's boss would see. What fine taste you had.

Mino’s gaze roved over the space and the abandoned containers lining its walls. “And you’re sure no one will interrupt us here?”

“Yeah,” you said behind him. “Just make sure your boss shows his face.”

“He will.”

That man was a slave to his greed. Minho was more than glad to pull his leash into this trap.

“And the execs?” you asked.

“They’ll likely stay behind. Wouldn’t want to dim his spotlight.”

 “Right.”

You were as riveted by the plan as one would be by an ant crossing the pavement. It ticked him off, just barely.

“You’re awfully relaxed,” Minho commented as you strolled past him.

“What, haven’t killed a man before?” you paused to side-eye him. “No wonder you sought outside help.”

“Hey.”

“Or wait, there was that cruise incident last year, right?”

His blood chilled. Too late did he notice the sly grin on your lips. He’d basically confirmed your claim with his silence.   

Damn it.

“How did you know about that?” Minho demanded. He had ensured that the coverup was flawless, that it could never be traced back to him.

So how—

“A little fox whispers to me.” you shrugged, resuming your aimless walk. “Anyway, let’s go over your sob story again.”

That fox must have been your informant, and quite the skilled one. Minho bit back his frustration. It didn’t seem like you planned to use the information against him anyway.

“You purposefully fed me wrong information and made me lead the boss here. You then ambushed us and killed him as revenge,” he recited.

“Exactly! I betrayed you,” you lamented mockingly. “Poor Prince of the Underworld.”

Poor Joker card, he thought in response.

The hatred in your gaze never shied from the light, but it was pointless. No matter how much you fought him, you would never be able to truly betray him.

For only he held the cards in this game.

•⭓•

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

There was blood on the ground, seeping from bodies long still, pooling until it appeared like an extension of your burgundy coat. Four bodies, crumpled unceremoniously, and you stood in the midst of the carnage like a Reaper. 

This wasn’t the place the two of you had agreed on. These weren’t the victims the two of you had agreed on.

“What the fuck did you do?” the shout tore from Minho’s lungs, blistering and painful, colliding with your back which you still gave to him.

He saw your shoulders raise and drop.

“I told you they had to perish.”

“You killed them all!” a roar sounded from somewhere seemingly outside his body. Minho couldn’t tell, couldn’t think.

They were dead. They were all dead.

He stumbled and his legs gave out, splattering him in the blood of the executives of the Cardinal Ring when his knees met the ground.

This wasn’t my plan. This wasn’t my play.

You half turned toward him, that smile of utter distaste on your lips. Pity burned in your eyes. “It���s personal, don’t feel too bad.”

Personal? His stomach twisted and threatened to empty itself out on the ground. Minho’s assessments were never wrong. The Joker card was bloodthirsty, and that thirst was easy to control. It should’ve made the finest tool out of you.

So why—

His hands moved before he could process the thought, his instincts taking over.

A wildcard ruins the entire deck.

His gun was warm in his hands, and he aimed it at your head.

You can’t continue to exist, Joker.  

He might have been too late in realizing it, but he saw it now. You were a threat Minho couldn’t afford to ignore.

There was a step before he felt the barrel of a gun press against his temple.

“Wanna test my reaction time?” Jisung’s voice was void of humor and he ordered, “Drop the gun.”

It was futile. The moment Minho’s finger twitched on the trigger, his life would be snuffed out. He likely wouldn’t even see you fall before that. His resolve splintered and cracked, and his aim fell lower and lower until his weapon clattered on the bloody ground.

Jisung kicked the gun away instantly, and Minho felt a scream clawing its way through his throat.

But it was barely a whisper that left his lips, “Why…”

He wanted his uncle dead, yes, but not his executives. As much as he despised the Cardinal Ring, he needed its members alive to keep Taunt stable. There was no way he could avoid a revolt now.

His father’s kingdom. His family.

Taunt would destroy itself, and you would dance over its grave.

“You ruined everything,” he spat, hoping the words stung as he glared at your relaxed form. There was no hint of violence on your person. Your hair was undisturbed and your coat was pristine. No bruise nor blood marred your skin. There was only light in your gaze.

Blessed, untouchable, divine.

Corrupt.

“And who’s to blame for that?” you wondered aloud. “You were the one who led me right into your den, or did you forget that already?”

Minho had done just that. He even promised not to stand in your way.

A mistake so terrible, it would haunt him for the remainder of his days.

His distress must’ve shown because you frowned, disappointed, disgusted, even, “You’re still incredibly boring—”

An explosion shook the earth below you, deafening, and you immediately looked to your second. Alert with your gun ready for attack, you uttered a single word of command, “Han.”

He moved wordlessly, a specter drifting over the corpses as he made his way toward the shabby window of this warehouse. A few seconds later, he declared in the suffocating silence of the explosion’s aftermath, “It came from 5B.”

Minho’s heart sputtered. He didn’t remember setting up any bombs there, and judging from the grim shift in your expression, you didn’t either.   

“Didn’t he say he would be scouting the area?” you asked, and your second answered as he returned to your side, “He did, yes.”

“Well, then. I guess I’m glad I took his advice and changed locations,” you shrugged after a moment’s thought, stuffing your hands in your coat pockets and beginning to make your way to the exit. “Let’s hope we don’t meet again, Prince of the Underworld.”

Minho didn’t have the spirit to bite back. He had become a plummeting angel, his wings torn and his halo dimmed. He grappled with the realization that perhaps he’d been wrong all along.

Alone, surrounded by the corpses of his arrogance, Minho screamed until his mind’s pandemonium ceased.

Maybe Kings weren’t the only ones made to fall.

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Thank you for reading this far! We're nearing the plot's apex, so a lot of answers will be revealed in the upcoming few chapters. I would love to hear your thoughts! A reblog and any feedback would be greatly appreciated. I hope you have a spectacular day, and I'll see you next week for chapter six! ♡